The tri-colored calico

Amir Yahyapati ABY

With a screech of brakes and squeal of rubber, a cat crossing the road was crushed under the wheels of a public minivan. Its insides spilled out of its torn belly. The cat convulsed briefly and then lay still. Dead!

Kadirun, the driver, stopped the car abruptly and got out to check on the cat. Shocked, his mouth hung open.

"Too bad, too bad!" he muttered almost inaudibly to Karjo, his assistant.

"I have hit a cat with tri-colored fur. A bad omen. A harbinger of curse and bad luck. Come on, ask the passengers to move to another van. We'd better take a day off today to avoid any misfortune."

Karjo nodded. He knew very well that drivers believed cats brought curses and it was bad luck for a driver to hit one.

"Get a plastic bag, Jo. Put the dead cat into it and bury it properly."

Karjo leapt up to do his boss' bidding.

Suddenly, an old story he had heard dozens of years ago popped up in Kadirun's mind. His grandfather had been a coachman of a cow-drawn cart, used to carry the harvest home from the rice fields to market.

* * *

"The road, Run, is like a hungry tiger. You always have to be on the alert as otherwise, you will fall victim to it!" That was how Grandpa would always start his story.

"It is true that a road runs our lives, but it also kills people. Many have lost their lives because they were careless. So, if you want to become a good driver, take a break if you feel tired or sleepy. If you are even slightly negligent, you will put your life on the line. And remember, if you hit a cat, take a few days off. Don't forget to bury the cat properly.

"I have a bitter experience about hitting a cat."

"You hit it with your cart?" asked the young Kadirun.

"Yes."

"What happened, Grandpa?" Kadirun was eager to hear the story. He knew his grandpa's experience would be a good lesson for him when he became a driver.

"I was hauling cassava from Kang Sukri's field. When I got to Wonocolo Bridge, close to the market, I hit a cat with my cart. I swore at the cat. I was angry, so I threw its carcass into the river."

"Then ...?" prodded Run.

"Three days later, my cart fell into a ravine. Luckily, it wasn't deep, and I managed to jump out at the last moment to save my skin. But the cow broke two of its legs, and the cart was a mess. I sold the cow cheaply, and I had to spend quite a sum to have the cart repaired."

"Did you have the accident because you hit a cat?"

"I believe it was the cat that brought bad luck to me. I asked another coachman, Kang Wiryo, about it and he agreed. Then he advised me that I should properly bury the cat I had killed. 'Why don't you respect fellow living creatures?' he scolded. He also told me to take a few days off.

"Perhaps he heard the same story from his grandpa, and perhaps his grandpa heard the story from his own grandpa. I believe this superstition has existed from the beginning of time," reminisced Grandpa.

"Do all cats bring bad luck? I heard that only a cat with tri- colored fur does," said Run.

"Well, that reminds me. I have another piece of advice from Kang Wiryo. If you kill a cat whose fur has one or two colors, you simply have to bury it properly and take one or two days off. But if it happens to be a tri-colored calico, the way to prevent bad luck is rather complicated.

"Kang Wiryo said if you hit a cat like this, you had to visit the cat's grave for a week. Every time you go there, you must take with you three kinds of flowers: roses, jasmine and ylang- ylang. Scatter the flowers on the cat's grave.

"And, remember, you may not drive for one whole week."

"It's a ridiculous superstition, Grandpa, isn't it?" Kadirun said, torn between believing and disbelieving his grandpa's story.

"There is nothing ridiculous about it, Run," snapped Grandpa. "In my entire life as a coachman, I had only one accident. And it happened after I killed the cat, you see."

* * *

Kadirun was still undecided about what to do after recalling his grandpa's tale. He was worried that Karjo had not buried the cat properly, and had instead dumped it into the river.

He arose quickly and went to Karjo's house, which was only about a 100 meters from his.

"Where did you bury the cat, Jo?" he burst out upon finding Karjo, who was taking care of his only child.

"In the backyard, Kang. Under the mango tree," Karjo replied.

"Good, Jo, good," Kadirun said, relieved. "If you had dumped the cat into the river, we would have bad luck, Jo. You see, I have many things to do, to perform the rite required to dispel bad luck."

"What else is there to do, Kang?" Karjo asked, innocently.

"You've got time now, right, Jo? Please go buy some roses, jasmine and ylang-ylang. Just this once, Jo. I can ask my wife to buy these flowers afterwards. You can help me, right, Jo?"

"Of course, Kang, of course!"

Karjo called to his wife, and asking her to attend to their child, he hurried to the market.

Kadirun was determined to perform the rite properly. He did not his grandpa's fate to befall him also.

His grandpa had only a killed a cat with fur of one or two colors, so the consequence was not very serious. But Kadirun had hit a tri-colored calico.

Kadirun was determined to conduct the rite properly -- he did not want his wife and his three small children to suffer from the bad luck that would come.

He was the only breadwinner in the family. If something bad should happen to him, and he was injured seriously or worse, if he died, who would take care of his family?

"Here are the flowers, Kang," Karjo cut in, waking Kadirun from his somber reverie.

"Come on, Jo. Show me where you buried the cat. I want to pay respect to its grave."

They hurried out and around to the back of Karjo's house.

There, under the mango tree, was the cat's grave.

Kadirun felt slightly uncomfortable when the scent of the flowers hit him. It was a sweet fragrance, but somehow carried a mysterious air.

He scattered the flowers on the grave in a gesture of great solemnity and respect.

Before going home, Kadirun asked Karjo to go to Pak Gofar, their employer, to tell him that Kadirun would be taking a week's leave.

"Find another driver for this week so you can continue to work," Kadirun suggested.

"It's the same situation for me, Kang. I'll take a week off, too. I'm afraid something bad will happen to me if I continue to work. I'm your partner, right?" said Karjo, the age-old superstition beginning to sink in.

"It's your choice," said Kadirun.

* * *

When Kadirun first asked his wife, Maemunah, to buy him three specific kinds of flowers, she did not suspect a thing.

"For a visit to Dad's grave, Kang?" she asked.

"Right," Kadirun answered, without thinking.

But the next day and the day after, when Kadirun again asked her to buy the flowers, Maemunah became suspicious.

"Why do you visit Dad's grave every day, Kang?" she ventured.

"No," said Kadirun, his shoulders sagging.

"Then, what are the flowers for?"

Kadirun finally told his wife the whole story.

"So, you've taken a week off from driving just because you hit a tri-colored calico?" she asked, a little incredulously.

"You don't believe it is a bad omen?"

"I do, Kang, but don't let this little superstition cause us misery. You haven't driven for four days. Your daily earnings are just enough to feed the family. I've saved only a little from your earnings to pay for the children's tuition, textbooks and school uniforms, and also the electricity bill.

"But two days ago, our eldest, Jarot, asked for some money to buy a new book. We still have to pay installments for Toni's school uniform. And we haven't paid the tuition for our youngest Isma yet."

"But if I didn't take a week off as traditionally required and something bad happened to me, things would be worse, right? I may have an accident and be seriously injured or even killed. What would happen to our children then? I don't want my children to be fatherless!" argued Kadirun, frustrated.

"Isn't it enough to take just two to three days off, Kang?" suggested Maemunah.

"Use your head. I don't think the rite you have performed makes any sense at all! You visit this cat's grave and scatter three kinds of flowers there. Then, you're not allowed to work for a week. It's really nonsense," she scolded.

Kadirun could only hang his head, like a child being admonished by his mother.

"You must learn from every experience, Kang," his wife continued.

"It is true that you should take a few days off after hitting a cat and killing it. But you don't have to not work for a whole week.

"If you hit a cat, or any other animal, this only means that you have become careless. It means you need to rest for a day or two so that you can be fully alert again when you're behind the wheel," she finished.

Just then, a silver-white Kijang pulled up in front of their house, and Pak Gofar got out.

"How are you, Pak," Kadirun asked.

"My children want to take a trip, Kang. To Kartini Beach in Jepara. Usually you drive them, right? Are you still sick?"

"Feeling better, Pak," replied Kadirun, a little sheepishly.

"See, little Dali only wants to go if you're driving. He feels more comfortable if you're at the wheel. But if you're still unwell, don't force yourself, Kang."

Little Dali, one of Pak Gofar's children, felt very close to Kadirun. So when Pak Gofar and his family arrived at Kadirun's house, Dali went straight in and climbed onto Kadirun's lap.

Isma, who was the same age as Dali, looked at the boss' son jealously.

"I'm all right now, Pak," Kadirun replied, finally. "Your children would be very unhappy if the trip was canceled."

"Well, we'll come back after they've seen the sunset. They like sunsets very much, Kang. Come on -- if it is all right with you, let's leave now."

And off they went.

* * *

It was 9:08 p.m. by the clock on the wall.

Maemunah began to worry. Kadirun should have come home by 8 p.m. at the latest. A drive from Jepara to Kudus normally took only an hour. It was now past nine and he was not home.

Could it be that her husband's earlier superstitions were true? Had they come true? She was filled with dread.

Maemunah was now sorry that she had scolded him. Why did she doubt her husband's fear? Why did she ignore his beliefs?

It grew later and later, and Maemunah began to feel restless and angry.

It was 9:30 p.m. when the silver-white Kijang pulled up in front of the house.

Maemunah breathed a great big sigh of relief as Kadirun got out, safe and sound.

He turned to open the rear door of the car and took out several packages. Then the car turned around and left.

Maemunah welcomed him in front of the house and helped him with the parcels.

"What are these, Kang?" she asked, surprised. "And why so late, Kang?"

"The children wanted to go to the Honocoroko fishing pier. Then we went to the supermarket. Pak Gofar thought I got bored working for him, so he bought us all these things. Can you guess what they are?"

Maemunah shook her head.

"Clothes for the children. Daily necessities. And Rp 500,000."

Maemunah's eyes filled with tears as unbound happiness welled up inside her.

Kudus, December 2004

Translated by Lie Hua