PROLOGUE

BEATS, boobs, and booze!

Yeah, that is all you need to liberate your madness. And that was exactly what I did--got drunk in the middle of four lustful women. Possessed by the house music beats, they were insisting to give me a lap dance, while I wanted them to just get naked.

Oh, look! Those chicks were playing their best duck face as if ready to eat my banana. What a spirit! Please be gentle ladies. This wild party atmosphere reminded me of Bacchanalia, a notorious nightclub in Surabaya City. Bass sound, pole strippers, and whiskey spirits.

I am sorry. It was just my daydreaming.

The fact is, I just stood in the corner and staring envy at a horde of drunken masters who shared their wild fantasies in this dim private karaoke room. From the only light LCD screen, I could see them sat on a long almost broken couch, with a table full of beer bottles and dimple mug glasses.

The smell of alcohol was overwhelming and cigarette smoke could not find a way out. The Chinese, Hao xiang hao xiang he ni zai yi qi song was playing. To make it worse, the ladies just sat and ate peanuts. At that time, I thought they were still heating their engine.

From the same light source, I could still assume, this room had the size of a volleyball field, but not the one used for the Olympics. I turned on my cell phone flashlight to help my vision. Gosh! Those guys were acting as happily ever after, as if they did not know, shortly, this place would be evicted by the government.

Yeah, that was what most people in this Surabaya City were talking about. The Saltyroth-Dolly, the last brothel complex in Surabaya, which also holds the title of the largest prostitution community in Southeast Asia, would be leveled to the ground.

"Lang!" one of them called me. "Come here, Bro!"

I was happy to the moon when I heard they called my name.

When I came close, I could see the battlefield was full of peanut shells, plastic crackers, snacks, and cigarette packs. It was just like we were all trapped in the middle of the abandoned war bunker. Amazingly, these guys adapted like home sweet home. I did not mind either.

Then, the atmosphere got hotter when one of the girls, was caught dancing. There you go! While dancing, she was shaking her waist seductively. The dark tank top and the super-tight blue denim skirt she wore added to her sexiness.

It was obvious she was drunk. But she seemed to be trying hard so she could 'go to school'. Term 'school' in this brothel complex meant having sex. Even when she sat down, she did not hesitate to stretch her thighs so that her panties, could be seen! If she wore it? I could not see it clearly with this dim light. Maybe she had lost her mind. I meant possessed, to be precise.

The longer I was in this karaoke room, the smoke stung my eyes and shortness my breath. But, I insisted on staying. Because one of the ladies' companions kept stolen my attention from the beginning I met her a week ago.

When she sang, I enjoyed her melodious voice. With that red tank top and skinny jeans, what could I say? Her curves were like Spanish guitar. And she looked graceful with every swing of her waist. I could not believe there was a beautiful woman with a sweet voice, working in a whorehouse.

I suddenly felt the need to calm down. So, I went out of this karaoke room while she sang a song. In the courtyard, I started to light a cigarette, then leaned against the cracked walls. Here, I could listen to her excellent vocal technique without any distractions.

Then, I looked at the surrounding environment. I could see this village was more vibrant than before. Children played cheerfully under the umbrella of papaya and banana trees while the elders had a cheerful conversation. A sea breeze blew against its midrib, creating a serene rustle. My mind flew by.

Suddenly ...

"Why you here?" the beautiful melodious voice owner suddenly appeared, surprising me. "Aren’t the girls attractive, huh? Or, my voice that bad?"

"Smoke," I answered short.

Then, she came to sit next to me, took a cigarette, and lit it without asking, as if the cigarette was her own. Then, she also looked at the surroundings. I could see her hazel eyes gleaming. Yeah, people often mistook it for brown or green. Cigarette smoke blew from her ripe lips. Once later, she moved her hair behind one of her ears. I could see her shrouded in a mist of elegance.

I could not accept that she lived and had a life likes this. So, I asked her why she did not just become a professional singer instead of singing as a ladies companion. Then, why could she end up at this whorehouse? She did not immediately answer my curiosity. But, with that frown face, I immediately knew she was offended.

"Now," she cranky, "do you want to 'go to school' with me, or not?"

For a moment, I just stared at her gleaming hazel eyes.

"How much?" I asked her.

"One million," she replied, "short time."

One million rupiahs was as much as one hundred US dollars. Quite expensive for two hours battle! If she had an intimate 'short time' with my friend, I would let my body possess by the Lyssa--Greek goddess of rage. And I would not let that happen.

"Okey," I submissive to her manipulative speech.

Then, she dragged me walking hastily across the path that divided the main house and the business house. At the back of the main house, I could see a row of colorful rooms that resemble a complex of women boarding houses. Moreover, several young ladies were washing and drying clothes. One of them even only wore a towel to cover her assets.

When I walked, I saw a tree that rose in the middle of the woman boarding house complex. To my knowledge--as I studied a cross-cultural understanding course at the college--that tree has deep meaning for mainstream religions and culture.

When the Buddha got enlightened, he was meditating under this tree. Meanwhile, for Hinduism, the same tree is a symbol of the world tree whose roots are the source of the Sarasvati River. Then for Christians, Adam and Eve pinned the tree leaves and made loincloths to cover their bodies after they knew they were naked.

For Islam, the tree is one of the sacred trees as the Surah At-Tin begins with Allah's oath, "By (fruit) Tin and (fruit) olive." Moreover, the Prophet Muhammad made the fruit of the tree one of his favorite fruits. In one hadith, Prophet Muhammad said that fruits come down from heaven.

The founders of the Indonesian state themselves made the same tree as the symbol of the fifth precept of Pancasila--the foundation of the national ideology. It is written Social Justice for All the People of Indonesia. Knowing all of this, it was just too ironic this tree grew in the middle of a whorehouse.

This beautiful woman's room itself was in the very back corner. There, the karaoke loud sound was no longer could be heard. She unlocked the door and then entered. Before I stepped into the room, she charged me.

I took money from my wallet and handed all of it to her. She snatched it from my hand then smiled excitedly. I went in and sat on the cotton bed with pink bedcover full of flower motif, while my glance swept around the room. I was pretty sure this room was large as 3x3 meters.

"What do you want me to do first?" she asked, after locking the door.

Then, she smiled as she turned her face to the side, while her long fingers twisted the hair that - who knows when - already hanging on her melons. Her shoulders swung back and forth. She was shy.

I kept silent.

She then walked over and sat on her knees in front of me. I started getting goosebumps predicting what happened next. So, she placed her palms on my thighs, and my sweat started pouring as big as a corn kernel. She looked into my eyes deeply and then began to unzip the jeans I wear.

"Nope," I stopped her.

She was surprised.

Then, she rose to her feet, sighed, and then turned her back on me. I did not know if she was disappointed or happy? I asked her to sit beside me. I could see her reluctant to comply with my request. She sighed again and then put her curvy ass heavily.

"Okay,” I said. “I'm listening."

She sighed and her shoulders fell.

"It's a long story," she replied.

"I still have an hour and a half," I defended myself.

Then, she started talking.

She admitted that she rarely had the opportunity to 'school'. Because the fees charged by her pimp to her were expensive, it cost one million rupiahs for a short time. Moreover, she said, her tag price was the most high-priced throughout this brothel complex.

Like it or not, she had to seduce many men so that at least one caught her bait. But, most of those masher men were not able to make up for it. She also admitted to targeting me because she thought I was innocent, so I was easy to seduce. She pretended not to be interested in me so that she would appear mysterious to my eyes. Okay, I admitted I ate her bait. She did it. Congratulations!

Then, I asked her how come she ended up on this bordello? She sighed again as if it was hard to tell the story. She then asked for my cigarette and then lit it. This time she asked my permission first.

"My family kicked me out," she said.

She admitted that previously she was on a mission to be a professional singer. She had always won singing competitions at various level events, all at local, regional, and national levels. Even she got a chance to participate in the most prestigious singing event, the Indonesian Idol.

When she just graduated from high school, she became pregnant out of wedlock with her boyfriend. She was reluctant to give his name. She only said that he was the son of one of the most respected founders of an Islamic boarding school in a small town. But, her boyfriend refused to take responsibility and even accused her of having an affair. She also lost her opportunity to be a star by left the Indonesian Idol early.

"My boyfriend, I mean ex, that bastard, is now studying abroad," she burst out. "Who knows where? I don't care!"

She continued, the family who knew about the pregnancy began to interrogate, who had impregnated her? She answered; the one who should responsible was the son of an eminent person in their town. She said, if she mentions the name of such a respected person, I would not believe her either. But I did not force her.

She also admitted, her family came from the lower economic classes that were religiously devout. When she revealed the name of a child of a respected person, her family insisted it was impossible because the founder of that Islamic boarding school family was devout to worship.

"My own family even accused me of slander and had defamed that person's family name," she said. "I was accused of being a bitch. Then I was kicked out."

Cigarette smoke blew from her lips. I felt I did not want to urge her to talk anymore. However, she seemed determined to continue. It was as if she wanted to get rid of all the burdens that were stifling her heart and mind.

Then, she went to her aunt, who was willing to accommodate her in the other town. There, she claimed to have been raped by her aunt's husband many times. Due to stress, she miscarried her pregnancy. After that, her uncle-in-law sold her to a pimp there who then sold her back to Surabaya.

"Maybe, my aunt thought I ran away. In fact, I was sold by her husband. I've only been here six or seven months," she said calmly.

Then, she got the news that her mother had fallen ill. Besides that, her family also came from the poor. Therefore, the money she received from 'school' at this bordello, was sent to her mother via money order. However, her mother refused by returning the money. The mother no longer admitted this melodious voice owner as her daughter.

“I surrendered myself to a man. And that same man even also destroyed me,” she then grinned, lighting up her cigarette again. "How stupid I am!"

"Since then, my singing career has become just a dream," she added.

I did not know where I got my strength? As if there was a mysterious whisper that had pushed me to help her. Yes, to accomplish what she had built. I was determined to make that dream come true. So, I promised to free her from this despicable valley. After everything she had been through, she was definitely a strong woman.

"I'll free you out,” I promised her.

She laughed out loud listen to my vow.

"What will you do to me, then? Selling me again?" she accused me sharply, as razor-sharp.

I was speechless. Neither did her. Maybe I was naive. But, I eagerly had the intention of getting her out of here, somehow? If government evictions happen, what would she do, and where would she go, then? I would lose her for sure.

Then, I saw her sob. Tears fell on her cheek, and then she looked away from me. As if she did not want me to see her face. From one side, I could see that one hand was covering her mouth, while the other was supporting her body on the bed. As if she was trying to hold her sobs from breaking out.

As she said earlier, she had entrusted her life to a man, but the same man was also the one who destroyed her. Maybe she was traumatized and had doubts about my intentions. However, I had no intention of being the same man who destroyed her.

"Tell me now; do you want to get out of life like this?" I asked again.

She did not want to look at me or answer my question. She still looked away from me. Then, I saw a glimpse of her nodding. For me, that was enough.

"I promise I'll free you."