Read Online Twilight in Djakarta by Mochtar Lubis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mochtar Lubis
Ads: Link
Limbara, chairman of the Indonesian Party. This is my son, Suryono, just returned from abroad, works in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.’
‘Ah, fine, fine! Have you joined the party too?’ asked Husin Limbara, while shaking hands with Suryono.
‘It’s quite enough with just Father in it,’ answered Suryono.
They laughed heartily, and Raden Kaslan accompanied Husin Limbara to his car waiting in the yard.
When he had re-entered and closed the door he rubbed his hands, looked in turn at Suryono and Fatma. And he laughed broadly.
‘We’re in!’ he then exclaimed in Dutch. ‘We’re made now,’ he said. Raden Kaslan sat down near Fatma, called Suryono over and spoke in confiding tones.
‘This is very secret; don’t tell anybody. A great catch for us!’
And very quickly he described to his wife and son the plans for raising money for the party.
‘Nah, it’s my intention,’ said Raden Kaslan when he had finished his tale, ‘to establish a number of corporations of differentkinds, with Fatma becoming the director of one, you, Suryono, the director of another one and so on with the other corporations, and in every one of them we must have a part interest, so that we get the largest possible share at the division of profits.’
‘Ah, I cannot participate,’ said Suryono. ‘I am a government official.’
‘Don’t worry, just quit, or ask for a prolonged leave of absence. I’ll talk about it with the party. It can be arranged.’
The three of them talked for a long time, making all kinds of plans. Something he had never suspected in himself gripped Suryono, a joy at the thought that he would dispose of so much money.
‘Ah,’ he said, ‘why not? I have decided for myself that I want it. If I get tired of it I’ll make another decision, that I want something else.’
By the time they had finished talking Suryono had already convinced himself that what he was doing was in no way reprehensible.
The other parties are doing the same thing, he thought. Why shouldn’t I?
Pak Idjo lay sprawled in the semi-darkness of the room in his hut. Since the accident when his delman collided with the car his illness felled him, his whole body consumed by fever. The boils on his body caused incessant pain, and every minute Pak Idjo kept muttering, ‘La illa haillallah – la illa haillallah,’ 1 moaning with pain; he didn’t eat, and only from time to time asked to drink.
When high fever attacked him, he often had nightmares and cried, ‘Aduh, the motor-car is attacking me. Have pity on the old horse! Help! Help!’
His wife, Ibu Idjo, was already half-ill herself for lack of sleep, caring for Pak Idjo.
That morning his fever had subsided considerably, and Pak Idjo called Ibu Idjo,
‘How’s our horse?’ he asked in a heavy voice.
‘Amat is looking after him. He’s looking for grass.’
‘Amat is already ten years old. Tell him to look for work,’ said Pak Idjo.
‘What a pity he’s still so little, otherwise he could run the delman,’ said his wife.
‘Yes, maybe he can get some light work. Just tell him to look wherever he can. How’s the money?’
‘Saimun and Itam have paid the rent for their room. There’s still a little left.’
‘Aduh, be sparing. Who knows when I’ll be well again?’
Ibu Idjo stepped outside and called Amat.
‘’Mat, Father says you must look for work to help bapa who is still sick.’
Sugeng, slumped in his chair, was deep in thought. His face was very tense and pale. Hasnah, his wife, had shut herself up in their bedroom.
They had just had another quarrel. The usual thing. The question of moving to another house. Hasnah’s screams still rang in his ears. ‘All the promises were false. From month to month you just make promises. Look how my belly is growing. It won’t be long before the child is born. Why do you make children if you cannot provide a decent place to live? Just throw it out, this child!’
Their joy at Sugeng’s promotion did
‘Ah, fine, fine! Have you joined the party too?’ asked Husin Limbara, while shaking hands with Suryono.
‘It’s quite enough with just Father in it,’ answered Suryono.
They laughed heartily, and Raden Kaslan accompanied Husin Limbara to his car waiting in the yard.
When he had re-entered and closed the door he rubbed his hands, looked in turn at Suryono and Fatma. And he laughed broadly.
‘We’re in!’ he then exclaimed in Dutch. ‘We’re made now,’ he said. Raden Kaslan sat down near Fatma, called Suryono over and spoke in confiding tones.
‘This is very secret; don’t tell anybody. A great catch for us!’
And very quickly he described to his wife and son the plans for raising money for the party.
‘Nah, it’s my intention,’ said Raden Kaslan when he had finished his tale, ‘to establish a number of corporations of differentkinds, with Fatma becoming the director of one, you, Suryono, the director of another one and so on with the other corporations, and in every one of them we must have a part interest, so that we get the largest possible share at the division of profits.’
‘Ah, I cannot participate,’ said Suryono. ‘I am a government official.’
‘Don’t worry, just quit, or ask for a prolonged leave of absence. I’ll talk about it with the party. It can be arranged.’
The three of them talked for a long time, making all kinds of plans. Something he had never suspected in himself gripped Suryono, a joy at the thought that he would dispose of so much money.
‘Ah,’ he said, ‘why not? I have decided for myself that I want it. If I get tired of it I’ll make another decision, that I want something else.’
By the time they had finished talking Suryono had already convinced himself that what he was doing was in no way reprehensible.
The other parties are doing the same thing, he thought. Why shouldn’t I?
Pak Idjo lay sprawled in the semi-darkness of the room in his hut. Since the accident when his delman collided with the car his illness felled him, his whole body consumed by fever. The boils on his body caused incessant pain, and every minute Pak Idjo kept muttering, ‘La illa haillallah – la illa haillallah,’ 1 moaning with pain; he didn’t eat, and only from time to time asked to drink.
When high fever attacked him, he often had nightmares and cried, ‘Aduh, the motor-car is attacking me. Have pity on the old horse! Help! Help!’
His wife, Ibu Idjo, was already half-ill herself for lack of sleep, caring for Pak Idjo.
That morning his fever had subsided considerably, and Pak Idjo called Ibu Idjo,
‘How’s our horse?’ he asked in a heavy voice.
‘Amat is looking after him. He’s looking for grass.’
‘Amat is already ten years old. Tell him to look for work,’ said Pak Idjo.
‘What a pity he’s still so little, otherwise he could run the delman,’ said his wife.
‘Yes, maybe he can get some light work. Just tell him to look wherever he can. How’s the money?’
‘Saimun and Itam have paid the rent for their room. There’s still a little left.’
‘Aduh, be sparing. Who knows when I’ll be well again?’
Ibu Idjo stepped outside and called Amat.
‘’Mat, Father says you must look for work to help bapa who is still sick.’
Sugeng, slumped in his chair, was deep in thought. His face was very tense and pale. Hasnah, his wife, had shut herself up in their bedroom.
They had just had another quarrel. The usual thing. The question of moving to another house. Hasnah’s screams still rang in his ears. ‘All the promises were false. From month to month you just make promises. Look how my belly is growing. It won’t be long before the child is born. Why do you make children if you cannot provide a decent place to live? Just throw it out, this child!’
Their joy at Sugeng’s promotion did
Similar Books
