Short Story by 
The sun still shines red on the west when Mariska drives her car from Jakarta to Bandung over the Cipularang toll road. This 54 kilometer toll lane connects the city of Jakarta with Bandung. Cipularang stands for Cikampek, Purwakarta, and Padalarang. This is the usual path that Mariska, the wonder woman who has often bulldozed the heavy lanes in various regions.
Several truck trucks blocked Mariska's driveway. The woman slowed down the car. About 50 meters ahead, she saw a man holding a teenager's hand by the side of the road. Probably the locals, Mariska thought. The toll roads should be free of human trajectory because it is very dangerous. But this in Indonesia, her country, the edge of the highway could have been used to hang clothes.
The man waved his hand to another car that was unknowingly already in front of Mariska, but the car kept going. As the hand flew toward Mariska, she stopped. Pull off the car and turn on the alert lights to avoid accidents. She lowered the window pane.
"Sorry to disturb you," the man said politely. "My daughter needs a ride up to Kilometer of 98."
Without thinking, Mariska opened the door. The girl, she estimates her age about 14 years old, gets into the car and sits in front. The man thanked him. The car drove back. Mariska enlarges the volume, classical music Ride of the Valkyries Richard Wagner sounds clear. She wanted to pass on the calm to the teenager who looked pale. Perhaps this was the first time she was in a car with a stranger. But Mariska also doubts teenagers now like classical music. She has two teenagers at home, and they do not like classical music despite starting to fall in love with painting.
"Where do you live?"
That's a common question that's easy to answer. But the teenager just smiled so thinly that Mariska repeated the question with a clearer voice.
"Near Kilometer 98," she said quietly.
"Hm, yes. Be careful living near the highway. "
"Yes, there are accidents. Many people die. Blood debt is paid blood. People who have died, made uneasy on the highway. "
Mariska gasped. "What do means?"
"Many graves were moved when this toll road was built."
She nodded with a big smile. It was not a smile for death, but the way the girl expressed her opinion, was immature. Mariska likes the teenager's calm.
Dark starts to fall in outside, the vehicle is not too dense so Mariska can run the car quickly. They were silent for a long time until then Mariska was reminded of the scent that seemed to come from the young girl's body.
"What kind of your perfume?"
The teenager shook his head slowly until Mariska barely noticed it. "My Mm is bought."
When she noticed the teens's little shake, Mariska saw the long hair loose, like her hair. But her hair had begun to change color with the presence of several sheets of gray. He often painted it, but occasionally let others enjoy his gray hair to give a natural impression while reminding himself that he is not young anymore.
Arriving in the area of Mount Hejo, Mariska saw no flashing car lights in the distance. One unique truck truck was visibly rolled over, and when Mariska's headlights flickered in front of the truck, she noticed a broken head from the neck lying near the door of the truck.
The woman was stunned, her heart racing twice as fast. She's seen the tragic accident a few times, but it's not like that.
Mariska saw the young girl. It is not good for children psychologically to see such a miserable scene. And how shocked Mariska was until she felt her heart shed like her head ahead. The teenager is no longer by her side. Outside, in the dim light of a lamp, she could see a girl with long hair like her hair, walking in the hood of the same man who had waved at her for a ride. They continued walking toward the darkness.[]
Note:
Based on true story 
Kilometer 88 Cipularang
Cerpen
MATAHARI masih bersinar kemerahan di ufuk barat ketika Mariska melajukan mobilnya dari Jakarta menujung Bandung melalui jalan tol Cipularang. Jalur tol sepanajgn 54 kilometer ini menghubungkan Kota Jakarta dengan Bandung. Cipularang singkatan dari Cikampek, Purwakarta, dan Padalarang. Ini jalur biasa yang Mariska, perempuan perkasa yang sudah sering melibas jalur berat di berbagai daerah.
Beberapa truk tronton menghalangi jalan mobil Mariska. Perempuan itu memperlambat laju mobilnya. Sekitar 50 meter di depan, dia melihat seorang lelaki mengandeng tangan seorang anak remaja di pinggir jalan. Barangkali penduduk setempat, pikir Mariska. Seharusnya jalan tol bebas dari lintasan manusia karena sangat berbahaya. Tapi ini di
Indonesia, pinggiran jalan tol bisa saja digunakan untuk tempat menjemur pakaian.
Lelaki itu melambaikan tangannya ke sebuah mobil lain yang tanpa disadari sudah berada di depan Mariska, tetapi mobil itu terus melaju. Ketika lambaian tangan itu mengarah ke Mariska, ia berhenti. Menepikan mobil dan menghidupkan lampu awas untuk menghindari kecelakaan. Dia menurunkan kaca jendela.
“Maaf menganggu,” kata lelaki itu sopan. “Anak saya butuh tumpangan sampai Kilometer 98.”
Tanpa pikir panjang, Mariska membuka pintu. Anak perempuan itu, ia menaksir usianya sekitar 14 tahun, masuk ke mobil dan duduk di depan. Lelaki itu mengucapkan terima kasih. Mobil kembali melaju. Mariska memperbesar volume, music klasik Ride of the Valkyries Richard Wagner terdengar jelas. Dia ingin menularkan ketenangan bagi remaja itu yang terlihat pucat. Barangkali ini pertama kali ia berada dalam satu mobil dengan orang asing. Tapi Mariska juga ragu remaja sekarang menyukai music klasik. Dia punya dua remaja di rumah, dan mereka tidak menyukai musik klasik meski mulai jatuh hati dengan seni lukis.
“Tinggal di mana?”
Itu pertanyaan umum yang mudah dijawab. Tapi remaja itu hanya tersenyum tipis sehingga Mariska mengulang pertanyaan dengan suara lebih jelas.
“Dekat Kilometer 98,” sahutnya pelan.
“Hm, ya. Hati-hati tinggal dekat jalur tol.”
“Ya, sering terjadi kecelakaan. Banyak orang mati. Utang darah dibayar darah. Orang yang sudah mati pun, dibuat tak tenang di jalur tol.”
Mariska tersentak. “Maksudnya?”
“Banyak kuburan yang dipindahkan ketika jalur tol ini dibangun.”
Dia mengangguk sambil tersenyum lebar. Bukan senyum bagi kematian, tetapi cara anak itu menyampaikan pendapatnya, sungguh dewasa. Mariska suka dengan ketenangan anak itu.
Gelap mulai turun, kendaraan tidak terlalu padat sehingga Mariska bisa melajukan mobil dengan cepat. Mereka terdiam lama sampai kemudian Mariska teringat dengan aroma wangi yang sepertinya menguar dari tubuh gadis belia itu.
“Pakai parfum apa?”
Anak itu menggeleng pelan hingga Mariska nyaris tidak melihatnya. “Mama yang beli.”
Setibanya di kawasan Gunung Hejo, Mariska melihat ada lampu mobil berkedip-kedip di kejauhan. Satu unik truk tronton terlihat terguling, dan ketika lampu mobil Mariska menyorot ke depan truk, ia dengan melihat kepala yang putus dari leher tergeletak di dekat pintu truk.
Perempuan itu terhenyak, jantungnya berpacu dua kali lebih cepat. Dia sudah pernah beberapa kali melihat kecelakaan tragis, tapi tidak seperti itu.
Mariska melihat gadis belia itu. Sungguh tidak bagus bagi psikologis anak-anak bila melihat pemandangan mengenaskan seperti itu. Dan betapa kagetnya Mariska sampai ia merasa jantungnya copot seperti kepala di depan sana. Anak perempuan itu sudah tidak berada lagi di sampingnya. Di luar, dalam cahaya lampu yang agak temaram, ia bisa melihat seorang anak perempuan berambut panjang seperti rambutnya, berjalan dalam gandengan seorang lelaki sama yang tadi melambaikan tangan ke arahnya untuk meminta tumpangan. Mereka terus berjalan menuju kegelapan.[]
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