Page 2 of A is for Ahool

Somewhere behind me, the loudspeaker announced the arrival of a flight from Jakarta. I gave my mother one more tight smile and hustled over to security. Once I was past the scanner, the security agent peeked in the paper bag before handing it back to me. I was pretty sure I knew what it was.

I looked back at my family. My father was off the phone, standing beside my frowning mother. My two brothers stood off to the side, trying to look cool the way all teenagers did. I waved before continuing to the gate.

The plane was already boarding, only the tail end of economy left at the gate. The line moved quickly and I boarded the packed airplane just before the flight attendant closed the door.

A choir of crying babies, loud conversations, and a worrying amount of coughing filled the cramped cabin. I found myself almost missing the mask requirements of the Covid era, as I squeezed into the middle seat between a coughing old man and a woman with a screaming infant. I gave them both a pained smile and put on my seatbelt, clutching my knapsack in my lap until the flight attendant finished her safety talk and did a final walk-through.

“Please put your bag in the overhead compartment or under the seat in front of you,” she said, pausing to give me a fixed smile.

I nodded and tucked my knapsack under the seat. As I sat back in the chair, I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. No matter how many flights I had taken, it never got any easier. The queasiness of take off as my mind and body disagreed, and then the gut-wrenching terror any time my eyes wandered to the tiny windows.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. Deep breath in, hold, and let it out slowly. I could do this. It was only an hour and a half. Deep breath in…and out. This was a chance of a lifetime, and a little fear was not going to stand in my way.

As the plane began to taxi down the runway, I shoved my shaking hands under my thighs. Breathe. In and out. Think of the jungle. Think of your work.

My stomach heaved as gravity pulled me deeper into my seat. Focus on something else. Sweat gathered on the back of my neck, sticking the thin fabric of my scarf to my damp skin. My head throbbed.

Seed, germination, growth, reproduction, pollination, and seed spreading. I inhaled shakily and repeated the lifecycle.

Seed, germination, growth, reproduction, pollination, and seed spreading. Somewhere in the untouched jungle near Mount Halimun, there was a Crimson Sun Lily. And I was going to find it.

∞∞∞

Muram

I watched the small group of hikers through narrowed eyes. They were stomping through the underbrush like rhinos. Loud, braying laughs echoed through the jungle as they trampled the plants along the edges of the trail.

I tightened my grip on the tree limb before climbing higher into the canopy. I tucked my wings in close to my back to weave between the close branches. When my head cleared the canopy, I finally felt like I could take a deep breath.

More and more humans came every year. At one time, it was only the Kasepuhan who walked through the jungle. They knew to respect the world around them. Both seen and unseen. I had no quarrel with the locals. But these outsiders…

I closed my eyes and tipped my head up to the sky, basking in the sun’s warmth. The dry season was far more pleasant than the stifling humidity of the rainy season that kept my thick fur damp for months. I grimaced at the thought. My ears twitched at another burst of laughter from the hikers.

Perhaps I should eat one of them. I glanced in the direction of the noise. Before I could give the idea more thought, I caught the distant sound of an engine. I cocked my head. It had been some time since the nearby village had a visitor. In fact, the last visitor…

I dropped below the canopy and swung across to the next tree. Traveling quickly from tree to tree, I rushed toward the edge of the village. It was probably nothing.

I tried to still the pounding of my heart, the instincts I had smothered for over three years. It was not her. It never was.

I lurched to a stop at the tree line. My claws dug into the branch beneath me as I watched a white truck pause in front of a small bamboo house. The driver, an old man stooped by age, climbed out and turned to look into the cab. A moment later, the passenger door squeaked open and a slight figure stepped into the sunlight.

The brilliant white scarf covering the figure's hair glowed like a beacon, and my breath caught in my chest. It could not be her. Even as I told myself not to hope, the figure turned to face the truck and I caught a glimpse of their face.

I inhaled so sharply that I nearly choked. I stared, leaning forward until I had to wrap my tail around the branch to keep my seat. I thought I had memorized her face. I knew her to be lovely beyond words, but this…

The sunlight kissed her brown skin, highlighting the soft roundness of her face. Her large, dark eyes moved between the small home and the surrounding jungle. I could see the eagerness in her face, her need to start work immediately. I sank deeper into the shadows and her gaze drifted past my hiding place.

I ached to know her. To hear her soft voice, and know she was speaking to me. To have her dark eyes look into my own and see me. In my mind, she was simply Kekasih. Beloved.

An old woman exited the passenger side of the truck, and Kekasih hurried to help her. I watched, unable to look away until my Kekasih disappeared inside the bamboo house. I gave myself a moment to calm down and find my center before I jumped from the branch and flew deeper into the jungle.

For the first time in over a year, I let myself visit my nest. There was little need for the skill of nest building, with so few of us left. There had once been over a dozen breeding pairs on the island. The humans put an end to that when they cleared most of the native jungles. My nest was a relic of a past that would never return.

I flew until the jungle grew too thick to maneuver, and then I swung from branch to branch into a close grouping of old trees. In the center of the group, lay my courting nest. I paused at the entrance.

I began building it nearly four dry seasons ago. I had never given much thought to nests or mating, resigned to solitude and the occasional visit to the local village. And then I saw her.

She had emerged from the thick foliage as if she were a part of it. She wore a loose pale green tunic over close-fitting brown pants and boots. A dark green cloth covered her hair and neck. A light sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and she frowned down at the ground, clearly searching for something.