Paper Boats

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Paper Boats Page 28

by Dee Lestari


  “How about dinner tonight? Seafood?”

  Kugy nodded.

  That night, at their favorite seafood restaurant, Remi decided to urge Kugy to be as open as possible. He took her hands and held them tightly. “This time, you have to be honest,” he said. “What’s really going on with you?”

  Kugy looked at Remi with that same panicked expression from earlier in the day. There was so much she wanted to say but didn’t know how to express. She wasn’t sure Remi would understand.

  “Nothing’s going on. I just really enjoy writing fairy tales. But you’re right. I guess I have trouble separating my hobbies from my professional life.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have a problem with us being in a relationship?”

  Kugy shook her head. “It’s true that being coworkers makes things more challenging, but I don’t think it’s a problem.”

  “And you’re not having issues with anyone else in the office?”

  “No, not at all,” Kugy answered.

  “You don’t like the work anymore?”

  Remi’s question hit the mark. At last, she made an attempt to explain the truth—which, until now, she had found so difficult to share. “Ever since I was little, the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be was a fairy tale writer. I know it must sound silly, stupid, infantile even. What kind of an aspiration is that for someone my age? And I know I sound ungrateful. I have such a good job, and I’m just throwing it away. The problem is, I’ve realized something recently. I can’t force myself to like something I’m not passionate about, even if I am good at it. And I can’t just pretend to forget about all my hopes and dreams. Let everyone laugh at me. This is what I really want. I want to be a fairy tale writer. It’s what I wanted then and it’s what I want now. Nothing’s changed.”

  “So you’re willing to give up your career?” Remi asked.

  “If that’s what it takes, then yes, that’s what I want.” Kugy gave a decisive nod. “If there’s even a sliver of a chance for me to realize my dreams, then I’ll pursue them. And I’m willing to quit the job I have now.”

  She stopped for a moment before continuing. “Remi, that sliver . . . it’s finally here.” She was almost whispering. “I really can’t tell you too much about it. But one thing’s for certain: I don’t want to throw that chance away.”

  “Are you sure?” Remi pressed.

  “Of one thing at least.” Kugy took a deep breath. “That someday, what you call my hobby will be my profession. It’s unlikely I’ll make much money, but I don’t care. You probably don’t understand—”

  “I do,” said Remi, then more slowly, “I really, truly do.” He sighed. “Are you saying you want to resign?”

  Kugy’s expression changed to one of confusion. In the blink of an eye, her year working at AdVocaDo flashed through her mind. Her first meeting with Remi, all the concepts that she’d come up with, all the projects she’d led, the late nights, the lack of sleep, the Toilet Sorority, the paper boat that Remi had given her that night, that momentous night on Ancol Beach. Now here she was, face-to-face with Remi again, about to make an important decision. She was going to leave AdVocaDo—the very place she had taken refuge when she was trying to leave her old life in Bandung behind.

  Solemnly, Kugy nodded. “I think it’s better not to hang on. It feels better for you, for the rest of the team, and . . . it’s definitely better for me.”

  “Then I won’t stand in your way.”

  At that moment, she felt an enormous burden lift from her heart. She hadn’t fully anticipated what her decision would mean. Suddenly, her face broke into a bright smile. She squeezed Remi’s hand and kissed it. “Remi, thank you for understanding. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. As your boss, I’m sad to lose you. You’re one of my best employees. But as someone who loves you, I’m happy you’ve chosen what’s best for you.” Remi smiled gently.

  “I’ll finish all the projects I’m currently working on, and after that, I’ll hand in my official resignation. How does that sound?” Kugy gave him a mischievous look.

  Remi shook his head. “If those are the only conditions, you’ll be done within a week.” A glimmer of a smile appeared on his face. “But I’ll keep you until after the company retreat in Bali in May.”

  “Oh ho-ho! Well, if it means I get to go on the retreat, then it’s a deal!” Kugy cackled gleefully. “I’m shameless, I know. You’d think I was a civil servant.”

  The rest of the night was wonderful. And Remi came to a realization of his own. Kugy’s decision to leave AdVocaDo had set him unexpectedly at ease. For the first time, Remi felt completely free to love her. For the first time, he felt free from the professional restrictions that, up to this point, had cast a shadow over their relationship. And that night, he was even more resolved in his determination to support her and make her happy, whatever the steps his beloved wanted to take to pursue her dreams. It had been a month since they had officially started going out. But never had Remi felt so happy or walked with such a spring in his step.

  Luhde approached her uncle. “Poyan?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Yes?”

  Luhde paused, wondering how to continue. She was used to seeing Keenan almost every day and now she hadn’t seen him for months. She was in torment. She couldn’t begin to express how much she missed him. And she was all too aware of the limitations of her family’s financial situation. But she felt she couldn’t take it any longer. She had to see him.

  “How far is Jakarta from here, Poyan?”

  “It’s only an hour and a half by plane,” said her uncle, still absorbed in his painting.

  Luhde thought about the small amount of money she had saved up. “What about by bus and ferry?”

  “A day and a night,” said Wayan. Suddenly, he gave his niece a sideways glance. “You want to go to Jakarta? What for?” Then he realized. “There’s no point. You should stay here and wait for Keenan to come.”

  Luhde was taken aback by the unexpectedness of her uncle’s response. Quickly, she ran out of the studio.

  CHAPTER 40

  AN OASIS

  May 2003

  Luhde’s mind was made up. Using all her savings, she bought a bus ticket and left for Jakarta. Her uncle was away in Lombok for a week and this was her chance. She was determined to make the trip.

  It was early. The ferry was crossing the Bali Straits to the island of Java. Luhde sat alone on deck, curled up on a wooden seat and gazing out at the ocean. She was wearing sandals, and she covered her feet with her jacket to keep them warm. Luhde had never left Bali. She didn’t have the faintest idea what Jakarta would be like—apart from what she had seen of the city on TV. A scrap of paper with Keenan’s address written on it was her only guide. All she could do was pray for protection along the way.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think only of being at Keenan’s house by evening.

  Luhde didn’t have much money left. She didn’t know what she would do if this wasn’t Keenan’s house. Fatigued by the long journey, her heart beating anxiously, she stood in front of the white house and pressed the doorbell.

  A woman opened the door. Luhde knew the face well.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” she said. In one hand she carried her bag of clothes, in the other a plastic bag full of gifts.

  Lena looked at the girl. She could hardly believe it. “You—you’re Wayan’s niece, aren’t you? Luhde?”

  “Yes,” answered Luhde. She was immensely relieved. She was safe at last.

  When Keenan found Luhde standing on the front terrace of his house, he looked like he had seen a ghost. There she stood, calmly awaiting his arrival. Keenan on the other hand was so surprised he almost drove the car into the garage wall. He scrambled out.

  “Luhde?” whispered Keenan.

  At the sight of him, Luhde was so overwhelmed that she froze. All she could move were her eyes, which grew brighter and brighter, following him as he approach
ed her.

  “How did you get here?” he asked in amazement. He stroked Luhde’s cheek, slowly, as if trying to assure himself she was really there.

  Smiling, she took the laptop bag from Keenan’s shoulder. “Let me carry this for you.”

  Keenan took her in his arms.

  It was Sunday night—time for Keenan to pick up the new manuscript. It was a ritual that Kugy looked forward to. Keenan would appear at the front door, and her little sister, Keshia, would immediately try to attract his attention in a million different ways. Keshia had a crush on him, and this gave Kugy a million different things to tease her about, though she herself got a charge from seeing him. Sunday night could never come soon enough.

  But this week, Kugy felt something strange was going on. She had been waiting to hear from Keenan all day, and she still hadn’t received any word. Finally, she called him.

  “Hello, fellow agent! Are you ready to complete today’s task?”

  “Hi, Kugy,” he replied stiffly.

  “What time are you coming over?” she asked.

  Keenan hemmed and hawed before letting out a heavy sigh. “I can’t tonight. Maybe next week. Sorry.”

  Kugy felt her chest tighten. Keenan’s voice sounded so far away, as if he were speaking from behind a wall. “Sure. Next week is fine. But just wondering—why can’t you come tonight?”

  “I . . . I have a visitor from Bali.”

  “Oh,” murmured Kugy. She hadn’t anticipated this at all. She shut her eyes for a moment and tried to collect herself. “No problemo!” She was proud of how natural she sounded. “But that means we’ll experience some delays. I’ll be gone next week.”

  “Oh yeah? Where to?”

  “It’s a company retreat. We’re going to Bali.”

  Bali? Keenan swallowed. “No problem,” he said, trying to sound as relaxed as possible. “Maybe I’ll have some good news for you after you get back.”

  Kugy’s muscles tensed. Did he say “good news”? Kugy screamed silently. It better not be . . .

  Keenan explained. “I managed to contact someone who collects my paintings and owns a publishing company. He was extremely interested when I told him about our project. He’s been a huge fan of General Pilik for a long time. If he really is interested, it means we’ll be even closer to achieving our dream of creating something together.”

  Kugy’s face broke into a grin. “Keenan, if I were a firecracker, I would explode.”

  “Good thing you aren’t.” Keenan chuckled. “If you blew up, the project couldn’t continue.”

  Kugy laughed, too. “All right then. So see you in two weeks. Give my regards to . . .”

  “Luhde.”

  “Yes. My regards to Luhde,” she repeated.

  “Okay. Bye, Little One.”

  “Bye.” Slowly, Kugy lowered the phone. She had been so happy when Keenan had told her the series might be published. But at the same time, the conversation had made her sad. Once again, reality had slapped her in the face. It was as if life were continually trying to remind her that an impenetrable barrier existed between her and Keenan, and all she could do was accept it, willingly and gracefully.

  They each had made their choice.

  Keenan and Luhde sat in the gazebo behind Keenan’s house, enjoying the warm night breeze.

  “You’re hot,” Keenan said as he wiped the beads of sweat from Luhde’s brow. “The weather here is different than in Ubud.”

  “It really is. It feels better”—she glanced shyly at Keenan—“because I’m with you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?” asked Luhde.

  “Because I’m always working. Even on Saturdays. It’s not like Ubud, where we could be together all the time. You’ve already been in Jakarta for almost three days, and I haven’t even had time to take you out once. All you do is wait for me to come home from the office.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Luhde. “I’m happy here. I can help your mother. Jeroen’s nice, too. They’ve shown me around the neighborhood. And even if I only see you for three or four hours a day, I’m content. You shouldn’t feel bad. I was the one who came without warning on a workday. It’s my own fault.”

  “Luhde, Luhde . . .” Keenan shook his head as he ran his fingers through her long hair. “I can’t stop thinking about how brave you are for coming to Jakarta by yourself. What if Poyan finds out?”

  “I’ll get back before Poyan returns from Lombok,” Luhde answered.

  “When is he coming back?”

  “In three days. I’ll go home the day after tomorrow by bus.”

  “Not by bus,” he said firmly.

  Luhde gave him an anxious look. How else would she get back? She hardly had any money left.

  “I’ll take you,” Keenan continued. “We’ll go to Bali by plane.”

  Luhde’s eyes grew round. “You’re coming to Bali with me?”

  Keenan gave a small laugh and shrugged. “I might as well. It’s better than being in Jakarta and hardly seeing each other. Even though I can’t stay long, we’ll have all day together. I promise I won’t tell Poyan about your coming here—as long as you allow me to accompany you to Lodtunduh.”

  “I feel like a firecracker!” exclaimed Luhde, blushing. “I’m so happy I could explode!”

  Keenan was startled. Kugy had said almost the same thing earlier that night. What it meant exactly, he wasn’t sure.

  The sun beat down on Kugy’s cheeks, making them look like ripe tomatoes. She had been outdoors all day, but she didn’t mind. She scurried to and fro, engaging in various beach activities. She had soared through the air on a parasail; she had ridden a banana boat which had capsized twice; she had tried jetskiing; she had tried it all. And she was still going strong.

  “Attention, friends!” It was Dani, the retreat organizer, on her megaphone. “After this is over, there will be a shopping excursion in Kuta, followed by dinner in Jimbaran.”

  The announcement was greeted with a buzz of excitement.

  “Ugh. Shopping,” Kugy whispered to Remi.

  “What do you want to do then?”

  “I want to take photos. I’ve been lugging around that camera I borrowed from Karel, but I haven’t had time to use it. What would I take photos of in Kuta? There’s nothing but stores.”

  Remi’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered back.

  “Awesome! But how?”

  “Easy. We’ll hail a car and join them in Jimbaran later. How about it?”

  “Let’s do it!” she exclaimed. “Where to?”

  Remi just smiled.

  A great change had come over Wayan in the past few days. He looked happy, cheerful, full of life—and everyone knew why. Keenan.

  Now that Keenan had returned to Lodtunduh, their days of relaxing and chatting in the bale were back. Luhde wasn’t the only one happy about his return. In Keenan, Wayan found the peace he had been longing for, an oasis in the midst of a desert, though he knew it would end in a matter of days.

  That morning, Keenan and Banyu left for Denpasar to take care of Keenan’s return flight to Jakarta, which had been delayed. Then, Luhde went to temple, leaving Wayan alone to enjoy his afternoon in the gallery.

  An unfamiliar minivan pulled up in front. Wayan went out to take a look, and was surprised to see who emerged from the front passenger seat.

  “Remi? How are you? When did you arrive in Bali? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Wayan pelted his visitor with questions.

  Remi laughed. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” The two men embraced.

  “Where have you been? It’s been a while,” said Wayan.

  “Work has been very busy this year. By sheer coincidence, my company is on a retreat in Bali. So I took off for a bit to come to Ubud and drop by.”

  “Please, come in, come in!” said Wayan. “You came alone?”

  “No,” Remi said as he entered the gallery. “But the person I came with wanted to walk around by herself and tak
e photos. The rest of the group is in Kuta.”

  They strolled around the gallery together. Wayan told him about the paintings on display. “There are no paintings by Keenan?” Remi asked, after he had seen all of them.

  Wayan took a deep breath. So Remi hasn’t given up, he thought. “Not yet,” he said.

  “Mr. Wayan, please tell me. Where has he disappeared to?”

  “Keenan . . . Well, he . . .” Wayan hesitated. “There’s a very urgent family matter that came up at the end of last year, and he had to return home. Before he left he told me not to tell anyone about his departure. I’m sorry, Remi. I made a promise.”

  Remi fixed his eyes on Wayan’s face. “I respect the promise you made. But to me, Keenan isn’t just some artist whose paintings I’ve bought. I think of him as a younger brother. I’m surprised he could just disappear and stop painting like this. It’s been so long since the sale of his last work. He hasn’t produced anything for almost a year.”

  “That’s just how it is,” said Wayan, finally. He was stirred by Remi’s genuine concern. “I’ll ask him whether I can give you his number. If he agrees, I’ll let you know as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Wayan. I look forward to hearing how he is.”

  For months Wayan had kept Keenan’s situation a secret from everyone who had asked about him. But Remigius was different. Wayan felt deeply uncomfortable about it all, and knowing Keenan was in Bali at that very moment only added to his discomfort. He hoped Remi and Keenan would meet again somehow.

  CHAPTER 41

  A BOOK AND EXHIBITION

  Kugy felt drawn to this temple for some reason. She had seen it from the car along the way. It was small and quiet, and right beside the road. There was nothing special about it at first glance. Yet Kugy felt she just had to go in. Remi could visit his favorite gallery by himself. With Karel’s camera hanging around her neck, Kugy began to look around for interesting shots and angles. Her manner was that of a professional photographer. Painfully aware of her deficiencies when it came to drawing, Kugy had recently begun to think about finding other ways to compensate—hence, photography.

 

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