Raja Doli Martua was a wise king in the ancient days of the Batak lands. Every time he spoke to the assembly, the elders were full of admiration for his fair words and knowledge. He was also a very rich man, but he had no children. In this, he knew, he was poorer than the poorest father in his kingdom. He married a second wife, then a third--one from a very prolific family--but his dearest wish was not fulfilled. Finally he prayed to the great God Mulojadi: "Oh, Grandfather, please hear me. You have given seven sons to my brother. If you will not give me seven sons, give me six, if not six, give me five, if not five, then four, or three or two or even only one, but let me not die childless."

Some months after his fervent prayer, the king's third wife told him she was pregnant. In due course she gave birth. But the child was malformed, worse than any child ever born. It was only half a boy: half a head, one leg, one arm, half a back, one eye, one ear, half a nose, half a chest, one buttock. So they called him Siaji Sambola, "the one who has only one side."

The boy did not die, as everyone expected, but grew up as normally as was possible considering his condition. He learned to talk with his half mouth and got about by hopping on his one leg. Naturally he was an unhappy child, subject to melancholy. Most evenings he could be seen sitting in front of his father's palace, staring toward the western sky. One day, however, when he was fully grown, he decided that he had had enough of dreaming. He would go out in search of Mulojadi, the Creator and forefather of all Bataks. So he limped away with his stick in his one hand, in the direction of the sunset.

He had been told by the elders that the gateway to heaven was in the far west. Would he get the other half of his body there? When he eventually reached the horizon, Mulojadi sent down Mandi, his messenger swallow, to pick up the boy. The giant swallow said to Siaji Sambola: "Come and sit between my wings and I will take you up to Heaven."

Before the throne of the Almighty, the half-boy squatted down reverently and said: "Grandfather, why did you make me different from other boys? People mock me, making me more unhappy than I already am. No girl looks at me except in disgust. None will marry me, although my father can pay a larger bride-price than any other. Great God, I am in search of completeness. Give me a whole body!"

"Your halfness is the result of the disobedience of your tondi (double-soul)," answered God. "It did not enter a good body, as I had told it to do. Tondis are impatient to live. In their haste, some pick a leaf from the tree of life without looking at the inscription. It may contain an evil destiny. Such people may become thieves and murderers. Come with me to the Sixth Heaven, and I will show you what happened in your case."

In a moment God and the half-boy descended from the Seventh to the Sixth Heaven. There, Mulojadi spoke: "See, my little son, your tondi was given a complete body. We had assigned to it a beautiful future, a great destiny. But your tondi said: 'This fate is too heavy, it will take me too long to carry it to earth. Can you cut it in half, please?' So, I cut your destiny in half and your body with it, for only that which the soul has chosen itself will develop. But for once--as I feel pity for you--I will grant you what is not usually given to men: to choose again. Here, I spread out for you your destinies. Now, select with care. You will have no third choice."

There, before Siaji Sambola's one eye, several lives unfolded: a life full of travel, another loaded with love and hate, another full of toil, and a life like his father's, filled with royal responsibility. But the half-boy wearied of his task. "Please, Grandfather," he complained. "All these lives are much too heavy for me, I cannot carry them. Look at all these emotions, labors and responsibilities! They would crush me or wear me down. I understand now. Can I please have my original, light destiny back?"

Siaji Sambola, the boy who has only one side.

Mulojadi put the half-boy into the iron melting pot that he keeps ready for the purpose. Six times the half-boy failed to get a new, whole body. Only the seventh time did a complete body emerge, light and airy, fragile and unstable, but outwardly complete. So at last Siaji Sambola could go home, a whole man.