Sketch

By Putu Wijaya

Two small boys were engrossed in their war game. One was Tony, a son of an affluent family. The other was Udin, the son of a very poor family.

Their parents might be contrasted like the sky and the gutter. But in the eyes of Tony and Udin, there was only one world. The human souls inside them were the same and their feelings were the same. Both were happy to have a friend to play with. Both were glad to chase each other. Rich or poor, each had only one tummy.

When afternoon came, Tony and Udin would emerge. They roamed the narrow alleys of the kampong looking for fish in filthy sewers. They hugged each other. They rolled in the dirt. They laughed together. They whacked each other's heads, they pulled each other's legs.

But, as children always do, they quarreled. Having had a lot of fun together, they fought with each other. And, because Udin was a street urchin used to a tough life, and although he was as skinny as a skeleton and his stomach was filled with nothing but garbage, he had more power. When he hit Tony, his punch was staggering. Tony fell over. His head started to bleed. Not because of the blow, but because he hit the iron fence.

Tony did not cry. Instead, he laughed. Unfortunately, his mother saw it happen. The woman was immediately panic stricken. She shrieked from the upstairs window as she saw blood coming down her son's skull. Yelling at her servants, she said, "Call Pak Hansip, call Pak Hansip. Quick. They're going to kill Tony!"

In less than a second, the two hansip (security guards) emerged. They had been indulging themselves in nasi bungkus and side dishes -- sent by Tony's mom. Perhaps, because every guard in the area had received a uniform, a bicycle or nasi bungkus from the family, anything to do with a member of the family became their top priority.

They rushed out of their hut as if chasing a pickpocket. Tony was immediately taken to a doctor. Udin was scolded and dragged into the hansip post to be given a lesson. Neighbors were able to hear the dramatic and dubious interrogation process. Many claimed they heard "Thud! Thud! Thud!" coming from the guard's quarters. It could have been kicks or punches. Not long afterwards, people heard Udin scream for mercy. "Enough. Please. Enough!" It sounded as if he was going to die.

The crowd was roused by what they heard. At first they raised questions. Then they began interpreting. And finally they gave their opinions, as if they had witnessed everything themselves.

"That's crazy. That's over-reacting. Isn't it too much for little Udin?"

"Maybe Udin didn't mean to hurt Tony. Why is a child who did something he didn't mean being punished like a burglar? They are both children aren't they? To hell with that rich family."

"An innocent child should not be treated like a criminal. That's dictatorship!"

"That's an overdose. No longer proportional. Cannot be tolerated anymore."

"Is this still the colonial era? Just because Udin comes from a poor family, can they simply trample on his basic human rights? No way. We should protect the weak and the poor. This is not a jungle. We should fight for Udin's sake. It's so unfair."

"We should do something. We should fight for justice. If we don't do anything, everything will get more chaotic around here. Come. Let's do something. This is what we get when our hansips get paid by rich people. I warned you didn't I? Now we don't have the courage to take a stand. Let's go! Let them hear our voice."

Everyone agreed and began to move. But they didn't go to the hansip post. They went to Tony's mansion instead. They began to shout in front of the tall, thick fence.

"You crazy plutocrat. Immoral mogul. How cruel you are," they screamed.

Driven by anger, some people started to bang on the fence and throw stones at it. Someone started throwing shit against the wall, followed by curses that were getting dirtier and dirtier. Anything that bore any relationship with the rich family suddenly became sinful.

"Hey, damn you. Just because you sponsored our guard's uniforms, you think you can just punish people as you like, huh. You anarchist. Nazi!"

"You may have heaps of cash but you have more sins. Don't you know that? Go to hell."

"Who gave you the authority to torture a small child? Do you think your ancestors own this country? God damn you."

"You manipulator. You got rich quickly and now you do this to us. Bandit. Criminal! It's you who should be tortured. Come on folks. Let's teach them a lesson."

"Let's do it."

More shit and stones hit the house.

The rich family's house was heavily damaged. The hansips were summoned again, this time quietly.

The guards, who were about to begin their noodle party, quickly put down their bowls and left their comfortable post. They headed straight to the house to disband the protesters. Among those hansips was an ex-KNIL, a Dutch occupation soldier. People had heard that he drew mounds of pleasure from killing people. Seeing him coming, the protesters decided not to risk it and fled. "Run. Run! Watch out. A KNILLLL."

***

Soon the neighboring kampong got news of the incident. They were touched but became indignant anyway. Solidarity reigned. When they found out that Udin, the son of a poor family with no backing, was the victim, they became overwhelmed by dismay. Spontaneously they began donating money. One rupiah, two rupiah.

Udin's shack was in such a poor condition that many people were touched when they saw it. Some went home and came back with rice and used clothes. It had never occurred to them that such profound poverty existed in the kampong. They couldn't imagine a misery such as Udin's. How could you survive, let alone smile, as Udin's parents did.

Some neighbors even came up with ideas.

"What if we just kick Tony and his family out of this area? Ever since they came to live here, our lives have not been the same. Their wealth has caused unrest. Their prosperity brings trouble more than anything else. It threatens us rather than making us happy. Without them we would be happier. With them around our happiness disappeared," one youth expostulated.

For the first time in the history of the kampong, the shack where Udin and his parents lived, which was located in an alley called Gang Gugus Depan, was packed with visitors. All shared the same sad feelings. They did their best to console Udin's parents, while those who had at one time or another been offended, grazed or hurt by Tony's parents, started to instigate hatred.

"They really don't have empathy. Just because they have so much money, they show off their Baby Benz. No consideration for us, while in fact a lot of us have nothing to eat. They should not inflict social jealousy like that."

"I'm sure they got rich through corruption. At least they must have gone through the back door. Otherwise, how could they accumulate such a fortune? Haven't you heard people say their dinner plates are gold-plated?"

"What do you folks think if we burned their tall house just a little?"

"Agreed."

"OK. I'll bring some gasoline."

"You go in first and climb."

"No way. All of us."

"When?"

"Right now!"

"Okay."

All this whispering didn't get above the level of bullshit. Although it sounded so charged and so serious, no one did a thing. After boiling, spilling over and then cooling down, their anger deflated like a ruptured abscess. By then everybody had found relief in their emotional orgasm. Tired, retired and then cold. Then, once happy and calm, they accepted everything.

***

As the night crawled along, the atmosphere in the hut became like a family gathering. Many people who had not seen each other for some time exchanged greetings. They asked each other how they had been doing. Amiable conversation followed. Some joked, trying to sell their anecdotes. Among the topics of conversation were business-related matters. Not long afterwards, five visitors cleared a place in a corner and started playing dominoes. Udin's shack had turned into a community hall.

Udin's beating triggered nostalgia among the neighbors. They got together like they had as children, when Jakarta wasn't as crowded and when there was still some greenery. They talked and laughed. Udin had totally disappeared from their conversation.

Suddenly, in the midst of the cordiality, a surprise hit the party.

Without warning, Udin showed up at the mouth of the alley. Everybody became tense. They quickly welcomed him home. The anger that had receded made them treat Udin like a hero.

Children looked at him as their idol. They showed their sympathy. Several youths started to sing songs of protest to complement the stage. They fought their way to shake Udin's hand. They patted his shoulders and head. An elderly man, a retired journalist, showed his deepest sympathy for Udin by making a speech. He dubbed the boy "the symbol of strength".

"My dearest brothers and sisters, after years of waiting, we have finally rediscovered our own identity in a small boy whom we have regarded as rubbish. It has been proven one more time that a leader may be born anywhere and out of any condition. This demonstrates that where one grows-up does not matter, as long as he has a big mind. Like Hitler, for example."

That night Udin became "the symbol of truth". He was the focus of attention. He was a king, despite the fact that everybody knew Udin was a naughty child who repeatedly stole his neighbors' chickens.

Only after the emotional explosion of solidarity did they look closely at Udin.

"My goodness, you look okay. I thought they had beaten you to death."

"You must have magical power. You were tortured and now you're laughing."

"Look he is beaming, he looks so happy."

Udin kept smiling, holding all the money that had just been donated to him.

"How come you're so happy? Did you enjoy being beaten?" someone asked.

Udin shook his head innocently. "No."

"How come you're smiling, then?"

Udin still smiled.

"Who was beaten?'

"You were, weren't you?"

"No."

Everybody was startled.

"What do you mean? We all heard you scream like hell. You don't have to be afraid to tell us exactly what happened. We're on your side, understand? What did they do to you in there?'

Udin continued to smile, burying the donations into his pockets.

"They told me to scream."

"What?"

"They didn't beat me. They just told me to scream. They said, it was just to make Tony's mom happy. Bang Hansip even gave me some mixed noodles. It was nice in there. I think I'll go there again if they tell me to."

Everybody began to grumble. But, before they could get over their initial surprise, they got a bigger shock. A Mercedes Benz stopped at the end of the alley and Tony's parents got out. Tony followed with a bandage on his head. But he immediately called to Udin joyfully. "Diiinnn!"

Nodding their heads to the gaggle of people, Tony's father and mother went up to Udin, who smiled with sudden shyness. After examining Udin and ascertaining that he had not been hurt, Tony's parents patted him exactly the way they would pat Tony. So lovingly, so familiar.

Then they shook hands with Udin's parents.

"We'd like to apologize to you. It was not our intention to treat you like that. We just reported to the hansips that our son had been injured. Without our knowledge they did what they thought they should do. We heard they grabbed Udin and treated him rough. We feel really bad. We're so sorry. It was not what we wanted. We will stop our donations if the hansip who did it is not suspended. We have in fact recommended that he should be fired, as he has beaten a child without first finding out what the problem really was. Hansips like him can be dangerous. We really wish he had consulted us first. We're so disappointed and we apologize. Thank God Udin is a strong child. that's very good. Udin is a smart child," Tony's father spouted.

No one answered. They were still trying to make sense of everything. Tony's mom continued.

"We have decided, and this has been our plan for some time, but only now do we find the right time to let you know. We have decided that we'll pay for all Udin's education until he gets a job. From now on, Udin is our foster child. Udin is an intelligent boy. If he has the opportunity, he will become somebody who will do good things for us all. He will surely succeed in his life. Let him become a model for the others."

Everybody gasped. They couldn't believe what they just heard. In the meantime, Tony and Udin had once again gotten immersed in their cowboys and Indians game. Shooting each other. Roughhousing.

The people were stunned. The youths who had been singing the songs of protest had long stopped their singing. They had dropped their guitar as if it was an old sandal. Then they began admiring the Baby Benz in front of the alley. They stared at it, they gazed at it as if it was a goddess. They were awed, they lusted and they felt inferior.

Udin's life changed. He was no longer destitute. He became the foster son of a rich family, wearing expensive clothes. His stomach was full and his future is bright.

Udin's parents got their share. Their shack was renovated and they were given some capital to start a business selling cigarettes at the mouth of the alley. The poor family defeated their fate.

From that night on, a new dream captivated everyone in the area. They dreamed that one day the same good fortune might strike them. If yesterday was Udin's lucky day, perhaps tomorrow would be theirs.

Therefore, from that night on, more and more children in the kampong punch each other in the head.

Translated by Zatni Arbi

Putu Wijaya has written countless short stories, essays, novels, plays and film scripts. Born on April 11, 1944, in Tabanan, Bali, his ability to divide his time among all his art activities never ceases to amaze. He is also a movie and theater director and was a journalist for the now-defunct Tempo magazine. His short story Sket (Sketch) appears in Kado Istimewa: Cerpen Pilihan Kompas 1992 (A Special Gift: An Anthology of Kompas Short Stories 1992). It is printed here by courtesy of the Kompas daily.