Bebegigs
Chapter 44's
Like most shops in their small town, the martabak kiosk was about to close at ten.
Magenta hurried to leave the nearly silent courtyard of the stall, his hands still clasping the vinegar bottle on his back.
He did not stop to see which way Yasa was carrying the orange. He kept walking along the path that led to the waterfall impatiently, checking his watch every few seconds.
Since it was only half ten, Magenta felt confident that Jingga and Yasa were going to the waterfall.
As he walked along the path, he worried that Yasa might suddenly appear, corner him into the bushes, and snatch the vinegar bottle from him to get rid of the evidence.
But, of course, that's impossible. Yasa would never show up when he was with the orange.
His eyes were fixed on the waterfall that began to be plastered not far in front of him.
The mist descended lower and lower, forming a thick gray cloud that hovered over the surface of the river, so that the waterfall pool looked dark and no one dared to approach.
Nor is the orange there.
Most visitors began to leave the waterfall because of the fog that is getting thicker.
It was then that Magenta realized that Orange and Yasa were not there.
he looked for the girl along the river shore, looked at the faces of the people who were huddling near the campfire, then crossed the rock hills. Orange is also not at the top of the cliff where the girl had freefall.
he walked to the end of the coast to the foot of the cliff, crossed over, and rushed along the riverbank on the other side, peering into dark places, his eyes scrutinizing every couple, every person, and every other person, every group of people passing by.
Where is he?
he searched the waterfall tourist area for almost an hour without success.
He checked his watch. It's almost 22:30. But he has not found the orange.
While rushing down the stone hills, he suddenly recalled the mysterious old woman he had met in the middle of the rice field.
"Sik Cukcruk kaad kidul!"
Then Magenta decides he will try to search south-to Yasa's residence.
"Cuckruk for a kidul!" he muttered over and over again the mysterious old woman's message.
He should have known the road behind the martabak kiosk was forked. The only one to the waterfall tour. The other one to the village south of the mountain.
Yasa took the girl to his house.
By midnight?
Is that natural?
No, Magenta thought he was beginning to worry.
A man taking his girlfriend to his own home is natural, but bringing a girl sneaking into his house late at night is completely unnatural.
While running around along the riverbank, a wet wind blew into his face, he could feel his muscles tensing up even more, feeling the horror twisting around his stomach. Cold sweat sprung up and flowed down his cheeks. His feet weighed five hundred quintals.
The river water seemed to glitter a silvery blue in the dimness that was getting darker. The ripples of the current reached the rocks at the end of the moonlight, visible gray lines on the surface of the waterfall pool that is dark green and rolled.
The road to the village was crowded with people walking home from the night market.
he saw the orange twice.
The girls have long and thin hair and have a style like an orange.
But they're not Orangish.
They turned to look at him, shocked to see the intensity of his gaze, his desperate gaze, his breathless breath while he continued his search in panic.
As Magenta stepped across the gentle hills leading to the Yasa family rice field area, suddenly the air became colder, the sky darkened as if someone was putting out a lamp.
At the end of the rice field is Yasa's house. To reach the rice field area he had to pass a path on the edge of the cliff, where only a few people there.
He knew he had better turn back. He was panting, thinking hard, his sneakers grinding down the gravelly dirt road.
And before he knew it, his foot slipped to the side of the cliff, and he lost his balance. Arms flailing. Looking for something, anything to keep it from falling. But all he could hold was empty air, and at once his body was thrown into the valley, hurtling rapidly in the darkness, and crashing into the fields of thatch at the foot of the cliff.
The air rippled sharply on his face. His stomach was as if it were thrown down his throat. His lungs felt empty. His heart was racing in the chest.
A sense of heat crept up on his back. His dazzling glare dazzled him. He heard a loud ringing sound in his ear drum.
He patted the place around him. His hand touched the weeds.
Oh, naw! erang Magenta was frustrated. Please don't farm anymore.
Ever since he got caught in the strange fog that made him just go round and round in the same place, he hated the thatch fields at the foot of the cliff, especially at night.
Waves of nausea enveloped him. Cold sweat rolled down his forehead.
He slowly rolled over, then pulled up his body and bent down, resting both hands on his knees, struggling to recover his breath, then heard the voice…
CRUTCH!
CRUTCH!
CRUTCH!
Like the tip of a shovel piercing the ground.
Magenta straightened his body and looked around.
An old lady in white, wearing a caping was bowing not far from her place.
The feathers of Magenta simultaneously bristles.
The old woman again! thought.
Suddenly the woman raised her face.
His gaze collided with Magenta's.
His gaze was like pulling Magenta closer, sighing Magenta to him.
The mysterious old woman was getting closer.
His gaze remained fixed on Magenta's eyes, making him fixated as if bewitched, holding him back as he drew closer.
Magenta straightened up, his breathing still puffing. And then he saw something go over the woman's shoulder.
His eyes were free from the magic and he saw someone.
Someone by the river at the end of the field. Someone who was climbing a rock.
Someone was helping someone climb up to a steep rock hill above the ripples of the rolling river water currents.
The orange!
Yasa was helping Orange up the narrow slope.
Nah!
Magenta gasped and stumbled over something. He fell down with both knees landing first.
He pulled up his body and found a book that looked old and had been torn apart.
Ambu Book!
He remembered that night the mysterious old woman read it in the middle of the rice field.
He picked up the book and looked back.
The mysterious old woman had already disappeared.
Once again the hair bristles back.
At the same time, Orange and Yasa also disappear into the darkness, heading to the mysterious little island across the river.
The orange! Magenta.
Orange and Yasa.
Go across.
Go across for good.