Missing Rose Trace (Part 3)

Written by : Linda Herliantina
Translated in English by : DS. Utomo
Published by : Mizan Publishing House, Bandung, Indonesia

Uncle Jatomo drove his old Jeep carrying four teens .Occasionally the car's speed is slowed down when passing a traditional market that was held at the curb. The longer they passed the number of houses become rare. They are alternated by the rows of large trees that stand upright along the road.. Some of them seem as pine trees that line up neatly.

Suddenly the road they passed was changed from the asphalt road that is straight and flat to the cubed stones road which winding up and down across the hills. The breeze that caressed their faces were getting colder and colder. The atmosphere was more cool and quiet.

Uncle Jatomo’s old car roar loud silence of the hills divide. Sometimes the machine is roaring again when crossing a rather steep incline. Along the road winding hills that looked deserted. Only a few vehicles passing in opposite directions with them. This situation is completely different with some time ago when they had just left the train station.

"This is very quiet, Uncle?" said Jalu watching the road in front of him.
"Well, this is the way to the villages . There is little public transport from villages to cities, "said uncle Jatomo.

The old jeep engine is roaring again as it passes through a steep incline. Aryo secretly amazed at uncle Jatomo’s skill behind the steering wheel, passes the thrilling heart routes. .
After a long climb, the road ahead begins to decline sharply, but still winding. In the distance loomed over a river that flows. The water is clear, flowing in between the big rocks.

"This is river Gintung," uncle Jatomo explained when the jeep passed over the bridge.

Gurgling sound of the river water was clear. While in the vicinity of the river seen some people were keen to mine sand and stone. Along the way it piled up heaps of sand and stone mound. Ready to be exchanged with daily living needs, including rice.

"There are people who live around the river. A part them work as sand miners ," said uncle Jatomo seemed to answer the question raging in the minds of Four teens . "Periodically, there are people from the town who bought their mining products to be used as the foundation and building materials."

Eventually they arrived at the rural areas. Rows of houses that they take more and more. At the edge of a road there is a house with the traditional architecture of Java. The building resembles a huge marquee. On the right the left the pavilion there is a smaller house, Java-style buildings as well.

"What place is that , Uncle?" asked Aryo, curiously. He did not have much time to read the text written in the monument when the car passing in front of it.
"That was the General Sudirman’s monument ," said Uncle, "In this village he grew up here. So that is a monument where he was born."
"Is the monument open to public , Uncle?" asked Iqbal.
"Yes. I'll take you there someday. There was a museum that contains the journey of life and struggle of General Sudirman during the war of Indonesia independence . "

The dusk arrived. While the Sun was shining with reddish pink color. Aryo was tired as well as the three other teenagers.

Finally the jeep turned slowly into the courtyard of a white .painted house that looks neat. The architecture of that tiny house is not less beautiful than the houses in the city. Its front yard is covered with blooming flowers .It looks lovely around a tiny fish pond as well.

"Well, boys, you're welcome now to my home !."

These uncle's words seemed to indicate the end point of this long journey throughout the day. The travel had been tiring, but not boring……

(To be continued).