There was once a man who married in his late 20s. His name was Devito, and he was my neighbor across the street. On the day of his marriage, I could tell in his eyes that he had the entire world to him. He was as happy as his soon to be wife.
I was surprisingly invited to attend this wonderous event. I did not feel that I had built a proper connection with him other than being a kind neighbor, but I could not say no. I was probably one of the few people who had an attire that seemed more casual than the men in suits and the women in elegant dresses.
"Thank you for being here." The young groom said. "I appreciate it."
"Congratulations." I said to him and his beautiful bride. She had a well-rounded face, a stunning figure, and clear skin that attract any man's eyes.
The two seemed very much in love. Fast forward 3 years after they have tied the knot, they were still living in the neighborhood as I was. They lived just across the street, and all the other neighbors were happy for the couple. On the unlikeliest of all days in March however, Death had arrived for the young man's wife, in the form of tuberculosis. Like any person who would lose a loved one, the husband was full of sorrow. 3 years may not seem long for most married couples, but for him, I can imagine he enjoyed every second of being with her.
Weeks had past, I started to get worried when I rarely see him go out of his house, let alone get seen by other neighbors. Once, I knocked on his door, and asked him a simple question.
"I must apologize for appearing cold and not showing myself. I will admit that mind has been straight recently." He said as he offered me a glass of water. "I was with her until the end. I was extremely tempted to be near her and hold her hand with mine, giving a sign that she is not alone, but the doctors didn't want me to get infected, or at least they didn't want her disease spread to me. If I was given the freedom, I would have been infected. I wouldn't mind at all."
"I'm sorry but are you insane?" I told him. "What about your parents?"
He sighed. "I'm afraid my parents and I aren't that attached. Sure they appeared at my wedding, but after that it was life like before I was married. I moved out of the house by the time I entered college, moved to an apartment with a friend of mine. I'm also the only child."
"What about your friends?"
"I don't mean to be rude but it's just not the same when I spend time with my wife, and it's also been a while since I really contacted them. I could try but, I don't know, I'm just not feeling it. Ever since I got married, I devoted my time to my job and her. Did I ever tell you or anyone else how I felt after I tied the knot with her?"
"You were happy."
"No, not just that. I felt alive. My mind and soul blew up. This might be awkward to say but, back then, before I met her, I was very very selfish. I only cared about myself. By the time I met her she was working for an organization that cared for the homeless. I felt touched. I even felt embarrassed to be honest, because she was doing something for society, and I wasn't back then. When we dated, I was inspired to do the same as her. It wasn't much but I volunteered as a social worker, even helped some people who lost their homes from a crazy storm in Aceh. I also donated some food to them just like the next sensible person. By the time I married her, I was more than grateful to have a partner in my life, as well whose also become part of my family, and her family at the same time."
He paused. "I didn't want to be like the other guys. What do I mean by that? I didn't want to be the only one who's working and expect my wife to just be the housewife. No! I encouraged her to get a job herself. Sometimes I go home early to take care of the house because she works later than me. Not trying to say that that we don't trust a maid to take care of the house, but hey you can't be too careful. She and I gave each other freedom in terms of what we were going to do and who we met in our lives, who are friends are and so on. We were bounded by marriage but I don't have any control over her. I'm not one of those stingy freakish overprotective husbands who thinks they own their wives just because they own a freaking ring on their fingers!"
"Calm down." I tell him. "You don't have to yell."
"I don't want to be like them."
"Who's them?"
"I had two friends who had issues with their relationships. Both of them ended badly, although one of them ended in a nasty assault charge. As a human being I'm embarrassed by both of them. I wanted to be the best for my wife."
"And you were, until the day arrived." I replied.
"Please refrain yourself from saying that."
I didn't want to make the conversation about his wife longer. He's that attached to her death and I really can't blame him. He needs time.
"Is there anything I can do to help you?" I ask him. He looks up at me.
"Not yet. If I do need help I will let you know."
"We're all worried about you." I tell him about how the neighbors feel about him.
"If you're that worried then I will do everything I can to cope with this situation. I'll probably pay my respects first at her grave. Been doing so ever since she passed away."
"That's noble."
"I just feel the need to. Every Sunday I visit her grave. Sometimes I carry lilies. Those are her favorite."
***
A few days after I last talked to him, all seemed normal and quiet.
At least until one fateful afternoon. The house next door had a son who apparently was more than excited to cook with his mother. He came to my house asking if I could lend him some pepper, and I couldn't say no. Children can be full of passion or excitement. He asked me if I could return a cheese grater he borrowed from my Devito
"Oh it's you." Devito said rather agitated, but accepted the cheese grater. "What a coincidence. I was about to go outside for some groceries, but nobody's guarding the house."
"You could just lock it." I informed him.
"It's not like that." He said before brought me inside. Even if the sun was out, light was barely going through the windows. It felt gloomy inside, and then he brought me to the living room.
My jaw dropped and I was frozen at what was on the couch.
The corpse of a woman was there. She was in morning clothes, and her posture resembled a person standing up right, although she was laid back into the couch. Her face and her body was like porcelain, covered in a dash of peach. Her face seemed sculpted.
"Dearest Octavia." Devito said to the corpse. "You may not remember, but may I introduce you to Pak Hilman. He was at our wedding 3 years ago."
What have you done?" I turned to him. I didn't want to yell, the last thing I need is to attract attention from the other neighbors and make the whole situation worse.
He went over to the sofa and sat next to his "wife". "I will not accept death." He started. "At least not now."
"Death is but only a natural occurrence, for all living things. There's nothing we can do but accept things as it is. You can still be with your wife. Just not like...this"
"Spiritually yes, but it is not enough. I want to feel what I felt with her when she was alive."
He told me the entire thing in detail. A day after I talked to him about his condition, he looked up on the internet on how to preserve corpses, and experimented with the materials. He went as far as going to a hardware store and then buying a shovel. From there, he went to cemetery his wife was buried at. Took him a few hours to dig up the entire body before covering up the grave again, this time with an empty coffin. Though the body had obviously decomposed, he used some wire and old coat hangers to connect Octavia's bones together, then he coated the wire in a thin layer of homemade plaster.
"Didn't realize buying sand cost me a lot." Devito recalled. "But it was worth it."
I sat on the chair opposite of the couch with him and his wife, or at this point I could say corpse wife.
"I find it hard not to say anything." I tell him. "You have to consider this. You'll get in trouble for snatching a body from a graveyard. Somebody, either a grave keeper or a citizen must have saw you at night."
"People don't go to cemeteries at night." said Devito
"But they can be around it, meaning they might have seen you go away." I replied. "This isn't right. Not one little bit." He stood up, making his way toward me, but stopped midway. "You help me with one more thing. Only then I will turn myself and the body back to the authorities.
"And if I refuse?"
"You've seen movies right?" He asked. "Where somebody is forced to do the villain a deal otherwise there will be consequences?"
My eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare do it to me."
"I could, considering you've just saw the evidence of bodysnatching, and I know you could rat me out to anybody if I gave you the chance."
I sighed in defeat, and asked him what he wanted from me.
***
He wanted to recreate his wedding, then honeymoon at home.
This is pure level horror movie stuff right here. This man and his idea of coping with the passing of his wife. Being the only person involved in this, I was asked by him to both a guest and the pastor. By the time I arrived at his home at around eight at night, I ask myself what I did or say to deserve this, but the last thing I need is him doing something more stupid than this.
"You're right on time." he said with a suit on. I might be wrong, but he's either wearing the exact suit 3 years ago, or it's a new suit that looks like it. Regardless, way, he's prepared for this.
I entered his home and made way to the living room. There were some rows of chairs, and he moved the sofa to the left. He had a carpet running through from here to the kitchen, and he had some small neon purple lights on, giving some light. On the carpet, there were small white petals. I wore only a simple collared shirt, yet I can feel the atmosphere he's trying to make. But still…
"I worked all day to prepare this. It'll be quick."
I looked at him."
"Take this passage and read it all until the end. You're going to read out the vows." He explained as he went to the back to get his corpse wife. My eyes were glued on his attempt to bring her body to the front of the chairs, which apparently are meant to be imagined with actual guests. The corpse's arms were wobbly, as with the legs, but again, they were connected with wire. Wire.I made my way to the front table in front of the chairs. There was pictures of him and Octavia during their days before marriage. Poor bastard, I thought of him.
"Ready when you are." He told me firmly, before his mouth slowly morphed into a smile into Octavia's lifeless eyes made out of glass.
I slightly gulped as I had the passage of text on the table, reading from there.
"Dear friends, family and fellow acquaintances. We are gathered here today for a moment of unity, shaped by the powerful bonds of love between Devito Jaya and Octavia Alika Prismati." I paused as Devito's eyes were slowly focused on my reading. "Though there can be dark events that occur on this brave earth, it is the duty of both the husband and wife to protect one another from the influence of such events; to be there for each other, for better or for worse, in the moments of happiness and the moments of despair. May you both serve each other for as long as you both live, and not be separated by anything except death itself."
I paused again as Devito raised his hand.
"No need for vows." He recalled. "For she and I both know eternal promise we must keep. You may go to the end."
I raised the paper to get a better lighting, and took a deep breath. "Then I, Anggoro Hilman, now pronounced you, husband and wife. May the eternal bond between you two last in both life and death."
Devito raised the veil on Octavia's face, and cupped her cheek with his hand.
Forever and always, he said to the corpse.
Those were the last words I heard Devito say before he would eventually be separated once more. He turned himself in the next day, and what he did went straight on the news.
Octavia's body would be returned to the cemetery for a proper reburial, and Devito went straight to a special place for the mentally ill.