The Traces of Destiny
New Wishes and Old Memories

"Look, I know there's a million other things you want to do, but for now you're going to do what you set up for a while. You don't have a choice, and just think about it, it might get worse."

"What's bad?" his question, like singing the last syllable, was like what he always did when he didn't want to believe what Garin said to him.

"Well, Ms. Saras could also want to accompany you to study at the weekend. If that happens, you won't be able to play football."

Raka leaned forward, resting her chin in hand. "Hmm okay," he finally said with a sigh, looking moody. "I'll do it."

Garin smiled, "I appreciate that, champ."

Later that night, Garin leans on Raka's bed, pulling the blanket. Raka's eyes looked heavy, Garin rubbed his son's hair before kissing his cheek.

"It's night. Sleep on."

He looked so small on his bed.

Garin made sure Raka's night light was on, then grabbed the bedside lamp. Raka still forced her eyes open, although her gaze said those eyes would not last long.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for not being so angry with me today."

Garin smiles. "Thank you back."

"... Daddy?"

"Yes?"

Raka reached out to wipe her nose. Next to his pillow is a teddy bear Maudy gave him when he was three years old. She still sleeps with the doll every night.

"I'm glad Ms. Saras would help me."

"Yes?" he asked, surprised.

"He's good."

Garin turned off the lights. "I think so too. Now go to sleep, okay?"

"OKAY. Umm, Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Garin felt a tightness in his throat.

"I love you too, champ."

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A few hours later, just before four in the morning, Raka's nightmare returns.

Like the wailing of people who jumped from the cliff, Raka's shout immediately made Garin jerk up. He staggered half blindly from his bedroom, nearly tripping over a toy on his way, and still trying to focus as he scooped the still-sleeping boy into his arms.

Garin started whispering to his son as he led him to the back porch. The thing he had learned, the only thing that could calm Raka down.

In a few moments his sobs turned to whimper, and Garin was grateful not only for his house on an acre of land, but also his nearest neighbor, Mbok Win, suffered from hearing loss.

In the dim air that blurred, Garin shook Raka, continuing to whisper in her son's ear.

The moon emits its light over slow moving water like a path of reflected light. With mango trees draped low and the stems of the rainbow-painted Eucalyptus deglupta trees lining the edges, the scenery is soothing, the beauty is youthful.

The veil of Spanish moss covering only adds to the feeling that this part of the world has not changed in the last thousand years.

As Raka's breathing began to settle down, it was almost five in the morning and Garin knew she would never be able to sleep again. After returning Raka to bed, she went to the kitchen and started making a pot of coffee. Sitting at the table, he rubbed his eyes and face, made the blood flow again, then looked up.

Garin found herself thinking about Saraswati once again.

He's interested in her, that's for sure. He did not react that strongly to a woman in a time that felt like forever. He was interested in Maudy, of course, but that was fifteen years ago.

A lifetime ago.

And it's not that he wasn't interested in Maudy for the last few years of their marriage that he loved his wife so much.

It's just that the appeal feels different. The initial insanity he felt when he met Maudy for the first time, the teen's desperate desire to learn all he can about her has been replaced with something deeper and more mature over the years.

With Maudy, no more surprises. She knew how she looked after getting out of bed in the morning, she had seen fatigue etched into every feature after giving birth to Raka. He knows her - her feelings, her fears, the things she likes and dislikes.

But this attraction to Saras felt new, and it made him feel new too, as if anything was possible. He didn't realize how much he missed that feeling.

But where did it go from here?

That was the part he was still unsure of. He cannot predict what, if anything, will happen with Saras. He doesn't know anything about her. In the end, they may not be compatible at all.

There are thousands of things that can destroy a relationship, and Garin is not blind to that possibility.

Still, he was interested in her ....

Garin shook his head, expelling those thoughts.

There was no reason to think about it, unless the reason for the attraction once again reminded him that he wanted to start over. He wanted to find someone again, he didn't want to live the rest of his life alone.

Some people can live without a partner, he also knows that. There are people in this city who lost their partner and never remarried.

Garin never felt as if she was missing something when she got married. She doesn't look at her single friends and hopes she can live their lives, date, play on the field, fall in love at parties. That's not him.

He loves being a husband, he loves being a father, he loves the stability that comes with it all.

Garin sighed and looked out the window again. More light in the sky below, still black above. She got up from the table, went into the hallway of the room to peek at Raka, still asleep, then pushed open her own bedroom door.

In the dim, she could see the photos she framed, displayed on top of the drawers and on top of the bed. Although she could not see her features, she did not need to see them clearly to know what was on display: Maudy sat on the back porch, holding a bouquet of wildflowers, and she was not able to see them, then there is a photo of Maudy and Raka, their faces close to the lens ...

Garin came in and sat on the bed. Next to the photo was a manila file containing information that he compiled himself.

Since a camat has no jurisdiction over accident or criminal cases, he will also not be allowed to investigate directly, but he will by his means follow in the footsteps of highway patrols, interviewing the same people, and so on, ask the same questions, and sift through the same information.

Knowing what he had been through, no one refused to cooperate, but in the end he did not know more than the official investigators.

The file lies on the bed table, as if challenging Garin to find out who caused the accident that night.

But it seems unlikely, no longer, no matter how much Garin wishes to punish the man who has ruined his life.

That's what he wants to do. He wanted to make that person pay dearly for what he had done, it was his duty both as a husband and as someone who swore to uphold the law in society.

An eye for an eye - isn't that what the scriptures say?

Now, like most mornings, Garin stares at the file without bothering to open it and he can imagine the person who has done it, running the same scenario as he does at all times, and it always starts with the same question.

If it was an accident, why run?

Some of the reasons he could think of were because that person was drunk or a hater, someone who disliked Maudy or herself.

A man, perhaps, is in his thirties or forties. Although there was no evidence to support that, that was what he had always imagined.

In his inner eyes, Garin could see him driving on the shoulder of the road, cycling fast, his mind processing everything in slow motion. Maybe he was grabbing something with one hand, just as he caught a glimpse of Maudy at the last second. Or maybe he had seen it from afar and planned the incident.

There were no slippage marks on the road's shoulder, though the driver had stopped his bike to see what he had done. Evidence, information that never appears in any article.

No one else saw the incident. There were no other riders on the road, no lights on, no one outside walking the dog or turning off the sprinklers.

In that situation, the bike driver knew that Maudy had died and that he would face murder charges at least. Criminal prosecution. Prison time. Life behind bars.

These and even more terrifying thoughts must have flashed through his head, urging him to get out of there before anyone saw him. And he did so, without bothering to consider the grief he had left behind afterwards.