Ayu's Decision

By Ariani Kartika

This afternoon my sister Sekar came home again by a taxi. She walked in without removing her shoes, forbidden in our family. I knew she had not forgotten our customs but it was just her way of saying, "Look, I live as a Westerner".

She tossed her bags on the table, and walked straight to kitchen without taking off her sunglasses. The kitchen was dimly lit, so she casually slipped off the glasses. She poured a glass of water from a bottle and drank it in a single go.

She comes and goes as she pleases. I have not seen her for about three months. I heard she had moved to Bangkok to live with her expatriate boyfriend.

To me, Sekar is an angel, but to our disapproving father she is a sinful daughter. No sooner had Sekar arrived than my father rose from his chair and went into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Sekar was not welcome.

Mother came out from the back. "When did you arrive?" she asked.

"Two days ago," Sekar said, putting the empty glass on the dinner table. "I have a gift for you, mama."

My mother and I followed her to the living room. Sekar brought out a brightly wrapped package for mother. As mother opened it, I could see a slight glimmer in her eyes. Mother always tries to hide her emotions, which is why she can continue to live with father.

"It's very beautiful, Sekar. It must be a very expensive fabric."

"The price is not important, mother, as long as you like it."

"But... what should I do with this fabric?"

"Well, you can make some Moslem attire, for example. This fabric is enough to make a long skirt and matching jacket. You can wear it for religious or social occasions. I will pay for the tailoring," Sekar said, trying to make mother happy.

Mother smiled. She looked pleased at Sekar's idea. She left Sekar and I alone so we could talk. There had been a distance between Sekar and mother since my sister chose to live as a Westerner, but there was still the mother-daughter bond.

Sekar sat down, opened her bag and took out a cigarette and a match. She pulled at the cigarette, put it in her mouth and began to light it. I was about to remind her that smoking is forbidden in the house when father is around, but she seemed to realize that she was doing something improper.

She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth, stared at me and said: "So, smoking is still not allowed here."

I nodded. "This is his house, and as long as you are here you have to obey his rules. Father doesn't smoke, so you're expected not to smoke here, especially because you're a woman. He hates women who smoke."

"Yeaaah... he thinks a woman should not smoke unless she's a bitch."

Sekar put the cigarette and the match on the table. She leaned back in the chair. "I called you yesterday in your office. They told me that you didn't work there anymore."

"I was laid off two months ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"How? I didn't even know where you were!"

"Sorry, I was in Bangkok. So, what are you doing now?"

"I have tried to find a new job, but it's very difficult in the crisis. So, mostly I stay at home. What a bore! Father is mad at me all the time, he says I have to find a new job. He seems not to realize that it's difficult to find a job nowadays. So many people have lost their jobs. The competition is so tough."

"Heh...," she grinned sarcastically. "He always tells us to do this, to do that, but what has he done for his family? He has never done any meaningful thing for us. Poor mother, she should have left him for a better husband."

"Shhh," I stopped her before she went too far.

"Who cares."

I laughed in my heart. She knows nothing about husbands. She has never had one, only boyfriends. She changes them and never sticks with one, which is why father calls her a whore. Now she has dated Mike for a year, quite long compared to her other relationships.

Upstanding women or girls are always uncomfortable with people like Sekar. They are afraid she will steal their men.

Sekar is three years older than me. When I was a kid she was my idol. I copied the way she dressed, went with her everywhere and did anything she asked. It was a joy for me, but an annoyance for her. Sometimes she got mad at me and warned me to stop trailing her.

I would usually stop for a while, but soon I would start to annoy her again.

She inherited our father's tough character and I'm the submissive woman like mother. Sekar cannot get along with father because she is just like him. Two stones make fire when they strike each other.

When I was a kid, Sekar used to treat me the way our father treated mother. She always dominated me and I did as I was told. As a reward, she protected me from naughty boys.

When I grew up, I realized that she was far from being fair. Slowly, I freed myself from her domination. Our mother, on the other hand, never succeeded in freeing herself from her husband.

"Do you need some money?" Sekar asked me.

"Yes, I'm broke."

She opened her purse and gave me some 10,000 rupiah bills. "Take this. Don't forget to tell me any time you need money."

I happily took the money.

A few moments later we heard our father barking in his bedroom but we could not catch what he was saying. We knew he was irate, and we could also hear mother crying.

We rushed in. Mother sobbed as she sat on the edge of the bed. On the floor lay the fabric that Sekar has presented her, torn into shreds. I was sad because it was the best fabric mother had ever received. Father objected to the gift.

He is always resentful of any gift from Sekar. He pointed his finger at her, shouting: "Don't you dare give my family a damn thing. We would rather die than accept your things."

I tightened my grip on the money, I didn't want him to know that Sekar had just given me some bills. He would tear them up.

Sekar's face stiffened. I thought she would yell back at him as she often did. Instead, she turned her back on him and left.

I followed her as far as the front door, with my eyes staying with her until she jumped into a taxi.

My heart shouts: I wish she would take me away. I can't bear all these burdens anymore. I envy her life. She doesn't live in fear of father but is free like a butterfly. She can buy expensive things that I cannot afford on my salary. I don't care how she makes a living.

Tears streamed down my cheeks when the taxi disappeared at the bend in the road. She was gone, leaving me in a house which had turned into a hell for me.

I looked into the mirror, combing my primly cut hair again and again. Sometimes I used my fingers to get the wild "natural" look. I peered at my face. Did I put on enough powder and lipstick? I don't like too much makeup, but I wanted to be sexy today. I wore a tight T-shirt with jeans.

Tonight I will have fun and not care about parents' rules. I am tired of their good-girl policy. What have I got? Nothing, except boredom and poverty.

After the last incident at home, I decided to leave. Enough is enough. I want to live like my sister. Sekar has agreed let me use a room in her home until I find my own place.

I hear Sekar's call. I pick up.

"Hello."

"Ayu, are you ready?" Sekar asks.

"I'm ready. When will you pick me up?"

"Soon. I'm at Mike's house now. We will go to Hard Rock Cafe. Just be ready. I'll call you again."

I look back into the mirror. I realize that I'm as pretty as people have told me. How stupid I was for never taking advantage of my appearance for a better life. For years, I have devoted myself to my parents by giving them some of my meager salary, sacrificing my dreams of fancy clothes, perfumes, cosmetics and all kinds of things that women adore.

After waiting for two hours, I still do not see any sign of Sekar. I turn on the radio to kill the monotony. I'm almost asleep when I hear a knock at the door. I open it and see her there.

She asks me to hurry up. "They are waiting in the car."

"OK."

I grab my bag and join them. There is a car waiting with its engine running. I join Sekar in the back seat. There are two men in front. Mike is driving but I don't know the second man.

"Mike, do you remember my sister Ayu," Sekar asks.

Mike turns his head and says, "Of course. Hi Ayu, how are you?"

"I'm fine," I say with a faint smile. It is an unfamiliar situation and I am uncomfortable.

"Sekar, you never told me you had a pretty sister," his friend says.

They both laugh, but I feel myself blushing. Fortunately the darkness hides it.

"She is shy, Jerry, give her some time," Sekar jumps in to defend me. "Ayu, this is Jerry, Mike's friend."

"OK, shall we go now?"

The car moves slowly in the luminous night, under shimmering neon lights.

Tonight, I made an important decision. I want to be a different person. A question haunts me still: Is this what I really want, what I have dreamed of?

I don't have the answer yet. Only the future will end my questioning.

-- Translated by TIS