On the carpet my body squirmed, trying to repel mosquitoes while closing my eyes. Now and then I looked enviously at Ajeng who was sleeping soundly under her thick blanket without being disturbed by the buzzing sound of mosquitoes. The faint sound of the dawn call to prayer sounded from afar, and this is the perfect time to return to my room.
Creatures like last night's horror girl are always afraid of things like that, aren't they? But it seems paradoxical with the taboo about children being prohibited from leaving the house after the Maghrib call to prayer.
I lay down for a moment, then a few seconds later my consciousness disappeared quickly. Sadly few hours of struggling to try to sleep were in vain when I felt the heat of the sun hitting my face followed by the noise of my little sister.
"Bro, wake up! Breakfast is ready!"
The pillow under my head moved to my ear, a small attempt to deafen my ears. But as soon as Ajeng reminded me that I had to take her to the bus stop at nine, I forced my body to get up. Half-consciously I ate the eggs and chicken soup on the table, without feeling the need to wash my face or brush my teeth.
Ajeng who ate first chose to prepare the things in the suitcase. she had already showered and was ready to go. Meanwhile, I who was like an undead still needed a morning shower.
The scent of jasmine reminded me of what happened last night, Ajeng was ready at the door while I still had to take my bike from the garage and lock it. I put Ajeng's small bag on the bicycle and used her to ride in the back seat.
"though I have prepared everything, I feel, I don't want to go anywhere. This is the only home for me brother."
That pair of eyes seemed to not want to leave the simple two-floor house of my late father. For almost three years Ajeng spent more time at my father's house than at his father's villa. And for the rest of the time, she was in her dorm, spending time studying, and learning about women's skills. I heard the private school is under the auspices of a foundation affiliated with the Javanese palace - Keraton and the ministry of culture. So in addition to general knowledge, Ajeng is also taught about culture, like regional arts such as drama and dance.
"Okay, I'm ready bro!"
I pedal slowly, keeping my balance to keep the suitcase behind me in place. Likewise with Ajeng keeps it from swaying to the right or the left. Luckily the road to the bus stop is not too uphill or downhill, because if so, it will be difficult to pedal the following bicycle with Ajeng and her luggage.
The breeze blew the Angsana branches, A large deciduous tree dropping yellow flowers like autumn. Strange, I could imagine Ajeng behind my back was opening her palms while letting the yellow flower petals fall in her hands.
Five minutes of pedaling slowly made my breath almost out, especially because yesterday afternoon I was cycling up the mountain and also lacked sleep.
"Wow, it's going to rain soon huh?"
The Angsana trees that line the roadside make the red bus stop bathed in yellow flower petals with a faint fragrance. Among the yellow rain, Ajeng stood looking at the branches above her head. That day Ajeng looked more mature than usual with light makeup on her face combined with a brown parka jacket suit. She looks more like an office lady than a high school kid.
"What are you doing?"
"No. Just sit down. The bus is still around thirty minutes long."
That morning there were not many people waiting for the bus, only occasionally did I see motorbikes or trucks passing in front of us. Ajeng returned to being engrossed in her book, even though I remember she had finished the last page. Not wanting to disturb him, I averted my eyes across the street.
My eyes stared at the strange sight of an old geezer dressed in black. The wooden stick in his hand looks like a display just to see how strong he stands for his age. At first glance, he looks like a shaman with a black blangkon - the traditional Javanese headdress. His pair of black eyes contrasted with his white mustache and sideburns did not want to leave me. Even if I turn my face away, I can feel his eyes still look at me.
"Jeng, shhh!"
"Eh, did you say something bro?"
A bus stopped right in front of me, just as I was about to show Ajeng the figure of the old man.
"Ah sorry bro, time to go!"
Half rushed Ajeng took her backpack and dragged her suitcase. She kissed my right hand then she immediately jumped onto the bus. From inside the bus, I saw her waving her hand. I waved her hand back while watching her shadow slowly disappear at the end of the road.
Instantly I remembered the old man across the street, he was not there now. Strangely, the fallen Angsana petals on the sidewalk seemed to indicate that no one had just been standing there. My hunch feels bad. Especially after last night's sighting of that ghost girl.
The scent of jasmine changed to candlenut,
and that's when I realized someone was beside me. Hey, I didn't realize that there was a passenger who got off.
Beside me now, there sat sweetly a little girl with reddish-black hair. She reminded me of Kijing villagers who usually still like to wear jarik - The Javanese traditional clothes worn by wrapping the cloth from the stomach to the ankles, usually have a batik motif. And kebaya - a light, loose tunic with a torso wrap as the undergarment. when doing their daily activity. Even their youngster too.
That little girl smiled politely as she noticed my gaze. I intended to go straight home, but something was holding me back. She seemed to be in elementary school, and strangely enough, she was traveling without an adult. Did kids from that village always like this? Or this was another weird sighting like last night's ghost?
Should I accompany her until she gets a small bus bound for the Kijing Village?
If she gets off at the same time Ajeng leaves, it means she took a bus from out of town. But really? Or did she just happen to come when the bus heading for the city picked up Ajeng?
"Excuse me, are you going to Kijing village?"
"Nggih mas. Lha panjenengan ajeng teng pundi?"
I stuttered to hear the good Javanese language coming out of her tiny lips. Instantly my brain worked hard to remember Javanese vocabulary in my head.
"Su ... geng enjang."
The little girl laughed while covering her mouth. A row of white teeth flashed between her fingers, I could faintly see a pair of canines sticking out like a cat. Again it reminded me of what happened last night.
"Sorry, sir, I can speak Indonesian."
"Ah, glad to hear that. I rarely speak Javanese, I only knew a few words from the last time I worked at a food stall."
"It's okay, People in this city also rarely use Javanese since they're usually a settler. Sorry, it was a habit at home."
I nodded at his explanation, it wasn't until a minute later that another smaller bus arrived. From the outside, I could see some old people with the same dress as her, but with darker and paler colors.
"Excuse me, I gotta go now."
"Oh it's okay, have a nice day!"
For a while, I felt like I forgot that I was just talking to a little girl. When she stood she was no taller than my chest, she even needed to stand on tiptoe to climb the stairs on the bus. Before the driver stepped on the gas pedal, the little girl gave a final smile. The last smile before she vanishes up the road to Sujati Hill.