Hiding

Hiding

By Sri Kiswanti

The ancient church on the road was located precisely next to
Mr. Sartono's house. It was going to be demolished and everybody
knew this. The village head had distributed a circular to local
residents about the road-widening project two weeks earlier. The
problem about this was that the church was not just a place of
worship for the local residents. Oh no. More importantly, the
church had its own historical value, it was said, and many local
residents voiced their disagreement of its slated demolition.

Everyone in the village recognized the good intentions of the
village head when he told them that he would have a new, better
and larger church built on a plot of land owned by the village
administration. But, once again, the problem was not that simple
for the local residents.

"Although we have never visited the church, it does not mean
that we don't care about its presence. However bad one may think
of us, we are sane enough to continue taking care of it," said
some villagers. But what about Mr. Sartono? He looked calm and
unperturbed.

For all the years it stood, there had never been more than
three villagers who went to this church on Sundays. The majority
of the church congregation, therefore, was made up of the people
living in the next village.

Mr. Sartono simply smiled when Broto, a cock-fight enthusiast,
came to his house saying that if the village head had the courage
to demolish the church, he and his friends would lodge a protest.

"This is a matter of self respect!" Broto said.

Looking thoughtful he added that the disappearance of the
church would bring discomfort to the lives of the villagers
because in its absence they would become too concerned with other
pressing matters.

Mr. Sartono could guess where Broto was leading him. Broto's
house, also located on the road but to the east, greatly depended
on the presence of it. If the church was torn down, so would his
house.

Parlan, Lopeh, Sukas and Kawit, who usually spent their
nights playing cards at the night watch post, also came to Mr.
Sartono's house. They expressed their disapproval of the plan to
demolish the church for a road-widening project, too.

Their houses, just like Broto's, were located on the road and
would also be demolished if the church had to go. All the houses
depended on the outcome of the church.

"Trust me, sir, we will go to church regularly," Sukas tried
to assure Sartono.

"In our childhood we often performed a mass there," added
Lopeh, trying hard to revive a past memory.

Again, Mr. Sartono only smiled.

Words were passed around that Mr. Sartono disapproved of the
plan to broaden the road. No one knew who first spread this
rumor. As the villagers understood it, Mr. Sartono never objected
to this plan although his house was located next to the church.
The village head gave his promise to have a better church built
on a plot of land owned by the village administration.

As Mr. Sartono was one of the village figures, this rumor had
spread rapidly. Mr. Sartono himself was not aware of it until
someone visited him and told him about it. As usual, he only
smiled. He knew well that his name had been intentionally used to
block the road-widening project.

But Mr. Sartono didn't take the trouble to respond to the
rumor. He believed that it would disappear by itself and the
eventual truth would be found out. Mr. Sartono simply proceeded
with his routine and went every day to his rice field to till the
land, unruffled by the rumor.

The rumor that Mr. Sartono was against the road-widening
project was spreading even wider now. Everybody talked about it.
At the food stall, in the rice field, in the market or even at
school; all the villagers had heard about it. All of them.

Yet, the rumor remained just that. The road-widening project
went on regardless. The village head and some administration
officials had measured the yards which would be appropriated for
the project. According to the village head, after it was
completed, the road would be asphalted. Then they would propose
to the relevant authorities that rural transportation could use
this road. In this way the villagers would no longer need to walk
nor ride a bike to town.

All these nice plans, however, failed to arouse the villagers'
enthusiasm to support the project.

One day, the villagers whose land, houses or yards would be
affected by the project visited Sartono's house. They knew Mr.
Sartono kept quiet and they also knew he was the only person who
could help them stop this project.

"It is not that we are unwilling to give up our land for the
road-widening project. No. But, the church, Mr. Sartono. We must
stop it from being pulled down. You must remember that the church
used to help us a lot," said one of them, trying to recall
something about it.

"Right. Besides, this is the oldest church in the village,"
added another person. Sartono knew full well that this man
usually sat on the bridge close to the district market, a red-
light area.

One day, the village head came to Mr. Sartono's house. He
thought he would discuss the rumor about his disapproval of the
road-widening plan.

He was wrong. The village head told him that the plan had been
dropped.

"Why?" Mr. Sartono asked surprised.

"The usual financial difficulty."

"Yesterday?"

"Yes, yesterday. We got a promise that the fund would be
dropped,but ..."

"But why?"

"Suddenly there was a notification that the plan had to be
aborted. The funds promised will be used for other important
matters," the village head said.

Mr. Sartono sat in front of the church with the other two
regular churchgoers. Just as before the introduction and aborting
of the road-widening plan, there was only Mr. Sartono and the two
others.

Three weeks later, the old church which was already hundreds
of years old collapsed. The walls and rafters were rotten and
hollow. Mr. Sartono tried asking the other villagers to lend a
hand to rebuild it, but there was no response. The villagers'
houses remained locked as if they were unoccupied.

-- Translated by Lie Hua