~~~~~
Two days later, Bandri and Raharjo went on a small expedition. The boy wanted to learn more about honeybees, especially the big wild honeybees that made their large crescent homes under the branches of trees. One of the colonies had built their home quite close to the ground in an old ramin tree, and the bees were clearly visible from a nearby rocky outcrop. As long as they were careful, it was possible to get close enough to see the bees going about their everyday business.
Bandri knew the dangers, especially if they didn’t make smokers; these bees could be lethally dangerous if lots of them attacked. Bandri and Raharjo kept low to the ground and quietly skirted around the ramin tree so that they could then climb up the rock and peer over the top at the colony. They talked quietly as they lay against the rock face and watched:
“See what happens when a bee flies in to join them,” Bandri whispered.
The two waited for a while, looking at the many thousands of closely packed jostling black and orange striped bees that covered the large crescent bee home. A busy humming sound emanated from the dense mass.
“Some of the bees that fly in then start wiggling, and some of them go right inside under the other bees,” Raharjo said.
Bandri looked at the boy with respect, since this observation had taken him years to see.
“How many bees are there?” asked Raharjo.
“I don’t know, but there are lots more than you can see on the outside because there are many other bees underneath – and then underneath them is the comb with honey in the top part and young bees at the bottom part.”
“Bandri.. After you told me about the flowers, I looked at a lot of flowers – and I saw the yellow dust.. What is the dust for?.. I mean is it just for the bees that are collecting it?”
The question was a good one. It was a good question because Bandri felt there had to be an important reason for the flowers to make the dust - and not just to give it away to the bees. It was also a good question because he didn’t know the answer. As he lay there he remembered Ayu telling him in fun that ‘he should be more curious!’
The boy was quietly waiting for the answer.
Bandri chuckled and looked at the boy:
“Raj.. I don’t know – but we’ll try and find out.”
Ayu was doing a simple daily task. Using a long bamboo bristled broom she was sweeping leaves and other debris out of the house. She found it pleasing to see the neat pattern left behind on the sandy pebbled floor, and was amused by her mild preoccupation of trying not to walk on and disturb the newly swept floor.
Something in her body made her pause. Standing up straight she breathed in and tipped her head a little to one side as if listening to herself. She felt it was true. For a number of days she had been wondering. She had felt tingling in her nipples and her breasts seemed more sensitive, but then again it could be her imagination. The regular reminder of her womanhood hadn’t happened recently. Now she felt something in her body that she had never felt before, accompanied by a feeling of nervous anticipation.
She looked out through the door, across the open porch, down to the beach, the surf and the beautiful bay, breathing in the fresh sea air. Her eyes retraced their journey, looking back inside the room at the ornate sea shell in its cot and then their bamboo bed. She smiled wistfully. Her bare feet walked across the patterned floor and she knelt down by the bed. Her fingers felt for and found the golden nugget. She smiled lovingly at the nugget, and looked around for somewhere to keep her gift, her eyes coming to rest on the large seashell in the small hammock.
Ayu put a hand protectively on her still small belly, loving what was happening inside her. Closing her eyes for many moments, she held the seashell and prayed.
The man and the boy walked back along the path towards the village, occasionally stopping to examine flowers along the way.
“See.. nearly all of them have the dust,” observed the boy.
“I have seen bees on most of them. You can see the dust stuck to the bees then they put it on their legs to go back to the nest,” Bandri explained. “To get that much dust they visit lots of flowers.”
“But they don’t take all the dust from the flowers,” said Raharjo.
Bandri raised his eyebrows at yet another insight provided by his young companion.
“Yes, I see what you mean,” he said. “The plants must need it for something.”
They stepped over the low wall and entered the village. Raharjo ran back to Agung’s house, while Bandri walked towards his own house.
On their porch he embraced his wife from behind and kissed the single freckle in the smooth curve where her neck joined her shoulder. She pulled his hand down low over her belly and bent her head back towards him.
“Only you,” she murmured in his ear. “Jus lelaki anda telah membuat bayi yang di dalam.” - “Your man juice has made a baby inside.”
He breathed in all the air his body could capture, somehow shocked by her powerful intimacy and its meaning, marvelling at what she was telling him.
The Tropical Sun - Belief, Love and Hate Page 34
