.a sweet nightmare.

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the kids were playing down the damp, gravel road. kris, the oldest was spinning the third sister, indah, around and around in her hug. while hendra, the second child was chasing the little one, aisa. their happy laughter filled the air. their faces glistened with healthy sweat, swatted frizzy hairs to the already beautiful brown foreheads.

up the road, came mr. green, a friend of father’s in everything green; t-shirt, boots, socks, cargo pants, giving his usual flick of hand and said,

how you doin’?

the girls, except the grinning aisa, ignored him like always. but cheery feeling was gone along with his swagger. mr. green means father is going away again. mr. green means no father for many months.

they stopped playing and started walking towards the other houses and runway-field up the high hill where father would fly his small old plane to distribute goods to the neighbouring remote village. hendra sluggishly walked ahead of kris and indah, with aisa tagging along behind her. some other villagers were walking towards the opposite direction, carrying loads and water from up stream. an old woman, saw the four of them and caught kris’s sad dark eyes. she shook her head as if disapproving. noticing the gesture, kris instinctually reached down and held indah’s hand, meaning to protect. she was somehow relieved that the her sisters were oblivious to what had occurred.

before the girls reached the field, they heard a loud rumbling noise of the plane’s engine. the hard blowing wind far above the ground heightened the noise. they saw father in his comfort zone, giving his signature goodbye of toothy smile and two thumbs up.

but wait.

why is the plane moving backwards?!

father suddenly seemed terribly worried. mr. green forgot to remove the weathered plastic covering the plane’s tail; it was now crumpled as wind blew it close to the fast rotating engine fan. the rickety old plane kept on sliding and turning sideways. kris panicking mind can’t help but thinking,

did the heavy downpour last night make the runway-field that slippery? the rain wore down the slope?

father and mr. green can’t manoeuvre the plane anymore. it skidded and swerved and lunged head first down the steep hill, heavily dragging the body.

the girls felt a tremendous tremble under their small grimy feet as the plane crashed the landing far below. they saw smoke and the wind carried a peculiar smell up the cliff.

but no bang or boom. nothing.

despite the haze which was filling the air, caused by the smoke, everyone who held their breathe when the plane plunged the cliff, inhaled simultaneously. kris hugged indah tighter, hoping it might calm the shudder she felt that ran through indah’s fragile body. ever the reckless one, hendra wanted to rush downhill, to the plane wreckage,  but kris gave her a look, raised up her forefinger, held it up for a mere second and then point to aisa, the one hendra should care to. hendra fidgetted, not knowing what to do. while still hugging indah close to her chest, kris’s mind was racing,

i can hear my heart pumping so furiously. surely indah can hear it too, with her head on my chest.  what good would it do in calming her in the embrace?

flickering little debris were flown here and there by the strong wind. a few fell on indah’s head so kris patted it away. they waited some more. waited for a roar of explosion. or cries for help. but nothing came. feebly, kris tried to put a cheery voice, asking her dear sister to hum the nursery song they all like. an awkward move. at their far right, kris sensed some movement. a few villagers ran to the cliff and look down.

determined, the four of them follow the crowd slowly walk down the slope, near the wreckage, where a small hut was built long ago. father chose the shabby hut as his haven,  usually he would take a rest before and after a flight of sending goods. they saw fire, crackling, eating away what was a plane. getting near the damaged piece of metal, they also got near to the hut.

suddenly, every ears caught thumps of heavy boots in the hut.

father?

father! he’s okay! he’s alive!

no…no….

before kris managed to get hold of hendra’s arm, hendra ran into the hut, along with aisa in tow.

no..no…something is not right.

then everyone heard high pitching screams, followed by wallowing cries. eyes already wet and cheeks damp with tears, kris turned her head to the right and caught a reflection on the dirty window, a shadow that resembled father’s silhouette.

kris kept on holding the third sister tight to her chest, tighter now that indah was shuddering more violently. she saw what hendra failed to see. mr. green was heavily leaning behind the worn door panel, his breathing slow and ragged. half of his torso is fully covered in his own blood or father’s, his proud green heavy boots were now crimson red. and the other half……

the thumps were not from father’s feet walking on the old creaking wooden floor, heading for his favourite resting chair. they were mr. green’s leg. heavy as he had to carry his weight on one leg.

and what was left of father......

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thank you for reading!