Bebegigs
Chapter 51's

"You're the same Genta?" yasa asked after a moment of silence, he stopped in front of the Mini Market, stayed away from the lights, returned to the dark place near the building wall. His eyes are looking for orange eyes.

"Don't ask ah," grumbled the orange.

"Huh?" Yasa's eyes seemed to be shining.

The orange realized Yasa continued to stare into his eyes while they spoke. Did he never blink? ask the orange in your heart.

Then he thought: His eyes looked very deep. Like tunnel. Like the tunnel that pulls you deeper, deeper.

Dizzy, he reached out to the wall of the building so as not to fall. "No, I'm not the same Genta" said Orange, realizing his anger had not disappeared.

"The mall's market just opened today" Yasa said. "You going there?"

"Yes" said the orange, without thinking. Then he remembered Magenta. And think, Magenta wouldn't like this.

I'm gonna go to the market that night with another guy.

Then he thought: I don't care. He would rather spend his time with Kantata and the guys by watching silly movies.

It's a weekend. I went home for the weekend.

I have a right to have fun too.

Why do I have to wait for him all the time?

Why do I always have to give up?

He doesn't care what I do.

His anger exploded again, then faded as he stared into Yasa's eyes.

The man smiled warmly at her. "Come on!" bring him.

They went for a walk, looked at the rides. Many are still empty, waiting for passengers. The night market had only opened an hour ago, and not many people had arrived yet.

The mountain wind was cool and gentle.

Orange is happy to have decided to go with Yasa. The guy is fun and friendly even though his style is a little old-fashioned.

It was the opposite of Magenta, he thought annoyed.

His anger has gone away, but he wants to know if Magenta would care that Orange left with another guy.

They walked in rows of game stalls. A little boy standing on the table of one of the game stands, would throw into a wall full of balloons. The officer girl behind the desk was dodging, about three meters away.

Two hours later they were out of the field.

The air smells fresh and wet. A wisp of dark thin clouds drifted past the full moon hanging low in the sky, so low that it seemed to float on the shingle roof of the dark barbershop across the street.

Beside him, Magenta's subscription martabak kiosk and his friends, were full of young people. Outside the window there was a queue, people standing in groups, two or four, chatting and laughing while waiting for their order.

"Want to buy something?" Yasa asked as he pointed at the queue.

Orange shakes. "No ah, thank you."

Suddenly Yasa grabbed the orange hand and pulled it.

Orange attracts doubt.

Retracting the girl's arm was strong, and with hesitation Jingga let herself be dragged to the front of the martabak stall and joined in the queue.

"I said no!" The orange stopped stepping.

Yasa did not let go. He kept buying the martabak, then drove the orange home. "I have this for Empu Brajasena" he said.

Directions to his village with directions to the village where Jingga lives opposite from the square. And that's the same as twice back and forth. But Yasa did not mind at all. It is not appropriate to let girls go home alone at night, he thought.

Yasa's way of thinking was clearly the opposite of Magenta who had originally preferred to meet in front of the post office outside the village despite our neighboring houses, thought Orange sour.

A little while later, they had already walked along the sandy path, which meandered from the city across the grassy sand dunes, uphill to the village where Jingga lived.

As he entered the darkness, Yasa caught a glimpse of something in the bushes, something that was no stranger to him since the past two years.

An old lady in white with a caping, bowed in the middle of the bushes and muttered, "Yet it rained ngagebug, komo wanci sambekala! Kade Bebegig's! Bebegig mawa dodoja."

Yasa knew the figure was a manifestation of the appearance of the late Orange grandmother, but because he did not want to make the orange afraid, he did not say anything.

But Orange could sense that the man was trying not to frighten her.

He knew exactly the guy could see something invisible.

Those dark and sharp eyes were extremely intense, extremely hypnotic. The eyes say everything.

The orange looked into the boy's eyes and once again felt like it was bewitched.

The moon, which was originally like a pale white plate, was becoming clearer, starting to glow golden.

Why does it feel like she's the Yasa I met on the same sidewalk two years ago? think Orange.

But of course he knew this man was different from Jurig Bebegig who was at that time.

The moon shone brightly with clouds that loomed as if moving in, leading them.

Yasa looked very handsome in the low-flying moonlight.

This is his real self! Jingga concluded while trying to get rid of the waves of painful memories that still plagued her mind, constantly returning like the tides of the sea.

Yasa was not possessed.

This was his original self that had forged spiritual training. Her polite side is full of self-control.

Is this really my father's work? The orange wondered in his heart. Or is the nature like this already?

He is different from time to time.

When the row of white houses ended and changed with a large grassy field before entering the village, a white wolf jumped out of the bushes and blocked them on the path.

The orange squealed until it staggered in surprise.

Yasa grabbed the girl's shoulder and held her body so as not to fall.

The man's warm breath tickled at the orange's neck, giving him goosebumps. Reminding Orange of their closeness two years ago, reminding the girl of the kisses, and unknowingly craving for it again, her entire feminine instinct rippled while the guy still held her body, so close behind him, and his passionate stir appeared again.

But Yasa's voice then jerked the Orange from the daydream. "He thought he had the way" he joked.

The orange gulped and suddenly misbehaved aware of his wildly inappropriate imagination. He stuttered for a moment before finally realizing, "Gardapati!"

Yasa lowered his hands from both of Orange's shoulders after the girl straightened back her body.

He rubbed his long hair over his shoulders, letting the gentle breeze blowing from the mountain ruffle him, imagining Yasa brushing his hair like when they were in a waterfall.

So soft.

The white wolf brandished its tail and moved it as if hinting to follow it.

Orange and Yasa chuckled while following the wolf.

They walked again in silence to the yard of the house of Orange.

After making sure the girl entered the house safely, Yasa turned around and rushed home, back down the sandy path towards the square.

Gardapati.

As Yasa returned past the grassy sand dunes, he glanced over the bushes of the place where he saw the apparition of his late Orange grandmother.

The old woman was no longer there.

Instead, he saw a dark-robed scarecrow with a headscarf tilted and frenzied in the wind.