Mr. President's watch

Zaki Zubaidi

Just like yesterday, on this particular Sunday, Mr. President's residence looked deserted. On this quiet day, a few guards were seen walking up and down the yard, while the presidential cooks were busy in the kitchen preparing a breakfast typical of the Country of the Rainbow. From the seven cages hanging above the veranda, turtle doves could be heard singing melodiously to welcome the quiet Sunday -- the one day when Mr. President hated being bothered by the routine of state affairs.

The door to the President's bedroom was tightly closed, guarded by only two security personnel. It was already eight o'clock, but Mr. President was still in bed. He woke up later than usual, as he had just returned from his visit to the Country of the Stars to foster bilateral ties recently strained by border disputes.

Mr. President lived alone in his palace. He had divorced his wife on the day he was sworn in. His three children had opted to follow their mother, as they did not want to be fenced in by presidential regulations. His advisors had suggested that he re- marry, but he had rejected all the women who had been introduced to him.

"Good morning, Mr. President," the two guards greeted him in unison.

"Good morning," replied Mr. President, walking toward the dining room. His face looked radiant, although he seemed slightly tired from his trip. He was not only a kind, simple and humble leader, but he was very close to everyone in the palace.

"Have you all had your breakfast?" Mr. President asked the maids.

"Yes, Sir."

"Have you seen Sardi?" Mr. President asked after his personal advisor.

"Good morning, Sir," Sardi spoke up. "I am sorry, Sir. I just received a call from the Country of the Stars. I thought you were still asleep, Sir."

"Did they leave any messages?" Mr. President's asked anxiously, while his face flashed a broad, happy smile.

"They'll call again, around 12 o'clock," Sardi explained.

He cast an empty gaze up into the sky, his face beaming. Mr. President seemed to be imagining something beautiful.

"What would you like to eat, Sir?" A maid's voice interrupted his dream.

"Um ... just Pecel Lele. Are you not joining me, Sardi?"

"No, Sir, I have already had my breakfast. Enjoy your meal, Sir," Sardi replied.

Sardi left Mr. President, wondering to himself why Mr. President looked a bit moody. Sardi was sure it was not state affairs that had made him depressed, but rather the memory of his wife and children. And besides, Sardi had noticed something bizarre: Mr. President was wearing a watch -- something Sardi had never seen him do before -- even though Sardi had repeatedly advised him to do so.

After breakfast, Mr. President walked into the living room, where he usually watched TV or read the paper on Sundays.

"You'd better not read any newspaper or watch TV," Sardi suggested, just when Mr. President was about to reach for a paper to read.

"Why?" asked Mr. President, surprised.

"So as not to spoil your happiness," said Sardi, trying to start a conversation.

"Happiness? How did you know that I am happy?"

"I can see it from your smile ... and your watch."

"My watch?" He looked down at his watch, grinning.

"Is it a keepsake from the Country of the Stars, Sir?"

"That's right, Sardi. You know that the country is really gorgeous, much more beautiful than you can imagine. It has abundant natural resources, a splendid natural environment and well-managed forests, plus friendly people. It will be a big mistake if we do not maintain a good relationship with them."

"So, what about the watch then?" Sardi pressed.

"Why are you so curious about it, hmm?"

"There must be some businessman who is interested in investing his money here to ease the tension after the border dispute," Sardi said cynically.

"You are wrong, Sardi."

"So ... what is it?"

"What time is it now? Why haven't they called yet?" Mr. President asked with an air of finality.

"Maybe in a minute," Sardi answered curiously.

Mr. President felt that time seemed to be dragging by terribly. He was looking forward to a call from the Country of the Stars. He walked up and down, occasionally looking at his watch.

Sardi, still curious about the watch, had returned to his room.

The telephone rang.

Mr. President immediately picked up the receiver.

Sardi seemed more anxious to know what all this was about, but unable to eavesdrop on the phone conversation, he tried hard to figure out what may have happened to the President instead.

"Sardi!" Mr. President called. "When is my next holiday?"

This was quite unusual, as Mr. President had never shouted like this before.

"I am coming, Sir," Sardi said, wondering.

Sardi at once grabbed a calender to take a look at the holidays. He is planning another visit to the Country of the Stars, he thought.

"February 14, Sir!" Sardi answered, hurriedly approaching Mr. President.

Sardi was trying to catch his breath when Mr. President gestured to him to leave. Mr. President continued his conversation for a few minutes, looked around his room, then threw himself into a chair. Seconds later, he closed his eyes, with a small smile on his face.

Awakened by a crash on the veranda, Mr. President, along with Sardi, rushed outside. They found a cage lying on the floor, its door open.

Seeing Mr. President's beloved bird flying toward freedom, the maid turned pale, afraid that she would be reprimanded.

"I am terribly sorry, Sir -- it's all my fault."

"You'd better be careful next time!" Sardi admonished.

The turtle doves had been Mr. President's faithful companions all these years.

"It's all right. Clean up the mess and remove all the cages from here and hang flowerpots in their places," Mr. President said calmly, walking inside.

"But, Sir?" Sardi said, wonderingly, while the other maids looked on in surprise.

"It's all right, I just want to have a different atmosphere." Mr. President's face showed no sign of disappointment.

It was getting dark. The shadows of the birds returning to their nests were reflected in the purplish-yellow skies.

Everything in the palace looked exactly the same as yesterday, but the palace staff were perplexed by Mr. President's strange behavior.

"Your dinner is ready, Sir," a maid announced.

"I don't feel like eating yet."

"But you must take your medicine," she reminded him.

"I am not taking my medicine anymore."

"But ... I am afraid that without your medicine, you will have a problem with your heart," the maid said, concerned.

"No, you are mistaken. I've never felt better, looking at his watch."

Worried about Mr. President's condition, the maid urged Sardi to go and ask Mr. President about what was really happening.

"Why are you not taking your medicine today?" asked Sardi.

"I don't feel like taking it," he said, simply.

Sardi glanced at his watch. "Is it because of the watch?"

"Perhaps."

"Is there anything special about the watch?" Sardi asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Very special," replied Mr. President.

"Would you mind telling me about it?" Sardi prodded.

"Gorgeous and admirable ... she is the princess of the Country of the Stars."

"So you ...!" Sardi began.

"Yes, I am falling in love," Mr. President said softly, looking at his watch.

It had never occurred to Sardi that Mr. President would ever fall in love again. He was speechless.

"I knew that you would be very surprised, but that's what is really happening," Mr. President rose from his seat and walked into his room, leaving Sardi behind.

The morning sun was shining brightly and the palace was just the same as yesterday, but no birds could be heard. Everyone in the palace was busy with their work and the guards were walking boldly up and down the yard.

Sardi was getting ready to accompany the President to attend the 11 o'clock meeting. Breakfast was no longer hot, as it was already 10:30 a.m.

Mr. President was still in his bed.

Sardi, looking very tense, paced up and down the room. Time and again he looked at his watch, fearing for Mr. President's health.

Mr. President should have been ready half an hour ago, but no one dared to knock on his door to wake him up. Time seemed to be going by fast, and everyone in the palace grew more and more nervous.

Some palace guards were seen standing outside the guardhouse, while others were patrolling the palace yards.

Suddenly, Sardi heard a turtle dove singing from a flowerpot hanging above the veranda.

Everything was the same as yesterday, except for Mr. President.

Translated by Faldy Rasyidie

Pecel lele: Fried catfish in chili sauce