They all laughed together. He had certainly been fretting and acting the part of an impatient mother, though the role did not suit him at all. Now their joking helped relieve the tension, for the skillful exchange of proverbs was considered high art and an ageless form of amusement in the fishing community. Both Nasir an Ahmad Daud were true masters, but Mahmud could only envy their wit."Perhaps he is not coming by bus," the tall one said. "Did he not write to say he was buying a a car? I would certainly like to see it."
Ahmad Daud shook his head. "What man goes to sea in leather shoes, Mahmud?"
They laughed together once more. "I'm sorry," his friend chuckled. "It was just a thought."
Nasir lit a cigarette, which the three companions shared as they waited by the edge of the road. Their shadows had become quite long behind them. Across the road in the underbrush, a few monkeys were chattering ceaselessly. As the men listened, they occasionally caught sight of one orange and brown monkey with a smaller one clinging to its back. It would walk cautiously to the banana trees nearest the highway, look out at the men, and then scurry back to the safety of the rain forest. Ahmad Daud and his friends smiled each time they saw the small face peer out at them. Time passed.
Finally, the bus arrived and Yusri stepped down, suitcase and presents in hand. "Father," he said. "Am I late?"
Ahmad Daud's eyes glistened and his vice was weak, but he managed to smile and answered, "A few years late, sir. Only a few."
Then they embraced, though Yusri's arms hung heavily burdened at his sides. He had returned.
"Look!" cried Mahmud, pointing at Yusri's feet. "Leather shoes!"
They all looked down at Yusri's clay-covered shoes. Yusri shivered. Would they understand if he told the whole story? Would they think him a fool? How could he possibly deserve the love and admiration they granted so easily if they knew the truth?
It was Nasir who broke the silence. "Hot sands burn even the Sultan's feet," he stated casually.
Yusri realized the opportunity and rejoined, "And the wart on his toe is quickly known on both coasts."
They laughed together freely. He was home.
"This man must truly be your son, Ahmad Daud," noted Mahmud. Yusri put down his bags and took his father's hands in his own. He felt a great warmth growing deep in his chest. How much he had missed these people, yet he had been almost too busy to notice. Now their simple manner, the sight of the coconut palms so nearby, the scent of salt on the breeze; Yusri's mind was a flood of memories. Handing the green bag to Mahmud, he said, "My wife, Nadia, sends her regards. These gifts are for all to share. I wish there were more."
Ahmad Daud's eyes were wet, but he held back the tears and said to his son, "You have arrived safely, Yusri. Such is present enough for us all."
"Allah be praised," said Nasir.
"Allah be praised," the others repeated. They together, the four men started down the little dirt path which led to Kampong Maju where the real celebration would begin.
