The Death Feast
As a real estate tycoon, I constantly seek
opportunities to venture out of the domestic market. Alan Incorporated gained
rapid momentum by refurbishing my own hometown, renovating an old education
institute, rescuing the lingering soul of a lost soldier and it culminated in
me giving a speech at my alma mater the other day. My henchman just forwarded
me an email requesting our services in the Indonesian Peninsula and I hurriedly
booked a flight down to the land of komodo dragons.
The journey to the redevelopment site was not a
simple task. When I landed in the capital city of Jarkarta, I had to catch a
local plane transfer before boarding another ferry to enter the state of
Sulawesi. I grabbed hold of a local tour agency pamphlet and learnt as much as
I could on the way to meeting Mr Samen. Sulawesi was originally discovered when
the Portuguese attempted to seek gold southwards and stumbled upon it by
accident. However, it was the Dutch that colonized them and they gave them
independence following the disastrous series of events stemming from the second
World War. As I was engrossed in learning the history of Sulawesi, the car came
to a sudden stop.
The driver stepped out of the car and opened
the bonnet. I worriedly look at my watch as I realized daylight was running out
and the night will creep in. Being lost in the middle of nowhere was already a
huge headache and being lost in at night would just make matters worse. As I
organized my documents about the development site, the driver sheepishly
informed me that we have ran out of fuel. I ordered him to find out the nearest
source of fuel as I could see the sun beginning to set. The driver casually
told me that it was impossible for us to continue our journey and started
making some calls on his phone.
Well, at least he’s trying to find a solution.
I stepped out of the car and realized we were
way up in the highlands area. The air was cool with a tinge of coldness and I
could see the contour of the majestic mountains that surrounded the region. I
briefly stretched my body and the driver was nowhere to be seen. Has he
abandoned me in the wilderness in the middle of the night? I was ready to call
his boss to reprimand him but my phone did not have any signal in these high
altitudes. Come to think of it, the driver was using a satellite phone to make
a call earlier. I was apprehensive in exploring the area further but I saw a
light source in my peripheral vision. Light illuminated from the silhouette of
a small attap house. I took a deep breath and began trudging towards it.
The reason I was terrified of the area was not
because I feared the dark. I have outgrown my fear of darkness during my
teenage years as I spent most time alone in the orphanage trying to not
associate myself with anybody else. I did not have many friends back then and
darkness gave me a sense of calmness in the sea of uneasiness. However, I felt
jitters as I closed in on the hut. It had a strange odor that seemed to be a
combination of burning incense and roasted chicken. I placed my hand on the
door handle and thought hard whether to ask for help or duke the night out in
the car. While I was deliberating on asking for aid in the night, the door
opened inwards and I fell straight onto the pasture-like floor.
“Strange man coming at a strange time to a
strange place with strange intentions,” the voice murmured as I began standing
up from the unfortunate fall. “Even stranger as this strange man stands outside
my door for such a long time.”
A man of muscular build and no taller than 5’7”
stood before me as he seemed to be crushing some sort of concoction in his
stone bowl. He had a strange tattoo across his broad shoulders and he was
dressed in some sort of ceremonial outfit. He reached out with his hands and
pulled me up from the floor. I could see him scrutinizing me as his eyes darted
up and down, trying to make a definite conclusion of this strange man in his
home.
“You must be the hired help. Quickly, put on
the outfit. The ceremony is about to begin.”
The man tossed at me a shirt with various
wave-like patterns together with a piece of long cloth that spanned quite
lengthy. He also passed me some sort of traditional headgear and ordered me to
hurry up. Before I could protest, the man was ordering me to hurry up. Being
fearful for my own safety, I decided to follow his instructions and see how it
goes. I was on a constant lookout for an exit to this nasty situation as I put
on the shirt. Strangely, the shirt felt comfortable on my bare skin while I had
no idea that the piece of long cloth was the bottom part of the costume. Apparently,
you must wrap the cloth around your waist a few rounds before tucking it at the
side. The villager then motioned for me to follow him as we moved into the next
room.
The room reeked of alcohol with empty beer
bottles lining up against the wall. The clutter was not only limited to just
beside the wall but I could clearly see a variation of liquor and chips all
over the room. It seemed to me that the bottles or bag of chips was wherever it
was emptied. Empty beer cans were also discarded in a small trash bin that was
over flowing with rubbish. This room clearly housed a drunkard and the man
seemed to read my exact thoughts as he began to explain that this was his
brother’s room.
Hasan was the worst drunk anybody could ever
meet. His daily diet would include some form of alcohol and he was constantly
asking his family for extra money just to splurge on drinks and brothels. His
lifestyle brought shame to the family and the man said that Hasan regularly got
into fight with his family members. The man words were bitter and I could hear
the sorrow in his voice. It was evident that he really loved his brother but
there was nothing he could do about his atrocious behavior.
As the man led me into the next room, he
introduced himself as Simon and told me he would pay for my services after the
job. There was no need to ask him about what job I was “hired” for as I could
see a coffin sitting at the center of the room. I assumed that I was some sort
of manual laborer hired to do odd jobs for him during the funeral what boy,
would I get proven wrong later. The woman resting inside was indisputably his
mother as Simon paid his respects by bowing on both of his knees. I muttered a
short prayer under my breath and Simon brought me out of the house to a huge
field. To my surprise, a large number of people turned up for the funeral with
shelters being set up for guests at every corner.
Traditional Indonesian flute music filled the
air with songs and poems by various attendees. Some of them were solemn while
others cried their hearts out through some sort of haphazard wailing. And I
thought that there was no way you can kill somebody via the sense of sound. Simon
explained to me that everyone was destined to die one day and he could sense
his mother gradual path to the afterlife months before it even began. He was
well-prepared for the funeral and had the entire village in attendance. He had
even hired a group of men to chant throughout the night as they nodded at me
knowingly while I passed by them.
“So how long have you been a shaman?”
The question took me by surprise as I realized
that I was not hired to be a laborer but a shaman. I found out later they
required a powerful shaman to summon his mother’s soul back to the village for
a proper burial. I knew that I should have told Simon the truth right there but
I was intrigued by the funeral proceedings that I decided to maintain this lie
a little longer. My henchman always taught me that the key to not getting
caught lying is to cover up a lie with yet another bigger lie. I explained to
him that I came from a long line of mighty shaman with every generation having
a child that had mystical powers linked to the underworld. Somehow, I managed
to convince him that I was on a shaman world tour to test out my powers at
various funerals.
Things were getting ominous as a man holding a
beer bottle confronted Simon after we left the chanting site. Their
conversation was filled with angry words with the intoxicated man accusing
Simon of withholding insurance money from him. Simon berated the man and told
him to stop drinking but the man spat in his face and told him to watch his
back as he may be next. The men then took a long gulp of drink before stumbling
towards the rice barn. Simon wiped off the spit from his face as he explained
to me that the drunk man was Hasan. Simon was shaking his head in
disappointment as he directed me towards the buffalos. We did not exchange any
further words as I could sense the tension between brothers in the air.
I will always remember the screams the buffalo
made as the sharp machete pierced its body. The man in charge of slaughtering
the animal sure took his time as he mutilated the body of the buffalo before it
took its final breath. The carcass was further separated as remnants were lined
up neatly across the field as if waiting for someone to come by to visit. The
bloodbath continued as the butcher wiped the buffalo blood off his machete
before moving onto the pigs.
I take my earlier words back as the sounds of
pig dying was more atrocious compared to the buffalos. The butcher seemed to
take pride in his work as each cut was precise and dealt sufficient pain to
induce a step closer to death and yet not enough to kill straight away. What
made me even more confused were young boys dancing to the music as they tried
catching the blood that was spurting out in long bamboo tubes.
Simon informed me that the highlight of the
slaughtering would be the cockfights. It was a battle royale between more than
50 chickens as they were realized into the cockpit for a fight to the death.
The onlookers were cheering and I even noticed someone walking around
collecting money for bets on the winner of the fight. The ceremony involved the
spilling of blood on the ground and required plenty of animal deaths to secure
safe passage for the soul to return to earth. Simon nudged me on my shoulders
and told me that it was my turn to show off my mystical prowess. I sighed and
moved towards the center of the site as groups of boys and girls began
surrounding me while clapping and dancing happily.
I raised my hands to the air as if trying to
collect spiritual energy. I concentrated hard despite the banging of drums and
flute music constantly interrupting my “ritual”. I then rotated my hands in a
circular motion in front of me to conjure energy I have collected from my
surroundings. I then pushed it towards the direction of the coffin as if to
signify the return of Simon’s mother. The funerals attendee went silent at a
moment’s notice. Everyone was looking around for any signs of the soul returning
to earth. I could feel the nervousness up to my throat as I was straight up
lying to my teeth and did not know what I have been doing for the past hour. I
repeated the collection and channeling of spiritual energy and tried passing
the energy in the direction of the dead. Nothing was happening as Simon held me
by my collar and questioned my shaman prowess. I knew that the lie was coming
to an end. I had to tell him the truth. As I began blurting out some words, a
light broke out in the middle of the cool night sky.
The small hole of light began expanding and a
spiral staircase sprouted out downwards. The villagers were bowing down in
respect while Simon was stunned at the fact that I conjured something
miraculous. I pushed his hand away from my collar and pointed at a figure descending
the flight of stairs. The figure was clad in a crimson red dress with light
radiating from what should be skin. The figure did not have any feet and was
simply floating along as she finally made her way down to the ground. As the
figure drifted towards us, I noticed the smell of incense getting stronger. It
then came to me that the figure was the soul of Simon’s dead mother. Simon’s
mother spiraled around the main festivity site as everyone was still in awe of
what was happening. I guess I can consider a career in being a shaman after
retiring as a real estate tycoon.
Simon’s mother embraced her beloved son as he
stood astounded by her presence.
“I miss you mother.”
I could see a smile materialize out of the
fluorescent figure’s face. The smile soon turned into a frown as the Simon’s
mother flew upwards into the sky. It was as if she was looking for something,
or someone as she scanned the area with her radiant eyes.
Hasan! A voice boomed across the entire village as it caused gust of wind to knock out some of the temporary shelter set up around the field.
Hasan! The voice roared again as people were
praying for Simon’s mother to pipe down. It was clear that she was looking for
her second son.
Sounds of beer bottles toppling over were heard
as Hasan was seen scrambling and making a mad dash to exit the funeral.
However, he was engulfed in a ball of light as his body froze instantaneously.
Simon’s mother began floating towards Hasan as her wicked crackle could be
heard through the night. An expression of unease and terror formed across
Hasan’s face as his mother approached him slowly but steadily. He shouted out
curse words while the shiny figure advanced towards him.
“Why Hasan. Why kill your own mother?” The
voice was filled with disgust, anger and most importantly disappointment.
“You have always loved Simon more. You funded
his education, his business, his everything! And when I want just more money
you would turn me down! You’re a biased parent and my only route out was if you
die! I could get half of your assets and more money than you can ever imagine!”
Hasan replied as he began coughing out blood in the luminous circle of light.
“I do not give you money because you will just
gamble it away! It’s about time you learnt a lesson about reality my son.” The
dead figure entered the ball of light and began choking Hasan. “Since I cannot
teach you in this life, I will teach you more in the afterlife!”
Hasan tried screaming for help but the
chokehold over his silenced him entirely. He tried struggling but his dead
mother maintained her firm grip over his throat. There was no escape as I could
see the light begin to dim within Hasan’s eyes.
The ball of light imploded as the night sky
went back to its natural calm state. The sky was just dark but two stars were
shining brightly as I helped Simon onto his feet. Tears were streaming down his
eyes as he saw his loved ones vanishing before him. The apocalyptic scene ended
abruptly as the sound of traditional flute music and banging of drums filled
the air as the death feast edged to a close.
Simon walked me out of the field and thanked me
for my service. I admitted to him that I wasn’t the original shaman that he had
hired and apologized for the mess I may have created. He simply smiled and pat
me on my back as he muttered two words.
“You are.”
I could feel Simon’s hand drifting away from my
body as his face started crumbling. As I watched his body evaporate into thin
air, the façade of the funeral site and his home began to disappear. Soon, I
was just alone in the middle of the field surrounded by the mountains on the
dirt road. I could hear screams of joy from a distance as my driver ran towards
me with a fuel can in hand. He asked me where have I went and he was worried
sick trying to find me.
“These areas are dangerous sir, it is home of
the Toraja tribe and you should stay away from it.”
I took one last look at my surroundings before
stepping into the car. From the corner of my eye, I saw two stars shining
brightly on the black canvas of night.
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