Deraman Part 2

"Come on now. Your turn is up! We don't have all day." The man donning in kebaya ensemble urged nonchalantly.

"Relax, Manisha. I haven't finish doing her hair. The bun is not ready, it must be as big as her head you know. She must look perfect tonight, right?" another skinny man in a tight 'Marilyn Monroe' imprinted t-shirt retorted lip pouchingly.

"Don't give me that crap! It's your fault who came late. I don't give a damn whether you are dating a datuk's son or whatever, I want her finish in 5 minutes!" yelled Manisha twice his previous tone. The skinny man stunned and one of his rib must have fractured as per aura of Manisha's tantrum. If it was not because of the defeaning musics of Barbra Streisand all over the abandoned warehouse, the audience out there must have contemplating a big fight back stage. His voice was one of the kind. Everybody in the industry knew the voice too well. In fact, Senah knew it too, only she had to learn it the hard way. She had to learn it by mere incident. She never thought in a million years that she would had involved in this part of drama let alone to be the sole character of the show. Never.

It was a prank by her friends. She recalled the other day just right after she was heading home from the Al-Quran circle class at surau Kampung Berembang. Everybody was talking behind her and the chuckling annoyed her very much. Senah could tell something was up but she couldn't figure it out. As the eldest daughter of a widowed Tok Empat, the time was consuming her. There were infinity of exiguous time for a social call. She had no friends except her small brothers and Limah. Limah was the only one who being nice to her despite the hatred from other people on her thanks to Mak Joyah. Limah was the one who came and handing over some rendang and biscuits once in a while. Not that she could not buy them on her own but the comfort of a friend is way too soothing. Senah missed her mother. If only her mother was still alive, none of this would had happened to her. Sometimes, she felt as if she could just leave the mephitic kitchen to join the happening muster at Limah's parent brick staircase once again but she was afraid. Afraid of something in the past that she could never ripped off of her mind.

Usually, during its peak all the seven steps of the staircase would be occupied by sets of woman settling in a uniquely order manner. The story tellers who also known as the elders were given the first class seats which were the first step of the stair from the ground. Well, it was not any given seat per se, but it was rather a mutual understanding between them to set up the co-ordination so that the story teller would have the ample space to tell stories (mostly vicious gossips) uninterrupted. As for the upper benchers, they would happily scrutinizing for louse on heads of one step down seaters while listening to the prattling and all.

Senah found this activity was rather disgusting and one day out of curiosity she sneaked out of the house to join the group. A brilliant idea popped up in her mind. Instead of sitting upstairs and had to do the gross thing she wouldn't do, she might as well sit somewhere she didn't have to do such thing. What a clever girl, she whispered to herself. Smile engulfing her blotchy face. But, in the god's love, the self admiring was not long as she found herself being banned from the club forever. She cursed herself. Such a naive girl. She sat on the very spot of Mak Joyah's, the living legend of detractor who would pick his own husband to tale about. From then on, not only Mak Joyah would rolled her eyes every time she passed her but came to the habit of adjourning the staircase meeting by spreading execration upon the poor Senah.

But, Senah never took anything to her heart. She knew for a fact that after a while all the slanders and trash talks would diminished. And, she also knew when they had a more spicy issue they would forget about her. She kept her prayers and above all she secretly prayed for her to be found with a prince charming and get married. Sadly, the village had yet to have a new spice to talk about. Therefore, she must hold on for a little while with Mak Joyah's world war. What Senah didn't know, the latter part of her prayer was currently undertaking its course and the destination was not that far.

"Hey, why are you still waiting there? The show is about to start and you need to be on stage now!" Manisha grunted again this time his hands on the waist. And, once again everybody knew with that demeanor he will kick anything that came in his way.

Senah was so disappointed with Limah. How could a friend did this to her. Senah felt betrayed. She never knew the decision to go to the warehouse was actually a trick. She trusted Limah very much. Senah was forced to do the thing that could bring up her father's wrath. Senah had no choice. She walked on the runway sheepishly. If only the nerve was visible, she bet everybody in the warehouse would had fainted because of it. She didn't know how long had she been on the stage. Last thing Senah could remember was the metal crown had already clipped on her thick hair bun. No diamonds whatsoever, just a plain metal crown. Manisha must have taken it from a garbage center or somewhere. She won it. She won the Ratu Kebaya contest!

As Senah struggling with her mix feeling of should her winning deserved to be celebrated or not, her eyes were fixated onto a manly figure at the corner of the stage. Her heart stumped. Her mind flattered. But, it was not long when suddenly, a sharp blow to the warehouse door startled everybody in the warehouse. Several man with white prayer cap came forth shouted 'Haram.. Haram!'. The crowd was scattered in chaos. Senah was almost fainted when she saw a fierce-looking man marching into the crowd. It was her father!

Senah was certain that her father didn't know she was there let alone participating in the contest and won it. She must find a way to get out of the crowd. She glared at the corner of the stage. No body was there. Perhaps, the man that she saw just now might freaked out and ran away. Senah started sprinting as if there was no other day tomorrow. She looked back only to notice that somebody had chasing her. Thinking of that could be her father she started to double the speed. She was thankful that she used to be a prowess sprinter in her old days of primary school. Mr Chong must be very proud of her if he saw her running this fast. Senah grinned. Her grin ceased prematurely when she stumbled upon the enormous root trees.

"Damn it," she griped holding on the crown on her head. She had made a decision. No matter what happens she will cling on to the crown. Even if her father came out of the bush. Senah waited. The pain of the fall sipped in her sensory up to the brain little by little. Suddenly, a black shadow came out of nowhere approximated her distance. The shadow gave its hand to Senah. Senah took the hand and came closer to the shadow. Under the faded moon light Senah could see the face that she prayed for a long time. It wasn't like what Senah expected. His face was scarred and blotchy. Never came close to Senah's prince charming fairy tale. Nevertheless, Senah could feel a sense of dejavu with this man. He was the man at the corner of the stage and he was DERAMAN...

Deraman Part 1

"Prangggg!!"

A sharp deafening sound suddenly killing the calming night. The gloomy old abode finally making its voice after of so many days in hush. The surface of the swamp flanked to the hut stirred in reflection of the full moon.
A figure came out of nowhere running towards the abode. The path was not a friendly friend. Stumbling upon the solid radix of the forest trees made the figure plunged, head first, kissing the wet ground. The figure sneered in agony. But adrenaline had taken its toll long ago, the pain that in any normal circumstances would cause a faint seemed as if a nip of fire ant. The figure got up on the feet and started sprinting again. More alert this time, of course.

 "Abang!!" she shrieked cuddling the trembling 6 years old boy that faced a two-times of his height man looking very stern and ferocious. A crumb of broken ceramic plate spotted all over the floor. The boy stood still too frightened to move anywhere worrying to get cut by the sharp fragments or worst, to be slapped by the man before him.

"I told you so many times never set your foot in this house!" the man barked out. Several driblets came out from the man's mouth as in evening drizzle. Thanks to the rampant caries the man has lost his front fences.

"But I just wanted to give some foods to Atok. Pity him, he hasn't eat for so many days" the boy retorted slowly while looking sympathetically to the old man at the corner of the house.

"Shut up!. How dare you talk back to me!" once again the driblets spraying. Only this time, its double the amount of the previous.

"Abang. Don't be too harsh on him. He's only 6. And, he is right, Abah hasn't eat anything. Look at him" Senah trying to console her husband while at the same time budging slightly to the back afraid of her husband's free kick in the face. Deraman has always been known for his bad temper. And it got worst these days. Senah still remember vividly the current incident that had happened in surau few days back. The old nyatoh wall of the surau almost completely destroyed because of him. The reason was not big, in fact it was so silly Senah had to pinch herself so hard when she first heard about the story from Limah, the head of the woman's affair in Kampung Berembang.

The reason was Pak Jak accidentally stepped on the brand new leather BATA shoes of Deraman. Well, it was not really Pak Jak's fault as the non-stop raining since the passed last week made the land all wet and muddy. Of course, in a hurry with a vision of less than 1cm, Pak Jak would easily headbutted the slippery floor and ended up on top of Deraman's shoes. And to Senah, it was entirely Deraman's fault to wear those shoes to surau. Firstly, Deraman never went for any prayer in surau and secondly, who on earth would go to surau wearing leather shoes during raining season? Senah knew her husband very well. She knew the reason he went to surau that day was because no other than the shoes. Deraman will not satisfy if nobody complementing anything new about him. Of course one way to boast about the new leather shoes is to wear them to the surau even for Maghrib prayer in a pouring rain. Poor Pak Jak, since then  he was not only keeping his distance to Deraman but he also bought a thicker than life glasses to wear on everyday.

"Senah, you don't interfere with my lesson to Sedi. I try to teach him to respect me as a father. And what kind of make-up are you wearing? It seems as if you put a mud in your face!" chattered Deraman incessantly.

Senah knew too well that kind of sarcastic question shouldn't be answered. She had her lesson, in hard and excruciating way. She will let him stop by himself.

"Go home both of you!" Deraman continued not even looking to the old man.

Senah and Sedi went down making their way out. Sedi felt a huge gush of disappointment. He broke into tears. He didn't understand why his father hated Atok so much. Atok is a good man. He always tells stories to Sedi. There were times Sedi lied to Deraman to come over to the old man's house. And there were times Sedi felt the old man as if his father's. The tears accelerated down the cheek hill.

The old man at the corner of the house slowly lifted his grey-haired head. The fold and furrows decorated his pale face telling unfinished stories of despair. As he looked plaintively in the gloomy dark of the night a tear dropped wetting the dry cheek.