Flashes of lights on cars and bright streetlights adds on the erotic nightlife in Batam, a new metropolitan city that continues to change its face with shop-houses, malls and housing of all types. Light-dotted night. Singapore city lights flickered from a distance waving to invite anyone tempted to spend money there. One by one the starving hedonists search for and prey on what is desired for a satisfaction.
In the corner of Nagoya the endless crowds in a pujasera, people are busying themselves ordering everything that can satisfy the appetite. The umbrellas of the tents all march like a mushroom house in a fairy tale.
”Please Mister,” soft, flirty voices make themselves known.
To me those voices make my heart shiver for a moment due to its passionate voice belonging to the fairer sex. My eyes search for who these voices belong to? So many women calling out the same word.
The glinting lights and the humans who are enjoying seafood looks like the same scenery-wise. Once again the voice is heard, “Please Mister, just over here, Mister.” Apparently the voice is right behind me. I see a woman in waitress uniform with a minimalist style pasting a smile. I am stunned by the beauty of her face which was like a moon.
”Just order anything,” she says while pointing me to table number 13. She gives me a menu list and I choose my favorite brains and snail gongs. While I wait for the order I notice the moon-faced girl is serving the arriving guests. Like there is a magnetic aura that pulls me to approach it. By reason of wanting to add an order I wave my hand at her.
”What is it, Mister?” That smile comes back, widening.
”Add another tea.” I gave her a reason so I could stare at the full-moon shade from her aura.
After I enjoy the served seafood dishes and tea with the company of enthusiastic humans who enjoy the pleasures of the world by enjoying the food. The moonlight of night becomes more beautiful with the presence of a moon-faced girl. From time to time my naughty gaze would steal a glance at the agility and the light that emanated from her.
Ever since then, my weekend nights has become full of color. When my step reaches pujasera, always with the same order, the same pounding, the same smile, and the moon’s face remains as shiny as it always was.
Sometimes I make time to stop by the shopping centre around Muka Kuning where I work. Starting from Panbil Shopping Mall Muka Kuning, Mega Mall Batam Centre to Batam City Square. It is only just taking a happy step to greet my weekend night with buying a piece of clothe worthy of a moon-faced girl.
Yet for this weekend night, after I have prepared everything. My best clothes are worn. My perfumes are sprayed all over my body. The greeting I used to receive is gone this time. My eyes search every corner and run from one table to another to see my moon face.
Days I pass by going back to the starting point. Once adrenaline kicks when there is a wish to see the moon’s face, this time a flat dusk is all I met. I try to let go of the tireness by looking for nightly entertainment releasing stress from work, I visit the disco at a corner of Nagoya.
The frenetic atmosphere of the disco, cigarette smoke, the smell of liquor, dim lights as if this place is a place for those who want to hide their identity. The music thumps along with my heartbeat, which was looking for what I did not know myself. I pick a corner on the bench where the bartender is selling drinks. I choose orange juice.
”What, Mister? Orange juice?” She asks as if she wanted to snide.
”What of it?” I snark back.
”Nothing, Mister.”
I know that my order is not what is common. But I do not want a repeat of enjoying those alcoholic drinks. Once I tried to gulp them, three days I spent in bed. Ruining all of my activities.
”Here, Mister?”
I am taken by surprise and stare in awe as if I have been thrown into a time where that voice called for me. I try to find the source of that voice around the flashes of the disco lights.
”Hey, you?!”
”What is it, Mister?”
I reach out my hand and squeeze her hand as an expression of my longing that somehow miss of whatever meaning that I’m currently experiencing. I slip in a question asking why she stops from pujasera. Before I could hear the answer from his lips, a loud voice stomps the ears.
“Rini, hurry up, room 13!” A middle-aged woman known as ‘mami’ waves forcibly.
“What’s wrong with room 13?” I thought.
My curiosity made me sink in the question.
That day I went back to the disco.
It was a day of footwork and body gestures so as not to leave any suspicious traces. But the ability I have honed lost to the greatness of the owner of the disco. Subsequently I am caught under suspicion of peeping.
Now I set another set of steps to ensure my absurdity does not happen again. I change my appearance. And I tried to order a girl in room 13. After a very difficult transaction and a fairly expensive fee. Spending a month of my salary, I finally got into room 13. In room 13 with dim, green lights, I saw a girl with her moon face shocked to see me coming.
“Rini, give me a chance to talk,” I plead as I ask her to look at the crescent moon on the stretch of the night. With all the emotional outbursts I express all the sense of my longing and desire to have her as a life partner.
“But, have you been blind to the reality of who I am?” Rini say firmly while explaining the background of her life.
“I do not care about that Rin,” a brave answer from me that was risky for my choice.
“Give me a month, I’ll raise money to redeem you,” I promise as we continue the beautiful stories about our future.
My passion and determination to atone for my love for the moon-faced girl prompt me to look for sources of income. Working late hours into the nights that I usually pass by lazily now I go through with determination that appears in layers. All of the desires I used to enjoy are now in fasting.
One month finally pass by as I promised to Rini. I intentionally did not contact her to surprise her that my promise is not an empty vow. I go to the disco where my moon face lives, but I encounter an uncharacteristic mood. The police and yellow lines of the crime scene force me to ask.
“What’s the matter?” I go over to the security officer at the disco I have known. His explanation make me unable to withstand the thrill of emotion that wants to explode from my chest and head.
“No!!!!” I go into hysterics and all the money is scattered about. The murdered woman is Rini, the moon-faced girl.
Bambang Kariyawan Ys., a teacher. WA: 08117595971.