In my village of Tana Toraja, Indonesia, deaths aura blow like the wind. If you see a piece of white fabric waving in the front yard of Tongkonan, our traditional house, it means there is a man who is still alive, but dead; “to makula”. Here, death is celebrated with a price that is not cheap. This is the consequence.
It’s been ten years that my Dad has been lying in a wooden coffin, waiting for the death ceremony “rambu solo” that has not been done by the family. We didn’t have enough money to attempt it, until now.
The sun is crawling from its bed. I see Mom having breakfast with Dad who is still sick, lifeless in his coffin. Is he suffering?
“Good morning Mom. I have to go.”
The shining sun is coming through a slit in the wall and falls on Mom’s boney body. Her loose dress looks dusty.
“Be careful son. Hope your work today will be blessed; blessing from the sky.” Mom answered like a prayer.
I see her face without sorrow although she is suffering for a long time. Maybe because the hole in her heart slowly recovering. She accompanied me to the door. I know she always hopes I will be home soon so I can get money for Dad’s funeral ceremony. Is she tired of nursing Dad?
This Tongkonan is all we have. Mom is only Dad’s second wife. I heard the family was disagreeing when they married and my step siblings accepted it with provision of becoming heir of their departed mom’s wealth. Now Dad has no wealth, even for his own funeral ceremony. His other child doesn’t care about him. Leaving Mom and I are left to bear the burden. But, I don’t know how long we can hold on.
I’m going home with more money than usual, even though I didn’t serve as tour guide today. My wood carvings almost sold out and some of Mom’s weaving fabrics are bought by local and foreign tourist that passing by. It is almost six in the afternoon, but the sun is still shining brightly. However, there was a surprise when I opened the door.
Oline Mendeng had come to visit; she had become an employee in the town. I rarely see her after she moved following her parents. We sit in kolong alang, a place to sit under the Tongkonan. Instead of joy, her face darkens, bringing bad news.
“Tino, he want to propose me soon,” she said reluctantly. I always like her lip - it looks like my favorite blossom. But now, it poisons me.
“You will accept it?” I gather my broken feelings.
“I only have little time to think,” she said, starting to sob.
“Just say it, that we can’t continue this.” I crashed in agony.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m the one that should say sorry.”
Oline Mendeng walked away slowly until I cannot see her anymore. She brought me grief, or relief? She seems unfaithful.
At the end of the day, dusk come and immediately a dark shadow comes from west. I’m looking at hills in the north that full with cliffs. Rocky mountains with giant bushes in their feet. Maybe there is where all the spirits rest. Everything that has died living there, like afterlife. Is Dad longing to rest like them? What does it look like in puya, the afterlife?
Until when I have to bare? My savings will never be enough, doesn’t matter how hard I try. I’m sorry Dad, for complaining. I’m broken hearted, maybe hopeless. Mom is still stubborn.
“It’s forbidden to have a wedding ceremony before the death ceremony is held. Your dad is sick. His soul is still hanging there in uncertainty.” Mom said like it was Dad’s will. But I know that is what she wants.
“Why? Does it violate the customs?” I don’t know why I am questioning the customs that I believe with all my heart.
“It is the same as you asking for your right without doing your duty as the child.” Mom said in a high voice.
“Dad said death is what life is for. This world is only a transit and death is the door, to puya; the real life.” I tried to explain.
“Yes, that’s true. And then?” Mom asked me to clarify.
“Dad said to find wealth for death. So when I die, I will not trouble my child. Dad should be like that.” I dropped my gaze, embarrassed of my sassiness. I feel regret. I was afraid to look at Mom - she looked at me with hatred; she didn’t expect me to say that.
“Mom taught you enough, Tino.” She called my name as if I’m not her son anymore. I can hear her exhale in disappointment. “Your Dad needs a key to open the door of puya, rambu solo; the death ceremony. To journey there, he needs transportation, tedong bonga, so he can arrive faster.”
“I think some pigs and a buffalo are enough, Mom. Tedong bonga  is hundreds of millions in price. We cannot afford it.”
“How dare you! Your Dad was an aristocrat, not an ordinary people. If only that, Mom could do rambu solo a long time ago. Not have to wait until now. Listen Tino, this is not just a ceremony, but honoring the dignity. You know that! Your Dad can be lost because of you.” Mom’s sounds angry.
“I will be more proud if you go to Papua. You will get more money there than here. Or you can die there, I don’t care.” Mom hasn’t stop talking.
“You would not be in this world if your Dad didn’t ask for you to be born.” Mom said. My breath become hot. I imagined she wanted an abortion and then bury me under the tree, but Dad prevented it. You didn’t want me, is that true?
“You can marry, but not in this Tongkonan and without my blessing,” she threaten me. And then she went to where we keep Dad, it’s her habit to cry there. Mourning for Dad and fate, or the past that always she tightly kept.
Night is really dark. Some of the family and neighbor come. We play cards until late. I served them coffee and small snacks. Silence and cold are spreading.
“Tino Tuan, this is not all your burden, and decision is on your neglectful step siblings.” Said Tota Dara. He is my uncle from Mom’s side and Dad’s friend in the elders of tribe.
“They are not like the Torajan. They are drunk in other land until they forget about their own village.” Said Ukka, one of my friend.
“Your only duty is to remind them, even if you have to bare the lament and delay happiness in this Tongkonan.” Tota Dara continued. Make a big question in my mind. Is there any secret that you are keeping?
We continue discussing, but I’m not interested anymore. They try to persuade me.
“Call your step siblings to come home. They have to finish this soon. We are ready to help. We will make a proposal to the local government to make it part of tourism program for Christmas and new year. We will donate pigs and buffalos. And you can fulfill the rest.”
Ah, this will be moral debt. It will be a shame if I cannot turn it back, when one of them isdead. Is this death ceremony still sacred? They ask to leave.
“Your mother finds it hard to make peace with her past. She sinned in the past and seek for safety. Peoples in the village didn’t expell her. Look at your family tree,” Aunt Ella whispered to me before going home. Beside my step siblings, from what I know Dad ever  married with rich widow with one child that I never met and never know where he is.
Dad, from where I have to see our family? Now I’m falling asleep beside you. Wish for an answer.
“Why did Dad marry Mom?” I asked like his soul still in his body.
“Because I loved your Mom.”
Long enough I stare at Dad. I look carefully.
“Did Mom love Dad?”
I feel something weird about Dad. Because he was too old to become my Dad.
“Ask your Mother.”
He smiled without teeth. I awake.
My morning start with a guest in our Tongkonan. Noisy, Mom’s loud voice fills the yard when I go downstairs. The man looks like local tourist with bulky body. Mom’s body shaken, blocking him from entering the house.
“I have right for this Tongkonan house, I’m the heir!” He saiid without remove his riben sunglasses.
“Who are you?” I stepped forward to cover Mom.
“I’m the child of my Mom, the first wife of your Dad. I will sell this Tongkonan. There is a buyer that wants this house. The certificate is still under my name.” He explained.
“Gamaliel, the heir changed since you were gone without a word. Let the customs decide.” Mom insist.
“Who is the heir? You?”
“No. Tino Tuan, your son.”
I see water in Mom’s eyes. The man widened his eyes to me and I wake from astonishment when Mom almost falls, passing out. I hug my frail Mom.