Short Story (Cerpen)

The Corpse Floating In The Lake

Barnabas began to dive right when the sky was meeting purplishly, when a cold wind swept across the surface of the lake so that the water hissed slowly, very very very slowly, almost like a whisper, to reveal secrets that will never be revealed.

It was only the sky, it was the sky that Barnabas was waiting for, because when he then dived near the trunks of trees under the surface of the lake to spear fish, a glimmer of light is enough to see everything that moves, only moves, nothing but moves, when with just the corner of his eye he knows which is not a cork fish not a red fish. Yes, his hands will only move spearhead as fast as lightning like not waiting for a brain command, if the two types of fish pass though darting, swarming or separated and lost, as if the two types of fish pass by, any one will not escape from his whipped spear strike.

The glasses he used for diving were indeed too old and a bit fuzzy if used to see in the dimness, which this time seems to still be going to last quite a long time, he said, because the sky is cloudy and the black mega is clumping. From the water, without having to glance at the surface, you know Barnabas spatter has dripped all over the surface of the lake. But what does it mean for someone who dives and hunts fish, right? Barnabas continued to swim in the water almost like a fish, hunting fish, without which the fish should know how much his soul was being threatened. Of course he knows fish as he knows himself.

The brainless fish, he thought, deserved so easy to spear.

But Barnabas also knew, precisely because the fish's brain is so very small, that it is insufficient to think, the fish's instincts to danger work with high sensitivity. So Barnabas had to deceive him. So he also swims like a fish, floats like wood, dives like a ballast—and once his hands move, it must jump his spear faster than the work of the fish instinct. He had noticed how the fish in the group would be less careful than the fish swimming alone, perhaps because they felt safe with many fish, so they were not aware of the danger threatening.

The fish detached from the entourage and confusion sometimes attracted Barnabas' attention. He likes to scout and target it carefully, sometimes without a sharp corner, to at the right moment to spear it without the fish being dodged.

Red fish means red cork fish, delicious if burned. Cork fish means khahabei fish, the size can be as big as calves, offerings for mothers who have just given birth, no less tasty fried, but Barnabas thinks cooking oil is not part of his life, because I never bought it. Barnabas never ate the fish he hunted. If the purplish sky had become brighter, at least twenty to thirty unfortunate fishes in his hands were already hanging on one of the pier's masts. Amount enough to connect life for a day, two days, three days, a week, it does not matter exactly how long, because Barnabas every day diving too—unless, of course, on Sunday, it does not matter how long, because Barnabas every day diving, on that day Barnabas worshiped.

On any day the fish did not worship, he thought again, so where did they go today?

It is not because of the rain that the fish are not visible, it may be for nothing but to be entouraged to eat elsewhere with its snout inexhaustible moving masticate. But still Barnabas was annoyed because this made him forced to hunt fish longer. He did not like to install bubu and did not also like to install nets like many other people on the islands in the lake, because installing bubu is not hunting and installing nets is also not hunting, but also not hunting, while he just wanted to be a fish hunter and nothing but hunting fish as he had always considered as a call.

Some people want to be priests, he thought, I want to be a fish hunter.

From childhood it was known that people dive without glasses and can even get more fish from them now. Could it be that the lake water used to be nothing like the lake water now? More clear because it is cleaner and diver's eyes do not have to be spicy even though diving linger?

Barnabas certainly remembered how in the past in the lake everything was not the same as now.

There used to be no Johnson roar, thought Barnabas, because bolotu boats are not outboard engines. From island to island, or from island to land, people use bolotu that only need to be rowed. Sometimes passengers help paddle, but without the help of passengers, the journey from one small island to another small island in the lake surrounded by hills can still take place, no matter if it is fast or slow because there is no time that is too right or too late. Heaven and earth intermingle regardless of the ticking of the watch— and Barnabas prefers to be part of the sky or part of the earth rather than a watch.

So there is nothing for Barnabas to worry about if this morning the fish are hiding. The sky was indeed dark for a little longer because of the cloudiness and rain and of course this should be taken for granted, so ordinary, as if nothing else were more ordinary, and indeed Barnabas had no objection at all to it.

I patiently wait for you fish, inwardly, everyone must be patient enough to wait for the creature who will give up the soul today for the continuation of his killer's life. What does it mean to hold on to hunger for a while to live longer? Enjoy your very life while it's fish, for in the end I will take you to the market and the fishmonger will soon display you at the cheap wooden table, the restaurant chef's place by the lake will point at you, buy you, throw away your scales and guts, then fry you for the food of the tourists who will throw your bones and head to be the scramble of gold fish in the pond that do not know how soon or later they will also soon be a meal and his bones and head will also be thrown as a show of world savagery that seems to increase appetite.

Barnabas suddenly recalled, His son Clement, who had dropped out of theological school, had once uttered a word he did not understand.

Homo homini lupus….

At that time Barnabas did ask, what does it mean that Clement did not continue his schooling to become a priest, wasting the savings of decades of hunting fish. In the land of the lake, where every hill topped a cross, being a priest was a life of praise.

But this was the reply of his only son Clement, who one day suddenly reappeared from the fog above the lake while rowing bolotu, leaving the school in the city for all eternity.

What does it mean to worship the heavens, but to let blood stain the earth….

During their stay in their house, where the lake water lizards always sounded from under the floor boards from night to night, Clement looked often tepekur. His mother had long since died of tapeworms and they lived alone, until Clement went to the city, with the blessing of a priest, to study to become a priest.

Barnabas did not hear people speaking in low tones about shootings and riots in other places. Clement once read a message to a small object that he often used to talk.

I'm still in hongyeb, some hongibi, and syidos know exactly who the shooter in his gidinya, former nyahongyeb Dadbdedsya said he had data on the names of the shooter. They are (self-censorship by the author) disguised as the team of Sagangrod Tjhitgosoe ede dede nyalabi, the uniform is the same as this sangangrod, the weapon is different. This is A1 information, but I must be careful, we are waiting for the media who the authorities dare to call who they are. Don't believe the talk of hypocrites….

Barnabas really did not understand what to say. The country is just a lake with thirty islands surrounded by steep cliffs and winding hugging it. He never knew and needed nothing more than the horizon of his land, which had given him the most beautiful mega-mega in the blue sky, the green hills, and, and the depth behind the surface of the lake where it hunts the fish for which it is all the world is more than enough. Plus the soothing sermons of pastors every weekend and the feasts of people from all over the island every year, it was all more than anything he could ask for.

But Barnabas felt the changes that had taken place recently, that the pastor who did not speak of the independence of his church would be deserted.

***

The rain seemed to be hardening and when Barnabas took a breath on the surface of the lake indeed as long as the eye looked was only a gray world because the curtain of rain against the background of the shadow of the back of the hills in the distance.

His stomach felt a bit hungry but his strength had not diminished at all. He can bring twenty to thirty fish to the market, but if he only brings ten or fifteen there is nothing to regret at all. Even if the fish he was speared is quite large—and the biggest fish like to be alone—then one or two tails will actually be paid higher than the usual ten fish.

Yes, the fish do not know when they will die, inner Barnabas, but this morning it seems that no one will die. At least near the surface.

So Barnabas dives, dives, and dives deeper, to where the big fish are usually aloof.

But this idea of a solitary big fish, which naturally separates itself from being able to go and fro with small fish, though of its own kind, reminds Barnabas of himself. Few hunters among the harvesters and lathe fitters, and among the hunters who usually work day or night, only Barnabas who always works just before dawn they are— clearly make it different, he said, the difference that might be down to Clement. Indeed, many things do not understand also from the ideas of Clement, especially when he talks about the statement for independence….

Humans are sometimes still like fish, he thought, unable to mix and only comfortable with the like.

In the lake has been included fish from foreign places, such as Toraja cork fish, which apparently prefers to eat the eggs of cork fish native to the lake and other fish. The original cork fish called khahabei was to be sought by divers in the deepest part of the lake. While the lohan fish are also foreign in the lake, not only eat the eggs of cork fish, children of cork fish, and other small fish, but also shrimp and jengkerik . So other native fish such as the celi fish, large and small gete-gete fish, gastor fish, red cork fish, black cork fish that was once abundant are now only caught in moderation; there are still many animal fish or rainbow fish, but the kehilo fish are increasingly difficult to find, maybe because the farther they hide, maybe also stay a little. Their place has been filled with foreign fish called red-eye fish, fish pond, fish shoes siamese, tilapia, nile fish, and goldfish. Barnabas knew well that there used to be at least twenty-nine species of fish, including sea fish that entered from the estuary of the river to the east, and now only sixteen species, including sea fish, there are nine original types.

Fish eat fish, do humans not eat humans? Barnabas did not care much whether he ever answered his own question.

It's been a few days that Clement disappeared. Neighbors said sometimes people come to wonder about Klemen—not, they are not fellow residents in the land of the lake who know each other since birth. The boat used by Clement was also still in place, when a few nights ago suddenly heard the roar of Johnson's boat in the distance at midnight. The people who were awake looked at each other. Those who are used to being alone must face everything alone.

Barnabas dived deeper, even touching the mud at the bottom of the lake. A large, alert khahabei fish flashed, reflecting the mud that immediately covered the view. Barnabas could see nothing. The light which from the morning had never been brighter than the confusion in the rain, at the bottom of this lake could not show anything to Barnabas.

But among the thick plume of mud Barnabas felt something coming from the bottom of the lake and he immediately avoided it. Irrespective, something floating due to the movement of the khahabei fish had released its attachment from the roots at the bottom of the lake, touching its body also on its way to the surface of the lake.

He gasped and released himself from the puff of mud, darting and following something that was immediately clearly a corpse. From behind his blurry diving glasses, his eyes were fixed on the figure, which slowly but surely headed upwards until it floated on the surface of the lake. With a slightly better light than at the bottom of the lake, though not very clear, Barnabas was able to confirm that the hands and feet of the corpse were tied, and the binder was a blue-and-white striped flag tear, his mouth was covered with a red cloth.

On the surface of it the rain is not getting subsided but hardened. A strong wind swept across the surface of the lake, so that the rainwater that fell from the sky was scattered like a giant curtain waving. Among the roar of the wind tugging at the leaves of the nyiur tree on all the islands, there was a long scream from the middle of the lake.

Klemeeeeeeeeeennnn!

Jayapura, November 12-14, 20