At The Window

“What's wrong, Dek?”

Niskala's strange behavior piqued Sagara's curiosity. Several times, his younger brother looked as though he were about to throw up whenever he tried to put on his mask.

Niskala pointed at the mask still clutched in his hand.

“This mask, Bang. Why does it smell so bad? It smells like a corpse.”

*What now? The mystery of the bruise on my brother's neck hasn't been solved, and now he's smelling a corpse on his mask.*

Sagara fell silent for a moment, trying to find a reasonable explanation.

“Maybe there's a dead animal somewhere around here.”

Niskala sniffed the air around him.

Nothing.

At least, he couldn't smell anything remotely resembling a corpse.

He brought the mask to his nose again. After only a few seconds of inhaling its scent, his expression changed. The nausea came rushing back.

“Ugh!”

Niskala quickly pulled the mask away from his face and threw it onto the floor.

Curious, Sagara immediately picked it up. He turned it over in his hands, then brought it to his nose.

Nothing.

His nose detected no strange odor whatsoever. Just the familiar smell of an ordinary mask.

Sagara frowned and looked at his brother.

The fact that Sagara seemed completely unaffected, as though nothing unusual had happened, only made Niskala more confused.

“Bang, you really can't smell it?”

“No. It smells normal.”

“Seriously?”

Niskala continued staring suspiciously at the mask.

“Seriously. Maybe there's something wrong with your sense of smell.”

Sagara handed the mask back to Niskala.

“As far as I know, when your body is dealing with a health problem, your sense of smell can sometimes change. You might smell something fishy, rancid, or something else that isn't actually there.”

“Really, Bang?”

Niskala was still doubtful. He was certain of what he had smelled. It wasn't merely a fishy or rancid odor.

It was unmistakably the smell of a corpse.

“Enough. Let's finish cleaning this storage room first.”

Sagara gently patted his brother's shoulder.

“After that, clean yourself up and get ready to have your health checked at the puskesmas. We still have time.”

Sagara then glanced at the wall clock hanging on one side of the room.

But it wasn't the hands of the clock that caught his attention.

It was the object hanging directly beside it.

Sagara's brow furrowed.

Something about the object stirred his curiosity.

He was about to step closer, but stopped himself when he remembered that it was almost noon.

—

They went to the puskesmas and returned in an andong that Nyi Rukmini had specifically hired for them.

When they reached the house gate, where two magnificent banyan trees stood firmly on either side, the andong came to a stop.

Nyi Rukmini paid the driver. Once he had received his fare, the driver urged the horse forward and soon disappeared from the yard.

The three of them then walked into the grounds.

But after only a few steps, Nyi Rukmini suddenly stopped.

Her gaze settled on one of the banyan trees, beneath which the sesajen still lay.

The old woman stared at it for a moment.

Then a faint smile curved her lips.

Sagara and Niskala noticed their grandmother had stopped and exchanged a glance.

Sagara then pointed toward Nyi Rukmini with his chin, as if asking, *What is Grandma doing?*

Niskala merely shrugged.

A moment later, Nyi Rukmini continued walking.

But as soon as she reached the doorway, she stopped again.

She turned slightly toward her two grandchildren.

“You'd better sleep soundly tonight. And don't do anything foolish.”

After saying that, Nyi Rukmini did not wait for a response. She simply continued into the house.

*Oh, God. Why is Grandma so mysterious? Even the way she looks at us gives me the creeps.*

Niskala looked uneasy.

Standing just behind and to the right of Nyi Rukmini, he had a clear view when the old woman turned slightly and shot them a sharp glance from the corner of her eye.

There was something in that look that made the hairs on the back of Niskala's neck stand on end.

Nyi Rukmini then went into her own room.

Niskala quickly placed the pain medication on the bedside table beside the bed, positioned between the bed and the window. The two-tiered nightstand, with its two drawers, was the only thing separating the side of the bed from the window.

Meanwhile, Sagara pulled the curtains wide open. He then drew back the sheer curtain and unlatched the window.

As soon as the window opened, a cool breeze rushed inside.

Sagara took a deep breath.

The air in the dusun really was much fresher. The trees were still lush, and there was barely any of the pollution they were accustomed to in the city.

But Niskala sensed something different.

The atmosphere outside the window seemed to change.

From the corner of his eye, he glanced outside.

Faintly, he saw the figure of a woman standing in front of the storage building.

She wore a red blazer and a short red skirt. Her head was covered by a hood shaped like a hat, complete with a veil of netting hanging down along the sides of her face—reminiscent of the hats worn by European women in the past.

The figure stood perfectly still.

As though she were watching the house.

Or... watching them.

Niskala quickly turned around.

His sudden movement made Sagara look over.

“What is it, Dek?”

Niskala tried to steady himself.

“There was a woman standing in front of the storage building, Bang.”

Sagara immediately turned toward the window.

The storage building looked deserted.

There was no one there.

“There's nobody there, Dek.”

Niskala grew even more curious.

He turned back to make sure.

But the woman was already gone.

“Ciluk... baaa!”

“ASTAGHFIRULLAH!”

Both Niskala and Sagara jumped.

From outside the window, Ujang Belegug suddenly popped his face into view.

Apparently, the young man had been standing beside the storage building, which was not far from their bedroom window.

Who knew how long he had been there?

“What are you doing there, Kang Ujang?” Sagara demanded. His heart nearly leaped out of his chest.

Ujang chuckled.

“Hello, Pemuda!”

*That name again.*

Sagara thought bitterly.

Ujang shifted closer to the open window and gripped the frame.

“What did I tell you? See? I was right, wasn't I?”

He looked from one brother to the other.

“Come on. Don't pretend. I know what you're hiding.”

*What the hell is this guy talking about?*

Niskala was beginning to lose patience with the eccentric young man's strange behavior.

Ujang folded his arms and leaned against the wall beside the window. His legs were crossed casually, as though he had been standing there for quite some time.

“Where's my cigarette? Cigarette?”

He held out a hand toward them.

“Kang, we don't smoke.”

Ujang briefly glanced into the room.

“Nyi Rukmini must have some.”

His wild gaze swept across every corner of the room they were staying in.

Sagara and Niskala exchanged a look. Neither of them had any idea what the man was getting at.

“Fine, then. Go ask Nyi Rukmini if you're brave enough,” Niskala said curtly.

Ujang only grinned.

He pointed at the two brothers as he slowly backed away from the window.

“Pemuda... pemuda...”

Without saying another word, he turned around and disappeared behind the side of the storage building.

Sagara and Niskala could only stare at the place where Ujang had vanished.

“Huh... strange. Really strange.” Sagara ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Is he crazy?”

“How did he even get here?”

Niskala's remark made them fall silent.

Only then did they realize it.

They hadn't seen Ujang enter the yard at all.

The gate to Nyi Rukmini's house was still closed.

Even the fence surrounding the property looked exactly as it had before.

“How did he get in?” Sagara murmured.

Niskala looked at the concrete fence surrounding the house, roughly one and a half meters high.

Then he turned to his brother.

Sagara did the same.

They fell silent for a moment.

“Jum

ped over the fence?” they said almost simultaneously.

They stared at each other.

It was certainly possible.

And yet, after everything strange they had experienced since arriving in Dusun Getihan, such a simple explanation somehow felt far too easy.

—