A BREATH OF RELIEF
Havi and Diana finally reached the gate of Loban Village.
As they arrived, Diana cut the engine and unfastened her seatbelt with a quiet click.
Stepping out, they left the car parked just outside the gate.
The narrow footpath ahead, uneven and flanked by wild grass, was far too tight to accommodate a vehicle of its size.
Havi closed the car door gently, his movements unhurried, while Diana cast a cautious glance around, ensuring the surroundings were safe before turning her gaze back to him.
"Leave your car here," Havi murmured, closing the door with deliberate care.
Diana cast a cautious glance around, her eyes sweeping over the quiet surroundings before returning to Havi.
"Are you certain it's safe to leave it here?" she asked, a trace of hesitation lacing her words.
Havi shook his head slowly, his usual air of ease unshaken, "It will be fine. You know as well as I do. There's no way a car could make it down the path to my house," he said, his gaze drifting towards the narrow, stone-strewn trail winding beyond the gate.
With a soft sigh, Diana slipped the keys from the ignition and locked the car with measured precision.
"Very well," she replied quietly.
Satisfied, Havi offered her a slight nod, "Come," he said, his voice low as he set off at an unhurried pace, keeping close to her side.
Without exchanging many words, Diana quietly followed Havi's lead.
Their footsteps rang out softly against the stillness that cloaked the village, each step a gentle interruption to the quiet.
The path ahead wound upwards, narrow and uneven, framed on either side by tall, ancient trees whose branches stretched skyward, casting shifting patterns of shadow across the earth.
Though silence lingered between them, the quiet companionship of their shared pace made the journey feel curiously lighter.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Nuriana Salim urged her car forward with a speed that bordered on the reckless.
The wind swept against the windows, a restless whisper against the glass, as the distance to Loban Village steadily diminished.
Her gaze remained unwavering, fixed upon the road ahead, vigilant for any obstacle that might impede her progress.
Yet, as she reached a fork where the path split in two, her foot eased off the accelerator, and the car slowed to a crawl.
A flicker of doubt crossed her mind. There was no sign, no marker to point her towards the correct way.
"Which way now?" she murmured under her breath, her eyes sweeping the deserted landscape in search of direction.
Such bewilderment was, perhaps, to be expected.
In 1993, road signs remained a rare luxury in many regions, particularly in rural areas such as this.
With no other recourse, Nuriana resolved to seek assistance.
She eased the car to a halt upon noticing a small group of villagers ambling along the roadside.
With an air of polite composure, she lowered the window and inquired after the way to Loban Village.
Fortune favoured her, for the villagers, amiable and obliging, offered her clear and precise directions.
Some even took the trouble to point out the swiftest route to her destination.
Having offered her thanks with quiet sincerity, Nuriana resumed her journey, the engine purring softly as she followed the path laid before her.
Her thoughts were fixed upon a single purpose, to reach Loban Village without the slightest delay.
*****
After a journey that spanned several dozen minutes, Havi and Diana finally arrived at Havi's home.
The moment they reached the front gate, a hum of activity greeted them.
Villagers clustered in small groups outside, while others moved about within the house, their quiet murmurs drifting through the open windows.
Their arrival had not gone unnoticed, nor was it without cause.
Every soul present sought a single answer, the truth of Havi's condition after his unexpected admission to Hadiyaksa Hospital the day before.
Amidst the gathering, Mr Ridho and Mrs Saras stood as the focal point, their voices weaving the tale from its perilous beginning to its fortunate end, how Havi had come to their rescue when a careening vehicle nearly claimed their lives.
"Havi pulled us to safety at the very last moment. Had he not…" Mr Ridho paused, his voice tinged with a tremor of gratitude. "I dare not imagine what might have become of us."
The villagers, hanging on every word, reacted in various ways.
Some regarded Havi with open admiration, impressed by his swift and selfless actions.
Yet others, their brows furrowed with discontent, could not conceal their ire, particularly upon hearing the name of the woman behind the wheel.
Their indignation grew sharper still at the knowledge that Nuriana Salim had escaped any form of punishment.
The matter had been quietly settled in the spirit of familial understanding.
An outcome many deemed grossly unjust, given the severity of the incident.
"There should have been proper consequences," one villager murmured, his tone edged with bitterness. "You cannot simply sweep something like this under the rug."
Havi, however, remained unperturbed. He stood amidst the rising murmurs with a calm, unwavering composure.
Disinclined, it seemed, to stir further unrest over a matter he had already chosen to leave behind.
"Ahem…" Havi's quiet cough pierced the hum of conversation, drawing the attention of his parents and the assembled villagers.
In an instant, all eyes turned towards the doorway.
"Havi!" Mrs Saras exclaimed the moment she caught sight of her son standing at the threshold.
Without hesitation, she hurried to him, her face a picture of relief, "Have they discharged you already, my dear?" she asked softly, her voice laced with maternal concern.
Havi inclined his head in a slow nod, "The hospital was dreadfully dull, Mother. I was growing tired of lying about," he remarked with a faint smile, as if attempting to dispel the weight of their worries.
Mr Ridho and Mrs Saras exchanged a glance, an unspoken exchange of gratitude that their son had returned unharmed.
The villagers, who only moments before had been murmuring with apprehension, seemed to exhale in collective relief.
Their earlier anxiety melted away as they observed Havi standing before them, alive, well, and safely home at last.
Amid the warmth of the gathering, a villager suddenly spoke, casting a knowing glance at Havi and Diana, who stood side by side.
"My, my… What a fine couple you make. May fate bind you together in marriage one day," they remarked with a playful lilt.
"Amen to that," chimed in several others, their voices rising in cheerful agreement, eager to share in the teasing.
The once-serious air gave way to laughter and light-hearted chatter, filling the space with an easy camaraderie.
Havi merely offered a faint, bashful smile, his composure faltering beneath the sudden wave of attention.
But it was Diana who seemed most undone.
A flush crept across her cheeks, warming her face as she lowered her gaze.
A telltale sign of someone unaccustomed to such bold remarks.
And yet, beneath her embarrassment, a quiet flutter stirred.
A warmth she could neither deny nor fully comprehend, kindled by the villager's well-meaning words.
At the same time, ever since hearing of Havi's misfortune, Grandfather Har had collapsed from the shock.
When he came to, he could do little but whisper the boy's name in a trembling voice, as though the mere act of speaking it aloud might somehow confirm that Havi, the grandson of his dearest friend, whom he now claimed as his own, was safe and unharmed.
Now, as his eyes fell upon Havi standing at the front of the house, Grandfather Har hastened outside, his steps quick despite his years.
His face, etched with lines of age, was drawn tight with a worry that refused to release its hold.
Without a word, he gathered Havi into a fierce embrace, as though by holding the boy close he might banish every trace of fear that had haunted him.
Havi returned the gesture with quiet warmth, offering the only comfort he could.
His steady presence, and the silent promise that he was, indeed, all right.
Once his tears had dried, Grandfather Har's usual sternness returned in full force.
With a voice as sharp as ever, he barked, "You wretched boy! Do you have any idea how worried you've made us? What would we have done if something had happened to you, hmm?!"
A few villagers shook their heads with quiet amusement, while Pak Ridho and Bu Saras exchanged knowing smiles, struggling to contain their laughter.
They were well aware that once Grandfather Har began his tirade, it would take some time before he was thoroughly satisfied.
Havi exhaled slowly, as though bracing himself, "I'm sorry, Grandfather Har," he said softly, his voice laced with genuine remorse, though there was an undeniable warmth in his words.
"Hmph! Enough of that! Come inside!" the old man grumbled, though the relief behind his brusque tone was unmistakable.
Yet, just as he turned to enter the house, his gaze fell upon Diana, who stood quietly beside Havi.
"And who might this be, Havi? Your sweetheart?" he demanded, wasting no time with pleasantries.
Caught off guard, Havi could only let out a sheepish chuckle, "Ah… well… she's…" he faltered, casting a glance towards Diana, as if hoping she might spare him the need to explain.
Diana, for her part, returned his look with uncertainty.
There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, as though even she was unsure how to respond.
"Oh, never mind! Save your explanations for inside!" Grandfather Har snapped, already turning on his heel and disappearing through the doorway.
Gradually, the crowd outside began to thin. Now that their worries had been laid to rest, the villagers drifted away in ones and twos, murmuring their farewells as they went.
At last, the house grew quiet once more, leaving Havi and Diana to follow Grandfather Har inside.
Where, no doubt, his scolding would continue in earnest.