1.
That morning in Bandung, in September 1990, after getting off the public minibus, I walked to school like everyone else.
I was walking alone. From behind, I heard the sound of a motorcycle. It was quite loud, and as far as I can remember, not many students rode motorcycles to school at that time.
When the motorcycle drew level with me, it slowed down, as if deliberately trying to match my walking speed. The rider was wearing a high school uniform.
Even though there were many people on their way to school, I remained alert, worried that he might try to harm me.
She asked, "Good morning."
"Morning," I replied, glancing at her briefly.
"You're Aura, right?"
"Eh?" I looked at her again, checking to see if I recognized her.
I didn't, so I answered, "Yes."
"Can I tell you a fortune?"
"A fortune?" I was immediately surprised by her question. Why, a fortune? Why, not acquaintances?
"Yes," she said. "I'll tell you a fortune. We'll meet in the cafeteria later."
He must have been joking, but I didn't want to. I mean, I don't want to joke around with people I don't know. But I didn't know what to say. I could only smile, maybe that was enough, just to make small talk. Don't be mean, hey, New Student. Yeah.
Honestly, I don't know who he is. I really don't.
He might be in the same school as me, but I don't know all the students at my school, including him.
I'm only a new student. It's only been two weeks.
"Want to come?" he asked.
"Thanks," I replied.
How nice, he's already asking me to ride his motorcycle. I looked at him briefly, just to say:
"You're close."
"Okay," he said. "One day, you'll ride my motorcycle. Trust me."
I kept quiet, not knowing what to say.
"Go ahead!" he said.
I used facial expressions to express "yes."
After that, he left, speeding off on his motorcycle.
His uniform was visible in the air; if the teacher had found out, he would have told him to tuck it in his pants.
2.
During break, I was going to the cafeteria, but not to fulfill that kid's prophecy.
Never mind, I didn't even think about it.
I just wanted to buy something to drink.
But Nandan, my classmate and the student president of class 2 Biology 3, asked to chat with me, saying he had something to discuss.
He said if I wanted a drink, it was easy; he could buy it. I said "Thanks," and he went to the cafeteria. He returned shortly with some tea bags.
In class, besides Nandan, there were also Rani and Agus, all classmates. The topic of discussion was their desire to appoint me as secretary and treasurer of class 2 Biology 3. I was okay with that. That was easy for me.
While we were chatting, someone came in, excused themselves, and entered the classroom. Nandan, Rani, and Agus all knew who it was.
The man, named Piyan, a student from class 2 Physics 1, came to give me a letter. He said it was a letter from a friend, but he didn't mention the friend's name.
With a little surprise, after Piyan left, I read the letter:
"Aura, my prediction, which was that we would meet in the cafeteria, turned out to be wrong. I'm sorry. But I want to tell my fortune again tomorrow. We'll meet."
I immediately knew who sent the letter. It had to be him, the guy who had come by on his motorbike this morning and said he wanted to tell his fortune.
Nandan asked what the letter was, but I told him it was just a normal letter.
I immediately stuffed the letter into my school bag, ready to return to listening to Nandan's blabbering, which I found boring.
From then on, I couldn't concentrate on their words. My thoughts, for some reason, for the most part, suddenly drifted to the Oracle.
3.
It was a rainy day after school. My uncle picked me up. He was my father's younger brother, a final-year Architecture student at a private university in Bandung. His name was Fariz. He had been in Bandung for a while and was boarding in the Setiabudi area.
My father asked my uncle to pick me up so I could hurry to his official residence, as he had something to run.
On the way home, somehow, the prophecy that said we would meet tomorrow kept coming back to me.
4.
What? We're meeting tomorrow? Isn't tomorrow Sunday? I could immediately guess: his prediction was bound to fail again. How could we meet if not at school? From the start, I knew he was an amateur fortune teller! He was just a bad boy who liked to tease girls.
Huh!
Or if that was a ploy for him to get close to me, he should soon learn that I'm a selective person.
5.
One Sunday, while I was washing my shoes, I heard the doorbell ring, signaling a guest was having a massage. I called Auntie to attend to her.
Coincidentally, that day, it was just Auntie and me at home. My father, mother, and youngest sibling were in Cijerah for a relative's wedding.
Auntie rushed to meet the guest, then returned to me:
"Guest," she said. "I'm going to see Lia."
Lia is my nickname at home.
I washed the suds off my hands and went straight there to meet the guest.
Oh my God, I was shocked; it turned out to be the Fortune Teller.
I smiled at him, who smiled back at me. Suddenly, I felt like we were making a spiritual connection, discussing his predictions that had come true.
"Hey," I greeted him.
"I have an invitation," he said immediately, handing me an envelope while still standing there in front of the door.
"What invitation?" I looked at the envelope.
"Read it," he said. "But later."
"Okay."
"Read it in Arabic, Yan?"
He asked Piyan, who had come with him.
"What?" Piyan asked back.
"Oh! Iqra," he said, answering his own question.
"Iqra, Aura!"
I laughed, but only slightly. For some reason, I could only look him in the eye occasionally.
"I'll be right there, okay?"
He excused himself to leave.
"How come you know my house?" I asked.
"I'll also know when your birthday is."
"He he he."
"I also know who your God is."
"Allah," I answered myself.
"Yes, right?"
"He he he."
"I'll go now, okay?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Assalamu alaikum, isn't it?!" he asked.
"Assalamu alaikum," I replied.
"Alaikum salam," he said.
"He he he."
6.
Oh my God, who the hell is he!
I mean, besides being a fortune teller, I wonder who he really is, and why was I so nervous in front of him?
I went into my room and smiled to myself, especially thinking about his correct prediction. But why didn't he bring it up? Discussing the prediction? Or was it on purpose? Ah, I don't know.
I read his invitation letter while lying on my bed.
It was a typewriter-written invitation on HVS paper.
"Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious and Most Merciful. I hereby, with great feeling, invite Aura Adnan to school on: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday."
All the days on the schedule were named, complete with dates. I smiled.
Inside was a name: Mr. Hamid Amidjaya. That was the name of my principal, who also invited me. I asked for forgiveness!
On each side of the paper, there were decorative drawings. It was drawn with a marker. The drawing is beautiful. I don't know who made it. I like it.
After reading it, I don't understand why I immediately felt like I didn't want to get out of bed, like someone being held captive by curiosity, wanting to know who he really was.
As I lay there, I felt like I was daydreaming, staring at the ceiling of my room.
When I imagined his face, I immediately closed my eyes, trying to chase it away, because I felt it was unnecessary and unimportant!
7.
Ah, damn.
That almost made me forget to continue washing my shoes. I quickly put the letter in my desk drawer, smiling to myself, and went straight to the bathroom to find my shoes.
I washed them with her in my mind, and tried to forget her by singing.
But it was hard; I still thought about her, even occasionally.
Oh, who is she?
As far as I know, she goes to the same school as me, but not in the same class. That's all. But I don't know her name. Why didn't she tell me her name when we first met? Should I have asked her?
Oh, sorry, I didn't want to!
8.
I heard the house phone ring. I was happy, because it was Beni, my boyfriend in Jakarta. He went to school with me back in Jakarta, and now we're in a long-distance relationship.
My Beni is cool, you should know that. He's handsome, though not incredibly handsome, but good enough, and I think he's nice. His father is a famous film actor, which I sometimes brag about to my parents and friends.
Beni loves me very much. I love him too. Even though we fight a lot, they're always small issues and we always resolve them amicably, even if they end up fighting again.
Almost every day, Beni calls me to express his longing and other things.