Indonesian Gold (37 page)

‘We can use English now, if you wish?' he
offered.

‘No, not now,'
she
replied shaking her head,
‘besides, it makes me think too much and I'd end up with a
headache.'

‘Well, we can't have that. Perhaps we'll have the
opportunity some other time, then?'

‘When are you returning to Jakarta?'

Stewart shrugged.
‘I had planned on going back sometime
tomorrow but, as it's the weekend, I thought I might stay, and drive back on Sunday.'
He
smiled warmly at Angela.
‘Are you busy over the weekend?'

Angela looked up, feigning surprise.
‘Are you inviting
me out?'

Stewart did not hesitate.
‘Yes, why not? We could have
lunch at the Homan, if you like.'

‘Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to ask
Nani?'
she baited.

He shook his head.
‘I'm sure.'

With her name still on their lips, Nani stepped up and
took Stewart's hand.

‘Ayo, handsome, dance with me!'
Nani cajoled.

‘Don't know if I am up to it,'
Stewart pleaded, but Nani dragged him away in spite of his protests.

****

Angela was impressed; Stewart Campbell swayed
rhythmically, his tall, thin form standing head and shoulders above the others in the cramped
quarters and she smiled back to him, acknowledging the wink he threw in her direction. When the
tempo slowed, Angela was surprised at her sudden pang of envy as Nani pressed closer into
Campbell's body, relieved that he held her at bay. The tempo slowed further, Angela pleased when
the American abandoned the floor and a dismayed Nani, returning to her side.

‘This is one of my favorites,'
Campbell
explained, taking Angela's hands in his. She did
not resist, suppressing a giggle when she sighted Nani's playful face and poked tongue from the
corner of her eye, moving into his arms as the lights dimmed, and the golden voice of Bob
Tutu-poly singing
Wuduri,
filled the room. Their bodies pressed together as the number
dancing increased, and Angela found herself humming the familiar song, content to be where she
was at that very moment. She felt her partner's hand move down to her waist and did not resist,
but moments later, conscious of how close their bodies had become, she pulled away – suddenly
uncomfortable with what she was feeling.

The cloying fragrance of clove cigarettes hung heavily in
the air as the lounge continued to fill, guests spilling out into the garden, when someone inside
turned the tape off and broke into song, drawing instant applause from all present. Campbell knew
that it was considered mandatory to participate in the traditional,
jali-jali
verse,
opting immediately to join those who had made their way to the jasmine-filled air outside. He
steered Angela away from the room, unaware of the envious glances and comments which followed,
relieved to be able to converse, finally, without shouting. There, in the courtyard, with the
moon casting its spell from above, they stood facing each other, Campbell increasingly drawn by
Angela's intoxicating presence. Separated from the other guests by a bougainvillea-covered
trellis, he moved close to her side, raised her hand and kissed her softly on the cheek, unaware
that he was entering into a courtship ritual with the psychic and mystical world.

‘Please...please don't,'
Angela turned her head, anxious that others had seen.

Stewart continued holding her hand.
‘I'm
sorry,Angela.That was stupid of me.'

Slowly, she withdrew her hand from his.
‘Do you always
try to kiss

girls you have just met?'

‘Only when they are as beautiful as you,'
he tried.

‘You should ask, first,'
the reprimand was aloof.

‘You might have said no,'
he argued in defense.

‘I would most definitely have said no,
' Angela crossed her arms in defiance.

Suspecting that this was not true, Campbell decided on
another tack.
‘Shall we start again?'

‘I don't think so,'
she
leaned back and peered into another corner of the garden.

‘Well?'
he asked,
‘will you come to lunch with me?'
But he could see that she was now distracted by the
couple sitting together on white, wrought iron garden chairs under moon-cast shadow not ten
meters away and, out of curiosity, followed her gaze.

‘They are taking putauw,'
Angela whispered, her hand gripping Campbell's forearm tightly.

‘Putauw?'
he asked,
unfamiliar with the expression.

‘It's heroin,'
she
explained, turning away from the scene.
‘Let's go back inside, please.'

‘They're taking drugs, here?'
Campbell
's voice was filled with concern. He had read that
Indonesia's drug users now exceeded three million, most of who were still in their
teens.

‘Yes,'
she sighed
heavily
,‘it's all over the campus.That,'
she paused,
‘and shabu-shabu.'

‘Which is?'
Stewart was
confused, recalling that the term referred to the thinly sliced Japanese beef dish.

‘Crystal methamphetamine,'
Angela shook her head, glancing once more over at the university students.
‘They call
it shabu-shabu – I don't know why.'

‘Do you want to leave?'
he asked, placing both hands comfortingly on her upper arms. Her flesh was cold and he
turned her gently, away from the distressing scene.

‘Yes, but you can remain if you wish.'

‘I'll take you home,'
he offered, urging Angela with one hand cupped under an elbow, leading her back
inside.

Campbell
led the way,
squeezing through the congested mass. Someone dug his ribs playfully, and he turned.

‘Hey,‘Gela,'
Nani
called,
‘you're not leaving already, are you?'

Angela stretched, leaning close to her friend's face and
whispered something. Nani glanced outside, and nodded unhappily.

‘Will you be alright for a lift if we leave you
here?'
Stewart all but shouted.

‘You can come with us now, if you want,'
Angela suggested, accepting that it would be most unlikely that Nani would
want to leave, even if drugs were being taken on the premises.

‘
No,‘Gela. I'll be all right.We can catch up later if
you like
.'

‘Okay,‘Ni,'
Angela
patted her friend's hand,
‘but be careful of what you are drinking – promise?'
There had
been a spate of incidents with female students being drugged, then raped.

‘Sure,‘Gela,'
Nani
agreed,
‘I'll be careful,'
immediately falling back into the rhythmic swaying motions
demanded by the intoxicating music.

Stewart escorted Angela out through the entrance and front
gate where his taxi driver congregated with a number of others, leaning against their vehicles
enjoying the sounds emanating from inside. Caught off guard, the man leapt to open the taxi's
door for his fare.

‘Would you like to go straight home or come back to the
Savoy Hoyman for coffee?'
Stewart Campbell asked. Angela seemed
to consider her options before responding.

‘You don't think it's too late for me to be visiting a
hotel?'

‘We can sit in the lounge and talk for a while, if you
wish. I can have the driver take you home when you're ready.'

‘I've never been inside the Hoyman,'
she said,
‘and I'm not really comfortable being seen entering a hotel,
particularly at night, and especially…
' her voice trailed off, Stewart detecting her
embarrassment.

‘Especially with a foreigner?'
he quipped, his face then cracking wide in the semi-darkness.

This was greeted with an uncomfortable pause, and then,
‘You're not offended?'

With this, Campbell reached over and squeezed her hand
gently.

‘No. Not at all. If you prefer, I could drop you off
first, on my way?'

Angela agreed, and gave the driver her address.

The taxi headed back towards Bandung central, Angela in
pensive mood. Then, as the driver slowed and pulled into the student accommodations' gravel
driveway, she turned to Campbell and said, in the clearest English, ‘I hope you understand,
Stewart, but I don't want you to have the wrong impression about me.'

‘It's okay, Angela,' he assured her. ‘How about I meet you
here tomorrow, and we go out somewhere for that lunch?'

Angela then fell back into Indonesian, whispering so the
driver could not hear.
‘Thank you Stewart, I would like that.You could keep this taxi so you
won't get lost.'

‘I'll be here around midday, then.'
Campbell
moved to exit the car as Angela opened
her door, the vehicle's interior immediately lit with a soft yellow glow.

‘Don't get out,'
she
asked earnestly,
‘it's getting late.'

Stewart reached into his wallet, Angela's face instantly
clouding, misconstruing the imminent gesture.

‘Please, don't!'
she
all but shouted.

Puzzled, he hesitated, then slowly extracted a card and
offered this to her.
‘It has my cell number – in case you can't make it
tomorrow.'

Embarrassed, Angela accepted the card, thanked him again,
and hurried indoors. Campbell's eyes followed until she disappeared, annoyed with himself for his
earlier mistake back in the garden setting, but now reasonably confident that he could win her
trust, given the opportunity.

****

Alone with the abandoned foreigner, the driver wasted
little time in offering to take the
Tuan
to a number of bars where, he assured, Stewart
would not be disappointed with the young ladies.

‘The girls are very beautiful,Tuan,'
the driver urged,
‘and you won't have any trouble with security at the
Hoyman.'
Stewart Campbell glanced at the time.

It was still early, and he refused to spend the remainder
of this evening sitting in a hotel room viewing censored television – the alternative would at
least help him kill some time.

‘Okay, Mas,'
he tapped
the driver on the shoulder,
‘forget the beautiful women, just take me down to one of the local
bars.'

****

Angela had watched the taxi leave from the darkness of her
room, saddened that the evening had ended so. She undressed, climbed between well-worn cotton
sheets and lay on her side wondering what might have been, permitting her thoughts to wander as
she lay there curled alone. Recalling Campbell's soft touch, his hand now hers, as fingers
traveled slowly circling her breasts then traveled down to where no man had ever been, she
touched herself gently, and moaned.

Overhead, the moon's brilliance was snuffed under
gathering, rain-filled clouds, and Angela fell into rehearsed trance, the day's events soon
twisting into distorted imagery, before blending into impossible dreams.

****

Campbell
came awake with a
start, his dry and scratchy throat demanding water. Vaguely, he recalled that his companion had
complained about the airconditioning being too cold, the compromise resulting in their opening
the suite's windows. Groping for the
Evian
water, his hand brushed the bedside thermos in
the darkness – the heavy metallic thud accompanied by shattered glass causing him to pause, his
compulsion to laugh a clear signal that he was drunk. Bewildered by his condition, he attempted
to rise only to be coaxed back by the caress of a soft, moist, experienced tongue gliding slowly
down his firm stomach, the tantalizing effect causing instant arousal. He shuddered, once, the
consuming warmth of the girl's mouth teasing, moments before she mounted him, thrusting down
heavily as they grunted, loins locked in heated race. Impatient, the girl placed an arm under
Campbell's back and, with rehearsed motion, rolled to one side, placing him firmly on top and
between her thighs, then began stroking the length of his back with long, sharp fingernails as he
fought against the deep, demanding tide, rising from within.

****