by Di Morrissey
I shared the story of the wild woman and her curse with the others over dinner.
‘That’s so creepy,’ said Norma. ‘Do you believe in that magic stuff? I certainly don’t.’
‘It seems the more you learn, the more real it appears. I’ve seen people brought in to hospital convinced they will die because someone has performed magic on them,’ said Evan.
‘And do they die?’ asked David.
Evan nodded. ‘Sometimes, although one could put the death down to any number of health issues besides superstitious beliefs.’
Norma agreed. ‘The health problems here are endless; no wonder their life expectancy is so short.’
‘We do what we can to change things, and can do little more,’ said Mark pragmatically. ‘How’s your bridge coming, Alan?’
‘I think it will be a long time coming. The access road is creating problems. Korupsi, corruption, has reared its head. It’s Rafferty’s rules around here.’
‘Maybe the Chinese should be allowed to run things,’ said Mark lightly. ‘They seem to have a much better head for business. Certainly that’s true of the ones I’ve come in contact with.’
Alan shrugged. ‘You have to be joking, Mark. In my opinion they are the root of all that is wrong with this country. Communists, every last one of them, all working for the Reds in China. As far as I’m concerned, mate, this country will never progress while there are still Chinese in it.’
Mark looked at Alan and replied, quite calmly, ‘Yes, I appreciate that your view about the evil Red Chinese is shared by a lot of other Australians, but all I can say is that when you get to know individual Chinese, like the Tans, then you know that not all the Chinese in Indonesia have communist sympathies.’
After we’d eaten, Jimmy asked me if I’d like to see a puppet show that he had heard was performing on the other side of town. He asked if any of the others wanted to come along, but they all politely declined.
I quite enjoyed the performance of the puppet show, but after a couple of hours we decided that we’d had enough and decided to return to our respective beds for the night. It was late when we headed back towards Norma’s hostel, and we were surprised to see a lot of people still about on the streets. When we asked the betjak driver what was going on, he muttered something about it being a festival.
Jimmy, who was staying with Mark at the Tans’ place as usual, kissed me good night at the entrance to the hostel and left. Norma was asleep when I tiptoed into her room, so I quietly changed into my sarong and climbed under the mosquito net beside her.
I was awakened some hours later by a cacophony of noise that sounded like shouting, banging and even gunshots.
Norma quickly rolled onto the floor beside the bed and put her hands over her head.
‘Get down!’ she cried.
But I wanted to know what was happening. ‘I’m going to see what’s going on!’ I said, crouching down and making my way towards the door.
‘Are you mad? Just get down,’ she said, tugging at my arm.
I heard the voices of other hostel residents, and I snuck out to see if they had any idea what was happening. A few people were milling in the corridor whispering to each other.
‘It’s a riot. Students again,’ said another resident.
‘What’s brought this on?’ I asked, peering out a window. The hostel had been built on a rise and we could see the streets below us. I was worried by the number of people out there, especially as some were brandishing what looked to be guns.
‘I heard that something is going to happen at daybreak,’ said a Swiss pharmacist we knew who was working temporarily at the hospital.
‘There are always rumours. But there seem to be so many people running around; where are they going?’
I caught sight of Evan rounding the corner of the corridor. He hurried towards me and even in the darkened space I could see his face was pale. ‘One of my orderlies has told me that he heard that Sukarno is being released from the palace. That’s what’s causing the riot,’ he said when he reached me.
‘What does this mean?’ I said.
‘I think that if he’s released there will be a lot of bloodshed,’ replied Evan. ‘Too many people don’t want to give him any chance of returning to power.’
Suddenly the night sky was lit up by a flash of fire.
‘They’re throwing fire bombs, torching cars or even houses,’ said Evan, standing back from the window.
‘We should stay here inside where it’s safe. These mobs can get out of control quickly,’ said the Swiss pharmacist.
‘We have friends down there in the town. I hope they’re okay,’ I said anxiously.
‘They should be, just as long as they’re not on the streets. I’m going back to my room,’ said the pharmacist.
Evan and I waited in the darkness a little time longer, and as the sound of the mob disappeared into the distance we headed to our rooms.
Norma was now lying back on the bed. I climbed in under the mozzie net, but couldn’t settle. I kept thinking about the stories the ambassador’s wife had told us about the coup little more than two years before, and how the riots had gone on for weeks. I was fairly convinced that this was an isolated event, but it was unnerving to say the least, so I found it impossible to sleep.
I don’t know how much time passed while I was just lying in the dark, but suddenly there was a commotion and I heard Mark’s voice. He was shouting frantically for me and Evan. I leaped out of bed and ran down the short hallway as Evan, half asleep, stumbled to the entrance of the hostel, with me close behind.
Mark, looking dishevelled and dirty, rushed to Evan. When I got closer, I could see that Mark’s clothes were soaked in blood.
‘Quick, Evan, Susan. You have to go to the hospital’s emergency ward!’ he cried.
‘What’s happened? Are you all right? You’re covered in blood,’ exclaimed Evan.
‘I’m fine. It’s Jimmy. I’ve just left him at the hospital, he’s in a bad way. Susan, you have to go to him. He’s been stabbed!’
My head spun and I felt weak at the knees. I groped for something to hold on to and Mark supported me as I slumped to the floor. He glanced at Evan.
‘Susan, I’m going to go to help Jimmy, okay?’ Evan said. ‘There’s a short cut through to the back of the hospital. I’ll go ahead and you follow.’
I nodded, dumbly, and then Evan, bare-chested and in cotton shorts, took off around the side of the hostel and into the hospital grounds.
My head was swimming, but I needed to know what was happening.
‘What happened to Jimmy?’ I asked Mark, my voice cracking. ‘Will he be all right?’
Mark took a deep breath, steadied himself, and held my hand tight. ‘It’s pretty bad, Susan.’
I burst into tears. ‘What happened, Mark?’ I sobbed.
He took another breath. ‘You heard the mob, didn’t you? Well, a few rioters came down our street but they didn’t stop. The Tans told us not to put a light on and stay still and quiet. A bit later, there was shouting and banging on the door and threatening voices, shouting that unless the door was opened up, they’d burn down the house.’
He paused and I stared at him in shock. ‘The Tans’ house? Why?’
Ignoring my comment, Mark continued in a voice which suggested that he couldn’t really believe what had happened.
‘Mr Tan opened the door a crack and told them to go away, but they pushed the door open and knocked him down and started kicking him and shouting. I think there were three of them. Jimmy and I rushed forward to try to make them stop.’ Mark was speaking in a rush, the words tumbling over each other. I just listened, tears rolling down my face, but my body was taut with apprehension.
‘They kept saying they wanted the gold they knew he was hiding, but Mr Tan kept insisting that he had none. It was in the bank. They were kicking him in the head, so Jimmy lunged at one of the men and tried to stop him. There was sudden confusion . . .’ Mark squeezed his eyes shut as though to
block out what he had witnessed.
‘Mark . . . what happened?’ I felt cold, my voice choking, and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.
Mark looked at me as if he was in terrible pain. ‘Then one of the men, not much more than a kid, lunged at Jimmy with a knife, yelling wildly. Jimmy fell. It was as though everything froze. Then one of the other men shouted, “Orang kulit putih”, white man. They had attacked a white man, and they knew this would cause big trouble, so they ran.’ He drew breath. ‘Mr Tan quickly found a betjak and we put Jimmy in it and came straight to the hospital. He’ll be all right, Susan. He’ll be all right.’ But the way Mark said this, it seemed it was himself he was trying to convince, not me.
I felt my strength come back to me and Mark helped me to my feet.
‘I have to go to him,’ I said. I got dressed and Mark, Norma and I took the short cut to the hospital.
There we sat and waited. Norma was able to find out that they were operating on Jimmy.
I sat, stony-faced, holding Mark’s hand while Norma brought us some horrible coffee. She fidgeted, occasionally patting my arm and muttering comforting phrases. As I looked around, I realised that the emergency waiting room was full of injured people. The night’s disturbances had left their mark.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall. Pictures of Jimmy ran across my mind like a slide show; Jimmy sitting beside me in a betjak, his warm leg pressed against mine; leaping from bed in Lake Toba to open the shutters, the golden streaks of sunshine striping his lean naked body; laughing as I tried my first frog’s leg; his intense expression as he studied the carvings at Borobudur; looking across the table at me with an amused quizzical smile as I poured out my dreams and silly childhood reminiscences; holding hands as we strolled through the streets of Bogor; comforting me after the incident of the peeping tom and when the mad woman attacked us in the Botanic Gardens. Suddenly I thought, is the crone’s curse coming true? It was all too much. I buried my face in my hands and I cried and cried.
I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and Evan stood before me in a faded hospital gown. My eyes went to the blood stains on it. I lifted my face to his.
His blue eyes were dull, as though the sun had gone behind a cloud. I looked at his lips as he tried to frame words. Then his fingers tightened on my shoulder and he slowly shook his head.
Norma gasped and her hand flew to her mouth as tears flooded her eyes. Mark’s head dropped, and his hands covered his face as he choked.
I simply stared at Evan in disbelief, waiting for him to say, ‘It’s all right. Jimmy is fine.’
But no words came. Then Mark leaped to his feet and slammed his fist into the wall.
‘Bastards!’
I stood up and gripped Evan’s hand. I couldn’t think of a thing to say. This was all happening to someone else, not to me.
‘I’m so sorry. By the time he got to the hospital he had lost so much blood . . . Do you want to see him?’ Evan asked gently. I really didn’t. I wanted to remember handsome smiling Jimmy as I knew him. But then I thought of what a coward I was. I had to tell him goodbye. I nodded.
‘I’ll come with you if you like,’ offered Norma. Mark and Evan asked if they could come as well.
‘Yes. Thanks,’ I muttered.
He was lying under a green cotton sheet. His eyes were closed and his hands were neatly clasped over the top of the sheet. He looked young, innocent and strangely peaceful. I touched his hand. It was smooth and cool.
I had no words to say. Mark put his arm around my shoulders and led me away. When I got back to Norma’s room, I couldn’t stop crying. I simply could not take in the fact that Jimmy, my Jimmy, was dead. It was as though I was in a terrible dream, just waiting for someone to wake me up. But no one did.
*
I was glad I’d had that short time in the hospital saying goodbye to Jimmy. After that, officialdom swung into action and I had no part to play. The American Embassy in Singapore arranged for his body to be taken back to the States, as his family wanted him buried there. The six of us could do little more than light candles in the beautiful old Bogor Cathedral. I wrote a letter to Jimmy’s family, explaining how Jimmy had died and just how special he was to me. His mother wrote back, thanking me for my letter, but after that there was nothing to say.
I spoke to Mr Robinson on a scratchy phone line and he was full of sympathy, asking me what I wanted to do.
I chose to return to my kampong to try and find some solace in the calm routine of a simple life. There I tried to cope with the fact that I’d lost the man I’d secretly allowed myself to think might love me all my life. The villagers gave me the space to be alone and I was grateful for this healing time.
But when a letter arrived from my mother full of trivial, happy news, unaware of what had happened, I suddenly desperately wanted to go home, to my family and the familiar safety of my Australia, where violence didn’t come in the middle of the night.
Mr Robinson was understanding and agreed that I could leave the programme early.
My friends and I had a quiet last dinner together. Evan, David, Mark, Alan and Norma. They all said that they were disturbed by the events, but they all wanted to stay on in Indonesia, even Norma, and they did.
After they finished their term they received individual letters of thanks and glowing references. But although Australians continued to work as volunteers in Indonesia, funding for this particular programme was withdrawn. We were its only participants.
Of course, Sukarno was never released; it had just been another of those rumours that continually swirled around Indonesia. He died three years later, still under house arrest.
Jimmy’s murderers were never caught. Mark told me that he was pretty sure that one of the men involved had also been part of that unpleasant incident in the markets all those weeks before. He said he thought they’d used the riots as a cover to try to extort money from Mr Tan. It seemed to me that Jimmy had paid a very high price for their greed. I still couldn’t believe he was gone.
*
Susan stopped talking and there was silence in the room.
Then Megan asked in a quiet voice, ‘Bunny, do you think that curse, that spell the old woman put on Jimmy, was the reason he died?’
Susan shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. It was just a bizarre coincidence, darling.’
‘What a tragedy, Mum. I had no idea that your time in Indonesia was so sad,’ said Chris.
‘Did Poppy know about Jimmy?’ asked Megan bluntly.
‘Yes, of course I told him all about it. Years later, he offered to take me back to Indonesia. A healing journey, he called it. But I didn’t want to do that. The past is the past and I couldn’t relive my times with Jimmy with anyone else except Jimmy. Not even Poppy.’
‘Maybe you shouldn’t go to the reunion then,’ said Chris quietly. ‘I understand now why you haven’t gone to previous reunions.’
‘Oh, darling, I’ll never forget Jimmy or the violence that caused his death. I put it behind me a long time ago but when I think about it, it still hurts,’ said Susan, drawing a knitted throw around her and folding her hands. There didn’t seem to be anything else to be said, so the three of them sat quietly again for a few moments before the clock on the mantel chimed. It was getting late, so Megan disappeared to bed to read. Chris tidied up the kitchen then, as he went down the hallway to his bedroom, he passed his father’s office and saw that the desk lamp was on.
Peering in, he could see his mother standing and staring at a painting which was almost hidden amongst the many other framed photos and memorabilia that covered the wall. It was the painting of a lake, a large mysterious pool of clear blue, floating between dark green hills in silver moonlight. Chris realised that this must be the painting she’d bought of Lake Toba, almost a lifetime ago.
Slowly Susan turned and gave him a soft smile.
Chris nodded in return and went to his room and lay in the darkness, listening to the gentle sounds of
night in Neverend.
Susan worked her way around the verandah with the watering-can, drenching her hanging baskets. She paused as she spotted Chris in his fluoro safety vest walking slowly towards the house, having finished work for the day. She sighed as she saw his slumped shoulders and downcast eyes. He looked tired and down in the dumps and her heart ached for him.
‘Hi, darling. Can you put the kettle on, please? I’m ready for a cuppa,’ she said as he climbed the steps onto the verandah.
‘I’m ready for a double scotch, I think,’ Chris sighed. ‘That road to the plateau is starting to get to me.’
‘Actually, you might need a stiff drink. Jill rang today. She spoke to Megan and she asked to speak to you as soon as you got back from work. She sounded very cranky.’
Chris groaned. ‘Oh no, what now? Where’s Megan?’
‘In her room. Doing her homework, she says.’
‘Right. I think I’ll get us some tea first.’
A little later, holding a mug of tea, Chris tapped on Megan’s bedroom door and stepped into the room. ‘Hi, sweetheart, I’m home. How was your day?’
‘Horrible.’
‘Why was that? School again?’ Chris perched on the edge of the bed where Megan sat cross-legged in front of her laptop.
‘Not school. It’s Mum. She’s having a rave.’ Megan rolled her eyes.
‘So, are you going to tell me?’
Megan lifted her mobile phone. ‘It’s the bill for this. It’s sort of gone up since I’ve been here, Dad. The account is still in Mum’s name and she says she’s not paying it. She wasn’t very nice about it.’
‘How much is it?’
‘A lot, I guess. More than double what it was last time.’
‘Ouch, that’s bad,’ said Chris, frowning. ‘I had no idea the phone plan was in your mum’s name. We should have reorganised it; I didn’t think. Why has it gone up so much?’
‘I dunno,’ said Megan sulkily. ‘Movies. Apps, I guess.’
‘Can’t you look at that stuff on your laptop?’ Chris stood up and folded his arms. ‘Didn’t you get a message from the phone company to say that you’d exceeded your limit?’