“Cahaya, eat that thinga of a fish that I surrender to you every night now!” grumbled Pak Zainal.
His fiery words scared a flock of crows near the guava tree that’s barren of fruits and flowers.
The flock cawed and flew afar.
But Cahaya did not seem to be perturbed.
“The other day, I walked again trying to lose myself at the edge of this village,” said Pak Zainal.
“I took that secluded trail separating this village from the forest.”
“I thought I could find a garden in a forest, perhaps, a beautiful owner of a garden in the forest.”
“I could not find one. I wish I could.”
Cahaya still purred.
“Then I found a one-eyed lady, standing in the misty part of the trail just before it sloped upward to the hill-side.”
“No, it was not a lady, but a one-eyed girl. Fancy, huh!”
The feline stopped purring.
“The girl was but an ordinary Malay who seemed to have been left behind by time.”
“She wore an old style, but clean, Malay tunic, green in color.”
“I walked nearer, and asked, what is she doing at the edge of this misty forest.”
“She did not answer.”
“She just froze there like a statue and stared at me like I was a yeti of some kind.”
“Moments went by, and no words was welcome.”
“She had only one eye, one right eye. Her left eye was closed.”
“Like her tunic, her eye was green.”
“As I waited, our eyes connected and a jolt of images streamed into my head.”
“Blue ocean, yes, it was blue ocean all over. Weird, huh!”
“A few seconds passed, and then she quickly fled into the forest mist.”
“One-eyed girl and images of a blue ocean! They left an indelible mark of mystery.”
“Was it a metaphor, Cahaya?”
The cat shook her head as if saying a “Nay!”