Berti Nurul Khajati received her undergraduate degree in English language studies from the Muhammadiyah University in Purworejo. In 2021, she received her master’s degree in Indonesian language studies from the Professor Dr. Hamka University in Jakarta. Khajati lives in Bekasi, West Java, where she teaches at Setia Asih 06, an elementary school in Tarumajaya, West Java. Collaborating with her colleagues, she published two children’s books, Aku Anak Laut [I Am a Sea Boy] (Rose Book, 2019) and Mencari Harta Karun [Treasure Hunting] (Rumah Imaji, 2022). Her articles have been published in academic journals, yet writing her first short story for Dalang Publishing posed a new challenge, as it was the first time she had to write without using English loanwords.

Berti Nurul Khajati: bertikhajati2@gmail.com.

 

 

Rubini dan Ibu Ratu

 

“Dini hari, tanggal 6 Maret 1942, Purworejo diserang oleh satuan Isoroku Yamamoto. Pasukan Jepang ini bergerak dari arah Yogyakarta. Purworejo yang masih dikuasai oleh Belanda dengan tentara KNIL-nya sempat melancarkan perlawanan sengit di wilayah tenggara Kota Purworejo. Namun, pasukan Jepang mampu memadamkan perlawanan itu sehingga pada pukul sebelas siang, Kota Purworejo sudah dikuasai.” Tuso mendengarkan siaran radio sambil berjongkok di depan tungku. Sebilah arit berkilat-kilat terselip di dinding berkilau memantulkan sinar api tungku ke wajah Tuso.

Siaran radio masih berlangsung. Gawat! Jepang sudah masuk Purworejo, bisik hatinya. Dia melirik ke arah istrinya. Dada Tuso berdegup kencang mengingat perintah Pak Lurah untuk memimpin perlawanan jika tentara Jepang menyerang.

Rubini tengah mondar-mandir menyiapkan nasi liwet dan daun singkong berkuah santan. Dia menaruh piring dan mangkuk di atas meja kayu sambil bersenandung lirih. Padi di sawah mereka sudah menguning. Beberapa hari lagi mereka panen.

Dor! Dor! Dor! Tiba-tiba terdengar suara tembakan. Tuso dan Rubini saling pandang.

Dengan sigap, Tuso meraih arit yang terselip di dinding dan menarik tangan Rubini. “Cepat keluar! Bersembunyilah di sawah! Merunduk di antara batang-batang padi!”

“Kang Tuso mau ke mana?” Rubini berteriak gemetar.

“Jangan khawatirkan aku! Cepat sembunyi sebelum mereka datang!”

Rubini menyibak batang-batang padi yang dipenuhi oleh bulir-bulir yang membulat. Padi-padi sudah saatnya dipanen. Namun tiba-tiba Desa Clapar, desa terpencil di atas bukit dekat Purworejo itu, menjadi medan pertempuran antara tentara Jepang dan Belanda.

Rubini tetap bertahan di antara batang-batang padi yang tumbuh subur dengan bulir-bulir gabahnya yang tajam menusuk kulit. Rasa gatal bercampur perih membuat Rubini tidak betah, tetapi untuk keluar dari tempat persembunyiannya pun dia tidak punya keberanian.

Matahari sore sudah waktunya terbenam. Warna merah lembayung menyemburat di ufuk barat, seakan melengkapi ceceran darah dari tubuh-tubuh yang bergelimpangan di sepanjang jalan yang membelah desa. Dengan kepala terunduk, Rubini mengintip dari kerimbunan batang padi. Letusan bedil masih terdengar sesekali, sebelum akhirnya sunyi menguasai malam yang gelap-gulita karena tidak seorang pun menyalakan pelita. Dengan tubuh penuh goresan luka, Rubini mengangkat kakinya yang lama terbenam di lumpur sawah dengan susah-payah. Sebagian lumpur mengering di betisnya.

Dari tempat persembunyiannya, Rubini melihat tentara Jepang menggelandang beberapa pemuda desa dengan tangan terikat ke belakang dan meninggalkan tubuh-tubuh meregang nyawa itu begitu saja. Pembantaian oleh tentara Jepang, dengan cara menembaki para lelaki desa yang tidak memiliki senjata, telah usai. Dengan cepat, mereka berderap mengikuti perintah pemimpinnya ke luar dari Clapar.

Para perempuan mulai berani keluar dari persembunyiannya dan suasana semakin gaduh. Terhuyung Rubini menghampiri tubuh-tubuh yang tergeletak bersimbah darah. Tubuh-tubuh penuh luka masih bergelimpangan. Erangan demi erangan semakin menghilang seiring suara mengorok yang menandakan lepasnya nyawa dari badan. Desah napas yang memburu berganti dengan cekaman kesunyian yang menakutkan. Desa Clapar telah berubah menjadi desa mati. Para lelaki yang semula menghidupkan desa dan mengolah sawah telah dibantai oleh serangan tiba-tiba. Mereka hanya membawa senjata berupa arit yang biasanya digunakan sebagai alat untuk memanen padi.

Perempuan-perempuan Desa Clapar tidak sempat lagi menangisi kematian suami dan anak lelaki mereka. Mereka harus segera menggali kuburan agar tubuh-tubuh tidak bernyawa itu dapat dimakamkan malam itu juga. Suara jangkrik berselingan dengan suara linggis dan pacul yang berbenturan dengan tanah dan bebatuan merindingkan bulu roma Rubini.

Di pinggir jalan setapak yang ditumbuhi rerumputan, tubuh Tuso tergeletak bersimbah darah. Bau anyirnya menusuk hidung Rubini. Dia bersimpuh sambil memegang dadanya yang tiba-tiba sesak. Orang yang dicintainya meninggal dengan cara mengenaskan. Sama seperti perempuan-perempuan lain, Rubini menguburkan Tuso dengan pakaian yang melekat di badan. Tidak ada waktu lagi untuk mencari kain kafan. Tanah yang digali pun tidak terlalu dalam. Keterbatasan tenaga perempuan membuat kuburan-kuburan itu lebih mirip kuburan kucing daripada kuburan manusia.

Usai menguburkan jasad suaminya, Rubini bergegas membungkus pakaian seadanya. Para perempuan memutuskan untuk segera keluar dari Desa Clapar agar terhindar dari serangan tentara esok hari. Mereka meninggalkan Desa Clapar dengan berbekal buntalan sekadarnya, menyebar ke mana saja.

Rubini menuju Bapangsari dengan harapan bertemu sepupunya yang tinggal di desa atas perbukitan Menoreh itu. Gonggongan anjing di kejauhan dan rasa dingin yang menggigit kulit membuat hati Rubini berdesir. Bulan sabit di langit tidak cukup menerangi langkahnya.

Jalan menuju Bapangsari lengang ketika Rubini keluar dari Desa Clapar. Dia berjalan semalaman. Tiba-tiba, hari sudah berganti. Terik matahari yang mulai tajam bersama debu yang ditebarkan angin menyengat kulit Rubini. Perjalanan yang ditempuhnya sudah cukup jauh dari Clapar. Kakinya pegal dan perutnya lapar. Dengan gontai, dia melangkah menuju pohon asam untuk melepaskan lelahnya. Ada selokan kecil berair bening tidak jauh dari pohon. Rubini segera ke sana, menciduk airnya dengan tangan, lalu meneguknya. Segarnya air terasa membasahi kerongkongannya. Rubini kembali ke pohon asam dan bersandar pada batangnya. Angin semilir yang bertiup membuatnya mengantuk.

“He, kamu! Di mana laki-lakimu sembunyi?”

Rubini tersentak membuka matanya. Di depannya berdiri tiga tentara Jepang bersenjatakan bedil. Dia menolehkan kepala ke segala arah, namun tidak seorang pun tampak kecuali ketiga tentara yang berwajah garang. Terhuyung Rubini berusaha bangkit.

“Saya tidak punya laki-laki, Tuan. Saya janda.”

“Janda, he? Kau orang punya laki-laki melawan kami!” Wajah tentara itu terlihat kejam.

Matanya melotot dan urat-urat lehernya tampak seperti kawat-kawat yang menjulur tidak beraturan.

“Tidak, Tuan. Suami saya mati karena sakit.”

“He! Kamu orang bohong, ya? Itu apa kaubawa?” Bayonet yang tergantung di pinggangnya diangkat dan diarahkan pada buntalan yang tergeletak di tanah.

“Ini buntalan baju, Tuan. Saya mengunjungi sepupu.”

“Bohong!” Tentara itu mengangkat bedilnya. Diacungkannya senjata itu tepat di dada Rubini.

Rubini terkejut; keringat dingin mengalir di sekujur tubuhnya. Dengan tangan gemetar, dia mencari pegangan pada batang pohon tempatnya istirahat.

Seorang tentara yang sudah agak tua berbicara dalam bahasa mereka. Tampaknya teman-temannya dapat menerima omongan tentara tua itu. Mereka melanjutkan perjalanannya dengan langkah cepat.

Dengan lutut yang masih lemas, Rubini meraih buntalan pakaiannya dan melanjutkan perjalanan ke Bapangsari.

***

Segera setelah berhasil menguasai Purworejo, Jepang membangun benteng pertahanannya. Benteng besar itu harus dikerjakan siang malam karena akan digunakan sebagai tempat untuk mengintai keberadaan KNIL.

Dari Desa Bapangsari, yang letaknya tinggi di atas perbukitan Menoreh di antara Kota Yogyakarta dan Purworejo, garis pantai dari Jatimalang sampai Congot memang jelas terlihat. Namun di sekitar bukit itu, ternyata masih banyak rumah-rumah penduduk yang mengganggu jalannya pembangunan benteng Jepang. Jepang memerintahkan Pak Lurah untuk merobohkan rumah-rumah itu.

***

Hari beranjak sore ketika Rubini tiba di Bapangsari. Langkahnya sudah terseok-seok. Tumitnya yang pecah-pecah dengan beberapa luka lecet di jari-jarinya membuat Rubini meringis menahan pedih. Dia berhenti di dekat batu besar. Di sekelilingnya ada orang-orang yang bekerja. Mereka menggunakan pacul dan linggis untuk menggali tanah yang keras berbatu. Bentuk galian itu memanjang dari ujung selatan ke utara. Rubini melihat bekas rumah-rumah yang dibongkar. Di ujung jalan Desa Bapangsari yang dulu sering dilalui ketika berkunjung ke rumah Karmin, sepupunya, dia melihat gundukan tanah bekas galian. Rumah sepupunya telah dibongkar dan digali menjadi parit juga.

Wajah Rubini pucat-pasi. Harapan untuk bertemu sepupunya hilang sudah. Hatinya ngeri dengan kenyataan di depan matanya. Sepupunya sudah kehilangan rumah. Rubini memandangi kesibukan yang terjadi di depan matanya. Dengan perasaan bingung, dia menolehkan kepalanya ke kanan-kiri. Ada di mana Karmin sekarang, batin Rubini.

Tiba-tiba, seorang pekerja yang memanggul pacul melewati Rubini, berhenti dalam perjalanannya. Dia membalikkan badan dan, setelah menatapnya dengan cermat, datang menghampiri Rubini.

Mulut Rubini terbuka dan berteriak, “Karmin!” Hati Rubini membuncah. Matanya bersinar.
Karmin dengan cepat meletakkan jari telunjuk di bibirnya. “Kamu harus segera pergi dari sini!” Matanya yang cekung memancarkan kekhawatiran. Dia memegang bahu Rubini dan mendorongnya.

“Tapi …,” Rubini berusaha bertahan. Dipegangnya lengan Karmin. Dia berkeras untuk tinggal.

Karmin melanjutkan ucapannya dengan berbisik, “Bapangsari sudah dikuasai Jepang.

Kami laki-laki di desa ini harus bekerja menggali parit. Kamu harus pergi dari sini! Kalau ketahuan Jepang, kamu bisa celaka. Cepat pergi!” Karmin berbisik.

“Tolonglah saya, Kang.” Rubini memohon dengan mata berkaca-kaca. “Saya sekarang sebatang kara. Suamiku sudah dibunuh Jepang. Kamulah satu-satunya pelindungku.” Suaranya berbisik parau. Hatinya hancur melihat rumah sepupunya yang sudah dibongkar.

Tiba-tiba, dari balik timbunan tanah bekas galian, muncul seorang laki-laki bertubuh pendek. Dengan topi yang menutupi tengkuk, dia meneriakkan perintah kepada para pekerja dengan logat yang terdengar aneh.

Seketika Karmin merunduk dan mendorong Rubini dengan paksa. “Cepatlah pergi! Jika tertangkap, kamu akan dijadikan jugun ianfu.”

“Jugun ianfu? Apa itu?” Sergah Rubini.

“Melayani tentara Jepang seperti kamu melayani suamimu,” balas Karmin cepat. Hatinya kecut mengingat beberapa perempuan desa yang sudah menjadi jugun ianfu. Dia tidak rela Rubini menjadi bagian dari mereka. Ditatapnya wajah Rubini yang tiba-tiba memerah, lalu memucat.

Rubini pasrah saja ketika Karmin mengajaknya menjauh dari tempat itu.

Karmin menarik Rubini yang sudah kepayahan berjalan. Mereka menyusuri pematang sawah supaya terlihat seperti petani dan menjauh dari Bapangsari ke arah barat. Kira-kira dua jam berjalan, mereka menemukan sebuah dangau di tengah sawah. Setelah yakin keadaan aman, Karmin mengajak Rubini berhenti. Hatinya iba melihat keadaan Rubini. Namun jika membiarkannya tetap di Bapangsari, akan sangat berbahaya.

“Kamu akan kuantarkan ke Karangbolong. Ingat Yu Srini? Dia adalah bibi kita.” Karmin berbicara dengan sungguh-sungguh. Dia membenamkan tangannya ke dalam lumpur sawah. Lalu dengan sekali sentakan, dia menariknya. Seekor belut gemuk tertangkap olehnya. Karmin membuang isi perut dan mencuci belut itu dengan air sawah.

Sinar matahari sudah meredup ketika Rubini menyantap belut bakar.

“Saya menurut nasihatmu saja, Kang. Ngeri hatiku mendengar pekerjaan jugun ianfu.” Wajah Rubini bergidik membayangkan pekerjaan yang tidak pernah terpikirkan olehnya.

Dalam kegelapan yang membungkus dangau, Karmin melindungi sepupunya. Dia berjaga semalaman agar Rubini dapat beristirahat. Dilihatnya Rubini yang tertidur pulas dan mendengkur halus dengan penuh iba.

Ketika bangun keesokan harinya, Rubini merasa lebih kuat. Wajahnya lebih segar meskipun masih ada sisa-sisa kelelahan. Pegal di kakinya jauh berkurang. Mereka berjalan menyusuri kebun-kebun penduduk sehingga dapat memetik kacang panjang dan menggali sedikit ubi untuk mengisi perut. Ketika malam tiba, mereka menumpang di dangau petani di tengah ladang.

Dua hari satu malam mereka berjalan, tibalah di rumah Yu Srini. Di depan rumah kayu berdinding gedek, Karmin mengetuk pintu. “Kulonuwun ⸺ Permisi.”

“Monggo ⸺ Silakan masuk.” Perempuan berambut putih yang digelung sederhana membukakan pintu. Wajahnya sejenak menegang,; lalu dia berteriak, “Karmin?” Senyumnya mengembang di bibir tuanya yang keriput.

Karmin menyalami bibinya. Jantungnya berdebar. Hatinya bahagia melihat bibinya sehat. Tebersit rasa khawatir kalau bibinya berkeberatan menampung Rubini di rumahnya.

Yu Srini mengalihkan pandangannya kepada Rubini. “Lho! Ini Rubini, kan? Aku masih ingat. Apa yang terjadi?” Yu Srini tidak dapat menahan hasratnya untuk bertanya.

Rubini tidak menjawab. Dia malah menggenggam tangan Yu Srini erat-erat lalu menubruk tubuh renta itu dan menangis di pundaknya.

Yu Srini mengelus punggung Rubini. “Kita bicara di dalam, ya.” Dia menggandeng tangan Rubini dan menyuruhnya duduk di bangku kayu.

Karmin mengikuti di belakang mereka. Sambil menikmati air putih dan singkong rebus, Karmin bercerita. “Rumahku di Bapangsari telah dihancurkan. Tempatnya digunakan untuk membangun benteng Jepang. Aku mau menitipkan Rubini di sini. Aku tidak mampu melindunginya dari Jepang karena aku pun harus bekerja untuk mereka sebagai romusha ⸺ pekerja paksa yang tidak dibayar.”

Yu Srini terhenyak. “Terus kamu tinggal di mana?”

Karmin menukas, “Aku bisa tinggal di mana saja. Tapi Rubini tidak. Dia butuh perlindungan. Suaminya dibunuh oleh Jepang sehingga tidak mungkin baginya untuk kembali ke Clapar.”

Yu Srini menyimak cerita Karmin dengan wajah sendu. Matanya memerah. Dia mengusap air matanya dengan ujung kebaya.

Sementara, Rubini hanya mampu menunduk terisak-isak.

***

Yu Srini tinggal sendiri di rumah peninggalan suaminya. Perempuan berusia enam puluh tahun itu berjualan makanan di depan rumahnya. “Terkadang orang yang mau pergi ke pantai belum sempat sarapan,” kata Yu Srini sambil menata dagangannya di atas pelupuh. Meja pendek yang terbuat dari bambu itu, berlubang di bagian tengah agak ke belakang agar dia dapat duduk sambil melayani pembeli. Beberapa lelaki datang dan duduk di dingklik di depan pelupuh. Mereka memesan nasi dan lauk-pauk sambil duduk di kursi bambu pendek itu.

Rubini segera menyesuaikan diri dengan kehidupan Yu Srini. Dia membantu memasak nasi dan lauk-pauk di dapur dan membawanya keluar.

Dari tempat Yu Srini berjualan, Rubini dapat melihat pantai berbatu karang di kejauhan. Ketika pembeli sudah sepi, dia sering mengamati kegiatan di pantai itu. Dilihatnya lelaki-lelaki Karangbolong merayapi tangga-tangga bambu yang dipasang di ketinggian batu karang. Tangga-tangga itu dibuat untuk memanen sarang burung walet yang dipercayai sebagai obat beraneka penyakit.

Burung-burung yang membuat sarang dengan air liurnya itu menjadi tumpuan penduduk Karangbolong. Pemanen harus bergelantungan di tangga-tangga bambu. Gemuruh ombak memecah karang disertai cipratan air dan tiupan angin kencang menjadi tantangan berat. Selain itu, bertarung dengan sambaran-sambaran burung walet yang berusaha mempertahankan sarangnya juga sering membuat perhatian mereka terpecah. Jika sudah begitu keadaannya, kemungkinan untuk jatuh menjadi semakin besar. Barang yang dipanen dengan taruhan nyawa itu harganya sangat mahal. Pembelinya, kebanyakan para pedagang keturunan Cina yang berasal dari luar kota, seperti Purworejo dan Yogyakarta. Mereka akan meramu sarang burung walet menjadi obat untuk menyembuhkan dan memulihkan tenaga orang yang sakit parah dan memperbanyak air susu perempuan yang baru melahirkan.

Dengan menjual hasil panennya, laki-laki Karangbolong mencukupi kehidupan keluarganya.

***

Penanggalan di dinding telah menunjukkan bulan Agustus 1945. Wulan Kesanga, bulan kesembilan dalam penanggalan Jawa, sudah tiba. Saatnya untuk panen sarang burung walet.

Para lelaki sudah siap dengan peralatannya. Tali-tali berukuran besar digulung dan disampirkan di atas bahu. Tali-tali itu akan digunakan untuk menggantung keranjang-keranjang bambu tempat menampung hasil panen. Mereka dibantu oleh istri-istri mereka. Perempuan-perempuan itu melangkahkan kaki dan mengangkut keranjang-keranjang itu di atas kepala mereka.

Rubini merasakan detak jantungnya berpacu melihat laki-laki Karangbolong merambati tangga bambu yang digunakan untuk memanen sarang burung walet. Merayap di kecuraman tebing karang tempat burung walet bersarang, mereka tampak seperti semut yang merangkak-rangkak di dinding raksasa. Oh, alangkah kecilnya nyawa mereka, batin Rubini sambil memandang ombak yang datang silih berganti. Gulungan ombak itu mengingatkan Rubini pada Ibu Ratu, panggilan untuk Nyi Roro Kidul, yang dipercaya oleh penduduk Karangbolong sebagai pelindung mereka. Mereka melaksanakan upacara sedekah laut sebagai ungkapan rasa terima kasih kepada Ibu Ratu setiap musim panen sarang burung walet tiba.

Matahari sore menyisakan warna jingga. Bayang-bayang para pemanjat memanjang di hamparan pasir pantai. Satu per satu mereka menuruni tangga-tangga bambu, lalu berjalan beriringan menuju desa. Panen sarang burung walet hari itu usai sudah. Bersama perempuan-perempuan yang lain, Rubini berlari kecil membawa ceret dan cangkir menyambut para lelaki yang pulang dengan selamat.

***

Yu Srini menyetel radio tua peninggalan suaminya. “Jepang menyerah tanpa syarat kepada Amerika setelah Kota Hiroshima dan Nagasaki dibom atom. Kesempatan ini digunakan oleh para pemuda untuk mewujudkan cita-cita perjuangannya. Hari ini, 17 Agustus 1945, Sukarno – Hatta telah menyatakan kemerdekaan Indonesia dan bendera merah putih berkibar di Jakarta.” Siaran radio berkumandang ke segala penjuru. Terdengar sorak-sorai orang berkumpul di pantai.

Rubini menyusul. Dia ikut larut dalam kegembiraan orang ramai. Sudah tiga tahun Rubini menumpang di rumah Yu Srini. Selain merayakan kemerdekaan Republik Indonesia, hari ini Rubini juga akan turut melaksanakan sedekah laut yang ketiga kalinya. Dia sibuk membantu bibinya menyiapkan bunga melati, mawar, dan kantil untuk sesaji. Tangannya sudah cekatan menata bunga-bunga itu di atas nampan beralaskan kain putih. Terbayang olehnya tokoh Adipati Surti, utusan Pangeran Kartasura, dalam dongeng Karangbolong. Dia memetik sarang burung walet yang akan digunakan untuk menyembuhkan permaisuri Kesultanan Kartasura yang sedang sakit keras. Tiba-tiba, wajah Tuso terbayang di pelupuk mata Rubini. Aku masih mencintaimu, Kang.

Malam itu bulan purnama. Rubini bersiap dengan pakaiannya yang terbaik, berdandan agar kelihatan pantas saat menghadap Ibu Ratu. Dibawanya seperangkat sesaji yang berisi bunga-bunga. Rubini bersandar pada bongkahan batu karang di tepi pantai. Matanya menatap ke laut lepas. Perjalanan hidupnya penuh liku. Dia kehilangan suami karena kekejaman Jepang. Usahanya mencari perlindungan ke Bapangsari tidak berhasil. Akhirnya bibinya yang sudah renta bersedia menampungnya di Karangbolong. Inilah yang terbaik bagi Rubini. Tekadnya sudah bulat. Angin pantai yang bertiup ke tengah laut mendorong Rubini melangkah semakin jauh ke tengah laut. Tidak ada yang dapat menghalanginya. Rubini, perempuan sederhana dari Desa Clapar, memasrahkan dirinya menjadi pengabdi Ibu Ratu.

Ketika air laut mencapai pahanya, Rubini melepaskan sesaji. Dilihatnya kuntum-kuntum bunga itu mengambang beberapa saat sampai hilang terbawa ombak ke tengah laut. Dia menarik napas dalam-dalam untuk memenuhi paru-parunya dengan udara berbau garam itu.

 

*****

In 2005, Umar Thamrin received a Fulbright grant and a Catherine and William L. Magistretti Graduate Fellowship for his graduate studies in the United States. He completed his Ph.D. in Southeast Asian Studies with the designated emphasis in Critical Theory at the University of California, Berkeley, in 2016. Before returning to Indonesia in 2017, he received a one-year appointment as a research and teaching fellow at the University of Oregon.

Back in his home country, Umar became disturbed by several social conditions he encountered there, and is saddened that the common people have remained marginalized while society ignores the lessons of its history. These conditions have prompted him to think, to remember, and to write. He is currently teaching linguistics at Alauddin State Islamic University.

Umar Thamrin: umar2x.umar@gmail.com

 

The Sacrifice

 

“At dawn, on March 6, 1942, Isoroku Yamamoto’s Japanese troops attacked the Dutch territory in the southeastern region of Purworejo City from the direction of Yogyakarta, Java. The Dutch Royal Netherlands East Indies Army (KNIL) troops staged a fierce resistance, but the Japanese unit quelled the opposition, and by eleven o’clock that morning, they controlled the entire city.”

In Clapar, a remote village on a hillside near Purworejo, Tuso crouched in front of a clay wood stove, listening to the radio. The glint of a sharp sickle, tucked into the woven bamboo wall, reflected the glow of the stove’s fire onto his face.

Glancing at his wife, Rubini, Tuso’s heartbeat raced. Cripes! The Japs have entered Purworejo! He remembered the village chief ordering him to lead the villagers to fight the Japanese if they attacked.

Rubini was busily preparing a soup of cassava leaves and coconut milk. Nasi liwet, a rice dish cooked the traditional way, simmered in a heavy claypot filled with just enough water to turn the hard grains into soft fluffy rice atop a brown crust.

Humming softly, she placed the plates and bowls on the wooden table. The rice in their field had turned yellow. In a few days, they could harvest.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Gunshots pierced the air.

Tuso grabbed the sickle and pulled Rubini by the hand. “Hurry! Hide in the rice field! Duck down between the rice stalks and stay there!”

Rubini screamed, “Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about me! Hurry! Go hide before they get here!”

Rubini ran to the rice field and parted the stalks, heavy with plump grains. The paddies were ready for harvest. But, alas, Clapar had become a battlefield of the Japanese and Dutch troops. The sharp grains pricked her skin, making her itchy and sore. But Rubini did not dare leave her hiding place, amid the intermittent gunshots.

The late afternoon sun shimmered crimson on the western horizon as if to mirror the bloodied bodies lying along the road that divided the village.

Still bent, Rubini peeked through the thick wall of rice stalks. From her hiding place, she saw Japanese soldiers herding several village youths, their hands tied behind their backs. The wounded were left to die on the street. Following their commander’s order, the invading unit now quickly left the village. The Japanese-led massacre of the unarmed village men was over.

Late afternoon faded into night with a blanket of silence and darkness. No one dared to light a lamp. Covered with scratches and dried mud on her calves, Rubini struggled to pull her feet out of the wet soil of the rice field.

As the women ventured out from their hiding places, the village filled with their wailing. Rubini staggered toward the bloody bodies strewn about the village, listening as moan after moan ended with snorts of released souls and an eerie, stifling silence.

In the span of a few hours, Clapar had become a village of the dead. The men who had founded the village and cultivated the rice fields, armed only with the sickles they used for harvesting rice, had been slaughtered.

The women of Clapar had no time to grieve over their husbands and sons. They had to quickly bury the bodies before morning’s light. The chirps of crickets mingling with the thumping and clanging of crowbars and hoes biting into soil and stones, terrified Rubini.

On the side of a path overgrown with grass, Rubini found Tuso’s body, covered in blood. She knelt, the rancid smell piercing her nose, and held her heaving chest. The man she loved had died a miserable death. As did the other women, Rubini buried Tuso with the clothes he wore. There was no time to look for a shroud. The women were not strong enough to dig deep. The shallow graves were more fitting for a cat than a human being.

After burying her husband, Rubini rushed home to pack some clothes. The women had decided to leave Clapar immediately to escape a possible military attack the next day. They only carried basic supplies, bundled in their sarongs, and they spread out, without any particular destination in mind.

Rubini decided to head for Bapangsari, a village located on the Menoreh hills between Yogyakarta and Purworejo. She hoped to find her cousin who lived there. The light of the crescent moon was too weak to illuminate her path, and she shivered in the frigid air, as dogs howled in the distance.

The road to Bapangsari was deserted when Rubini left Clapar. She walked all night until, suddenly, morning dawned. Soon, the blazing sun and flying dust stung her skin. Her feet ached, and she was hungry. Rubini dragged herself to a nearby tamarind tree to rest. Near the tree, she spied a small ditch with clear running water, and she rushed to it, gulping down a handful. The cool water refreshed her. Rubini returned to the tamarind tree and sat down, leaning against its trunk. The soft breeze lulled Rubini to sleep.

“Hey, you! Where is your man hiding?”

Rubini jerked awake and opened her eyes. Three ferocious-looking Japanese soldiers, armed with rifles, stood looking down at her. She looked around, but saw no one in sight. Rubini staggered as she stood up. “I don’t have a husband, sir. I am a widow.”

“A widow, huh? Your husband dared to fight us?” The soldier’s eyes bulged from his cruel face. The veins in his neck pulsed like tangled live wires.

“No, sir. My husband died because he was sick.”

“Damn liar! What do you have in there?” The soldier pointed his bayonet at the bundle on the ground.

“That is a bundle of clothes, sir. I’m on my way to visit my cousin.”

“Liar!” The soldier raised his rifle and pointed the gun at Rubini’s chest.

Rubini gasped. Trembling, she groped for a hold on the tree she had rested under.

The oldest among the soldiers said something in Japanese. The other soldiers seemed to agree, and they all left quickly.

Rubini, still shaking, grabbed her bundle of clothes and resumed her journey toward Bapangsari.

***

Immediately after occupying Purworejo, the Japanese started the construction of a big, tall fort in Bapangsari. The around-the-clock operation completed the fort in a very short time. The fort was used to monitor the movement of KNIL soldiers. From Bapangsari, the coastline from Jatimalang Beach to Congot Beach was clearly visible because the Japanese had ordered the village head to destroy the houses that hindered the construction and sightline of the Japanese fort.

***

It was late afternoon when Rubini arrived at Bapangsari. Her heels were cracked and her toes were blistered. Wincing, she shuffled to a nearby boulder. Around her, men were digging up the hard, rocky ground with shovels and crowbars. They were hollowing out a moat that ran south to north. Rubini saw the ruins of the demolished houses. At the end of the road, she took to visit her cousin, she saw a mound of excavated soil. Her cousin’s house had also been demolished and turned into a moat.

Rubini paled, horrified by what she saw. Gone was her hope of meeting up with her cousin. Rubini looked at the bustle around her. Where is my cousin Karmin now?

A worker carrying a hoe passed by Rubini. Suddenly, he stopped and turned around. Peering at her closely, he walked up to her.

Rubini gasped. “Karmin!” she shouted. Her heart swelled with joy and her eyes sparkled.

Karmin quickly put his index finger to his lips. His sunken eyes brimmed with worry. “Shh! You must leave immediately!” He grabbed Rubini by the shoulder and pushed her ahead of him.

Rubini resisted. She held on to Karmin’s arm and insisted on staying.

Karmin whispered, “The Japanese are in control of Bapangsari. All the men in this village have to dig ditches. You must get out of here! If the Japanese catch you, they’ll hurt you! Go! Hurry!”

“Help me, Karmin,” Rubini pleaded with teary eyes. She looked at the ruins of her cousin’s house and whispered hoarsely, “I’m alone now. The Japanese killed my husband. You’re the only one I can ask for help.”

From behind the pile of excavated earth, a short man appeared wearing a flap cap that protected his head and neck from the sun. He shouted orders to the workers with a strange accent.

Karmin crouched and pushed Rubini. “Go! Hurry! If you’re caught, they’ll turn you into a jugun ianfu.”

“Jugun ianfu? What’s that?” Rubini asked, alarmed.

“A ‘comfort woman.’ You’ll be forced to ‘serve’ the Japanese soldiers in the same way you ‘served’ your husband.” Karmin winced, remembering the village women who had been turned into jugun ianfu.”

Horrified, Rubini shuddered.

Karmin stared at Rubini’s flushed face. I can’t let you endure the same fate. He pulled her with him, telling her they had to leave.

Exhausted, Rubini numbly obeyed.

In order to appear like farmers, they walked along the rice fields, heading west. After two hours, they came upon an empty hut in the middle of a rice field. After making sure the hut was safe, Karmin told Rubini she could rest there. He felt sorry for his cousin, but if he let her stay in Bapangsari, it would be too dangerous for her.

“I’ll take you to Karangbolong,” Karmin said. “Remember our aunt, Yu Srini?” Karmin solemnly pushed his hands down into the muddy water of the rice field. When he jerked them up, he held a big flapping eel. Karmin gutted the eel and washed it in the paddy’s irrigation ditch.

Twilight had already begun to set in when Rubini took her first bite of the grilled eel. Thinking about having to work as a jugun ianfu and performing the duties of an occupation she could not imagine existed, Rubini shuddered and said, “I’ll just follow your advice.”

In the darkness that enveloped the hut, Karmin kept watch all night so Rubini could sleep soundly and rest. With pity, he listened to her soft snoring.

Rubini woke in the morning feeling refreshed, although her face still showed traces of tiredness. The soreness in her legs felt more bearable.

She and Karmin walked along agricultural plantations so they could find vegetables like long beans and sweet potatoes to eat. After being on the road for two days and one night, they arrived at Yu Srini’s door.

Karmin knocked on the door of a house with woven bamboo walls and called, “Kulonuwun, excuse me.”

Someone answered, “Monggo — Please, come in.” A woman with white hair put up in a simple bun opened the door. She stiffened for a moment, then exclaimed, “Karmin?” A smile stretched across her wrinkled old lips.

Relieved and happy to find his aunt healthy, Karmin bowed. Bringing his hands together, he took his aunt’s fingertips and brought her hands to his forehead in traditional greeting. Meanwhile he worried that she might not be willing to take in Rubini.

Yu Srini turned to Rubini. “Oh! This is Rubini, right? I still remember ….” She paused but then could not help asking, “What happened to you?”

Rubini did not answer. Instead, she held Yu Srini’s hand tightly. Collapsing against the old woman, Rubini burst out crying on her aunt’s shoulder.

Yu Srini stroked Rubini’s back. “Let’s talk inside,” she said, taking Rubini’s hand to seat her on a wooden bench. Karmin followed behind them.

While enjoying some boiled cassava and a mug of water, Karmin told their story. “My house in Bapangsari has been destroyed. The land was used to build a Japanese fort. I want to leave Rubini here. I can’t protect her from the Japanese because I have to work for them as a romusha — unpaid forced labor – for food and shelter.”

Yu Srini gasped. “Then where do you live now?”

“I can live anywhere,” Karmin replied. “But Rubini can’t. She needs someone to protect her. Her husband was killed by the Japanese, and it’s impossible for her to return to Clapar.”

Yu Srini’s eyes turned red. She wiped her tears with the hem of her kebaya, the long-sleeved blouse worn by native women.

Sobbing, Rubini lowered her head.

***

Yu Srini lived alone in the house she had inherited from her deceased husband. The sixty-year-old woman sold food in front of her house. “Sometimes people who go to the beach don’t have time to eat breakfast,” said Yu Srini, arranging her wares on a short, horseshoe-shaped bamboo table that allowed her to easily serve her customers. Several men took a seat on the short bamboo stools in front of the table. They ordered rice and side dishes.

Rubini quickly adjusted to Yu Srini’s lifestyle. In the kitchen, she helped with cooking the rice and side dishes. Later, she carried the food out.

From in front of the house where Yu Srini operated her food stall, Rubini could see a rocky beach in the distance. When there were no customers, she watched the activity on the beach ⸺ Karangbolong men climbing bamboo ladders set high on the rocks to
harvest swiftlet nests, which were believed to have medicinal properties that cured various diseases.

Built with the birds’ saliva, swiftlet nests were the mainstay of the Karangbolong people’s livelihood. The roar of the waves crashing on the rocks, high winds, and bird attacks from swiftlets defending their nests posed formidable challenges. Distracted, a climber could lose his balance and fall.

The nests that were harvested by risking a man’s life were very expensive. The buyers were mostly Chinese traders from cities such as Purworejo and Yogyakarta. The traders used the nests to concoct medicine to heal and revitalize the sick. The broth made from the birds’ nests was also often used to increase breast milk from new mothers. By selling the swiftlet nests, Karangbolong men could support their families.

***

The wall calendar showed August 1945. It was also Wulan Kesanga, the ninth month on the Javanese calendar. It was the time to harvest the swiftlet nests.

The men stood ready, equipped with their tools. Each carried a coil of large rope draped over their shoulders. The ropes were used to hang bamboo baskets in which the harvest was placed. The men were assisted by their wives, who carried the harvesting baskets on their heads.

Watching the Karangbolong men climb the bamboo ladders, Rubini’s heartbeat quickened. As the men crawled up the steep cliff to reach the swiftlet nests, they looked like ants crawling on a giant wall. Oh, how futile their life is, thought Rubini, watching the waves roll in, one after another.

The waves reminded Rubini of Ibu Ratu, the appellation for Nyi Roro Kidul, the spirit that reigned over the sea and protected the people of Karangbolong. At the beginning of every swiftlet nest harvest season, a sea alms ritual was carried out as an expression of gratitude to Nyi Roro Kidul.

The cliffs glowed orange in the late afternoon sun. The shadows of the climbers stretched across the sandy beach. One by one, they climbed down the bamboo steps, then walked together back towards the village. The swiftlet nest harvest of that day was over. Together with the other women, Rubini, carrying a jug of water and cups, hurried to meet the men who had managed to come home safely.

***

Yu Srini turned on her husband’s old radio. “Japan surrendered unconditionally to America after atomic bombs dropped on the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Our youth has seized this opportunity to realize the purpose of their struggle. Today, on August 17, 1945, Indonesian President Soekarno and Vice President Hatta have proclaimed Indonesia’s independence, and the red and white flag is flying in Jakarta.” The radio broadcasts echoed in all directions. The people gathered on the beach cheered.

Rubini joined the joyful crowd on the beach. It had been three years since she came to live in Yu Srini’s house. After the celebration of Indonesia’s Independence Day, Rubini would perform the sea alms ritual for the third time.

Helping her aunt prepare for the event, Rubini arranged the jasmine, roses, and white champaca flowers on a tray lined with a white cloth. She remembered the Karangbolong fable, where Adipati Surti, envoy to Prince Kartasura, fetched a swiftlet nest to heal the dying empress of the Kartasura sultanate. Suddenly, Tuso’s face flashed before Rubini’s eyes. I still love you.

That night, a full moon lit the sky. Rubini was dressed in her best clothes. She wanted to look proper for Nyi Roro Kidul, the sea goddess. She carried the tray of floral offerings to the beach. Rubini leaned against a boulder on the shore and looked out to sea.

Her life had been full of twists and turns. Japanese cruelty had taken her husband. She had unsuccessfully sought refuge in Bapangsari and now lived with her old aunt in Karangbolong. But this was what was best for her. She had made up her mind.
The coastal wind blowing out to sea enticed Rubini to wade farther out. There was nothing that could stop her.

Rubini, a simple woman from Clapar, gave herself to serve Nyi Roro Kidul. When the seawater reached her thighs, Rubini released her offerings. The flowers floated for a while until the waves carried them away. Taking a deep breath, Rubini filled her lungs with the salty air.

 

*****

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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