Drizzle of Metal

Showers are down like metal needles that evening failed to send the fragrant soil and cool air into the space of a pavilion at the waist hill. Jackets and sweaters are still attached to the body, but the heat in the head is very difficult to hold. I do not know how many times the glasses poured hot coffee. I do not know how many tens of cigarette butts piled in the ashtray. The room was still wrapped in smoke. Thousands of words rolled from a dozen mouths. The words were transformed snake urging each sentence, on top of each other, hit each other, and each bite.
You know, a dozen villagers die because of our wells and fields polluted factory waste brother! Whatever the reason, it's jeans factory must be closed if you do not incompetent to manage its waste. Do not force us to drink water wenternya! "Poll pounded the table.
Female bald and fat, called "brother" was shocked. The veins on his face like mungkret. His hands quickly grabbed a glass and drink it.
"Use your manners, mate!" Barked a stocky man sitting next to bald men. "Our boss is not as bad as a man would have thought!"
Rebuke it did not dampen the popular anger. "What was left of callous human kind your boss! What! "
"Once again I remind you. Man do not feel self-righteous. Problem production of jeans, our bosses have pocketed permission, "snarled the stocky.
"But about the waste?"
"It's already include, dude ... include ...!"
The people who sit next to and behind the poll looked at each other. The stocky plays his cigarette smoke into the dots like a donut. Smoke donuts were dancing-dancing in front of the popular face.
"We do not care that already include or farting! Anyway, the plant should be closed. "
"Do not anarchy, man! Behind us, thousands of workers gaping mouth! "
"Do not labor on behalf of the fate of the real you wring it out!"
"It is impossible we closed our factory!" The stocky grabbed a beer, drank it straight.
"We will exert a larger demonstration again! 'Poll standing, followed by the other, then busy to leave the room. Stump bald man and smiled. Cynics.
Outside the rain still sprinkled white metal needles. Inside the cavity was still pounding blows.
Ambulance listening curtain of rain, the crowd parted village. Sirens blaring sharpen the lines are etched on the face of panic villagers. From inside the car, the Popular assisted by three men carrying the body freezes, blue. Not until in the yard, the dead man was immediately embraced middle-aged woman and three young women. Their words were drowned in the wailing cries. Polls shifted from the crowd when his position was replaced by a man. He canceled a plan to appease middle-aged women. Let the dam burst of grief, much better than to spit the words that are not necessary, he thought. He walked to the corner of the house and sat in the row of mourners.
"Who will follow Kang Marno. Sooner or later the factory waste that was rolled up our history. We've killed a decree issued by the government ... "said a man who approached the polls.
Polls only look at the man. Then a small smile. Bitter. He tried to shake off the bitterness with smoked tobacco smoke is then exhaled forcefully. He felt the press of his chest loosened slightly. However, when he glanced around, sweeping the room around until menanap far, sudden chest tightness again. Jeans factory that was still smoking, still flooded rivers with waste wenter blue-black. Muddy river that was turned toward the pulse. The current was very strong, blue-black wenter until it fills the entire cavity in the body. Chest tightness growing in intensity. His heart was full of water waste. Also the cavity of his head, until she felt her brain floating above a pool of blue-black waste.
"The doctor just said, you're exhausted. Tomorrow you can go home, "said Mutia, wife of the popular polls as he pressed his blanket.
Poll no longer feel his body heat. His head felt heavy initially feels light now. Stomach did not feel sick. IV has also been removed from his hand.
"After Kang Marno, who else wenter water killed it?" Says the popular voice.
Mutia was silent, but the turbulent feelings. He felt no need mencukil memory fragments from his head. He did not want her husband back in shock. He tried to suppress all feelings to tell you that after the death of Kang Marno, who fell victim much more. The faces of victims is now looming in his eyes: Khalil, Anwar, Idrus, Afandi, Yati, Marjuki, Hanif, Nirmala, Rodat, Chrysanthemum, and whoever else. Faces turn blue, but the ball behind their eyes blaze. They appear on the screen turns Mutia memory. They like to say the words with his fist.
"I hear their screams ...," said poll suddenly.
Mutia gasped. How could her husband read her mind? "You hear that? You see it? "
Polls smile. Bitter. His eyes looked at the ceiling of a hospital room. "I saw them there. Yes, they walked behind the black clouds, holding their stomachs burst. Their blood is blue-black .... And, the hand, yes it's trembling hands holding their intestines are spilled .... "
Mutia shaken. Hubbub. He immediately felt her husband's forehead. But he did not feel the forehead was hot.
"I'm healthy ... Healthy Mutia ...."
"Should you not be home tomorrow ...." Mutia remove his wet eyes.
"Why, Mutia ... Why?"
"You're not healthy ...."
"You worried I'm crazy?" Poll smile. His fingers squeezed her fingers Mutia. Tears streamed down her cheeks Mutia trenches.
The trenches were kept dark blue wenter drain into the river. Of dead fish floating in a puddle of urine stream factory. The black water gurgling into the orchestra for the silent procession of mourners to the tomb at the end of the village. Their legs were beat up the dead leaves that fall in the tomb complex. Before the body is inserted into the grave, was a middle-aged man speech. His style is typical of the New Order officials.
"As than the headman, I harapken than Sodara-Sodara gentlemen do not misunderstand. Death than Mr. Engkos is not because instead of the factory waste. Not. But, because of e.. E ... instead of stomach illnesses ... Yes ... yes ... dysentery. "
People stared at the old man with bleary eyes.
"It should be rather than Sodara-Sodara know, about our mill effluents was bicaraken to find than the solution. We mengharapken than Sodara-Sodara little patience. Hopefully, within five days later anem been no news .... "
Pak Lurah more passionate speeches. His words berbuncah-disturbing. But people still restless. One by one the mourners left the crowd. Some people without command to enter the corpse to the grave. Mr. Modin immediately recite long prayers. Hoe-hoe beat the red earth, heaping grave.
The convoy of mourners moving toward the factory. They blend with the women who planted the anger at the end of the pole. They walk trot-trot. Pushed into the factory gates. A group of security guards tried to confront them. Jostling occurred. The group bounced off guard. The protesters continued to lunge forward. The gate is subjected to blow the masses. Poles, timber, iron lonjoran beat up metal doors. Clang. Ear drum beat.
The crowd of protesters, uncovered, giving dozens of people who slammed into the gate logs. Like the dam burst, the gate was in vain to hold the heavy mass of wavy flow. Police force tried to head off with a shot into the air. But the guts of protesters were not recede an inch. They keep moving. Infiltrating. The police drive them away with batons. The heads of the protesters is leaking. There is sprawl. There are stepped on. Increasingly desperate masses. They were behind the attack the police. Several police officers covered with blood. Some protesters were exposed to the hot tin collapsed.
Drizzle dissipating metal needle. Menikami earth. Stabbed the chirping of birds. Pierced the gloomy weather.
Polls opened his eyes. He felt alien in the room. Foreigners also come across some men who sat surrounded him. There is only one he knew. Beefy men, who remembered he had ever encountered in a meeting between residents and the owner of the mill jeans a few months ago.
"Sorry ... we surprised coming dude." The voice of the stocky with laughter loose. Formations.
Poll was silent. Considers it nothing more than a stale joke.
"For what you have to kidnap me? What do you terrorize my wife, my family? "Poll inflamed.
"Ahhh ... it's nothing more than a sweet surprise. Who knows, man so impressed. All that's just a flavor to the story of the struggle of man feels more pleasant to be remembered .... "Said the stocky still with laughter the loose.
Polls slapped the table. Until the laughter stopped abruptly.
"I'm very proud. This man is very heroic. But anyway ... It's no good ... The stories of heroism that was a long turn to dust in the ashtray, "the stocky polls close while offering cigarettes. Reject the referendum.
"Who are you? And you have no right to talk like that. The position we are different! "
"I used to like you, man. Even more heroic! My legs are limp has been handed over to the struggle. My head is so subscribed this vertigo how many times stung by electricity in a painful interrogation. But all I get? What? Only suffering. Only poverty. And the people that I defend it? Puah .... "
"If you are tired of the poor, do not get other people to be like you! In vain you poison me! "
"I'm not the kind of cowardice that keep crime to cripple the enemy. Moreover, I never considered this man an enemy. Never that! "
Poll trying to guess where the conversation was the stocky.
"I just took man to think realistically!"
"Realistic or compromise?" Said Poll.
"It's up to you lah ... But this dude. Now the mood has changed. The constellation has changed. What we once considered the enemy, now it is not clear. So funny, if we still think of black and white ... see for yourself mate. Many people who used to be a legend now has melted so ordinary people. Their heads were originally contained sentences dashing now change the credit card. Bung see for yourself, how many hundred warriors now only be kelangenan power and money .... "
Polls looked toward the window. Drizzle is sowed metal needles.
"I only ask one thing from the man. Stop the rally before more victims fall ... Okay? "
Polling away. Drizzle turned back to the metal needle sculpting glass windows.
The stocky bald men approached. They spoke in sign language. The Bald issued a sheet of paper.
"It's for the dude. It's up to how much you want to fill. Want to six digits, eight digits, ten digits, twelve, fifteen, twenty digits ... Whatever. The important thing is no more demonstrations. Bung ... Tired ... tired. "
"You think my head is just about mud? Sorry, I can live with this the way that is not disgusting, "the popular throw a check.
"Dude think this kind of prostitution? Not a dude. Not. This is a professional deal. This is common in the struggle. "
"Or a man wants another offer. Gas station? Mall? Or so the company expert staff? Can ... can ... if it's a more elegant way. Later after the rich, man make a living memoir of struggle. Slightly dramatized, no problem. Importantly, the legend of this man remain untreated. Simple is not it?! "
Poll felt his chest tighten. Jatungnya feels knead. His face was washed down gallons of saliva. He struggled. Screamed bloody murder. He raged. Hit those people. The stocky netted blows right into the pit of her stomach. Crunching fall referendum. Collapsed. Others kicked his head. The others beat his legs with iron lonjoran. Others trampling his chest, kicking his head. Blood spurted from his mouth.
Showers still menikami earth metal needles and transformed a giant impenetrable curtain procession of mourners. They menyemut toward the tomb.
With crutches, polls trudging over the muddy streets. Arriving at the tomb, Poll sat staring, staring at the base kapok tree leaves fall. In the sky he looked at dozens of people with stomach erupted walking among clumps of dark clouds. Shaking their hands holding their intestines are spilled. The faces of those who originally turned blue on fire now turned red. Their eyes looked glazed jeans factory which kept urinating on the river with a black waste.