It had been almost a month since Rumiyati had officially become a beautiful widow. Every day, people talked about her nonstop. All the villagers were dying to know which man the beautiful woman would choose as her second husband. Dozens of pairs of eyes were always watching Rumiyati's every move.
I'm getting sick of going outside during the day, Rumiyati complained inwardly. She was deeply uncomfortable being turned into an overnight celebrity in her own village. The curvy woman decided to spend more time indoors unless something urgent required her to go out.
At night, once she was sure the villagers were fast asleep beneath their blankets, Rumiyati would sometimes take a walk around the house to breathe in the fresh air. Her home was still surrounded by rice paddies. Only the front of the house opened onto a wide yard, which connected to the village road, still nothing more than packed dirt.
Rumiyati sat on the front porch with a cup of coffee and a plate of fried bananas beside her. Wearing black lingerie, the kind of nightclothes city women wore, she looked sexy. She wrapped herself in a thick blanket to fight the fierce cold biting into her body.
That outfit had been Subandi's favorite. While he was alive, her husband had asked Rumiyati to wear lingerie whenever they were in the bedroom. It looks alluring, he used to say. That was why Rumiyati had collected several sets in her wardrobe, even though in reality they usually slept without clothes. All they needed was a single blanket ... and each other's arms.
It's cold. I miss you more and more. Mas Bandi ...
It was already midnight, but her eyes still refused to close. The image of her beloved husband haunted her every time she entered the bedroom. The memory of their last intimate encounter had become a trauma all its own for Rumiyati.
Was I really the one who caused Mas Bandi's death?
Clear tears began streaming down her cheeks again when a voice startled her.
“Evening, Rum. Why aren't you asleep yet?” A lanky young man had come over to greet her.
Rumiyati flinched. She quickly wiped her wet cheeks and turned toward the voice.
“Oh, Bandot. I just can't sleep, Ndot.” Rumiyati tried to smile.
The young man's real name was Bondan, and he was two years younger than Rumiyati. He looked older, perhaps because he let his mustache and sideburns grow thick, though not long. On top of that, his job as a village security officer required him to stay up all night. People said that not getting enough rest at night made a person's face age faster.
“Thank God.”
“Huh? Why ‘thank God,’ Ndot?” Rumiyati stared at him in confusion.
“Yeah, thank God I can't sleep instead of not being able to wake up.” Bandot chuckled.
Rumiyati laughed along at his joke.
“What is it, Rum? Still sad?” the young man asked.
“It's not just sadness, Ndot. I'm uncomfortable too, listening to all kinds of things from the villagers. I've heard everything.” Rumiyati gestured for Bandot, who was wearing his village-watchman uniform, to sit across from her.
Bandot shuffled closer and snatched a fried banana without waiting to be offered one. Rumiyati smiled. The two of them were fairly close, so they didn't need much small talk.
“Don't think about it too much, Rum. That's just how villagers are. You'll drive yourself crazy if you keep listening to them,” the man said between bites of his snack.
Rumiyati then poured out all her complaints and pent-up feelings. It was nice to have a loyal listener for once. Bandot listened patiently.
When else would he get to stare at a beautiful woman while snacking for free? Too bad there's no coffee ... Rum sure is clueless. She could at least offer me some, he grumbled inwardly, still busy chewing his second fried banana.
“Give me the coffee, Rum. I'm sleepy,” Bandot said boldly, reaching for the glass in front of Rumiyati. He immediately downed the black liquid.
“Oh, Ndot. You should've said you wanted coffee. I'll make you some.” Rumiyati chuckled at Bandot's reckless behavior. But inwardly, she admired this man. As far as she was concerned, the young man was laid-back and unaffected by rumors, gossip, or the villagers' opinions. He always stayed neutral, refusing to get too involved with either side.
The people of Telomoyo Village tended to form groups, both men and women. Each person had a circle and tended to stand firmly by their group's decisions. They also weren't shy about getting into heated arguments with other groups to defend their assumptions and opinions.
“I kept waiting, but you never offered. Don't bother, Rum. This is enough. If you want, I can take you to Mbah Siman. Go talk to him first. Who knows? Maybe he'll have a solution so you can find a new match soon.”
Bandot told her about Mbah Siman, who lived in the neighboring village. He was famous for his supernatural abilities and for solving all kinds of problems his patients faced. He didn't just treat illnesses and curses or help people improve their fortunes—he could also help them find a spouse.
With great enthusiasm, Bandot described Mbah Siman's success in handling other people's problems. He added plenty of embellishments to make Rumiyati even more interested.
Rumiyati was intrigued. She wanted to ask about Subandi's death and put her doubts to rest. If her husband had not died because of her, she would feel relieved. But if she was somehow connected to it, at least she could find a way forward. Of course, Rumiyati still wanted to get married again.
“What time can you take me tomorrow, Ndot?”
“Eight tomorrow night, Rum. I'll bring my motorcycle. We'll cut through the rice paddies so the villagers won't know.”
“All right, it's a deal! I'll wait for you tomorrow. Thanks, Ndot.”
Bandot said goodbye and went back to patrolling the village, carrying out his duties as a village security officer. Rumiyati stopped him and asked him to wait a moment. She hurried inside the house. A short while later, the woman returned with a hundred-thousand-rupiah bill and a black plastic bag filled with sugar and coffee.
“Use it to buy cigarettes. Thanks so much, Ndot.” Rumiyati held them out to Bandot, who accepted them gladly.
Rumiyati felt a little relieved. There was a glimmer of hope that she could repair her life and the married life that had vanished. She quickly returned to her bedroom.
Bandot watched from behind, his eyes fixed on Rumiyati's smooth calf peeking out from beneath the edge of her blanket.
Not bad. I got money, sugar, coffee, and fried bananas. Hanging around a beautiful rich woman definitely pays off.
Bandot continued his patrol with a light heart. In truth, he hadn't been able to stay near Rumiyati for much longer either. A quiet night, the cold air, and a beautiful woman. Weren't those three things incredibly tempting when brought together? A perfect combination created by the universe.
Bandot had imagined being close to Rumiyati for a long time. Ah, perhaps most of the men in Telomoyo Village felt the same way. That was why so many girls and married women disliked Rumiyati. They were jealous. Behind her back, they laughed at the tragic fate that had befallen Subandi.
Cruel, certainly. A blessing was often followed by threats, envy, and obstacles. The blessing of beauty or handsomeness brought not only praise and admiration, but also a barrage of insults and curses. There would always be two opposing sides.
Bandot held back his desire, refusing to rush into pursuing Rumiyati. He believed he had an opportunity. He would take advantage of the difficult situation facing the beautiful widow, turning on his charm to make her feel comfortable and nurture love in her heart.
Age was no obstacle. Besides, he looked older than Rumiyati. If he succeeded in marrying her, Bandot's life would change dramatically. A village watchman suddenly becoming a tycoon, getting rich overnight, and landing a beautiful wife on top of it all. Perfect!
Bandot was already one step closer. He laughed joyfully throughout the night.