by Dan Smith
And, finally, I met Kurt.
He wasn’t as I’d imagined. I’d seen Apocalypse Now, I knew what people called Kurt should look like. Although, maybe not having the ‘z’ on the end of his name made all the difference. He was more Kurt Cobain than Colonel Kurtz. I’d expected someone older, bald and fat, not a young man with long fair hair hanging loose around his face. He had bold features, a strong face to match his athletic body. He was wearing just a sarong tied around his waist, his slim torso bared, a golden tan on his white skin. Around his neck, a red and white patterned bandanna tied in a loose knot.
He stepped down from the longhouse on the left and went straight to Domino, hugging her, holding her long enough to spike something in me that made me want to dislike him. They looked too good together.
‘Good to have you back, D,’ he said. ‘Everything OK?’ His voice was calm and even. Like Domino, he had a slight hint of an Australian accent. It made sense; Australia wasn’t far away. Many people came across to travel around Indonesia.
She nodded. ‘Everything’s fine.’
He broke off the embrace, extended his arm, grasping my hand in his, squeezing it and smiling before looking at Domino. ‘And this is Alex?’ he said.
‘This is Alex,’ she replied.
‘Kurt,’ he said, releasing my hand and putting his arm round my shoulder. ‘So what happened to you?’
‘Alex took a dive,’ said Domino.
‘Coming down the hill,’ I told him. ‘Down past Alim’s place.’
‘Alim’s place? You’ve been up there?’ He glanced at Domino. ‘You see anyone?’
‘We bought a little something. I see Alim’s in charge now.’
Kurt looked back at me, watching me with interest, then he shrugged. ‘Yeah. Took over a few days ago. He’s a bit more difficult, and Danuri likes to show us who’s in charge, but … well, did you get everything you needed?’
Domino nodded.
‘Does it hurt?’ he asked, looking at me.
‘Not so much now. Hidayat did a good job. Hurt like fuck before that—’
‘You met Hidayat as well?’ His eyes narrowed, his mouth tightened, his whole face darkening. ‘What the hell you take him there for, D?’
‘He was in pain,’ she said. ‘I had to do something.’
‘And he helped? Hidayat helped?’
Domino nodded.
‘Was he there? Richard? ’ There was venom in his voice when he said the name. As if it was a word that dirtied his mouth.
‘He was, but he was OK.’
‘So you’ve really given him the tour, D. Alex must be a special guy.’
‘Yeah.’ Domino looked at me. ‘Yeah, he is.’
‘So what you do to it? Broken?’ He shook away his former expression. The smile came back.
‘Dislocated,’ I said. ‘Knocked it right out, so he just popped it back in.’
‘Popped it back in, eh?’
‘Yeah.’ I told him how Hidayat had rolled my arm until everything went back into place.
‘Anterior dislocation,’ Kurt said. ‘Easy enough to put right. Even for a datu like him. But it doesn’t hurt now?’
‘Not really.’
‘You shouldn’t need this any more, then.’ He turned me round and untied the ulos.
‘You some kind of doctor?’
‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘Some kind.’
I let him remove the sling and I stretched my arms in front of me. Everything seemed normal. No pain, no feeling of weakness, just a dull ache. ‘What’s a datu?’
‘Witch doctor.’
‘He said he trained in England. What he did was good.’
‘Hm. Could happen again,’ Kurt said, bundling the ulos in his hands. ‘Probably more chance of it now, I suppose, but you should be fine.’
‘I should take that.’ I reached out to take the cloth. ‘I promised I’d—’
‘You don’t need it any more.’ He walked over to the charcoal pit by the kitchen and tossed the ulos into it. ‘Come on,’ he said, walking back in our direction. ‘Let’s go inside.’
We followed Kurt into the longhouse, leaving the trapdoor open behind us. Despite the lack of windows, the inside of the house was light during the day. The construction was such that the gaps in the wood allowed enough daylight to pass into the building for us to be able to see what we were doing. And, because it wasn’t exposed directly, it was cool inside.
The interior was unlike the longhouse I’d been in last night. This house was a home. The pit by the entrance was filled with a small charcoal fire, beside it a collection of cooking utensils and pots. Close to that, there was a low table with mats on either side, big enough for at least eight people to sit around. There were thin mattresses along the floor, bordering the trough that ran the length of the house, splitting it into two. Most of the mattresses had sausage-shaped pillows on them, folded sheets. Halfway down, a hammock was strung from one side of the house to the central pole. There was room to sleep around twenty people and I guessed the other house would be the same, meaning there was enough room to sleep far more people than I’d seen outside. I wondered if there were others, away from the settlement, or if Kurt was hoping to attract more travellers.
‘Sit down.’ He pointed to the mats on either side of the table.
I lowered myself onto crossed legs and leaned my forearms on the table. A slight discomfort in my shoulder, but not much more. Domino sat beside me, not touching, though, not as close as usual, and when I put my arm on her thigh, she tensed and moved away. I watched her, looking for a sign that something was wrong or that I’d done something I shouldn’t have, but she kept her eyes on Kurt.
‘So was it painful?’ he asked, still standing.
‘Yeah. It was.’
‘And did Hidayat tell you to get to a hospital? That you should get it checked out?’
‘Yeah. There somewhere round here?’
‘Round here?’ Kurt ladled water from a barrel into a pot. He hung the pot over the fire and came back to the table, sitting opposite us. ‘Nearest place would be where Michael was that time.’ He looked at Domino.
‘We’ve already been there,’ she said.
‘Really? After you went to Hidayat? When did you do all this?’
Domino shook her head. ‘Before. Alex’s had some shitty luck since getting here. We both have.’
Kurt looked concerned. ‘What kind of shitty luck?’
‘Bus crash kind of shitty luck,’ said Domino, her words bringing everything back to me in a powerful surge. All the things that had happened since leaving the hospital had been so fast and unexpected I hadn’t had time to think about where it had all started – lying face down in the middle of the road, surrounded by the dead and the dying.
‘A few scrapes, a bit shaken up …’ I could hear Domino saying. ‘Concussion … lucky to be alive … hospital …’
I put both hands on my face and rubbed hard.
‘… all right … ?’
I breathed deep, my head spinning.
‘… all right … ?’
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up. ‘Hm?’
‘You OK, dude?’ Kurt was standing, coming round the table. Domino had one hand on me, a concerned expression. I looked at her fingers, the green varnish on her nails.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘You look like shit. Kind of went all spaced out on us.’
I nodded. ‘Yeah. I’m fine. Tired, but fine.’ I remembered that I hadn’t slept much since leaving the hospital.
‘No shit you’re tired,’ said Kurt. ‘You’ve had concussion, then you dislocated your shoulder. I reckon just about anybody would be tired after all that.’
‘You should sleep,’ said Domino.
‘Yeah. Have some tea, then sleep,’ Kurt agreed, going over to the fire where the water was boiling. He made strong, sweet tea, no milk, and poured it into a glass. He put it on the table in front of me. ‘It won’t make your shoulder feel better, but you need t
o drink.’ He looked at me like he suddenly remembered something. ‘Hey, when was the last time you ate anything?’
So I drank my tea while Kurt brought food for Domino and me. We ate mie goreng from a tin plate, the noodles hot and spicy, a couple of small bananas to finish off, another glass of sweet tea. And when we were done, Kurt showed me to a wafer-thin mattress that didn’t belong to anyone, told me that the sausage-shaped pillow was a Dutch lady.
‘Squeeze her nice and tight between your legs,’ he said. ‘You get sweaty, she’ll soak it right up for you.’
I thanked him and waited for him to leave before I lay down on the mattress, asking Domino if she was going to join me. She was a part of this adventure now, I’d been with her every moment for almost twenty-four hours and I didn’t want her out of my sight.
‘I’m gonna go catch up with some of the guys,’ she said.
‘You mean Kurt?’
‘Among others.’ She watched me. ‘Something bothering you? About Kurt?’
I shook my head, pretending not to have noticed his healthy good looks, his easy nature, his confidence.
‘You’re jealous,’ she said with a hint of a smile.
‘No.’
‘You don’t need to be. He’s—’
‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.’ At least, I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to talk about Kurt. I could feel the sleep rolling over me now that my stomach was full and I was lying down. I just wanted to lie here, with Domino in my arms. ‘Aren’t you tired? You don’t wanna … ?’
‘Not just yet,’ she said. ‘I’ll come back later.’ She made to stand up, but I grabbed her hand and pulled it towards me. I kissed it and held it to my chest.
‘I’m worried I’m going to see her face,’ I said. ‘When I close my eyes.’
‘Whose face?’
‘The woman on the road. I don’t want to see it.’
‘Shh.’ She ran a hand over my head. ‘It’s OK. Close your eyes.’
‘It hasn’t affected you,’ I said. ‘The crash. That girl. It doesn’t bother you. We didn’t really talk about it.’
‘I’ll talk it through with Kurt.’
Again. Kurt. ‘No, stay a while. Stay with me.’ My eyes were closing.
She nodded. ‘OK. Sure.’
‘Just while I fall asleep.’
17
I don’t know how long I slept, motionless, like I hadn’t been in a bed for days. I was exhausted and my body shut down, repairing itself, allowing my mind to settle and process everything that had happened. Images came to me – the bus, the hospital, the old woman reaching out to me, my mother asking for my help – but they came as dreams, not nightmares. They flitted past as images flickering across a screen, haphazard and disjointed. They manifested as the experiences of another person, and I watched them from afar, seeing them in a new light, as if for the first time. And I saw the bright colours of butterflies – butterflies that had been plucked from the air and impaled.
There was nothing to disturb my sleep except for those broken sketches of the past days, but I remember waking, my eyes drowsy, the lids heavy, not wanting to open. It was a moment when everything seemed far away. I wasn’t asleep and I wasn’t awake; I was somewhere between worlds. There were voices, not loud, but agitated. Not shouting, not talking, not whispering, but a combination of all three.
‘What the hell did you think you were doing … You know what’ll happen …’ Snippets of conversation.
‘I didn’t think …’
‘No, you never do.’
Just words, not meaning anything, no context to them.
‘… coming up here …’
‘… Danuri’s not like Hendrik, poor bugger …’
‘What did they do to him?’
I lifted my head, despite the weight of it. Like trying to pull a cannonball from a ship’s deck.
‘Fuck knows. They probably—’
‘Shh, keep your voice down.’
I saw two figures through my half-open eyes. Figures that were blurred by my eyelashes; figures that hushed and became quiet when they saw me moving.
‘He’s waking …’
‘He’s just turning. Dreaming.’
Then Domino was beside me, running her hand over my hair, easing my head back onto the pillow, whispering sounds in my ears, then sleep again.
When I woke it was dark inside the longhouse, but for a lamp at the far end, and I had the distinct feeling that I was alone. I sat up and looked into the shadow reaching out on either side of me, wondering at first where I was. It took a moment for all my senses to come back to me, and I stayed there, rubbing my eyes, finding my bearings, remembering the layout of the enormous room. Outside, there were voices. A guitar strumming, perhaps even someone singing, it was hard to tell.
I stood and walked the length of the longhouse, looking down at the other mattresses as I went, but seeing no signs that anybody else was sleeping here. I came to the trapdoor, which was now shut, and pulled it open, stepping down the ladder into the night. It was much cooler outside than in.
The sounds popped from muffled voices to clear conversations as I climbed down to the clearing below. The lean-to kitchen was lit with two lamps, one on either side, each of which was mounted on a pipe, which in turn was planted in the top of a blue bottle of butane. Close by, but not too close to the butane, a charcoal pit glowed in the half-light. A couple of people were working there, and another was sitting on the open wall of the nearby rice granary, swinging her legs against the carved, painted wood.
On the other side of the circle of stone chairs, close to where Domino and I had first come into the clearing, a small fire crackled, oozing orange across the dirt and merging with the people around it to cast strange and misshapen shadows, which flickered and danced at the edge of the trees. One of those sitting by the fire was playing a guitar, strumming it lightly as if not to disturb the peace of this small pocket of wilderness.
At the wooden table the mah-jong tiles were out again, playing cards too, the animated faces of the players illuminated by the glow from the lean-to kitchen on one side and the orange fire on the other. In all, there were probably a dozen people in the clearing that night.
Helena, the dark-haired Swede whose name I’d managed to remember, was in the kitchen, putting rice onto plates, scraping it from a large metal pan, which she’d taken from its place over the charcoal pit. Beside her, Michael was stirring another large metal pot, lifting a spoon to his lips to taste whatever was inside. As before, he was shirtless, the muscles clear even from where I was standing, some forty feet away.
I glanced around the clearing, taking in everything I could see. A small group of like-minded and friendly individuals coming together to make something for themselves. No aggressors, no arguing, no disagreements. There was no harm here, just a group of people living their life in the manner they chose to live it. Already I had forgotten Hidayat’s warning.
I smiled and soaked it in, thinking I could stay here a while. I sat down on the last rung of the ladder and stayed in the shadows, watching how they went about their lives, and thought this was a good way to spend some time. There weren’t any worries here, no greater responsibility than looking after yourself.
I watched for a while longer, wondering where to go first, who to talk to. I couldn’t see Domino or Kurt anywhere among the people. The only other names and faces I remembered were Helena and Michael, so I made up my mind to head over to the kitchen. Besides, I was starting to feel hungry again.
I moved into the light, catching one or two eyes. I was the new guy and I expected to draw some attention, so I just kept on and hoped I’d get the same welcome from Michael and Helena that I’d had when I arrived. But before I could reach the lean-to, Kurt and Domino emerged from the trees at the far end of the clearing, stepping into the circle of diffused light, just a few seconds later than I did. They were arm in arm, their faces set as if they were deep in serious discussion, then Domino threw back h
er head and laughed like I’d never seen her laugh before. She had never laughed like that with me.
When they saw me watching them, Kurt and Domino shared a glance before heading over towards me. ‘How ya feeling?’ Kurt asked as soon as they were close. Most of the others had returned their interest to whatever it was they’d been doing before, but I still felt a few eyes watching me.
‘Much better, thanks,’ I said, not liking that he and Domino had been alone together. I was confused by their relationship.
‘Your shoulder?’
‘Good.’
‘You want a drink?’
‘Sure.’
We didn’t go to a table, we just sat down in the clearing, close to the charcoal pit, feeling the heat coming off it, warming the side of my face. Domino sat beside me, not Kurt, offering me a bottle. I took it and looked at the clear glass, no label at all.
‘Water,’ she said.
I took a swig and swallowed the lukewarm liquid. It slipped down my throat, clearing away the gritty feeling, soothing it, and I took another drink before returning it to Domino.
‘So what d’you think of our home?’ Kurt asked, putting his arms behind him, leaning back, his hair falling over his shoulders. His confidence reminded me of Domino. His easy nature, his healthy appearance made me even more aware of myself. I felt pale and constrained in comparison. My own hair cropped short, my skin ashen, my eyes dull.
‘It’s cool,’ I said. ‘I like it.’
‘Domino tells me you’re on your own. No family.’
I looked at Kurt, seeing just one eye because the other was in shadow.
‘You want to stay? Let this be your family?’
I bit the inside of my lip and thought about what he was saying.
‘It’s not everyone gets an offer,’ he smiled. ‘Don’t think about it too long.’
The way he said it made me feel uncomfortable, but I was about to tell him that yes, I would like to stay a while, when he spoke again. ‘Domino tells me you’re a traveller, is that right?’