"Wait! Don’t jump!"
Raindrops were accumulating fast on my glasses, making it even harder for me to make out her figure. The front lights of my car helped a little; if I had taken the time to kill the engine, I would not have been able to see anything beyond myself. I was out of the car for only a few seconds, but my T-shirt underneath my thick sweater was already clinging to my skin.
The midnight sky suddenly became bright for a fleeting moment. It was then I saw her face looking straight at mine. She was just about twenty steps away, and she was still holding the railing firmly. Absolute darkness. A rumbling ‘Boom!’ followed in less than five seconds after that. Almost blind, I rushed to where she was standing. The wooden planks at my feet groaned a little, but the bridge had been standing there for more than two decades, and it could still sustain the weight of a loaded lorry.
Lightning struck again. She let go of the metal bar and surrendered to gravity. I reached out with a primal energy born out of desperation. Thunder rolled overhead.
* * * * *
Alya hummed softly to herself, thinking I’d fallen asleep. Lying under the shade of an angsana, I opened my eyes a little and stole a glance at her. She looked different when she was calm. I hated admitting it, but she looked much saner, in a way. If only Prof. Zalmie could look at Alya the way she was right at that moment –
Zalmie.
Shit!
I jumped to my feet so suddenly my head almost drowned in the condensed air. Wobbling, my feet unsure of their footing, I leaned against the wide, living trunk until the world stopped spinning. Alya laughed at me.
"Alya, where’s my bag? I’m late for class!"
The first thing I saw when I regained my eyesight was Alya clinging tightly to my backpack. She wasn’t letting me off easy.
"It’s 2:03. You still have seventeen minutes before he locks the door." A trace of laughter was still clear in her voice.
"C’mon. I don’t have time for this. Lecture hall’s ten minutes away from here, and that’s if I run. Bag. Please."
"You can drive there."
"Broke down, remember?" How could she forget? She was the one who rammed my car into a lamppost three days ago.
"Fine. Just promise me one thing."
I was getting desperate for my bag. "What?"
"Be here at 3:30 sharp, or else…."
I knew exactly what was coming, but I knew she expected me to ask.
"What?"
"See the roof up there?" she asked, pointing at the top of the four-story library in front of me. "I’ll jump off it."
For the next ten seconds I looked at her in silence. Not to dare her to do just that; she never joked about killing herself. In my mind I calculated the time I would need to be there on time. Class would end at 3, but Prof. Zalmie had a tendency to take up extra time. Even if I ran back here at top speed, the best time I could make was 8 minutes.
"3:40. Give me ten minutes, that’s all I ask."
Alya’s coy smile disappeared immediately. For a moment I thought she would make a scene. "Fine. 3:40. Take your bag. If you’re not here –"
I took my bag and started running downhill. "Said I’ll be here. Just wait for me, okay?"
For the twentieth time in under ten minutes I checked the time on my watch. 2:11. Great, I had four minutes to spare. My legs were killing me, and I could feel my heart thumping in protest. I took deep breaths and waited for my breathing to pace down before I grabbed hold of the handle and opened the door. Air-conditioning cooled my sweat-drenched skin almost instantly, but heat still emanated from under my clothes. I knew it was useless to even think my entrance had gone unnoticed; everything was suddenly dead-silent. Almost everyone turned in their seats to look at the door at the top of the amphitheater. Prof. Zalmie looked up from the slide on the overhead projector and met my eyes. He looked at his watch. He resumed his lecture. I couldn’t figure out he was pissed off or not; his face remained expressionless throughout.
I found an empty seat at the back row and made my way there as discretely as possible. Zalmie was talking about the chemical structure of petroleum. I took out my notepad to jot down important points, but then I remembered Alya had taken my one and only pen that afternoon. I had read about the subject last night anyway, so I decided to just sit back and listen to what my lecturer had to say.
There’s something about sitting way back in the lecture hall and being sweaty that just dampens your will to study. Not five minutes sitting down and Prof. Zalmie’s voice began to fade away.
"Razif, let’s get out of campus."
"But I’ve got class."
"C’mon!"
"Razif, I don’t want to go home this holiday. Stick around with me here?"
"Razif, do you think there’s happiness out there?"
"I’m happy."
"No, you’re not."
"How would you know?"
"I’m a girl."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I’m a girl."
"Razif, just leave your books for a while."
"And do what?"
"I don’t know. Hang."
"Hang?"
"Yeah. Hang."
"Razif…"
"Razif!"
The girl beside me elbowed my ribs. I turned at her and almost growled, but she ignored my creased eyebrows and set jaw and calmly pointed down toward Prof. Zalmie.
"Razif. Follow me to my office."
Everyone was looking at me. I didn’t know people realized I exist. I looked at my watch. 3:10. If I sneaked off now, I would make it back to the library in time. But Zalmie sounded serious. There was no running out of this one. As quickly as I could, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the amphitheater. I was getting uncomfortable with people looking at me and whispering to each other.
Prof. Zalmie’s room was just beyond a corner from lecture hall, and when I knocked at his door, he was already inside.
"Come in."
His room was not alien to me. I immediately noticed a new addition to the already crammed book cabinet behind his mahogany table. Files and books rose in tall stacks on and beside the table, leaving barely enough room to work on. Zalmie was already seated and gestured me to take a seat. Again, his face was as expressionless as before.
"I’m worried about you." At least one thing was clear. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.
I squirmed in my seat. "Is there anything to be worried about?" I wasn’t trying to be rude. I really didn’t think there was anything wrong with me.
He tossed a brown file at me and beckoned me to opened it. I took a moment to just look at the file. The outlines of the university’s emblem was printed out in bold, black ink at the center. My full name was written in blue ink below the emblem. I opened the hard-paper folder and looked at my grade for every test I’d taken this semester. I looked up and met Zalmie’s unreadable gaze.
"Look again."
I stole a glance at my watch. 3:21. I had to get this over with in less than ten minutes. I looked at my grades again and took a guess.
"It’s dropping?"
Zalmie nodded once. "You’ve been scoring 4 flat from the first semester you came here, but I don’t think you’ll get the same grade this semester. You did so bad for your midterm exam."
I looked at my grades for the third time. I got a B. What was so bad about that?
"Razif, why do you study all the time?"
"I’ve got to score."
"But why?"
Yes. Why indeed? Alya asked me that question a few weeks ago and I still couldn’t find the answer for it.
"You are the best student I’ve ever had. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you." Zalmie finally showed a hint of expression. His thin, sparse brows creased toward his nose a fraction.
"What do you want to do after you graduate?"
"Let me think. I’m learning Chemical Engineering, so my guess would be working my butt off on an oil rig off coast somewhere?"
"Nothing else? You don’t want to see Paris or Italy? You don’t want to go snorkeling at Tioman or Perhentian? Don’t want to be the father of ten children?"
"Ten?"
"I don’t know. More?"
In truth, I’d never seen myself doing all those things. I just wanted to become the best engineer I could be.
"Major companies have already queried about you. There’s a position for you anywhere overseas if you want to continue studying after getting your degree. You have the chance to go farther than any of your colleagues."
I had a hard time digesting my lecturer’s words. How could getting a B hurt my future?
"I suggest you stay away from this Alya Yasin."
My eyes must have almost popped out of their socket. How could he know about Alya? She was studying Mass Communication.
"I don’t have friends. People think I’m weird."
"You are."
"Razif!"
"But you’re my friend."
"Never tell a girl she’s weird!"
"Prof., I don’t think hanging out with her has anything to do with my grades."
"No? Look at this." He tossed me another file. On its light blue surface was Alya’s name, written in elegant cursive characters. Inside was page after page of psychiatric evaluation reports followed by a ten-year history of medication. Among them were diazepam and lithium carbonate.
"Anxiolytics and Antidepressants. You know what that means? She is manic-depressive, she has a history of long-standing insomnia, among other things. She’s mentally unstable, Razif. She even tried to kill herself more than once, but I’m sure you’re aware of that. Your name came out in police reports from the hospital three times."
I’d already known about the medication. I’d known about her from the moment I hauled her back onto the bridge that stormy night. I knew she was still unstable when I carried her in my arms with her blood flowing from her wrist, drenching my shirt and making a trail from her dormitory to the campus infirmary. I was almost dispelled for entering girls’ dorm. Her roommate had called me in the middle of the night, asking for my help in between hysterics. I had no choice, and I guess people at the administrative department saw that. I also knew there was something wrong with her when she purposely rammed into the lamppost. Her head was still bandaged from that ‘accident’.
"Is it really that important to get an A every time?"
"Of course it is. What kind of question is that?"
"But why?"
"I don’t know why. Do I need a reason for it?"
"I don’t see why her mental status is in any way hurting my grades."
Prof. Zalmie’s face was fully animated for the first time since I knew him. He really was concerned, though I was still unsure whether his concern was directed at me or my academic achievement.
"You’ve always been half an hour early for every single class. Since you met her, you’re either late or you don’t turn up at all. And it’s not just for my lectures. All your lecturers are worried, Razif."
One thing I always hated was people breathing down my neck. It was time I got defensive. "I can handle myself. I’ll make up for my grades during finals, okay? Don’t sweat over it. I know what I’m doing."
"It’s not your grades I’m worried about. I’m worried about you. You’re like a son to me, Razif. Look at me as a father, not just your lecturer."
At that, I bolted up. My chair tipped backward and fell with a heavy thud.
"You are not my father! I don’t have a father!" No one would have known. I never talked about the bastard who ran out on Ummi and I when I was two.
"Razif, calm down." Zalmie half-stood, not to challenge me, but to express the concern he felt. He was holding one hand out to reach for my shoulder.
"You’re my lecturer. Nothing more. I’ll get that A so get off my case, okay?"
"Razif –"
Prof. Zalmie didn’t sound angry. I wasn’t expecting that. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
"Look, I’m sorry I yelled. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me." I looked at my watch. 3:34. Shit! I grabbed my bag and rushed to the door. "I have to go, or my name will be in her file for the fourth time."
My lecturer made no move to stop me. Instead, he only asked, "Do you love her?"
I ran out without answering him.
* * * * *
I found myself running harder than I’d ever ran before. My calves were screaming for mercy, my lungs were at the brink of exploding, and my heart was palpitating furiously. I never once took a peek at my watch after running out of Prof. Zalmie’s office. Didn’t have the time to do it, and I also didn’t dare.
I left a trail of people falling and yelling curses, blaring horns and burning rubber stench. I would be dispelled for sure this time, but I kept thinking about Alya.
"Promise me, Razif. Promise me you’ll be there."
"I’ll do my best."
"Not good enough."
"Fine. I’ll be there."
"Always?"
"We’ll see about that."
"Razif!"
"Okay! Always."
"Why won’t you leave me to die? Why go through all the trouble to save me?"
"I promised I’ll be there, remember?"
Silence.
"What?"
"Just because of the promise?"
Silence.
"Do you love her, Razif?"
"Do you love her?"
Zalmie’s voice plagued me as I ran up the final bend a few meters off the library. What did I feel for Alya? A common loneliness from being deserted by people? An urge to protect her from the world and from herself? To uphold a promise I made? What? Was it love? I’d never been in love before, so would being in love feel like this? Sometimes I would feel trapped, but most of the time she made me feel so alive.
"Have you ever thought about life?"
"What is there to think about?"
"Is there anything worth living for?"
"Why do you ask me all these questions?"
There was a large crowd in front of the library. Everybody was trying to get a look at the entrance of the library. I stopped running only because my path was blocked. And I wished I hadn’t stopped.
"Did you hear? Someone got pushed out of the window."
"I thought I heard someone jumped off the roof."
"No, I heard someone got stabbed."
"Haven’t you heard? Someone died and there’s a pool of blood at the entrance."
Everyone was talking at the same time. Different stories, different versions, but with the same message.
Alya, wait for me! Please, wait for me.
I lifted my right arm slowly and looked at my wristwatch.
Alya, just wait for me, please!
3:41.
"Is there anything in life worth living for?"
Finally I had the answer.
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