Linda Christanty, adalah seorang penulis dan juga seorang wartawan. Karya tulisnya, “Militerisme dan Kekerasan di Timor Leste”, memenangkan Penghargaan Karya Tulis Terbaik Hak Asasi Manusia 1998. Kumpulan cerita pendeknya, Kuda Terbang Maria Pinto, memenangkan Penghargaan Sastra Khatulistiwa tahun 2004. Linda Christanty juga menulis Tongkat Sultan, sebuah novel yang menceritakan perseteruan selama tiga puluh tahun di Aceh, dan From Java to Atjeh, sebuah kumpulan berita yang ditulisnya tentang hukum syariah, perseteruan politik, kesukuan, dan hubungan sesama jenis. Tahun 2002 dia kembali meraih Penghargaan Kathulistiwa untuk kumpulan cerita pendeknya yang berjudul, Rahasia Selma. Sebelumnya Linda pernah menjadi ketua penyunting dari harian Masa Depan Aceh yang berkantor di Banda Aceh, Sumatra. Linda Christanty sekarang tinggal di Jakarta, dan bekerja sebagai penyunting di majalah Dewi, sebuah majalah khusus wanita terkenal.

Zakaria, adalah salah satu dari kumpulan cerita pendeknya yang terjadi di Aceh selama dan setelah masa perseteruan politik, Linda mengangkat sisi kemanusiaan Aceh ke dunia luar.

Hak Cipta (c) 2011 oleh Linda Christanty. Penerbitan karya cipta harus melalui izin penulis.
Terjemahan (c) 2013 oleh Dewi Anggraeni.

***

ZAKARIA

Zakaria termenung di kamarnya, yang tak pantas disebut kamar. Ruang ini markas kawanan perabot, tempat kakaknya menyimpan perkakas dapur dan peralatan makan untuk kenduri, hari raya atau menjamu tamu keluarga dari lain kota.

Sarang laba-laba sambung-menyambung di antara tumpukan perabot itu, memerangkap laron atau menjaring nyamuk sekaligus menandai kamar ini luput dari perhatian penghuni tetapnya. Di tengah riuh kepungan dandang, talam, panci, piring, mangkok dan gelas itu, terbentang sehelai kasur tipis kumal Zakaria, lelaki kurus kering yang terlentang di atasnya dengan setengah badan beralas rambut panjang sepinggang, yang sungguh hitam dan tebal, tapi berminyak dan bau apak.

Sepasang mata Zakaria terbuka lebar. Senyumnya merekah sesekali. Ia membayangkan orang-orang pilihannya yang akan ikut aksi sore nanti. Geuchik Syawal ada di urutan pertama orang pilihannya. Geuchik Syawal punya ilmu menghilang, jadi zat tak tercium dan tak teraba di saat-saat yang dianggap perlu. Lelaki ini menyimpan azimat tulang kucing. Berkat azimat itu pula Geuchik Syawal pernah mabuk Stephenson tanpa dilihat orang. Istrinya yang mondar-mandir menjemur pakaian di pekarangan rumah bahkan tak melihat suaminya tersandar di bawah sebatang kelapa di samping kandang ayam mereka.

Zakaria mendengar kisah tadi dari teman-temannya, yang mengetahui kehebatan Geuchik Syawal dari gunjingan orang-orang kampung. Tapi anehnya Zakaria enggan mencari kebenaran dari mulut sang tokoh sendiri. Ia khawatir kebenaran membuatnya kecewa dan melumpuhkan semangatnya untuk menghadapi hari-hari sulit. Kelak azimat tulang kucing Geuchik Syawal jadi kisah yang mengilhami begitu banyak orang, terutama kaum yang tak berdaya dan tertindas untuk menemukan kembali semangat hidup mereka melalui benda-benda mati.

Namun, tidak semua tulang kucing bisa dijadikan azimat. Tulang kucing hitam mata merah adalah satu-satunya jenis tulang bertuah itu. Untuk mendapatkan azimat tulang kucing hitam mata merah juga tidak mudah.

Si pemburu azimat harus mengejar-ngejar dan menangkap kucing-kucing hitam, lalu memeriksa mata mereka satu per satu, seperti cara dokter memeriksa pasien di ruang praktik. Sementara itu kucing hitam mata merah juga sudah langka akibat ulah para pemburu azimat tulang kucing. Andai kamu beruntung memperoleh seekor kucing hitam mata merah, jangan bersorak girang dulu. Ujianmu belum selesai.

Kamu harus menempuh cara berkorban Nabi Ibrahim saat mempersembahkan putranya Ismail pada Allah. Pertama-tama, perlakukan kucingmu sebagai buah hati. Peliharalah ia sampai jinak, sampai rasa sayangmu membuat kaulupa bahwa kucing ini sama sekali tak berguna ketika hidup. Di puncak rasa sayangmu itulah kau wajib menyembelihnya. Kau harus tega mengakhiri riwayat si manis yang biasa menyuruk manja ke pangkuanmu dan meringkuk lelap di situ.

Setelah melewati tahap ini, nasibmu agak berbeda dengan Nabi Ibrahim. Tuhan yang Maha Pengasih dan Penyayang kelak menyelamatkan persembahan Ibrahim. Ia menukar Ismail, putra Ibrahim, dengan seekor domba. Semua cerita ini tertera dalam kitab suci. Tapi kucing yang kau sembelih itu benar-benar terkulai mati dan tidak bangun lagi. Kau harus menguburnya di titik temu empat jalan tanpa seorang pun tahu. Di hari yang kauanggap daging kucing itu telah hancur menyatu dengan tanah dan tinggal tulang-tulangnya yang tersisa, datanglah ke tempat tersebut bersama seorang teman terpercaya. Bongkar kuburan kucing. Minta temanmu menyaksikan kamu memegang setiap tulang. Sebab tak semua tulang kucing hitam mata merah menyimpan tuah. Tulang yang membuatmu hilang saat memegangnya, itulah tulang bertuah dan pantas kausimpan sebagai azimat.

Zakaria memperoleh resep azimat tulang kucing dari tabib tua, tetangga kakaknya. Ia sudah hapal proses pembuatannya di luar kepala.
Sebelum bertemu langsung dengan Geuchik Syawal, Zakaria pernah mengerahkan teman-temannya mencari kucing hitam mata merah. Tapi tidak seorang pun berhasil menangkap kucing itu hidup-hidup meski dua minggu berputar-putar di pasar ikan dan mengintai-intai tempat-tempat sampah. Zakaria pantang menyerah. Ia kemudian memasang perangkap kucing di samping rumah kakaknya. Dua hari kemudian dilihatnya ayam betina kakaknya yang mondar-mandir dalam perangkap itu.

Berdekatan dengan pemilik azimat tulang kucing juga membuat kamu bisa menghilang, asal ia menggandeng tanganmu tepat sebelum menghilang. Zakaria juga tahu soal ini. Mengajak Geuchik Syawal ikut serta dalam aksinya tentu saja bukan tanpa maksud tersembunyi. Selain Geuchik Syawal, ia meminta Taufik, temannya sejak kecil, turut bergabung. Taufik tidak memiliki azimat. Tapi ia senang berurusan dengan azimat. Ia pernah membantu Zakaria mengejar-ngejar kucing hitam. Ketika teman-teman lain mulai putus asa dan menghindari pasar ikan dan tempat sampah, Taufik masih saja berputar-putar di dua lokasi khusus ini. Zakaria menghargai kesetiaan Taufik, lalu mengganjarnya dengan ajakan istimewa.

Di sore hari itu tiga lelaki tampak riang dalam truk yang melaju. Geusyik Syawal menyetir, Taufik di tengah, Zakaria di ujung sana. Geuchik Syawal asyik merokok sejak roda truk berputar dari titik keberangkatan.

Di bak belakang, tertutup kain terpal, bersemayam muatan rahasia untuk dikirim ke Pulau Jawa. Pos jaga ada di mana-mana. Mereka perlu waspada. Namun, kesaktian Geuchik Syawal membuat hati Zakaria tenang.

Truk menembus malam, berjam-jam. Jalanan sunyi. “Kalau bisa mobil ini juga tak terlihat, Chik Wal,” cetus Zakaria.

“Oh, ya, ya, tentu….” Geuchik Syawal tertawa-tawa.

Ia masih saja dipanggil geuchik, meski sudah lama pensiun sebagai kepala desa atas permintaan sendiri. Ia lebih suka berniaga ketimbang mendengar macam-macam masalah warga yang membuatnya pening kepala dan darah tinggi.

Di tengah jalan tiba-tiba melintas seekor kucing. Putih belang-belang. Sorot lampu tak membuatnya bergegas. Geuchik Syawal menghindari kucing itu dengan sigap. Selain sakti, ia pengemudi andal.

“Pertanda apa ini?” tanya Taufik.

“Pertanda buruk,” tukas Zakaria, bergurau.

Geuchik Syawal diam saja.

Setelah kucing melintas, di kejauhan tampak riuh sorot lampu mobil-mobil. Jantung Zakaria berdetak. Mereka akan mengalami masalah berat.

“Kita akan kena, kita akan kena,” gumam Geuchik Syawal, langsung menghentikan truk di pinggir jalan.

Zakaria menyaksikan lelaki itu buru-buru membuka pintu truk lalu berlari ke arah kebun. Semula ia mengira Geuchik Syawal sedang menyiapkan azimatnya agar mereka menghilang bersama. Tiba-tiba Taufik melompat keluar truk, mengusul lelaki itu, menghilang dalam gelap. Zakaria terkesima. Namun, dengan cepat ia mulai menangkap ada yang tak berjalan semestinya.

Ia pun bergegas membuka pintu mobil, tidak menyusul kedua temannya ke dalam gelap, melainkan merayap di tanah, lalu menyuruk ke bawah truk dan bersembunyi di balik roda belakang.

Tak berapa lama mobil-mobil mendekat dan berhenti. Suara riuh-rendah. Orang-orang berseragam. Mereka bergegas mengerumuni truk, membuka dan membanting pintu. Ada yang menggerutu tak menemukan kunci kemudi. Ada yang meminta temannya menusukkan sangkur ke muatan truk itu, menikam orang-orang yang barangkali bersembunyi di bawah terpal dan membuat mereka menjerit untuk ditemukan.

Zakaria merasa sekujur tubuhnya bagai kehilangan darah dan ia menggigil hebat. “Sangkur saja. Sangkur saja!” seru salah satu dari mereka pada temannya, dengan menyebut huruf “u” yang seolah berimpitan dengan huruf “o” dan huruf “j” yang terdengar lebih tebal dari semestinya.

Ia melihat sepatu-sepatu lars mereka hilir-mudik. Kadangkala sepatu-sepatu itu berhenti tepat di sisi roda tempat ia berlindung. Dada Zakaria mulai sesak. Tenggorokannya seperti tercekik.

Salah seorang dari pasukan berseragam itu kemudian memerintahkan semua bersiap melanjutkan perjalanan demi keselamatan. Ia, barangkali komandan mereka, khawatir truk ini cuma pancingan pihak lawan untuk menyerang mereka di tengah malam.

Mereka bahkan tidak sempat membuka terpal dan menemukan muatan rahasia itu. Derap sepatu bergegas menjauh. Mesin-mesin mobil menderu.
Zakaria sengaja tak bergerak selama setengah jam. Ia menenangkan dulu detak jantungnya. Setelah merasa aman, ia keluar dari bawah truk, masuk kebun gelap. Berkali-kali ia jatuh tersandung tonjolan akar dan semak, tapi akhirnya dilihatnya kerlip lampu.

Ia lega, karena disangkanya lampu itu berasal dari gubuk penjaga kebun. Namun, ia tidak ingin mengejutkan para penghuninya. Ia hanya akan tidur dekat gubuk itu dan bersyukur telah selamat dari bahaya. Tinggal beberapa meter lagi dari gubuk tersebut, langkah Zakaria terhenti. Seekor anjing menyalak, keras.

Perlahan-lahan Zakaria mengerti bahwa gubuk itu tidak dihuni manusia, melainkan beberapa ekor sapi. Bau kotoran binatang mulai tercium. Anjing galak ini bertugas menjaga sapi-sapi.

Zakaria memutuskan mundur pelan-pelan, menjauhi gubuk. Anjing terus menyalak. Zakaria terjerembab di tanah bercampur kotoran sapi. Namun, ia sama sekali tak sempat mengumpat. Ia ingin cepat-cepat pergi, menghindari gigitan anjing.

Ia terus berjalan menyusuri kebun-kebun, sampai kelelahan dan tiba-tiba menemukan lagi jalan raya. Pikirannya masih diliputi cemas. Jangan-jangan ia masih terlalu dekat dengan truk tadi. Geuchik Syawal dan Taufik benar-benar menghilang. Apakah mereka berhasil mencapai perkampungan? Apakah mereka bersembunyi di kebun orang? Azimat tulang kucing atau gelapkah yang lebih mahir menyembunyikan dua kawan tak setia tadi?

ZAKARIA berdiri di tepi jalan raya, melambai pada mobil-mobil lewat. Sorot lampu mobil-mobil itu menguak gelap dan menyinari tubuh Zakaria. Tapi mobil-mobil tak satu pun menepi untuk memberinya tumpangan. Mobil-mobil justru menambah kecepatan mereka begitu mendekatinya, sehingga tubuh Zakaria tersentak ke belakang dilanda angin kencang.

Sudah lima mobil lewat dengan tabiat serupa. Jalanan kembali sunyi. Zakaria nyaris putus asa. Badan bau kotoran sapi. Tubuh penat luar biasa. Perut berkeriyuk berkali-kali. Dingin menggigit tulang.

Lama-kelamaan baru disadarinya para pengemudi itu barangkali mengira ia hantu. Rambutnya panjang sepinggang, tergerai dan kusut masai. Dari kejauhan, ia tampak sebagai makhluk dari dunia lain.

Kelak cerita tentang hantu gadis berambut panjang di Padang Tiji menyebar dari kampung ke kampung dan akhirnya sampai juga ke telinga Zakaria. Teman-temannya bergunjing tentang hantu itu, siang malam. Arwah orang yang mati terpaksa. Sebelum dibunuh, dia sempat disekap di rumah besar itu dan diperkosa. Dia bukan orang Padang Tiji, tapi dari kampung lain. Zakaria ingin memberitahu teman-temannya kisah yang sebenarnya, dari sudut pandang manusia yang dituduh hantu yang tak lain dari dirinya sendiri, tapi ia kemudian mengurungkan niat itu. Biarlah tahayul menghibur mereka di masa yang muram dan berat ini.

Setelah Zakaria mengepang rambut, mobil keenam berhenti di hadapannya. Ada dua lelaki dalam truk itu. Mereka tak keberatan ia menumpang, malah memintanya naik buru-buru dan duduk di jok depan.

Zakaria duduk dekat pintu, setelah lelaki yang tadi duduk di situ menggeser badannya ke tengah. Pengemudi truk dan temannya menyangka ia baru turun dari bukit. Truk ini membawa alpokat, kol, dan kentang dari Takengon, daerah pegunungan yang jauh dari sini.

Ketika sampai di kota, si pengemudi menghentikan laju truknya di muka pasar. Zakaria pun turun di situ, lalu berjalan kaki ke rumah kakaknya. Satu hari yang melelahkan telah usai.

Ia bersyukur masih selamat dan pulang ke rumah dalam keadaan segar-bugar. Seperti pagi kemarin, Zakaria kembali berbaring di kasurnya, di markas perabotan. Ia kini sudah mandi dan keramas.

Matanya benar-benar mengantuk, sehingga kasur tipis itu terasa empuk. Sebelum matanya terpejam dan alam nyata berganti mimpi, ia mendengar pintu kamarnya dibuka orang.

Perempuan berkerudung melangkah masuk, lalu pelan-pelan mendekati tempatnya berbaring.

“Dik, cepat sekali kau pulang. Bagaimana barang kita?” bisik perempuan itu.

Zakaria segera bangkit dan duduk di kasur. Kepalanya pening sebelah. “Tidak sampai ke tujuan, Kak. Panjang ceritanya,” katanya, lirih.

Wajah kakaknya langsung muram. “Dua ratus kilogram ganja hilang begitu saja dan tak ada uang sepeser pun kau bawa. Apa ceritaku nanti pada Panglima? Bagaimana mereka beli senjata?,” rutuk kakaknya, panjang-pendek, tapi tetap berbisik.

“Bukan hilang, Kak, tapi kami tinggalkan dengan truknya sekalian. Geuchik Syawal ternyata bukan orang sakti, Kak. Dia itu pembohong.”
“Kalau dia sakti sudah lama dia kaya-raya, tak payah cari makan. Orang macam dia masih kau percaya juga,” desis kakaknya.

Zakaria terdiam.

Kakaknya kemudian bergegas ke pintu, seraya beramanat, “Ingat ya, jangan sampai Abang kau tahu kerja kita.”

Suami-istri tiap malam tidur seranjang, tapi isi kepala sendiri-sendiri, batin Zakaria.

Abang iparnya kepala polisi. Tiap kali mereka makan malam bersama, abangnya selalu memaki orang-orang yang nekad mendirikan negara sendiri. Kakaknya tak pernah menanggapi. Ia selalu sibuk mengunyah-ngunyah atau mengedarkan piring lauk-pauk dan sayur.

Seharian itu Zakaria tak ditegur kakaknya.

***

Dewi Anggraeni lahir di Jakarta, Indonesia dan sekarang tinggal di Melbourne, Australia tempat beliau mengajar di Sekolah Penelitian Kemasyarakatan dan Politik, Jurusan Ilmu Sastra, di Universitas Monash, Melbourne.

Selain sebagai perwakilan majalah Tempo untuk Australia, beliau juga penulis berita tetap untuk The Jakarta Post, Pesona, Femina dan sejumlah media cetak lainnya.

Selain sebagai penulis kisah rekaan dan kisah nyata dalam bahasa Indonesia dan Inggris, beliau juga seorang peneliti masalah kemasyarakatan yang diakui.

Karya beliau telah diterbitkan di Australia, Indonesia, Hongkong, Korea Selatan, Inggris, Belanda, dan Amerika. Anda dapat menemukan daftar karya penerbitan Dewi yang lengkap di www.indrabooks.com, www.equinoxpublishing.com, dan www.mizanpublishing.com

Karya kisah nyata Anggraeni yang terakhir berjudul, Mereka Bilang Aku China; jalan mendaki menjadi bagian bangsa. – Bentang Pustaka, Indonesia – Oktober 2010 ISBN 978-602-8811-13-2 dan Breaking The Stereotype; Chinese Indonesian women tell their stories. – Indra Publishing – Australia – November 2010 – ISBN 978-192-0787-19-6.

***

ZAKARIA

Zakaria lies in his room, deep in thought. His room is not just his room. It is a storage area for miscellaneous pieces of furniture and bric-a-brac, where his sister keeps kitchen utensils and eating implements taken out only for ceremonial and religious gatherings, or when hosting family guests from out of town.

The cobwebs with trapped bugs that drape the piles are testimony to the fact the room has long slipped from the attention of the house’s permanent residents. In the middle of rice pans, platters, saucepans, plates, bowls, and drinking glasses, a crumpled, old, thin mattress was placed to accommodate Zakaria. The skinny man with waist-long, thick, black, greasy, musty smelling hair lay quietly, staring into the space. His face occasionally creases into a smile. In his mind’s eye he sees the people he has selected to take part in the operation planned for later in the afternoon. First and foremost there is Geuchik Syawal who possesses magical powers. He can disappear at will, not only from sight, but also from touch and smell. This is a very useful gift. He carries an amulet made of a cat’s bone. Thanks to this amulet Geuchik Syawal eluded everyone’s attention after drinking too much Stephenson, the only affordable spirits for locals like him.

His own wife, as she went backward and forward hanging her laundry in the yard, didn’t see him slouched against the base of a coconut tree beside the chicken coop.

Zakaria heard the story from friends who in turn learned of Geuchik Syawal’s incredible powers from gossip in the village. Curiously, Zakaria is reluctant to ask Geuchik Syawal to confirm the story. He worries that the truth will only disappoint him, and worse still, undermine the mental strength he needs to confront difficult situations. The story about Geuchik Syawal’s cat’s bone amulet has become a true story, the source of inspiration for so many people, especially the powerless and oppressed, to regain their will to live by resorting to seeking help from inanimate objects.

However, not all types of cat’s bone are suitable for amulets. The bone must come from a black-furred, red-eyed cat. To obtain the bone of such a cat for this purpose is not easy, either.

The amulet hunter must chase and catch a black cat, and then examine each eye carefully the way a doctor examines a patient. Black-furred, red-eyed cats have become rare thanks to the number of cat’s bone amulet hunters hunting them to near-extinction. If you are lucky enough to find one, don’t jump up and down with glee yet. You still have a long way to go.

You must follow the steps of the prophet Abraham when he sacrificed his son Ishmael to God. First, treat the cat as if it were your beloved pet. Become so attached to it that you forget the cat has no use in your life. At the peak of this attachment, slaughter the animal. Harden yourself and shut out the memory of the cat snuggling up to you on the couch and in all trustfulness, fall asleep in your lap.

At this stage, your experience will differ from Abraham. As written in the holy book, God saved Abraham from extreme tragedy by trading his son with a lamb. However the cat you slaughter will really die. It won’t get up and walk away after you kill it. Next, bury it at the meeting point of two roads without anyone seeing or knowing what you do. When you know the flesh of the cat has decomposed and integrated with the earth, dig up the grave accompanied by a most trusted friend. Ask your friend to watch as you touch each and every bone of the dead cat. Not every bone contains magic. Only the bone that makes you disappear when touching it can be used as an amulet.

Zakaria obtained this secret recipe to make cat’s bone amulets from an old healer, who was his sister’s neighbor. He learned it by heart.
Before he met Geuchik Syawal face to face, Zakaria had tried to round up his friends to look for a black-furred, red-eyed cat. However, none of them managed to catch a cat despite spending two weeks wandering around fish markets and staking out rubbish bins. But Zakaria didn’t give up easily. He set out a cat trap in the side yard of his sister’s house. Two days later he found his sister’s hen pacing nervously inside the trap.

If you stand close enough, being in the presence of the owner of a cat’s bone amulet can make you also disappear. Zakaria is aware of this. Inviting Geuchik Syawal to be part of his operation isn’t without a hidden motive. Apart from Geuchik Syawal, he’s also asked Taufik, his childhood buddy, to join them. Taufik has no amulet. However he is always happy to involve himself in anything related to amulets. He once helped Zakaria chase a black cat. When other friends had given up and began to avoid fish markets and rubbish bins, Taufik persevered. His steadfastness was not lost on Zakaria, who repaid him with this special invitation.

In the afternoon, a truck carrying three cheery men drives along the road. Geuchik Syawal is behind the steering wheel, Zakaria in the passenger seat, and Taufik between them. Geuchik Syawal has been smoking since they started their journey.

Under a tarp in the truck bed is a secret cargo bound for Java. There are guards everywhere. They have to be careful, but knowing Geuchik Syawal’s magical powers reassures Zakaria.

The truck drives for hours through the night. The roads are deserted. “If you can manage it, make this vehicle invisible too, Chik Wal,” Zakaria says suddenly.

“Why, of course,” Geuchik Syawal laughs.

People still address him as geuchik, though at his own request he has long retired as the village head. He prefers operating his own business to fielding grievances from the villagers, which gave him a constant headache and high blood pressure.

A cat crosses the road in front of them, a white cat with dark stripes. The headlights on the vehicle don’t cause it to hurry. Geuchik Syawal quickly avoids the animal. Aside from being endowed with magical powers, he’s also a skillful and reliable driver.

“What kind of warning was that?” Taufik asks.

“Nothing short of an omen,” Zakaria jokes.

Geuchik Syawal doesn’t say a word.

After the incident with the cat, car headlights appear in the distance. Zakaria’s heart misses a beat. They are heading for a serious problem.

“We’re going to be caught, we’re going to be caught,” Geuchik Syawal mumbles, and pulls over.

Zakaria watches the man open the door of the truck and rush toward the woods. At first he thinks Geuchik Syawal is calling on his amulet to prepare for their disappearance together. Taufik jumps out of the truck, hot on the man’s heels, and they both disappear altogether in the dark. Zakaria is stunned. He quickly catches on that things are not going as planned.

He moves fast, opening the door and getting out. However he doesn’t run after his friends into the dark, but drops on all fours and crawls under the truck to hide behind a back wheel.

Soon after that, several cars approach and stop near the truck. Uniformed men speak in loud voices. They rush up and surround the truck, opening and slamming doors. Someone is grunting and mumbling angrily that he can’t find the ignition key. Someone else asks a colleague to stab his bayonet into the tarp on the truck bed, to make the people possibly hiding inside scream, and they can catch them red-handed.
Zakaria feels blood drain from his whole body. He shakes like a leaf. “Stab it, stab it!” someone yells with an out-of-town accent.

He watches the booted feet pace. Sometimes they stop with only the wheel between them. Zakaria has trouble breathing. His throat seizes up.

One of the uniformed men orders everyone to move on and continue their journey. He is probably the commander of the company and beginning to worry that the truck is only a decoy set up by enemies to attack them.

They don’t stay long enough to pull the tarp aside to discover the secret cargo. Heavy steps finally move away. Car engines rev up.
Zakaria waits for half an hour before making a move. He calms himself until his heartbeat is almost normal. After making sure it is safe, he crawls out from under the truck and steps into the woods. He trips several times over bumps on the ground before he sees a light in the distance.

He is overcome with relief, thinking the light comes from a gardener’s hut. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want to startle anyone. He only wants to sleep nearby, grateful he has been saved from danger. A few meters from the hut, Zakaria stops in his tracks. A dog barks loudly.

Zakaria realizes that the hut is not inhabited by humans, but by several heads of cattle. The strong odor of animal dung reaches his nose. The dog is obviously tasked to look after the cattle.

He decides to retrace his steps away from the hut. The dog doesn’t stop barking. He trips and falls, on a pile of cow dung. Zakaria doesn’t take time to curse. He has to hurry if he doesn’t want to be mauled by the dog.

He keeps walking among the trees, exhausted and disoriented. He comes across a road, but is still wary. What if he is too close to the truck? Geuchik Syawal and Taufik have actually disappeared. Did they manage to reach a village? Are they hiding in someone’s yard? Did the amulet or simply darkness protect his two disloyal friends?

Zakaria stands on the roadside, flagging down passing vehicles. Headlights shine on him but not one vehicle stops to give him a lift. In fact, they speed up as soon as their headlights catch his shape, the force of the moving vehicles send Zakaria staggering backward.

Five vehicles pass displaying the same behavior. The road becomes quiet again and Zakaria despairs. His body smells of cow dung. He is exhausted. His belly growls from hunger. He is cold to the bone.

Eventually it dawns on him the drivers must have thought him a ghost with his long, unruly, waist-length hair blowing in the wind. From a distance, he probably looks like a creature from another world.

Stories about the ghost of a woman with long hair in Padang Tiji later spread from village to village, and finally reached Zakaria. He has to listen to his friends’ gossip about the ghost day and night. No doubt someone who died unnaturally. Before being killed, she was locked up in that big house and raped. She wasn’t a Padang Tiji local. She was from another village. Zakaria wants to tell his friends the true story, but decides against it. Let them be entertained by their superstition in these hard times.

Zakaria braids his hair and the sixth vehicle stops in front of him. The two men in the truck don’t mind giving him a lift, and invite him to sit in the front seat.

He sits close to the door after the passenger shifts to the middle. The truck driver and the passenger think he’s come down from the hills. They are transporting avocados, cabbages, and potatoes from Takengon, a mountain region far away.

On arriving in town, they drop him outside the market. Zakaria walks from there to his sister’s house. He has had an exhausting day.
He is grateful to be home in one piece. Zakaria goes to lie on his mattress in the middle of furniture and kitchen implements. He’s had a shower and washed his hair.

He is so sleepy and tired the thin crumpled mattress feels soft. Just before his eyes close and he enters the world of dreams, he hears his door open.

A woman with a scarf over her hair approaches the spot where he is lying.

“You’re home sooner than I expected, little brother. Did you take care of our goods?” she whispers.

Zakaria promptly sits up. His head hurts on one side. “No, Sis. They didn’t get to the planned destination. Long story,” he answers feebly.

His sister’s face darkens. “Two hundred kilograms of hashish down the drain and you didn’t bring home one cent? What will I say to the commandant? How are they going to buy arms?” his sister hisses angrily.

“It didn’t go down the drain, Sis. We had to leave it behind, truck and all. Geuchik Syawal turned out to be a fake. He has no magical powers. He’s a liar.”

“If he had magical powers he’d be rich. He wouldn’t have to eke out a living. How could you trust people like that?” his sister hisses again.

Zakaria doesn’t answer.

His sister rushes to the door. “Remember, don’t let your brother-in-law know about our secrets,” she warns him.

Zakaria muses: a husband and wife may sleep in the same bed every night, but what each keeps inside their heads is another story.

His brother-in-law is the head of the local police. Every evening, when they have dinner together, he curses the people with the courage to fight for independence. His sister always keeps quiet, and busies herself with eating or rotating side dishes among them.

The next day his sister doesn’t speak to him.

***