Just Pretend You Know Nothing

Sagara rose slowly from the edge of the bed and walked toward his younger brother.

Niskala was still standing beside the window, his eyes fixed on the darkness outside. There was something in his expression that made Sagara hesitate. His brother did not look frightened in the way someone might react to an ordinary nightmare.

He looked as though he had seen something he could not explain.

Sagara reached the window and carefully pulled the sheer curtain aside.

He looked toward the storage shed.

Nothing.

There was no figure standing in front of it. No movement. No shadow crossing the yard.

Only the old wooden door of the storage shed, firmly closed, and the empty yard swallowed by the darkness of night.

“There’s nothing there, Dek.”

“It’s gone, Bang.”

Niskala did not take his eyes off the window.

“The moment I saw it, it disappeared.”

Sagara looked at him.

“Could you have seen it wrong?”

Niskala finally turned around.

His face was pale.

“I’m sure I didn’t, Bang.”

For a moment, Sagara said nothing.

He knew his brother. Niskala could be easily distracted, especially by the things he read or watched, but he was not someone who would casually invent something like this.

Still, there was nothing outside now.

Sagara sighed.

“All right. Calm down. We should get some rest tonight.”

Niskala nodded reluctantly.

But before he could say anything, a sound came from the other side of the door.

Knock... knock... knock...

Both brothers froze.

“Saga, Kala. Are you asleep?”

Sagara immediately turned toward the door.

That voice.

Nyi Rukmini.

Their grandmother.

Sagara walked over and slowly turned the handle.

The door opened.

Just as he expected, Nyi Rukmini was standing in the doorway.

The old woman looked at both of them.

“You two aren’t asleep yet?”

Sagara shook his head.

“Not yet, Nyi.”

Nyi Rukmini did not respond immediately.

Instead, her eyes moved around the room.

She looked at the bed.

The table.

The walls.

Then the window.

Her gaze stopped there for several seconds.

Sagara noticed it.

So did Niskala.

Something about the way their grandmother looked toward the window made the room suddenly feel colder.

Nyi Rukmini finally turned back to them.

She took a long breath.

“Go to sleep.”

Her voice was quiet, but there was something firm beneath it.

She turned as if she were about to leave.

Then she stopped.

Her eyes shifted toward Niskala.

This time, her gaze was sharp.

“If you hear or see anything tonight...”

She paused.

For a moment, it seemed as though she was choosing her words carefully.

“Just pretend you know nothing.”

Niskala stared at her.

Sagara frowned.

“Nyi, what do you mean—”

Click.

The door closed.

Nyi Rukmini was gone.

There was no explanation.

No further warning.

Just those strange words left hanging in the air.

Sagara and Niskala looked at each other.

Neither of them spoke.

The silence inside the room suddenly felt heavier than before.

The warning had been far too specific to be a coincidence.

Sagara glanced toward the window.

Then toward the closed door.

“Enough,” he finally said.

His voice was deliberately calm.

“Let’s just sleep. Do what Grandma told us.”

Niskala slowly nodded.

They tidied the room and prepared for bed.

But even after the lights were turned off, neither brother could completely relax.

The same sentence kept repeating inside their minds.

If you hear or see anything tonight... just pretend you know nothing.

Why would Nyi Rukmini say something like that?

And why had she looked directly at Niskala when she said it?

Neither of them dared to ask.

—

The next morning, Sagara and Niskala were already dressed and ready to leave.

They planned to go to Pak Kosim’s house first. From there, they intended to ask him to take them to the village head’s house.

They had questions that needed answers.

Too many things had happened since they arrived in the village.

And the longer they stayed, the more they felt that something was being deliberately hidden from them.

As usual, breakfast was already waiting on the dining table.

But there was one strange thing.

Nyi Rukmini was nowhere to be seen.

Sagara glanced toward the kitchen.

Nothing.

There were no footsteps.

No sound of utensils.

No voice.

It was as though their grandmother had simply vanished from the house.

The strange part was that this was not the first time.

Ever since they arrived in the village, Nyi Rukmini’s presence had often felt like a mystery of its own.

Sometimes she appeared without making a sound.

Sometimes she disappeared without anyone noticing.

And sometimes she seemed to know things before anyone had even told her.

At first, Sagara had found it unsettling.

Now, he was beginning to get used to it.

Or perhaps he was simply learning not to question everything.

After finishing breakfast, the two brothers stood near the doorway.

“Nyi, we’re heading out.”

No answer.

Sagara waited.

Niskala waited beside him.

A few seconds passed.

Still nothing.

Finally, Sagara shrugged.

“Let’s go.”

They stepped outside and passed through the gate.

The morning air was cool. A thin mist still lingered between the houses, drifting lazily above the damp ground.

They had only walked a few steps when Niskala suddenly slowed down.

His eyes moved toward a large banyan tree standing in the yard of one of the villagers’ houses.

Someone was leaning against its trunk.

Ujang Belegug.

This time, a cigarette was tucked between his lips.

Smoke slowly escaped from his mouth and nostrils, curling around his face and making his features look even more obscure.

The sight made Niskala smile.

“Hey, young man.”

Ujang Belegug grinned.

“We meet again.”

The greeting no longer sounded strange.

Somehow, it had become familiar.

“Didn’t expect you to have cigarettes, Kang.”

Niskala chuckled softly.

Despite his irritating manner and strange behavior, Niskala had never truly considered Ujang Belegug dangerous.

There was something unusual about the young man.

Every strange thing he said seemed to contain a hidden meaning.

A clue.

A piece of information deliberately left incomplete.

Like fragments of a puzzle scattered across the village.

Niskala simply had not figured out how to put them together.

“Want one?”

Ujang Belegug extended the cigarette pack toward him.

Niskala immediately shook his head and raised one hand politely.

“Thanks. You keep them, Kang Ujang.”

Ujang Belegug was not offended.

Instead, he pushed himself away from the tree and walked toward them.

“Where are you two going?”

His eyes moved from Sagara to Niskala, scanning them from head to toe.

There was something investigative in his stare.

Something that made Sagara wonder whether Ujang already knew where they were going.

Before either brother could answer, Ujang took another cigarette from the pack.

His hand slipped into his trouser pocket.

He searched for his lighter.

Click.

A tiny flame appeared.

He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag.

“We’re going to Pak Kosim’s house,” Sagara said.

Then, almost without thinking, he added,

“Want to come with us, Kang Ujang?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Sagara regretted them.

He had not actually intended to invite him.

But Ujang Belegug immediately smiled.

“Let’s go, then.”

He started walking.

“I’m going there too.”

He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

“I want to ask for some steamed cassava. I’ve been hungry since earlier.”

He walked ahead without waiting for them.

His pace was surprisingly quick.

Almost as though he already knew exactly where he was going.

Sagara looked at Niskala.

Niskala looked back.

Neither brother said anything.

They simply followed.

But both of them were thinking the same thing.

Why was Ujang Belegug always there?

Why did he always appear whenever something strange happened?

And why did he always seem to arrive at exactly the right moment?

Sagara glanced once more at the strange man walking ahead of them, cigarette smoke trailing behind his steps.

For some reason, he felt that the answer to those questions might be far more complicated than they realized.

And somewhere behind them, hidden among the old houses and mist-covered trees, the village remained silent.

As if it, too, knew something they did not.

Something they had been warned not to see.

Or perhaps...

Something they had been warned to pretend they had never seen.