White.

The dove in her arms that coos every now and then, the lavish gown she wears which rim waves around her pale thighs, and their garden’s pride frangipani flower that tucked in behind her ear, everything is white in color.

White.

The color of innocence, the symbol of purity and divinity, the sign of beginning and the new, but for her it is the opposite.

Something is wrong with him. He looks so pale; the tips of his fingers are cold.

Still, she tries to refuse to admit the truth.

When does he never this white, he has lost color from suffer a chronic illness since he was a child and spends too little time in the sun, and he always sighs quietly about the cold whenever he thinks she can’t hear him.

But so do his shoulders, his chest and his legs, cold even though he is buried under layers of thick blankets. His colorless thick lips are also too humanly impossible. On top of that, she doesn’t see any motion on his chest to moves the air in and out of his lungs, can’t feel his soft breaths tickling her shaking forefinger that she puts under his nose.

That morning Hayoung wakes with her husband lies stiff next to her.

-

Mesatia in dialect, fidelity in the meaning, implemented in the form of a rite where the noble widow takes important part in it, held in the same time with husband cremation ritual.

The widow has to make her decision by the eighth day after her husband's death. Be that as it may, there’s no option for Hayoung.

-

Settled in her room –her and her late husband’s room–, Hayoung’s days are desolate with only visits from Aunty Bae and Grannie Ong. One is a loyal domestic assistant of his husband’s family who sends food for her in the morning, noon and night; the other one is an old curt priestess of their village who practically never leave her side since Madam Kim sets the date for mesatia.

Hayoung still can’t get the drift of why does Madam Kim is the one who make the decision about mesatia. It is true that she is her husband’s mother, but she is not the one who will do it, Hayoung is –and for her it’s enough reason to put the decision in her hands. But Madam Kim is the one ruling The Kims household, what she wants then she will get.

-

“Why should I? I don’t know our tribe still does such a rite. Isn’t it already forgotten for years?” Hayoung asks Grannie Ong in their first meeting, the first afternoon after her husband confirmed to be dead –the family doctor blames it on his sickness.

“Why shouldn’t you? It will bring honor, worth of highest spiritual state ever. A woman who does the mesatia will become a Satyawati, The True One, a deity. Doesn’t every woman want it? Don’t you want it, become a goddess?” Grannie Ong replies as she chews on betel, her reddish saliva pools on the corner of her lips –Hayoung turns her head away at the sight as bile starts rise in . She doesn’t know about other women, but she certainly doesn’t want it.

“It’s not forgotten, dear, just rarely done. The ceremony is costly, only the rich like The Kims are able to host it,” Aunty Bae says on the next morning as she sends in the breakfast. That middle-aged woman even hasn’t cremate her husband who died seven years ago, his deceased body lies under Taru Menyan tree behind the hills, together with the bodies of other villagers whose family are too poor to fill their children’s stomach, let alone to held the cremation ceremony.

“You are so lucky, Hayoung-ah. Soon you’ll meet your husband again, you’ll unite with him in hereafter for eternity, what will you regret?” Aunty Bae still tries to console Hayoung.

The breakfast rejected by the young widow –also the lunch and the dinner, how can she eat if she knows what wait for her in a week. Unite with her husband again in hereafter for eternity is the last thing Hayoung wants. Their marriage does not come from love, at least not from Hayoung’s side. Young and passionate, Hayoung still has dreams to be attained. She hasn’t even graduated from college yet when Sunggyu asks for her nine and half months ago. She doesn’t know him, other than he is seven years older than her and the only son of The Kims. Hayoung doesn’t want to be bound to the village; she has a wish, to see the other side of this world. She wants to refuse his proposal.

But no one turns The Kims down, not when the said family is the stakeholder of their village. Their tea fields cover all the hillsides, more than half of the villagers are their men, either as workers in between the tea bushes or servants in their residence. Hayoung’s father is just a secondary foreman, one rejection from Hayoung and he will be deposed in a blink of eye. No doubt in it, and once someone get the ax, there’s no chance for him to get another job, not in that village.

So, it leaves no option for Oh Hayoung but to take Kim Sunggyu’s offer of marriage. Retires from her college, she comes back to her village and becomes Kim Hayoung.

-

“Where do you think you are going?”

Hayoung gasps, startles as a hand grabs her shoulder in sudden. The same hand then turns her body harshly, and Grannie Ong comes to her view.

Every night, one hour after Aunty Bae picks what left from her dinner, Grannie Ong will be summoned by Madam Kim to make her report about Hayoung, and leaves the young widow alone in her room for exactly fifteen minutes. On the fourth night, Hayoung, who finally able to sniff about the wont, takes the opportunity to sneak away. Alas, that night the priestess comes back sooner than usual and catches her ten steps from her doorway.

“My mother,” Hayoung blurts the first word passes her mind, though actually that’s not her real intention. She just wants to run, away from the rite, away from The Kims and away from that village, even if it means she has to go away from her family too. “I want to see my mother.”

“I beg you, Ma’am, let me see my family for the last time,” Hayoung begs Madam Kim, who comes out from her chamber because of the commotion caused by Hayoung and Grannie Ong on the corridor.

Hayoung is not supposed to get out from her room, she is not supposed to meet anyone aside the priestess who required to constantly encourage her to her immolate, but with Aunty Bae also begs beside her, Madam Kim finally lets her go –not without two men guarding her. Her plea of a smuggle-away only met with silent tears from her mother and cold-face from his father. That night is the last time Hayoung sees her family, the guards bring her back to The Kims’ residence on the first rays of the sun on the next morning.

-

Even from her standing place at a wooden bridge few feet above, Hayoung still can see Sunggyu’s face, he looks handsome as always. With his eyes closed and serene face, anyone can mistaken him for just sleeping, unless no living person lies on top of a stack made of fire woods and stones. In a small stand not far from the stack, a priest presides over the ceremony. Offerings to the goddess, which consist of baskets of fruits and flowers, placed in front of him. Hayoung spots Sunggyu’s parents beside the priest and her parents on the other side, other people watch around the stack.

The priest starts a series of prayers. But Hayoung too losses in her mind as Aunty Bae’s words this morning ring in her ear and drown the prayers that chanted by him.

“Young Master Sunggyu loves you, really. Since the very first time he only lays his eyes on you, a young and pretty girl who passes his front yard riding her bike. How many years since that hap passes, uh? Four –no, five? Young Master immediately falls in love with your innocence, he loves you for years and waits patiently until you reach your legal age.”

It’s not the first time Hayoung hears the story, Aunty Bae already tells her about it in the second weeks of her marriage with Sunggyu. She supposedly to feel happy because someone loves her sincerely for years, but just like every time she hears it, Hayoung feels miserable instead. She can’t love someone who binds her, breaks her wings and traps her. Someone who even after his death still not freed her.

“Young Master will be very happy to meet you again.”

The dove in her arm suddenly coos, jolts her awake from her mind and Hayoung has a sudden urge to break it wings. A resentful longing because the small bird in her hand can still fly after this, while she will be no longer in this world.

The prayers come to its end and the fire will be lit in any time now. Tears wet her cheeks, drip pass her chin, and fall to the fire under her feet. Her silent cry is for her ripped out freedom and for how alone she is. Stands by herself on the bridge, her family turns their face from her and her in-law wants her to come after her dead husband.

But no matter how much she cries, the fire is too large and not affected by it. Sunggyu will turn into ashes in a little while, and so does she.

Hayoung walks to the end of the bridge on the priest cue.

Releases the dove before jumps to the fire.

The dove flies to the sky above, she falls to the fire under.