Chapter 1 - The Stones

Chapter 1 - The Stones

I heard voices behind me and turn around to see. One of the voices sounded too familiar but it would be impossible to hear that voice I thought. As soon as I turned around I saw the woman about my height and she reminded of my father's mother but only younger. Much younger. The two men were wearing white short sleeves shirt and black pants. Almost like a uniform. I wondered if they were students. They looked younger than the woman. I couldn't see their faces because they were facing the woman who was sitting on the wicker chair.

The house was small and they were sitting in a living room but the room only has very few things. Two chairs, one wicker and one made from wood and one coffee table. There was a bookshelf about 3 feet high. It was filled with books and 2 pictures frames sat on top of it. I didn’t recognize the people in the picture except one could be my grandfather but younger.

Younger? My brain was racking. I could see my grandmother and a picture of my grandfather but they were younger. Am I dead? If I was then what's the point of seeing of all these? I must be dreaming I thought. The three people were talking a little louder. I tried listening closely.

"I called you both here to give you something before you leave to the city tomorrow." The woman is talking to the young men. She then reached to her dress pocket and pulled out two little pouches. They looked like they were made from burlap. I could almost smell it.

"I want you both to take it with you. You don't have to do anything with it, look at it or even think about it." She gave each of the young men a pouch. They took the pouches and stare at them. "All you have to do is take it with you and put it away as soon as you arrive there. This is just for my peace of mind." She then smiled to them.

"What is it for?" The young man on the left asked.

"I told you for my peace of mind." The woman said and looked at the man on the right. She looked a little nervous when she looks at him. But she was still smiling.

"Mama, there are only stones in this pouch." The young man on the right with familiar voice said. He stared at the stones for a moment.

"I don't think I will need these stones with me, Mama. I will study hard and be careful in the city." He sounded like he was pleading than rejecting the gift. He sounded scared.

"This is just a symbol that I will be with you at all times. This was something that my grandmother passed down to me. It will not do you any harm, my son." She answered calmly.
The young man on the right stood up and politely put the pouch on the coffee table and turned around to leave but then he stopped. I could see his face and realized that he was my father. My father! I gasped and covered my mouth but then I realized that he probably couldn’t hear me. Everything seems to fall into place now. The woman was my grandmother and the other young man was my uncle! This must be the time when they were about to leave to go to college. This was way before I was even conceived.

"I'm sorry, Mama. I love you and respect you but I am not taking this stones with me. I will be fine." My young father then walked out of the room. He looked sad for disappointing my grandmother but at the same time he looks proud to be strong enough to speak his mind.

I could hear my grandmother sighed and reached for the pouch that my father left.

"Longka, take this pouch and put it away for him when you get there. Try to hide it from him but hide it where he put his clothes. Let's hope that the spirits will still protect him even though he doesn't take it himself."

"Yes Mama." My uncle nodded and got up.

I felt a little bit betrayed by him. How can he do this to my father? He clearly didn't want the stupid pouch with stones in it. What good are they going to be anyway? I know they have money back then so there was no need to use stones to barter. But then as if a light bulb appears above my head. Of course....she was giving them opo-opo or jimat. Our tribe believes in things that has something to do with some sort of magic, spirit or supernatural powers. My grandmother was very superstitious and she came from the royal family in our tribe, "tau ngKabose-nya" what the people in our tribe say, of course she had all of these magic that she wanted to pass down to her children.

Her mother was a priest. An Animism priest of some sort. This was before the missionaries came to our land and convert most of our people into Christianity. White magic, my uncle used to say. It wasn’t black magic because she never tried to hurt anyone but rather to protect them. Protect our family, our people. I wonder why my father didn't want it. I probably would've said no also but what does he care? This was then in 1962 and I knew people in our tribe were very superstitious. Our small tribe is from central of the Sulawesi island. They still are superstitious even to this day.

I was still caught up with my thoughts until suddenly I heard that sound out of nowhere.
Ding.

I almost jumped but then I opened my eyes. I found myself seating in the narrow seat. I could feel my back aching suddenly. I looked around and realized that I was in the plane still on my way back to Utah from Jakarta. I checked the time on the big screen in front of me. Eleven thirty three. Six more hours to Los Angeles and then I have to hop into my connection flight to Salt Lake City.
I straightened my posture and searched for the friendly flight attendant for a glass of water. She was nowhere to be found and I don't feel like getting up from my seat just yet. I was glad I decided to fly with Singapore Air. They have the best service compare to the rest of International Airlines that I have experienced. Better food and friendly stewardess. I knew they had high standards for their flight attendants. They all look like they came out of the magazine and were always smiling.

It was then when I realized I had to fly with Delta to Utah. Oh well....at least it won't be as long. I'll survive the two hours with just peanuts and water and not so friendly flight attendants.

I tried to concentrate on the movie playing but I couldn't. I started thinking of my dream again but my sadness overcame my curiosity for the moment. I missed my father. I was glad I had the time to say goodbye to him. I remembered clearly when my sister called that morning before I was heading to class.

"Tia?" Her voice was urgent.

"Oh hi sis! What's up? Miss me already? I just chatted with you last night!" I tried to joke thinking that she was just being silly.

"Yes of course I miss you but there's something else." Awkward silence because I knew this was coming sooner or later. I put down my backpack sat down on my bed.

"Did I lose my chance of saying goodbye already?" I tried to hold back my tears. My father had cancer and I knew he's been in and out of the hospital within the last year. Was it time for him to go?

"No sis, you still can if you leave today or tomorrow. The doctor seemed to think that we are running out of time. Mama tua, mama ade and papa tua are arriving tomorrow morning." I tried to swallow. My father's siblings were on their way already. If they are coming then it must be really close to the end.

"Let me make the arrangements and call you back, sis! I will try to be there as soon as possible." I hung up the phone and sat there staring at our family picture. The picture that we took about 5 years ago when I just started high school. He was still strong then. I tried not to focus on my self pity and got up to make phone calls.

I called the school and work to let them know I won't be in for awhile. That was painless. Then I called American Express to get them to raise my limit so that I could purchase my ticket. After I was on hold for awhile they told me that I am free to spend about a little over three thousand dollars. Geez, I should have thought of that for a shopping spree.

I flew the next morning from Salt Lake City to San Francisco, Narita and then straight to Jakarta. I couldn't get a seat with Singapore Air so I had to settle for Northwest. I got to Jakarta on a Friday afternoon. My sister picked me up at the airport and went straight to the hospital.

My father was lying hopeless in his death bed. My aunts and uncle were already there and were sitting around him. My mother was sitting at the top of the bed. She was not crying but she looked older than the last time I saw her. She must be exhausted.

I had the chance to accompany my mother for 3 days before my father passed away. I was glad that I flew home immediately. The last days with him was excruciating. I was getting really queasy with all of the needles the doctors had to poke him for the dialysis. Ironically my father didn't die of cancer that he suffered for the last 3 years. Kidney failure destroyed his body.

The funeral was nothing I have ever seen before. I shouldn’t be surprised but it was a bit overwhelming. Ten big buses were sent to our house from the university my father worked for. Six of the buses were filled with faculties, students and employees of the university. The rest of the buses were brought to transport family and friends for the burial.

Dozens of flower boards were lining up in front of our house. The modest neighborhood looked really fancy decorated with all these flowers. The house was full with people who came to offer their sympathy. I cried once at the hospital when he passed away and didn’t cry for two days until it was time to close the casket. I cried then and told him that I loved him although I knew he couldn’t hear me. My younger brother started crying and then my mother and then everyone else tried to calm us down. It was our final goodbye to him in front of hundreds of people who admired him, students whom he taught, colleagues who appreciate his brilliant mind and families who loved him dearly.

Ding.

The sound again, another rude awakening from another daydream. Must be the seat belt light I checked, but I couldn't feel any turbulence right now. Sure enough the seat belt light wasn’t on. I guess it was just time to get back to reality. I sighed and started looking for the flight attendant again. I saw one of the pretty stewardesses walking towards my seat. I waved my hand at her.

“Yes Miss can I get you something?” She was smiling. I wonder how she kept her hair so neat like that for the 14 hours flight.

“Can I please get a glass of water?” I didn’t smile. Not necessary.

“Of course! You look tired, would you also like a hot towel?” She was still smiling at me. Gosh, I must look really bad right now.

“Umm sure, why not.” It will help I guess.

She came back after a couple of minutes with my water and the hot towel. I thanked her and she said welcome and was still smiling showing her perfect white teeth and then glided like she’s on the runway.

I took the hot towel and put it on my tray. It was really hot. I almost drop the towel on the floor it was that hot.

“Stupid towel!” I mumbled. I waited awhile and sip my water. After about a minute I took the towel again to wipe my face. Before I was able to open it and wipe my face the tray started shaking.

“What in the world?!” Turbulence. I heard the ding sound to fasten my seat belt. This time it was the real thing. It must be more then just a breeze I thought to myself. Right after that thought the plane was moving so roughly that I dropped the towel and spilled the water on my jeans.

“Great!” I said loudly. Who cares if people staring anymore! I was already upset as it is. The teeter clatter continued longer than a minute. I saw the same stewardess walking around making sure that everyone had their belt on. I heard a crying baby in the front seat. I looked across the aisle and saw the woman holding a rosary necklace and started praying.

I was panicking. I’m sure it will stop, wouldn’t it? It must stop. It was just a stupid turbulence. I was actually scared. I thought of my father out of nowhere. I hope this is not my time yet. I closed my eyes and started praying. My backpack slide out from underneath the seat in front of me. It seemed like an earthquake if that what an earthquake feels like. Everything was shaking.

Dear God please….I pleaded to the Almighty. I still have a lot of things to do in my life. And my mother…there’s no way she can handle this after my father’s death. Please God. Suddenly I heard something from the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.” Darn it, I thought God was speaking to me. I closed my eyes and tried to listen.

“We are currently experiencing high wind as you know.” Yeah no kidding, I thought. “We will raise the altitude and fly a little higher to avoid the turbulence. Please rest-assure that everything is under control. Please let one of our crew know if you need anything else. Thank you for your patience.”

I felt a little better. I turned to the woman across the aisle and she also looked calmer. Phew. The flight was still bumpy but after “our captain” addressed the issue everyone seemed to relax a little bit. After a few minutes the flight was as smooth as ever.

I looked down to look for my backpack. It was stuck under my seat between the floor and the safety vest. I grabbed it and dug for my I-pod. It was buried all the way down in the bag. I put my headphones on and tried to sleep until I feel someone was touching my shoulder.

I turned around to see who it was. It was the woman with the rosary. She was holding something.

“This fell from your bag.” She handed me the fabric. I don’t remember bringing anything like that.

“I don’t think it’s mine.” I told her politely.

“No, I saw it came out of your bag.” She tried to gesture the way it was coming out of my bag.

“Oh…Ok, thanks!” I tried to smile to her and took the fabric. It was heavier than I’d expected. It was actually a small bag with a string. I looked at it and wonder what it’s all about. I opened the pouch and thinking that may be my sister was playing a joke on me and leave some quarters in there for the vending machine at the airport. I opened the pouch and gasped. There were 7 stones in there. This was the pouch with the stones that my grandmother gave to my father!