Livora Gracely

Two men had found the woman of their dreams.
Unfortunately, it was the same woman.

The dalang lifted his right hand.

One puppet stepped forward.

“I saw her first.”

His left hand moved.

The second puppet immediately objected.

“You saw the market first. She happened to be standing in it.”

The woman sat between them.

Silent.

This was apparently interpreted as encouragement.

The first man straightened his shoulders.

“I have land.”

“I have more.”

“I own three buffalo.”

“I own four.”

One hand moved.

Then the other.

The dalang was becoming remarkably busy for a man who had no romantic problems of his own.

“I can build her a house!”

“I already have a house!”

“Your roof leaks.”

“That is ventilation.”

The woman remained seated.

Behind the white screen, the dalang suppressed a smile.

The argument improved.

One man claimed he could write poetry.

The other claimed poetry was useless and announced that he could repair a roof.

This briefly gave him an advantage.

Then the poet pointed out that it was his roof that leaked.

The advantage disappeared.

Their voices grew louder.

“I am handsome.”

“According to whom?”

“My mother.”

There was a pause.

Even the dalang needed a moment.

Then the two continued.

One promised gold.

The other promised devotion.

One offered a horse.

The other offered two buffalo and, after some hesitation, a chicken.

The chicken had not been consulted.

All the while, the woman sat perfectly still between them.

Finally, one suitor turned toward her.

“Choose!”

The other nodded.

“Yes. Tell him.”

For the first time that evening, she moved.

Both men leaned closer.

The audience did too.

The dalang gently lowered the female puppet’s hand.

“I have been listening carefully,” she said.

The two men smiled.

“At last.”

She looked left.

Then right.

“You both speak beautifully about what you own.”

The men stood taller.

“But neither of you has asked what I want.”

Silence.

One puppet slowly lowered his arm.

The other seemed suddenly fascinated by the floor.

Behind the screen, the dalang relaxed both wrists.

He had spent fifteen minutes making two men argue.

The woman had defeated both with one sentence.

Then she stood.

“Besides,” she added, “I already like someone.”

Both puppets snapped upright.

“WHO?”

She smiled.

The dalang lowered the curtain.

Some mysteries deserved a second performance.