I GIVE MY PERMISSION

Mr Ridho and Mrs Saras, observing the warmth unfolding between Grandpa Har, Havi, and Diana, could only offer quiet smiles of relief.

A gentle sense of ease settled within them, as though a weight they had long carried had, at last, begun to lift.

Mrs Saras cast a soft glance towards her husband, leaning in to murmur, "If your father were still with us, he would be so pleased to see this, wouldn't he?"

There was a delicate tremor in her voice, a trace of longing that time had not entirely erased.

Mr Ridho turned his gaze to his wife. His expression touched by a quiet understanding.

He released a slow breath before offering a measured nod.

"Without question," he replied. "Were he here, the house would feel warmer, more whole."

A gentle stillness settled between them, broken only by the distant murmur of conversation.

Yet beneath their shared smiles lay the shadow of memory, of a man whose absence was still quietly felt.

A man who, had fate allowed, would have welcomed this moment with a heart brimming with pride and joy.

And though the space he once occupied could never truly be filled, the scene before them, the laughter, the unspoken bonds, stood as a quiet testament to the enduring power of family.

In love, as in memory, nothing is ever truly lost.

A few moments later, Grandpa Har fixed his gaze on Havi, his eyes glinting with curiosity before he finally spoke.

"Well then, lad. How is it? Have you given more thought to your plan with the waterwheel?" he asked, his tone a blend of curiosity and quiet encouragement.

Havi let out a long, heavy sigh, as if the weight on his mind refused to ease.

"Yes. The plan is still there, though it's been delayed a little because of yesterday's incident," he admitted, recalling the accident that had nearly cost him his life.

He fell silent for a brief moment before continuing, "I'll need quite a bit of money to make it happen. And right now… well, you know my situation, Grandpa." His voice grew quieter, laced with the worry he tried to suppress.

Grandpa Har nodded slowly, his expression softening with understanding.

Yet, beneath that understanding lay a flicker of pride, a quiet admiration for the young man before him.

"For someone your age to think about improving this village… that's already something remarkable, lad," he said, his voice warm with sincerity.

He gave Havi's shoulder a gentle pat, as though offering a measure of strength through that simple gesture.

"Don't lose heart! If you truly believe in it, there's always a way," he added, his words brimming with encouragement.

Havi merely gave a small nod, though deep down, he knew that turning his vision into reality would be anything but easy.

Meanwhile, beside Havi, Diana suddenly remembered something crucial.

Something that might be the answer to Havi's predicament.

"Ah! How could I forget?!" Diana exclaimed abruptly, her voice slicing through the quiet room.

Havi flinched, startled by her sudden outburst.

Grandfather Har, Mr Ridho, and Mrs Saras all turned their heads towards her, their faces filled with curiosity.

"What is it, Diana? What did you forget?" Havi asked, still puzzled by her reaction.

"My uncle!" Diana blurted out, as if she had just stumbled upon a missing piece of an important puzzle.

Havi furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of her words, "You mean Uncle Haryo?" he asked for clarification.

Diana nodded firmly, "Do you remember when I came to your school? I was actually carrying a message from Uncle Haryo," she explained, her tone now serious.

Havi fell silent for a moment, recalling their meeting at school not long ago.

"Oh, that's right. I remember. So, what was the message?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Diana drew in a deep breath before speaking again.

"Uncle Haryo… he wants to discuss a partnership with you regarding those raw materials," she said, her words deliberate and measured.

"A partnership?" Havi echoed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to grasp the meaning behind her statement.

Diana nodded once more, "Uncle Haryo wants you to become the main supplier of gutta-percha for his factory," she revealed, letting the weight of her words hang in the air.

Havi's eyes widened in astonishment at the unexpected offer.

Yet, Diana was not finished. With a tone edged with quiet conviction, she added, "And… Uncle Haryo is willing to pay a generous price for the raw material."

Her words ignited a spark of hope within Havi, a hope he had almost abandoned.

If Uncle Haryo was truly serious about this partnership, then his dream of building a waterwheel for Loban Village might no longer be a distant ambition but a reality within his grasp.

"That's splendid!" Havi exclaimed suddenly, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes at the mention of Uncle Haryo's offer.

Turning swiftly towards Grandpa Har, he asked with barely contained eagerness, "What do you think, Grandpa? Isn't this a marvellous opportunity?"

Grandpa Har, however, merely regarded him with a puzzled expression.

"To be frank, lad, I've not the faintest idea what you're on about," he said, his brow knitting into a frown.

Havi exhaled a quiet sigh, muttering under his breath, "Typical of the old."

A hearty laugh escaped Grandpa Har's lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I may be an old man, lad, but my ears still work perfectly well," he retorted, entirely unruffled.

Havi ran a hand across the back of his neck, sensing the need to lay everything bare.

After a brief pause, he drew a deep breath and declared with deliberate calmness, "Diana, allow me to reveal the truth."

Diana arched an eyebrow, intrigue flickering across her face, "The truth?" she repeated, her tone laced with curiosity.

With a solemn nod, Havi pressed on, "You recall the marsh, don't you? And the hundreds of percha trees that stand sentinel around it?"

"I do," Diana affirmed without hesitation. "But what has any of that to do with this?" she asked, her interest sharpening.

Havi fell quiet for a moment, casting a brief glance towards Grandfather Har before speaking again.

His voice, though softer, carried a weight that seemed to fill the room.

"That marsh," he began, drawing out the words with deliberate care, "was never natural. It was crafted, built by hand. And those gutta-percha trees? They didn't simply sprout from the earth on their own. Someone planted them there."

Diana's breath caught. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and for a moment, she seemed unable to find her voice.

"What?!!" she managed at last, her tone edged with both shock and a trace of disappointment. "Does that mean… the agreement is off?!!"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Havi's lips as he shook his head, "There's no need to call it off," he said, his voice steady, resolute.

"Then…?" Diana's question hung in the air, fragile and uncertain.

"The person who made the marsh," Havi continued, his words measured, as though each one carried a deeper truth, "the one who planted those trees…" He paused, allowing the tension to swell, the silence itself becoming part of the revelation.

His gaze drifted once more to Grandfather Har before he lifted a hand and pointed, without hesitation, without doubt.

"One of them is still here. Alive and well."

The colour drained from Diana's face as the truth struck her.

Her lips parted in sheer astonishment, her voice rising in disbelief.

"What?!" The word burst from her, half a gasp, half a cry.

Grandfather Har, unperturbed, let the moment stretch.

A knowing smile softened his weathered face, his eyes gleaming with quiet pride.

"I must admit," he said at last, his tone light with amusement, "I do rather enjoy a bit of praise."

Diana regarded Grandfather Har with an intent gaze, her curiosity sharpened by the weight of his revelation.

"Grandfather Har, is it true? Was it really you who created the marsh and planted the gutta-percha trees?" she asked once more, as though the truth might slip away if left unspoken.

A quiet, knowing laugh rumbled from Grandfather Har's chest, a sound warm with both pride and nostalgia.

"Indeed, child," he said at last, his voice rich with memory.

"Every word Havi has spoken is true. It was I, together with Havi's grandfather, who shaped the marsh and planted those trees long ago," he confessed, as though the past had only just returned to him.

With a slow, deliberate hand, he stroked the white beard that framed his face, his eyes distant.

"You mentioned your uncle was willing to pay handsomely for the sap, did you not?" His lips curled into a faint smile.

"Very well. I accept his terms, and he shall have my permission," he declared, his tone firm, brooking no argument.

For a brief moment, the old man fell silent, his thoughts drifting far beyond the walls that enclosed them.

"Were Sudirjo, Havi's grandfather still among us, he would grant his blessing without a second thought," he added softly, his voice tinged with the melancholy that only the passing of time can bring.

His eyes grew glassy, clouded with the ache of remembrance, a friend lost to the years but never to the heart.

Diana released a breath she had not realised she was holding, the tension easing from her shoulders.

"At last…" she whispered, and a quiet smile touched her lips, soft and certain, like the promise of better days to come.