A young woman named Tanglier

By Sori Siregar

Dangin cleared his throat to distract Tanglier's attention from a calculator. The young woman turned her head.

"Can I move to the first or second floor?" he asked.

"Your room?"

"Eight-one-eight."

"Aren't you comfortable on the eighth floor? You should be enjoying beautiful views from your room."

"I know. But I prefer the first or second floor."

"Would you mind telling me the reason? Isn't the room spacious enough? Or is there something unsatisfactory?"

"Oh, no. Nothing specific. I want the first or second floor to expedite my arrival to this lobby."

"OK, let's see."

Tanglier, the beautiful young woman from Cuba, tapped her fingers on the keyboards of the computer.

"You are lucky, there is a vacant room on the second floor. Number 209. King Leisure, not a standard room as yours is now. The rate is five dollars higher."

"OK, I'll move there."

"Don't you want to have a look first?"

"No, I am sure the room on the second floor is better."

"OK, whatever you say, Sir."

The key to room number 209 was handed over. Dangin turned around and stepped away.

"Don't you need a bellboy to bring your bag?"

Dangin turned his head.

"No, thank you. It's only a small suitcase. I can bring it by myself."

"Tanglier, what a strange and beautiful name. I first spotted the name on the left lapel of a black woman, the cashier of the restaurant where I had my breakfast this morning. Then the young white woman at the front desk had the same name printed on a tag pinned in the left lapel of her uniform.

"I first met the black woman, but the young white woman had stronger sex appeal. Even the appeal of Gloria Estefan was nothing compared to hers. She spoke perfect English but with a strong Spanish accent. She must have been from Cuba, Argentina or Colombia. At least from one of the Latin America countries."

The thundering waves hit Miami beach not far from his room. Beautiful. However, it would have been more enjoyable from his former room on the eighth floor. But Dangin preferred to be in the new room. The height of the eighth floor had worried him and he could not sleep well. He was frightened that an accident, like one that befell Abidin, would happen to him. The young man had screamed suddenly then ran amok. And before Dangin could calm him down he had run to the window and jumped from the room on the seventh floor. His body crashed into the gravel yard below.

Since then, Dangin has never dared stay in a hotel room if it was located higher then the second floor. He always made a reservation for a room on the first floor, though more often than not, he stayed on the second floor.

Then yesterday, he took without complaint the key to room number eight-one-eight on the eighth floor, even though he had made a reservation for the first floor. Later, he realized that the accident which had occurred three years before still haunted him. He was tremendously scared. It was, therefore, after breakfast that he hurriedly went to the front desk and asked to move to a lower floor.

"Do I need to tell Tanglier the reason why I moved? If I do, she will certainly laugh and look upon me as a child. No, never let that happen.

"Tanglier. I clearly heard your name everywhere on the beach. Uttered by the breeze, by the waves, by the shifting sands, by those who lost themselves in the embrace of love. And, don't forget, by me.

"The row of hotels, condominiums and apartments watch you intently and greedily although they do it in shame. All adore you, all are waiting for your words and greeting. But who is going to be the winner? Who will be able to monopolize you?"

Tanglier, a refugee from Cuba, was assigned in the front office of Dellevue Hotel and was completely unaware of the enchantment she had cast over the young man.

In room 209, Dangin, who thirst for affection, dreamed a sweet dream. Tanglier had came over and given in totally. The roaring sound of the waves on the beach was the sound of the strong pounding of their love.

"Tanglier, I will introduce you to my father, to my mother, to my younger brother, to my family, to all my relatives. After that, you will officially become a member of our extended family."

"But in my old age I want to go back to Cuba."

"Yes, of course, as long as it will not be for good. We'll also come back here, where I met you for the first time. But later, we'll have to return. My hometown is yours because you have become a member of our big family."

The cloudy sky was the sorrow hanging in Tanglier's face.

"My longing for Cuba is as strong as my love for you. I want to have them both."

Dangin smiled and tried to hold Tanglier.

"No one can predict how much longer Castro will be in power. When he steps down, his successor will be one of his heirs or someone he appoints. You will always be humiliated because you will be considered as the product of capitalists. If you are prepared for that why don't you go there right now?".

Tanglier's lips trembled, she wanted to throw lines of words at him. But she couldn't. She only gazed at Dangin, who promised a ray of hope that couldn't be cut off by anybody. Tanglier, who was tossed about by fate, was easily defeated by Dangin. And Dangin was fated the winner.

Everything moved fast. Time doesn't allowed anything to move slowly. Dangin went to the lobby, directly to the front office to look for Tanglier.

"Miss Tanglier is off today. She will be in tomorrow. Any message?", asked the receptionist.

"Oh, no, I just wanted to say hello."

One day later, Dangin came down for the same purpose.

"She was here for a moment. Then she asked for two days leave to go to Tampa to be present at the funeral of her relative. Any message?".

Dangin prolonged his stay in the hotel for two days just to wait for Tanglier.

Then when he met her, Dangin released what he had kept in his heart. Tanglier listened to him intently, stood like a statue and occasionally she pointed toward other receptionists when someone approached her to ask for something.

That night they lay on the beach under the dim light of the boardwalk that stretched from the hotel, which extended out onto the shore, to the 21 floored apartments near the beach.

"This beach has frequently affected people with various moods," Tanglier said. "There were times when it was irrational. You might not believed that a husband would, all of a sudden, want to reconcile with his wife after he had sunbathed here all day.

"Then the other day, a young man and a girl met here just by accident and a day later they got married. But the most unbelievable case was one that happened last month. An old man, who had lain here for a week, without even touching the water, suddenly wailed. Then he went to the police station to reveal that he was a member of drug trafficking network. It sounds superstitious, doesn't it?"

Dangin guessed what she meant. The teasing offended him.

"So this beach also lulled me into that nonsense."

"I didn't say that. You did."

"You mean I am dreaming?"

"It's you who said that."

"Am I wrong if I say all what I heard on the front desk during the day?"

"No."

Actually Dangin wanted to ask whether Tanglier loved him or not. But the question was stuck in him throat. He didn't ask, so Tanglier didn't answer. Miami beach suddenly turned bad in Dangin's eyes and Tanglier's glamor want away with the waves' incessant roaring sound. They went back to the hotel and Tanglier called a taxi to go home.

When Dangin checked out in the morning he also looked for Tanglier. The beautiful young Cuban woman was not there. Dangin inquired at the reception desk about Tanglier's whereabouts. The receptionist only pointed toward the right corner, where the cashier of the restaurant was busy receiving cash from customers.

"What I mean is Tanglier the receptionist."

"Only one person with that name in this hotel," said the receptionist without turning his head from the paper he was reading.

"Mister," Dangin continued, "the Tanglier I am looking for is the woman who works at this desk. Tanglier, who went to the beach with me after her duty last night."

The receptionist turned his head and looked at Dangin curiously. He sniffed, as if tying to smell something.

"No, you are not drunk. I first thought you were just kidding. Try to remember whether it was her or not that went along with you to the beach last night," the receptionist said with a smile, pointing to the cashier.

Dangin was about to ram the receptionist's head against the wall when he heard someone said something behind him. Several people had actually stood in line behind him to talk to the receptionist.

Infuriated, Dangin left the lobby. Before calling a taxi, he looked around in case Tanglier was somewhere there. But the woman he searched for was not around.

He wanted to go back to the front desk but hesitation. Tanglier's remarks suddenly reverberated in his mind: "This beach has frequently affected people with various moods," Then he felt the wailing man, who had gone to the police station to reveal his secret, stand before him. Superstition. Suddenly he shuddered in horror.

He hurriedly left the main entrance of the hotel and called a taxi. The taxi sped out of the hotel entrance.

The receptionist -- the one Dangin had made his enquiries to -- was half shouting a call to Tanglier. But the beautiful young Cuban woman was still there, behind the glass wall of the souvenir store, which was located in the corridor next to the front desk.

"When will I stop acting like this?" she asked herself. "How many more men will be cheated this way?"

The receptionist repeated his shout, this time louder. Tanglier moved from the open door of the shop. She moved slowly. Tears running down her cheeks.

Sori Siregar was born in Medan, North Sumatra, on Nov. 12, 1938. A participant in the International Writing Program at the University of Iowa in 1970/1971, he worked as an international broadcaster for the Indonesian section of BBC radio for two years, beginning in 1972. He has contributed extensively to magazines and journals and is the author of six novels. A new collection of his short stories, Myth, will be published this year.