Rencong<\/p>\n
Maria Magdalena Bhoernomo<\/p>\n
My husband came back from the office, carrying a rusted old
\nrencong about half a meter long.<\/p>\n
An avid collector, he would place it next to the many krises
\nand spears of various shapes and sizes in our home.<\/p>\n
\"There's no harm in collecting antiques. It's profitable
\nbecause their value soars with each passing year,\" he would argue
\nwhen I asked him about the expense of spending most of his salary
\non the purchases.<\/p>\n
\"This rencong is very expensive,\" he said, gently rubbing the
\nblade with a cloth dipped in alcohol, part of his Sunday and
\nholiday routine.<\/p>\n
After our breakfast, my husband would get to work cleaning the
\nweapons. When the job was done, he would take pride in placing it
\nin the cabinet with all the rest.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
My husband always bought new weapons right after payday. But
\nit was not the case after he brought home the Acehnese dagger.
\nInstead, he would take it out, caressing it and even kissing it
\nlightly, seemingly in love with this old piece of metal.<\/p>\n
At first, I was amused by his love for it, but gradually I
\nbecame irritated.<\/p>\n
\"Has it driven him nuts?\" I muttered with anxiety. I had no
\nidea where he had got the rencong from. Could it have been given
\nby a pretty woman as a remembrance or a bond of love?<\/p>\n
Worry and jealousy made me increasingly distressed and I could
\nno longer sleep at night. On Sunday morning, as he was absorbed
\nin cleaning the dagger in the living room, embracing and kissing
\nit now and again, I confronted him.<\/p>\n
\"Where did you get it from, mas?\" I asked, sitting beside him.<\/p>\n
\"It's a secret,\" he answered smilingly.<\/p>\n
\"Nobody must know where it came from, except me!\" he said, his
\ntone suddenly firm.<\/p>\n
My anxiety grew.<\/p>\n
He glanced at me stealthily. \"Even though you're my wife, you
\ncan't know where it came from,\" he said.<\/p>\n
\"Ugh, there's no point in making such an ugly rencong such a
\nmystery,\" he said.<\/p>\n
\"Don't you scorn the dagger, eh! You'll get cursed!\"<\/p>\n
\"It didn't came from a saint, did it? And don't believe in
\nblack magic, mas, you'll go insane.\"<\/p>\n
He smiled after staring at me for a long time.<\/p>\n
\"You're smart enough. You want to know everything about it by
\ntrying to regard it with contempt. It's just not to be shared
\nwith anybody!\"<\/p>\n
I grabbed his arm. \"If you refuse to tell me, I won't sleep
\nwith you again!\" I blurted out, more a bluff than an actual
\nthreat.<\/p>\n
He laughed heartily.<\/p>\n
\"Do you ever dare to sleep alone?\" he remarked.<\/p>\n
I was bothered even more because it was true: I had never gone
\nto bed alone since the first night of my marriage. Perhaps I had
\nbecome too romantic? Didn't I have the guts to be alone in bed, I
\nnever allowed him to take out of town jobs or work overtime till
\ndawn. Yes, I had never slept alone since the first night.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
That night, I awoke suddenly. To my surprise, my husband was
\nnot beside me.<\/p>\n
\"Mas!\" I screamed in fear. Then I searched the next room to
\nfind him. He turned out to be sleeping there, clasping the
\nrencong tightly.<\/p>\n
\"Mas!\" I shouted again.<\/p>\n
He was startled and woke up, looking at me with amusement.<\/p>\n
\"So you don't dare sleep without me?\" he teased.<\/p>\n
\"You're getting weird, mas, sleeping like that cuddling that
\nhideous weapon!\" I protested. Then I hurried to the bathroom.<\/p>\n
When I looked for him again, he was in the living room with
\nthe dagger in his lap.<\/p>\n
\"Sit down here,\" he said seriously.<\/p>\n
I followed his orders.<\/p>\n
\"I slept with this rencong in my embrace because of a special
\npurpose. I wished to get a message from it,\" he said earnestly.<\/p>\n
\"What message?\" I asked dejectedly. \"Don't invent an excuse.
\nJust admit that you got it from a girlfriend. Right?\" I could
\nhide my jealousy no more.<\/p>\n
\"Are you suspicious about me? Don't you believe I'm faithful
\nto you?\"<\/p>\n
\"But you are acting so strange, mas,\" I growled.<\/p>\n
\"What do you mean?\"<\/p>\n
\"Hugging the rencong in bed, don't you think it's odd?!\"<\/p>\n
\"No, not to me. I've got to clasp it while asleep in order to
\ncommunicate with it.\"<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
\"Who said so, mas? Just be honest with me, you must be longing
\nfor the woman who gave you the weapon and that's why you are
\nsleeping with it!\"<\/p>\n
His face clouded over. \"Don't pick a fight! I don't like all
\nyour accusations!\"<\/p>\n
I stopped talking. It was not a good idea to get him angry,
\nespecially late at night. I rose and left for the bedroom.<\/p>\n
He followed promptly, lying down beside me, still holding his
\nrencong tightly.<\/p>\n
\"I hate seeing you with your arms around it, mas!\"<\/p>\n
\"All right, don't talk too much. It's very late already. This
\nbed won't break in two just because I'm cuddling the dagger.\"<\/p>\n
I tried to close my eyes and go back to sleep but I could not.
\nI was worried by many things, including that he might abruptly
\nstab me with the dagger while I dozed off.<\/p>\n
I repeatedly stole glances at him, but he seemed fast asleep
\nwith the weapon next to him.<\/p>\n
He smiled at me when he awoke.<\/p>\n
\"You must have had trouble sleeping, I can tell from your red
\neyes,\" he said, rising from the bed. Then he kissed the antique
\ndearly before placing it in the cabinet.<\/p>\n
\"I couldn't sleep because of the damned dagger!\" I cried out,
\ngetting up.<\/p>\n
\"Eh, don't hate it!\" my husband said as he went in to the
\nbathroom.<\/p>\n
I suddenly looked at his underpants tossed into the laundry
\nbasket. There were traces of fluid on them and a distinctive
\nsickly-sweet smell.<\/p>\n
\"What I believed has proved right,\" I declared bitterly as he
\ncame out of the bathroom. \"You sleep with the rencong because it
\nreminds you of that woman.\"<\/p>\n
\"Don't be ridiculous.\"<\/p>\n
\"No, I'm not. I saw the semen on your underpants!\"<\/p>\n
\"I swear, I've never masturbated.\"<\/p>\n
\"Whose sperm is it, then, mas? Could it have come from your
\ndagger, perhaps?\"<\/p>\n
\"Calm down. Our neighbors may overhear us,\" he nervously
\nremarked.<\/p>\n
My eyes were full of tears.<\/p>\n
\"Come on, let's talk in the living room,\" he led me by the arm
\nand I followed him.<\/p>\n
\"Last night I was making love to you in my dream,\" he said as
\nwe sat on the sofa.<\/p>\n
\"It was a very beautiful dream. You appeared like a graceful
\nbride. I looked like a bridegroom clad in Javanese traditional
\nattire, but the kris that should have been on my back was a
\nrencong. It's the one I cuddled.\"<\/p>\n
I sneered in disbelief.<\/p>\n
\"To be honest, I love collecting antiques, including the
\nrencong because I want to be a faithful husband, even though our
\nmarriage has been childless,\" he said.<\/p>\n
I began to sob. Something had been lost from our life after we
\nwere declared infertile.<\/p>\n
My husband kissed my cheek tenderly.<\/p>\n
\"I think it's more sensible to collect ancient objects than to
\nraise roosters, dogs, cats or snakes, don't you?\" he said
\nquietly.<\/p>\n
I put my head in my hands and sobbed with shame at my mistake.<\/p>\n
Translated by Aris Prawira<\/p>\n
Note:<\/p>\n
Rencong - traditional dagger from Aceh with a curved handle.
\nMas - Javanese term of address for a man, often used by women for
\ntheir husbands.<\/p>",
"url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/rencong-1447899208",
"image": ""
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