The figure is still condensed in the minds of all citizens. From day to day, its activities only collect frangipani, drying and selling. Pak Suyasa, it is a shortsight. But there was no doubt that he would arrive at his home just before nightfall.
It has been three days since Mr. Suyasa's footsteps have left no trace on the village roads. There is no way that looks clean. Grass rising in the corner of the house, falling leaves covering the road, petals crying unconscious. Towards morning, the figure of this old man appeared at the end of the village temple. He brought a broom and a filthy white sack. Sweep it from collecting the rest of the bone and bind it with a string of banana stems. That rope he met behind the hut he built after leaving his beloved wife.
Pak Suyasa will start coming to the first house. Her hands were shrewdly dancing and picking up frangipani scars of the weather victims the other day. After that, the mound of garbage and the rest of the sweat will melt in the corner of the resident's house. As usual, Pak Suyasa will leave and continue his activities to try the atmosphere to the second house, the third house, and the subsequent houses until the knee is stiff. Or, until tired in the mind beats a bowl of hearty hot breakfast that he chews deliciously. His body is not strong enough to withstand the blazing sun that mixed with global warming. He will only collect frangipani up to half more villages. Then, stop at a stopover house.
The house is unique. The roof is tufted old coconut leaves. The walls, aged with natural strokes. It is very clear that the walls are strung from young bamboo ordered to bend and overlap each other. The red-brick polished bridges are drawn from times across the village. The porch is solid until now. Someone must spend a few years to create a self-build the house. The person who wrote my balloon song was five, the one who wrote the rainbow song, and the same person who wrote the princess's sweetest song ayu1. The house is so small, one acre site might be enough to make three to four similar houses. Tiny. The house is at least aware of the death of Pak Suyasa who left the mystery for the villagers.
'He picked frangipani in my yard yesterday. Her face is ordinary. ' Said a mother in the middle of the gathering talked about Pak Suyasa.
"I gave her more money. My husband is again paying. ' Another mother replied.
The gathering continued until evening to pick up the sun for her marriage. Very many opinions arise. There are those who met Mr. Suyasa died in the tiger eat, lost in the forest, slipped into the abyss to get wounded intentionally.
'Maybe Pak Suyasa is in his stopover house. Towards dusk, he had greeted me and offered me a glass of water. ' Said a shy mother in the middle of Pak Suyasa's disappearance polemic.
There are only a few people who are indifferent to the suggestion. Others, busy stringing hyperbole for news when watching artist gossip, while shopping at the market, family gatherings and other times.
After a week of no news from Pak Suyasa, the polemic has been broadcasting above national radio. The opposite village is unwilling to interfere in this matter. The most popular cause is Pak Suyasa lost because of witchcraft. They are all busy looking. Not what, just thinking about the possibility of people who have abilities beyond that reason. A thousand names appear, no follow-up.
Meanwhile, several others try to go to Pak Suyasa's stopover house. It is strange, Pak Suyasa is nobody before he lost in the swallow of the earth. Suddenly, it exploded like a bacterium that divides hundreds of times in a matter of minutes. Its popularity is higher than the youtube crack artist. One of the four people happened to be a seasoned veteran of the village. Noble people. Mystery lover. They reached the house at noon. Resting on the verandah and downing a few glasses of water while walking down the house looking for Pak Suyasa's body. Maybe they got into it.
The four boys had gone, the village was getting weird. The four never returned to their homes. The wife of the mantri cried all the while knowing her beloved husband fared like Pak Suyasa. The family of three other people, too, tired of indulging in sadness to various village media. Perhaps they did not expect, the figure that they embraced for days has died. But that's life.
The news of the four followers disappearing back hatching to all the villages in the subdistrict of the area. Subdistrict head who initially only ngantor 3-4 hours to be diligent seasonal. He is busy chatting with his subordinates. About Pak Suyasa and four people who lost witchcraft. At least, that's what all his men say at once. Somehow he formulated the increasingly semraut village development in the lateness of modernization. Or, in the attacks of free sex and contagious diseases of moral degradation. He prefers to spend the day in exchanging rumors that are not clearly buzzing.
Some curious citizens decided to seek Pak Suyasa, and four other missing villagers. This time, they carry traditional weapons such as bamboo spikes, sickles, and long swords. Perhaps they think there is a group of cannibals that inhabit the forest near the Pak Suyasa transit house. Or even in that house? This sudden SAR team moves at dawn. Infiltrate, seek the truth. A boy accidentally joined in. By noon, the boy came home alone because it is still considered a child. It's a kid.
'They all went into the little house. I'm sent home. ' Look at the little boy in his mother's arms while huddling with other mothers.
Bad news hit the village again. The youth group, again, disappeared. Disappeared with a sad leave that somehow is not more than the curiosity of citizens. Invites thousands of other unsolved questions of any logic.
So the villagers agreed to call the people missing in the house. It is very clear, before it disappears, the last trace always leads to the house. The inhabitants became increasingly frantic and had to urge the village head to move. The village head would not want to lose face. He invited all youth and adult men to gather in the village hall on Sunday. The goal is to search. Should, the village head think it would not be possible this whole army 'including himself - would be lost. Too much. Such a large army moves like a colony of ants looking for a loaf of bread that falls resignedly to the ground. The stopover house was in front of their eyes. One by one people went into the house. They came in without a trace of doubt had been brainwashed by the leader, the traditional way of yawning again.
To my surprise the Camat heard a village chief and all his youth disappeared. Affected by witchcraft, that's what he thinks. Immediately he told his private driver to prepare the car and immediately reported to the Regent in his area. Do not want to take the trouble, the regent did not hesitate to report to the governor of the prihal witches who troubled the people. The reason, residents of one district have forgotten what they are in the shift of God to the world. Everyone was busy questioning what, why, how and where. No mind to work, no mind for school, no thought to do positive activities. Development declines, garbage builds up, unemployment spreads like an influenza virus. The regent was confused, a relief company was deployed to the site, while reports of the disappearance of a sub-district in Pak Suyasa had reached the hands of the Bupati. Sleep is now a treasure for the unfortunate Bupati.
Soldiers of districts as a whole do not bring maximum results. Everything is lost without any dust. Regent added confused with the greatness of a magician who can defeat armed troops full armed. The governor acted quickly by holding a plenary meeting. Almost all the regents gave similar complaints from their people. Poor poor bupati. Some did not have time to remove the zero digit from the people's tax and keep in the pocket meetings. Some other, lost moments to find young leaves for chewable favors.
New evidence found. A stopover house is thought to be the residence of the witchcraft. Even reliable sources wrote all the missing people in the house. How could such a small house accommodate dozens of missing people without trace?
In short, the central government has begun to receive reports of witchcraft and the loss of the population and Pak Suyasa. The team from the state intelligence moved to the location. The mission of installing CCTV is given. The mission was planned long ago.
'Just to install. And go!' command the chief of Intelligence to his best men.
The two men followed the place where they were going. The streets are dirty, there is not a resident encountered. Garbage-covered ground is knee-deep. The smell of dried frangipani piercing the nose flew the soul. Head of BIN (State Intelligence Agency) sat anxiously awaiting his trust boys. Shoots in ulampun love arrive. The two men arrived safely. No injuries, no injuries. It's just that many mosaics are forgotten by them. At least, they are not dying.
Very little information can be drawn from two state intelligence survivors. BIN did not know why they survived, and dozens of other intelligence did not return after their mission examined the house. Is the magician not at home? Are some people not included in the criteria? I do not know. BIN surrendered and reported to the ranks of the cabinet except the president who was always busy every day. Every time. At least, it was a brief memo at his door.
The House of Representatives held a plenary meeting to discuss this matter. A whole week of meetings in the title, the media covered the post-diminishing post-lives of this small population significantly. All disappeared at the stopover house. Wear santet? At least it's thought that try to support the majority. The meeting came to an astonishing conclusion. To maintain the stability of the country, it will be in the form of witchcraft legislation. Completely controversial. At least the sentence in the chapter must be very tough and firm. The undefined are now trying to be interpreted, like humans trying to explain God in a series of lyrical sentence notes.
Experts try to test the laws of witchcraft irrespective of the ever-decreasing population. The roads to the village of Pak Suyasa will be very crowded at certain hours. Groups of residents of various vehicles passed by. No coming back, no one. Though the village is the most remote village, like a dead-end alley in the middle semraut capital. CCTV shows very many people entering the house. They are queuing to cure the curiosity that has penetrated the boundaries of reality in the brain. It is unclear whether CCTV is lying, but there is not a single dust out of the small stopover house. The house was empty, even. Can be seen from the bamboo wall cavity that seems made in a hurry. The house will accommodate the people of one country. Does the house have a secret passage? Where are the people who have entered the house? Is there somewhere behind the porous bamboo wall? I have no idea. The only visible sea and deep cliffs. The house is located on a cliff that hit the sea with a fierce look of rice fields around the old house.
The clock is showing lunch time. The President quit his marriage. A stuffy stuffy room. How confused he is because all his staff is not there. None. The number of trusted people is not active. Be out of reach. He stepped outside the palace specially made for him. The House of Representatives was about to go. Surprised the president found an empty road, a lonely atmosphere, and conditions so calm. Very opposite of a normal day. Accelerated step up at the House of Representatives. He found a letter addressed to him. The letter stated that all members of the House of Representatives conducted a comparative study to a village on the outskirts of the country. Very far. He knows the village is very beautiful, beautiful and famous throughout the universe. Iapun understand the code of his men who intend plesiran. Maybe a hobby.
For two hours the president sat idly in front of the empty House of Representatives. Waiting for man to greet him. Reversed from the previous days. No messages and impressions from the people who usually scramble to protect himself and his ties rat. The president was stunned and said to himself.
'How stupid am I. How could this be true, I must be dreaming. ' Immediately he took a little cheek skin with long nails that had not been cut by his men.
He grabs and pinched his cheek. Then he shouted loudly in the deserted country.