by Lestari, Dee
CHAPTER 2
MOVING TO BANDUNG
August 1999
“Where’s Keenan?”
The man asking the question was tall—and sturdy for someone in his early fifties. He was wearing running shorts and a plain white T-shirt, and had been pacing back and forth for some time now.
“Probably still sleeping,” his wife replied. She was preparing two cups of milky coffee, and the task appeared to be taking up most of her attention.
“How can he sleep at a time like this? We’re more nervous about his exam results than he is,” the man complained.
His wife heard a sound at the front door. “Oh! I think the paper’s here!”
The two of them scrambled to open the door, then the newspaper, turning the pages until they came to a long list of names.
“Here he is! He got in!” his wife exclaimed, almost choking with emotion as she pointed at the page.
There it was. Clear as day.
“Let’s wake him up,” he said.
“Oh, let him sleep as long as he wants. Poor Keenan. He’s been staying up late every night.” His wife’s tone was gruff, but then her face blossomed into a smile. “He’s done well, and now we can relax.”
But Keenan had heard the news. It was impossible not to in their cozy cottage. They lived in East Jakarta, and though the size of the property was considerable, his father had asked the architect to keep the house small to make the most of their lush green surroundings. As he lay in bed, he curled up into a ball, hugged his knees to his chest, and asked himself whether it was wrong not to feel as happy as they did. Wasn’t he content that he had succeeded, and that his success had brought happiness to others? And hadn’t he grieved long enough over the betrayal of his own dreams?
Keenan’s eyes remained fixed on the blank canvas next to his bed, its emptiness the only answer he received.
There was a stream a few blocks from Kugy’s house. Its water was a muddy brown, but unlike most of the other streams in the city, which were congested, its current ran smooth. When Kugy had first moved to Jakarta, she’d realized that every place she had ever lived had flowing water nearby. It was as if something, or someone, wanted to make sure she continued doing what she did—writing letters to Neptune.
Kugy remembered how it had all started. At the time, her family had been living in Ujungpandang. Their house had been near the ocean, and she had spent most of her days at the beach. It was Karel, her oldest brother, who had first told little Kugy that she was an Aquarius. The water bearer. Little Kugy had imagined that she had been dispatched by the god Neptune to live on dry land. As it was a spy’s duty to routinely report to headquarters, Kugy began telling Neptune about everything that was happening in her life.
She sent the first letter as soon as she had learned how to write, folding it into a paper boat and setting it out to sea. From then on, Kugy stopped by the beach almost every afternoon, sending Neptune letters filled with stories or drawings.
When it came time for their family to move, Kugy had protested, for it meant they couldn’t live near the beach anymore. She only stopped sulking when Karel explained that wherever they were, as long as there was flowing water, Kugy would still be able to send these letters. All water flows to the sea. That’s what Karel had told her as he wiped the tears from Kugy’s cheeks.
“All rivers flow to the sea?”
Karel nodded.
“All reservoirs flow to the sea?”
Karel nodded again.
“All gutters flow to the sea?”
Karel continued to nod.
Only then was Kugy satisfied. Even though they never lived near the ocean again, wherever they moved, their house always happened to be near flowing water of some sort. So Kugy was certain her letters would continue to reach Neptune wherever she lived, including the house they lived in now.
She sent fewer and fewer letters over time. Now that Kugy was older, she knew that Neptune didn’t really exist. She knew that by the time her letters made it to the ocean, all that would be left were meaningless microscopic shreds. She knew they probably never even made it to the ocean at all. Yet, though she couldn’t explain why, in her heart of hearts, Kugy still wanted to believe it was true. Nor could she explain why the sight of those paper boats, carried out on the water, set her soul at ease.
That morning, she was standing by the stream. There were street kids playing in an alley nearby, and their shouts rang in her ears. But Kugy didn’t mind. She gazed at the current of brown water flowing in front of her. Carefully, she took something out of her pants pocket. A paper boat. Kugy couldn’t remember the last time she’d set one afloat from there. She had neglected her duties as a spy for the underwater kingdom for too long. For some reason, her upcoming departure for Bandung had moved her to write to Neptune once more—this time a short letter containing only a few sentences.
Nep,
I’m moving to Bandung. I’ll find my stream. Until we meet again.
The street kids spied the paper boat. Amidst a hail of stones, fishhooks, leaves, and anything else they could get their little hands on, it sailed on, undisturbed.
A curly-haired boy wearing a middle school uniform ran toward the cottage, opened the white wooden gate, and hurried inside. The boy’s features were strong and well defined, and his skin was fair, though its sunburnt ruddiness made him look like one of the tourists who came to surf at Kuta Beach in Bali.
He looked around anxiously, but when he saw his parents’ car still parked in the garage, his breathing relaxed. There was even a spring in his step as he opened the front door.
“Mom! Keenan hasn’t left yet, has he?” he asked as he entered, just to make sure.
His mother smiled and shook her head. “No, he hasn’t. But if you want to come see your brother off at the station, you have to take a shower.”
Keenan emerged from his room and, at the sight of his grubby, sweat-drenched little brother, he grinned. “Disgusting, isn’t he, Mom? And all the girls still fall for him.”
Jeroen’s face reddened. His thoughts flew to the letters and photos that the girls at school were always slipping into his bag, and he tried to guess how many of them Keenan had discovered.
“You’re lucky you’re leaving,” their mother joked. “I feel like his personal receptionist. Every time I answer the phone it’s for him.”
Quietly, she regarded her two sons, six years apart in age. She was struck anew by how different they were. Jeroen—extroverted, athletic, and agreeable—loved organizing activities and attending social events. He was a carbon copy of his father. Keenan, on the other hand, was introverted and gentle. He hated crowds and preferred to spend his time painting. He was a carbon copy of herself. Nevertheless, Keenan and Jeroen looked out for and admired each other. They were inseparable, like two magnets. Jeroen looked up to Keenan, and Keenan alone. And Keenan loved Jeroen more than anything in the world. Keenan’s departure for Amsterdam had devastated Jeroen. It was as if someone had broken his heart. And now he had to let his brother go again, this time to attend university in Bandung.
“Mom, c’mon, let me skip school today,” Jeroen pleaded. “I want to go to Bandung, too. I want to see Eko.” His request had already been denied out of hand by their father, and now he was trying his luck with their mother.
No dice. His mother shook her head. “No can do, Jeroen. You have to go to school.”
“Mom, are you sure Eko’s going to pick me up?” asked Keenan.
“Yes, yes. I’ve already spoken with him on the phone. What’s the problem?”
“I don’t remember what he looks like. He probably doesn’t remember what I look like, either. We were in elementary school the last time we saw each other.”
Jeroen seized his chance. “See? That’s why I should go, Mom! I can help him find Eko.”
It made their mother smile to see the two of them working together to make her change her mind.
Eko, Keenan’s cousin, had been living in Bandung si
nce high school. And now both of them were going to attend the same university. When Keenan and Eko were in elementary school, before Keenan had left for Amsterdam, they’d been close. But this would be the first time they had seen each other since then.
“I see where you’re coming from, Keenan,” his mother answered, giving Jeroen a sideways glance. “But I’ve already told Eko to carry a sign with your name on it. You’ll find each other, even if you don’t recognize each other anymore.”
They heard their parents’ bedroom door open, and out stepped their father. Even though he’d gotten permission to miss work in order to see Keenan off to Bandung, he wore his usual dress shirt and tie.
“Is everything packed?” he asked, picking up the car keys from the table.
“Yes, Dad,” said Keenan, standing beside his one bag.
“That’s it?”
“We’re mailing the rest,” answered Keenan’s mother, glancing at the boxes of painting supplies stacked in the corner.
Keenan’s father took a deep breath. It was impossible not to notice the change in his expression. Keenan saw it all too clearly. At that moment, it was if a cloud had descended on the room. One by one and without a word, they began loading the car.
It was Kugy’s firm belief that there was nothing better than curling up under a warm blanket in one’s room on a rainy day. She finally felt settled in her new room in Bandung, and it was her mission to spend the afternoon in bed, dreaming sweet dreams. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to lock the door.
A ray of light from outside briefly illuminated the dark room, followed by a flurry of footsteps and a shrill voice breaking the peaceful stillness in which Kugy had been cocooned.
“Kugy! Wake up! Let’s go!”
The mound underneath the blanket failed to stir.
“Eko’s already outside. Fuad will stall if he turns off the engine. Hurry up!”
Kugy mumbled, forcing Noni to take more drastic measures. With one swift motion, she pulled off the covers and sprinkled her friend with water from a glass beside the bed.
Kugy recoiled and sputtered. “I’m being attacked! This is an invasion of privacy!”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Come on, get up!”
Kugy forced herself into a sitting position, eyes squinting, hair a mess. “Since we’re going to be living next door to each other for four more years, I’d like to establish some ground rules. Number one: my afternoon nap is sacred. Especially when it’s raining out. You should have entered this room on your knees. You should have kowtowed at the foot of my bed . . .”
Noni ignored her friend’s sermonizing. “Let’s go. We’re picking up Eko’s cousin from the station. His train arrives at five. I’ll get out your clothes. What do you want to wear?”
Kugy opened her eyes. “Hold on, hold on. Eko has to go because it’s his cousin. You have to go because you’re Eko’s girlfriend. But why get me involved in all this?”
“Well . . . Fuad’s been having problems again. If he stalls, he’ll need a push. And if he needs a push, we’ll need more manpower.”
Kugy’s jaw dropped. “So you roused me from my hallowed slumber to enlist me as reserve manpower in case Fuad breaks down?”
“That’s about the shape of things.” Noni shrugged. “Can’t be helped.”
“This is rude! Just plain rude,” Kugy grumbled as she got out of bed. “Who do you think I am? Treating me like some car-pushing coolie—”
“So what are you going to wear?”
“This!” Kugy pointed to the clothes she had on: a pair of faded batik bermudas and an oversized T-shirt with the words “Lake Toba” printed on it. The fabric of the T-shirt was so stretched out and thin that it looked more like a cleaning rag.
“Hey, you’re not mad, are you?”
“No, no. I’m just dressing the part, that’s all,” replied Kugy, grabbing a denim jacket from a hanger. “I’m a coolie, aren’t I? Come on, let’s go!”
Noni regarded her friend with concern. A clump of Kugy’s shoulder-length hair was sticking up, as if she’d tried to arrange it in a bouffant but given up halfway. Her T-shirt really was on the verge of falling apart at the seams. It didn’t help that the denim jacket she was wearing was way too big for her—Kugy had snatched it off Karel seconds before boarding the train for Bandung. There was also the plastic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles watch she never took off her wrist. And completing the spectacle that was Kugy’s outfit for that afternoon was a pair of electric-pink flip-flops, which she also wore when using the boarding house’s communal bathroom.
Nevertheless, out Kugy strode, ready to take on the world. She was immediately greeted by Eko, who doubled over with laughter at her appearance.
“Great! You look like you’ve gone broke and insane,” he exclaimed as he rummaged in his backpack for his camera. “Ready . . . one, two, three, and pose!”
Without missing a beat, Kugy adopted a weightlifter’s stance and flexed her arms.
“Perfect. I’ll print them out in 5R and post them all over the bulletin boards on campus.”
“You mean 10R, Eko. Magazine quality. Come on.”
“Crazy people are so happy when you humor them,” said Noni, pointing at Kugy, who was examining herself in the windshield. “Look at that face. Positively ecstatic . . .”
Upon realizing just how strange she looked, Kugy chuckled appreciatively.
As he watched her, Eko began to look as concerned as Noni. “Hey, you know how much gas costs, right? And I can’t turn off the engine because I’m afraid it’ll stall. But if you really want, I’ll give you five minutes to change.”
“Instead of wasting five minutes’ worth of gas, just use the money to buy me a drink. Being a coolie is thirsty work! Let’s go!”
With that, the matter was closed and off the yellow Fiat 124S sped, through the wet streets of Bandung.
In the station, a sea of passengers had been surging past them for ten minutes now, and still the three friends hadn’t found the person they were supposed to pick up.
“Are you sure he took the five o’clock train? Why isn’t he here?” Kugy asked Eko, who was frantically scanning the crowd.
“I’m sure he was on this train. The real problem is I don’t know what he looks like.”
“What?” exclaimed Kugy and Noni in unison.
“And you didn’t think about making a sign, Grandpa?” Noni asked, slugging him on the shoulder.
Eko gave an embarrassed grin. “I forgot to bring it.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Noni exclaimed. “I would have gone looking for a pen and paper!”
“Relax. My cousin’s face is very unique. I just don’t know what it looks like, that’s all.”
“When was the last time you guys saw each other?” asked Kugy.
“Elementary school,” Eko answered, half-mumbling.
Kugy and Noni exchanged glances. While Noni resumed scolding Eko, Kugy took off for the station entrance.
She was already at a considerable distance when she turned and yelled, “Eko! What’s your cousin’s name?”
“Keenan!”
“Keenan?” she repeated. At that exact moment, a horde of passing people cut them off from each other’s view. Kugy hoped she’d heard him correctly. “Keenan . . . Keenan . . . ,” she repeated to herself as she walked.
Not too far away, Keenan thought he heard someone calling his name. The sound seemed to be coming from a young woman who looked his age and was moving in his direction. Keenan studied her with great interest. He was sure he didn’t know her. He’d never met anyone so strange looking in all his life.
Hesitantly, Keenan approached her and fell into step beside her. She took big steps for a person with such tiny legs. She was fast, too. “Excuse me . . .”
Surprised by the young man who had suddenly appeared at her side, and who was now blocking her path, Kugy stopped.
Keenan studied her again. She was petite, only as tall as his chin. She looked as if she coul
d be in middle school. She had no fashion sense. Her hair gave the impression she’d been electrocuted. Her eyes were wide, almost menacing. Keenan suddenly regretted approaching her at all.
“What do you want?” Kugy asked loudly.
With great effort, Keenan suppressed a sudden urge to smile. So, here he was face-to-face with a kitten attempting to act like a lion.
“Never mind,” said Keenan, flustered. “I thought you were someone else. I thought . . . ummm . . . sorry.” He flashed a wide smile and beat a hasty retreat. Yet, even as he did so, he knew in his heart he would never forget that face.
Kugy nodded curtly and resumed walking toward the information kiosk. Once she was sure she had left him far behind, she let out a deep breath. She didn’t mind being mistaken for somebody else. But the guy she’d just met was the most attractive creature she’d ever seen—at least, since the introduction of Therrius in the Candy Candy comic book series. Still, Kugy told herself, one should always be wary of strangers, especially friendly ones. She refocused her attention on finding Eko’s cousin. Poor guy, she thought, and tried to put the stranger out of her mind.
CHAPTER 3
MOTHER ALIEN
Noni and Eko had given up hope. Abandoning their spot, they started for the veranda in front of the station. The crowds had begun to thin, and only a few people remained.
“I’ll try calling my aunt,” Eko said. “Who knows? Maybe he did get on a different train. Noni, give me your cell phone. I don’t have enough minutes.”
Scowling, Noni was about to hand him the phone when they heard a familiar voice booming over the station’s loudspeaker.
“Calling Keenan, recently arrived from Jakarta on the Parahyangan train. Again, calling Keenan, cousin of Eko Kurniawan. Your cousin is looking for you and matches the following description: hair, crew cut with a cowlick like the cartoon character Tintin; height, five foot nine; skin, light brown. Big eyes. Long eyelashes. He’s wearing a Limp Bizkit T-shirt and is with two good-looking girls . . .”
