The Play

Niar sat in front of Andre, at the same cafe, at the same table where they were going out for the first time five-six months ago. Andre asked her to meet here this afternoon after work.
Andre's face looked strained, or possibly nervous. Niar was no less anxious to see her lover.

"Ni, I want to apologize," Andre started to get into the real conversation.
"For what?"
"All I have said and done"
"What are you talking about Ndre, don't act weird ..."
Andre drank his juice once, "I ... could no longer continue our relationship. "
After saying that Andre looked afar out the window, not daring to look at Niar.
Niar looked at Andre incredulously, "Ndre ... did I hear youwrong ? "
Andre shook his head.
"What have I done?"
"You have done nothing."
"Then why ..."
"I was wrong. All this time. "
"What do you mean?"
Andre drank the juice again, as this conversation has dried his throat.
"Once again, before, I apologize. Because I've actually never really fell in love with you. "
"What? Then why .. "
"I ... I just wanted to know, what it's like going out with another man's wife. "
Andre would shatter his own head to reveal this. He knew Niar would be hit. But he thought better this way than letting things more excessive.
"Ndre ... how could you ... "
"Yeah, I could. I'm evil. I'm cruel. Say what you want. But I can not pretend any longer. I don't want you to feel deeper. My responsibility on how you feel will be bigger then. So ... let's cut this out, now. "
"You ..."
"Sorry. Sorry ... "
Niar's eyes began to glaze. She seemed to want to say something but stuck in the throat.
"I want to thank you for all your affection for me all this time," said Andre, "but ... I guess ... I have to finish my play. I'm sorry. I want you to know that as long as I have been with you ... "
Niar stood and spoiled her tea into Andre's face, "Enough, I don't want to hear ..." Then went away.
Andre rubbed his face. Bend the table.

***

Niar parked his car in the garage. Her husband's car was not there, so he's not home yet. Raihan greet her once she got out of the car. She embraced her only child, and held out the cake she bought earlier.
Niar couldn't bear to go to her room soon. Raihan followed her around but she softly shoo him away, she wanted to be alone.
"Just a moment, dear. Mama want to change first. Later after that we'll play, ya. Why don't you open the cake while waiting? "
Raihan left.
Niar entered the room and locked the door. Dropped her bag on the floor just like that. Collapsed onto the mattress, take a pillow to cover her head and then laughed loudly.
She's been thinking a way to speak to Andre, to end their love affair. Niar felt Andre loved her more each day, and that would be dangerous. She never thought Andre himself will come with the problem solving, without Niar should feel guilty.
Okay, it's done. Niar hoped Andre will never know, that Niar also just wanted to know, what it's like dating a boy who was 15 years younger than her ... Read more!

the fire works tonight

Once again I looked at the tiny thing.
"Tomorrow I'm going to pick it up here, ya. Please keep it for me. If I don’t come at seven, and any one wants it, give it. Maybe I don’t deserve it, "I told the shop keeper. He smiled, nodded.

The tiny objects, which I ordered it to pay tomorrow, I would give to Mur, my beloved. Ah ... I dunno. We never pledged our selves as lovers. We just grew up together since childhood. Exactly, I have been keeping Mur since she was born.

I was seven years old when Mur was born. In my house. Not intentionally. Lik Har, Mur's mother, that time, knocked on my door. Early in the dawn. I opened the door, just walked home from Shubuh prayer at the mosque. Lik Har grimaced bit his lip, her left hand holding the wall, and her right hand was clutching her big tummy.

"Lik? Lik Har, what’s wrong with you stomach Lik? "I asked, panicked, then shouted for Mom and Dad.

Mother from the kitchen, father from the room, rushing forward to find Lik Har who suddenly not strong enough to stand. Together they carried Lik Har to couch in the living room. I was still paused at the door, not knowing what to do.

"I ... ah ... like it's time Yu ... Mas Yoto... ah ... is working tonight .. " Lik Har moaning, I got to go hiss. It seems incredible pain.

"Call Yoto’s office, Mas ... or should we just call the midwife? Or directly bring Har to the hospital? "She looked panicked as well.

Lik Yoto, Lik Har’s husband, is a warehouse security guard at a furniture factory. Actually, of course there are phones there. But Lik Har does not have a phone at home. That's why she came to our house to get help for it. That was not a cell phone season. And in the crowded villages where we live, the nearest house that had a phone is our home.

Dad told me to spread the mat and took the pillow. Lik Har laid there. Mother called the midwife. Then call Lik Yoto. But before one of them arrived, Mur was born. And I ... ah, Dad and Mom might be too panicked and I forgot I was there. Yes, I saw how Mur came to this world. I saw the struggling of the baby and mother. Amazing little creature that looks so fragile ...

Since that time, grew in me a desire to protect her. Every day before and after school, I see baby Mur. I accompanied her playing since she was still crawling. Walk. Run. Cycling. Flying kites.

When she started school, I help her studying. If there is a naughty school friend, to me she asked for help. People around us seemed to understand our closeness, and never question anything. The kids my age peers never made fun of us 'going out', as they usually do to boys and girls who hang out too close. They know the story about me helping Mur’s birth ...

I never thought about, how they see me and Mur. I myself never even thought about how the definition of my relationship with Mur.

The time will soon come.


***

Eight years ago, when I started college in another city, Mur entered junior high. I came home every other week, sometimes once a month. Seeing Mur at such intervals, presents a surprise to me every time. Mur suddenly has become a girl. Whether the return of the number, I realized she was no longer a kid who always looked after. Blame me, my caress has been contaminated with love.

I never express it. And I do not see the need. I know, fate had written Mur to be mine.

I remember, the year I asked for permission to Lik Har and Lik Yoto to take Mur to see fireworks in new year’s eve. Mur was too happy she danced when they said yes. She hug me, jumping up and down. From the front, from the side, from behind.

"Hush, Mur. What a bad behavior. You are a big girl, not a child, "scolded his mother.

Since then, every year, I go with Mur to see the fireworks. From year to year, every year, I was amazed at the look in her eyes. It never changed. Like my happiness that never stop, seeing every happiness in her eyes.

Even when finally I worked in Jakarta, I still get home at least every three months. Included at the end of the year. I could not resist too long to miss my Mur. Yes yes yes ... now the phone is no longer such a rare commodity like at her birth. I could feel the joy in every vibrating voice I heard. But nothing can replace seeing his eyes light up whenever she feels happiness.

This year will be the fourth year of my staying in Jakarta. Mur had graduated high school, and work in a shop in downtown. I suggest her to go to college, but she said, she did not want to burden her parents. Only his father works. And still had two more brothers that still must be financed.

It doesn’t matter for me. I do not mind having a wife graduated from high school level, as long as she's as special as Mur. Maybe later, I will ask Mur to just stay home. I will be the one to make a living.

Ah ... my imagination. Yes. This year, I would propose her. I have not said anything to her, yet also to Lik Har or Lik Yoto. I wanted to make a surprise for Mur in the fireworks-night this year. Mur first, then afterward I would formally propose to her parents.

Last week I called Mur, telling about my plan to go home.

"God willing I can go home this end of the year, Mur. We will watch fireworks again. And… I have a surprise for you "

"What is it? A gift? Wa .... this should be good, you are now a big company employee. You must also have large salary. What is it Mas? What what what? "

"Halah, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I say it now. But I hope you'll like it. Be patience, okay? "

"I know I would like it. You always knew the things that I like "

I just laughed.

"I also have a surprise for you"

"Oh really? What?"

"No surprise if I tell you now."

Of course.

***

I arrived just a day before the end of the year. Along the way I tried to guess what the surprise Mur will give me.

Is she going to dress up as pretty as possible to go out with me? Or she also bought a small gift for me, with her salary as a clerk? Or she'll kiss me? I was ashamed imagining it, and unconsciously rubbed my cheek.

The afternoon of December 31, after maghrib. I feel less and less better. Excitement waiting to see Mur, and prepare the simple words but nice to make her bloom. Slowly I approached the house fence.

"Assalamu'alaykum" I said.

"Wa'alaikum salam," Mur was sitting in the living room, then stood up to me. A young man, probably my age, still in his seat, turned and smiled at me.
Without hesitation Mur held my hand, took me inside.

"Mas, this is a surprise that I told yesterday "

I do not want to accept the allegations that had suddenly flashed in my mind. No. Hopefully not. I will not be able to...

"This is Mas Fath. My boyfriend, "Murray smiled looked embarrassed for a while," my supervisor at office... " she continued in a whisper in my ear.

I shook his hand firmly, smile as hard as most happy, for Mur.

"Do you bring the surprise for me?" Said Mur spoiled.

I nodded. Mur clapped a little, smiling widely.

***

Mur forced me to go along with her and Fath. Oh ... dear, how can I? I have given that tiny five grams necklace I bought. I said I'll watch the fireworks with Gun, my high school friend.

But I went alone to the Marina beach. Without Mur. Without her bright eyes of amazement. I was alone. Watching the explosions of fireworks in the sky. That blew my dreams. Blew my love. Blew me.

* as in Cempaka Minggu Ini *

Read more!

Genderuwo

note: Genderuwo is one of Javanese male ghost. It is believe to appear as a black big hairy stinky image. They like to have sex with human by showing up as a man. And (some people believe) the women could have baby from the activity.

The sun has just greeted Dhuha. Net walked half running passing through Mbah Mis’s house.
"Net! Why do you hurry so? Where are you from?" said Mbah Mis half shouted from the veranda of his house.
Net stopped, turned her head to the right, left, to the rear. Silence for a moment, then decided to stop by. She sat beside the Mbah Mis.
"From Lik Tuk’s house, Mbah.”
"Why so hurry?"
"Ah, nothing. I want soon get to home. Take a shower, then back to Lik Tuk again." She paused and then continued, "E ... I ... just bathed Rim’s baby’s dead body, Mbah."
"Inna lillah! Babies? What baby? When was the birth then suddenly it is dead? When did Rim pregnant? "Mbah Mis strafed Net with questions that suddenly strafed her own head.
"I do not know Mbah." Hissing, Net seek forgiveness several times and then continued, "The baby was a boy, Mbah. E ... and ... ah .... His whole body was hairy. Thick."
Mbah Mis-Mouth wide open with the palm of his right hand. She shuddered. Her eyes stared at Net unblinking. Full of questions but not clear what the questions were.
Net stood, "I go home, Mbah. If Mbah want to go there, I'll stop by here on my way there."



***
About eight-nine months ago, Rim was gone for three days. The whole hamlet joined the search in the forests. Some people suggested Tuk to ask a help from a paranormal, but Tuk refused. He also did not want to report this to the police. He said, if Rim could not be found in a week, he will do both at once: for help from paranormal and the police.
Third day seeking Rim, in the afternoon before evening prayer, everyone had just left. Tuk also just entered the house after thanked for their assistance. Tuk suddenly got out again and shouted, "Rim's home! Rim's home!"
Every one turned back to Tuk’s home right away. Noise, of course. Tuk put his finger on his lips, asking for everybody to be quiet.
"Excuse me, but please be quiet. I do not want to interfere Rim, she seemed a little dazed," he said.
"She’s back? Where is she now?" asked Mr. Bayan.
"Inside, sir. At room. I had back, went straight to take bath. I saw Rim entered from the back door. Still wearing the clothes she wears four days ago. Her body was clean, hair neat, too. I was wrong, I guess. I immediately asked her where she’s been, with who, why. She cried. So I think I should let her take some rest in the room first, let her calm. I'll be ask her slowly."
"Can I see her? Only me, let the others stay here," said Mr. Bayan.
Tuk paused before finally saying, "Okay, Mr. Bayan. We apologize, others. I do not want to make Rim more nervous."
Mr. Bayan was only allowed to take a peek through door aperture, to see that Rim has really gone home. Without the voice of Mr. Bayan got closer and peered inside. In the dim light Rim was sitting in bed hugging her knees. As Tuk said, her hair neatly tied. Tears were overflowing her face.
They went out again. From mosque adzan was shouting calling for everyone to come and pray, but people were still waiting. Apparently could not help but wonder what has happened.
"Yeah, I saw him. I think we’d better go home now. Let Rim feel better. Later Lik Tuk will ask for explanations slowly," explained Mr. Bayan.
"Yeah right. I apologize for troublesome for days. Thank you very much. I am also confused what has happened. Later, if Rim speaks, God willing, I'll tell all, what has happened with her. Forgiveme, forgive the inconveniences. Thank you, thank you very much everyone, "Tuk bent his bow-in-the asserted saying his apology and thanks.
The next day the news spread. During the three days lost, Rim could see all the people who seeked her. She wanted to call and tell that she was fine, but no one was looking at her or hear her voice. Rim said, according to Tuk, she was taken by a dashing handsome man, to a magnificent and beautiful palace...
***
Rim is Tuk’s only daughter. The only one Tuk lived with, since his wife died of dengue fever three years ago. They live in the southern edge of the village. Most edge, at the foot of the hill, close to the forest.
Rim is 16. She just graduated elementary school two years ago. Everyone knew Rim was not smart kid and had a couple of times stayed at the same grade. Even according to the news circulated, she was let be graduated because the teacher could not wait to teach her any longer.
In the last two years, Rim became very quiet and closed. Rarely out of the house. At first her girl friends still came visit her. But Rim really lost joy and cheerfulness, so they felt uncomfortable. No one dared to ask Tuk or Rim what has happened.
TUk once told about the changes in Rim, to his nearest neighbor, Dhe To. Tuk said, Rim changed to be like that since her love was rejected by Kus, son of Mr. Lurah who is currently studying in college in Solo.
Since the incident where she was gone for three days, nobody ever sees Rim got out the house.
***
Net and Jan sat in front of Mbah Mis’s house. Mbah Mis down the floor, leaning against the pole. They had just returned home from Tuk’s house. A lot to talk about. But they were too afraid.
"What are you thinking Mbah?" Jan started the conversation.
"Thinking of what? I did not dare to think of anything. If I say it but it was wrong, that would be a mistake I make."
"Oh, Mbah. This is between us. Just a little sharing between the hearts…"
Net said, "Frankly I was a little shudder when thinking about this. This morning when I bathed the baby, my body was shaking. Never once before. I also dare not to comment. Rim also said nothing and coul not be questioned. I just asked to Lik Tuk when the birth, and the death was."
"What did Tuk say?" asked Mbah Mis.
"Yes, like everyone discussed. Some time before maghrib Lik Tuk heard someone knocking on the door of his house. But when he opened it there was noone. He also heard a few people who are rushing noise like doing something, but it is not clear from which direction the sound was. He even had surrounded the house many times. When the voices were gone, Rim came out of the room with the baby, dead ... "
"So, all this time Rim was in pregnancy? We do not know it, because she never left the house. Today, is about nine months since the incident she she was gone for three days. Is it?" asked Mbah Mis.
"Mbah, can people have a child from ghosts?" asked Jan.
"Hush! Astaghfirullah. Naudzubillah naudzubillah naudzubillah! Be careful what you say Jan. Only Allah knows best. I do not know."
"What do you mean Mbah? So why did you bring us to calculate the time between the incident by now? Yeah sure it was the first thing going through my head, Mbah!"
"Sh ... Stop it. I do not want to talk about this. You go home now. Not good gossiping about death."
Jan and Net up, left Mbah Mis.
***
Day seven Eidil Fitri, six months since the death of Rim’s. Nok planned to go back to Jakarta the next day. That afternoon he took time to stop by Tuk’s house, almost forgotten to visit.
Nok invited to enter. Nok greeted Tuk, saying 'sorry physically and spiritually' and then sat on the bench.
"Sorry Nok. I have nothing to serve. I do not have time to find treats for Eidil Fitri. Ah, I still feel worry about Rim"
"Rim? Oh, I do not see Rim. Where is she?"
Tuk suddenly muffled sob.
"I do not know what we have done wrong Nok, why something like this happen again to Rim."
"What?"
"Rim is gone again, Nok, don’t you know?"
"No Lik. When? Why did not anyone help to seek? I remembered, she once was gone, but then went home herself. How did it happen this time? Why didn’t anyone tell about this?"
Tuk wiped his tears, "Today is exactly forty days, Nok"
Nok stupendous surprise, "Forty days? That means it happened before the fasting month?"
Tuk nodded, "I'm just waiting for her to come home Nok. Once she was gone for three days. It’s been forty days now. I do not know how long, but I'm sure she'll come home. "
"Oh God what are you thinking Lik? Are you not worried what might happen with Rim? She's a girl!"
"I understand your concern, Nok. But I'm sure you do not understand how I feel. I'm not asking you to. Let me go through all this."
Nok did not believe it. But Tuk was right, he also could not understand how Lik Tuk feels. So he chose to leave, "I hope Rim will be home soon. I will have to go back to Jakarta to run my business tomorrow. Wish me luck, Lik"
"Yes Nok. Thank you. We’ll pray for each other…"
***
Tuk walked Nok to the fence, and got inside and shut the door. The tears began to flow again when he entered Rim’s room. Sobbing he sat on Rim’s bed.
When he realized Rim pregnant last year, he easily made the story 'Rim was missing taken by genderuwo'. These villagers are still strongly believe the things superstitious and mystical. He told Rim to stay hiding in the house. People believed that Rim was missing and spread into the forest looking for her, no one search the house. Actually he wanted Rim to get 'gone' much longer. But after three days, Rim could not stand it and threatened to scream. Tuk was forced to accept the offer to let Rim 'home'. At least he had succeeded in making people think that the baby Rim born was son of Genderuwo. Better that way.
This time actually Tuk to wamted it that way again. But Rim could no longer deal with the bargain. She did not want to pretend to be lost. She refused to hide herself at home. She threatened to show herself and let people know she was pregnant. She'd tell people who was the father of the baby inside, which was also the father of the dead baby six months ago. The father who covered the baby’s nose and mouth until it was dead. Rim really did not care disgrace. The threat that Tuk would kill her did not work anymore. Even when Tuk brandished his scythe in front of her, she offered her neck.
"Kill me. Kill me Dad! I would rather die than live like this!"
Tuk went crazy. Although the distance to the nearest neighbors house no less than six hundred yards, he worried Rim would scream louder. So swing the scythe.
For a long time, indefinitely, he will not approach the bushes at the south corner of his field, where he has buried Rim. He will memorize Rim off here, in her room ...

Read more!

the plan

aL and I face to face. a low round table with a tiny glass of oil between us. wicked on a thread, floating on a three clover shaped cork. why didn’t they make it four?

aL blew her smoke on me, I coughed, she laughed.

"I remember that exhibist near my campus" she said.

"why?"

"he liked it when his victim scream or scared. but some one has shrunk him and made him gone forever

"oh ya? who? how? "

"I did. I stared at what he showed me. I told him, his penis was ugly, small, and it didn’t attract me at all. the thing shrank. he was ashamed and gone "

aL roared. I was dumbfounded.

"that's what we should do to those crazy people who bombed those hotels," she said again.

"do what...?"

"shrink them"

"how?"

"show them that the action was stupid and useless," aL put her smoke down to the ashtray.

I just wait. aL has begun to bend her body to me, ready to spoil more advanced sentence.

"I am resentful that SBY was afraid to come to the location right then. with the reason that the location has not been sterilized. even showed us an evidence that he was once a sniper target. "

"that’s normal, right?"

"no it’s not! it is normal that he was a target. come on, he is #1 person in this country. but if he is afraid to be shot, don't show up everywhere. no need to visit here and there, nor open the car window, nor wave his hand to the people awaiting for him along the road. just dwell in the palace. or ride an anti-bomb car.. "

"I think he was just being aware. in normal situations he can move freely. but in this case ... "

"in the situation like now, it IS stupid to shoot the president in the bomb location. too many police. what seem normal and safe is some times actually dangerous "

tension in aL's face started flagging. again she relied. her legs raised, be embraced. eyes closed. and began to speak again, as in the delirious mumble.

"who can convince the world that Indonesia is safe, if not us, the Indonesian? president SBY has been so silly. pretending that he was worried that Manchester United would cancel their visit. but he him self could not ensure that Indonesia is safe. even scared the world by himself did not dare to come to the location of the incident. no wonder if MU finally decided not to come "

" people died aL ... beside, may be our government couldn’t give them security guarantees"

aL revived.

"so what? every one could die anytime, any where. you can not avoid death. if SBY did not come to the location, is there any guarantee that he would be safe anyway? at least don’t make it look worse. that’s the plan. that’s what the terrorists wanted, to scare us. don’t you get it ....?" aL seemed so annoyed.

"are you annoyed because MU canceled their visit?"

"I don’t really care about MU. I am annoyed because SBY has made the terrorist thought they succeeded scaring people"

aL slammed her body again. another brake again. shut up. I thought aL was right.

the news flash in the TV was still about what we were talking about. this time it was an interview with one hotel visitor from South Korea, a designer who was in a visit to Indonesia for a fashion show of his latest designs. he said he was okay and didn’t feel any trauma. shortly after the incident he was still running his mission, to prepare all he has planned. he also planned to come again for his next show, next month.

still in eyes closed, aL pointed right to the TV.

"that’s how it should be. don’t give the suicide bomb a damn. never let the terrorists managed to drop our mental. we should drop theirs. their bomb may blow us, but never let them proud for succeeding frightening us. SBY should be ashamed with that Korean designer "

aL asleep, really asleep. snoring. damn.

***

for this week's sundayscribblings prompt: the plan

my deepest sympathy to all victims at JW Marriot and Ritz Carlton, Jakarta. and go to hell who ever has blown your selves together with the bomb...

Read more!

Mau ngga jadi selingkuhanku?

Enak ngga jadi selingkuhanmu?
"Banget," katamu.
Ya, boleh deh. Rasanya seperti anak SMA nembak jadi pacar. Kalau sudah bilang 'ya' terus apa? Apa enaknya selingkuh? Orang selingkuh itu ngapain?
"Mana ku tahu? Aku belum pernah," jawabmu.
Oh, jadi aku bahan percobaan? Aku juga bingung mesti ngapain kalo udah proklamasi 'kita selingkuh'. Kamu panggil aku 'sayang'. Huahahahaha... geli di kuping, dan malah aku bikin tertawa.
"Sudah makan, sayang?"
Eh, memang apa pedulimu aku sudah makan atau belum? Mau nraktir?

***

"Kamu ke sini dong..."
Kenapa ngga kamu aja yang ke sini?
Mau apa memangnya? Biasanya tanpamu dunia baik-baik saja. Aku ga peduli kamu sudah makan atau belum. Aku tidak peduli kamu sibuk atau tidak. Aku tidak peduli kamu kerjakan apa. Juga sebaliknya.
Kenapa tiba-tiba kita harus saling tahu kita sedang apa? Kenapa tiba-tiba pilekku jadi membuatmu khawatir?

***

"Besok aku ke Semarang. Kita ketemu ya?"
Di mana? Jam Berapa? Nah, sekarang aku jadi harus cari alasan supaya bisa pergi sendirian, dan ketemu kamu tanpa ketahuan. Kalau ke tempat yang kau sebut itu, aku takut nanti ketemu anakku di jalan.
"Kita ke Bandungan aja, atau ke Kopeng"
Mau apa ke sana? Kenapa aku bertanya? Mestinya aku bisa menduga apa yang bakalan dilakukan orang yang selingkuh ke sana. Apa kita juga akan melakukannya?
"Kita jalan-jalan saja."
Lalu apa?

***

Sudahlah. Kita putus aja. Selingkuh itu membingungkan buatku. Ribetnya clintat clintut. Pertaruhannya tidak sebanding. Kalo kamu ke Semarang, boleh kita ketemuan. Ajak suamimu, biar kuajak juga anak dan istriku.
Jangan lagi panggil aku 'sayang'. Kau masih boleh telpon, sms, email, chat. Anything. Tapi balikkan bahasamu ke masa kita belum mencoba-coba cari perkara. Begitu lebih nyaman. Dan aman. Read more!

“Jay please listen, this is important!”

He stopped walking and turned around. Finally. For the last couple days I have been trying to tell him about this. But he always said, ‘can we talk about it later?’ or ‘I’m very tired’ or ‘I still have a lot of things to do’ or thousands other reasons.

“This better be really important, ‘cause I have an important meeting at eight”, he said.

“Can we sit down for a while? I…”

“Just say it”

“I’d rather telling you this while we sit and..”

“Just say it”

I have made him stop to listen to me. Do I need to push him to sit down, but then he would walk away instead of listening to what I am about to say?

I took one deep breathe, “I am pregnant”

I knew I wouldn’t find a smiling happy face. But still I was disappointed when I didn’t see it. He opened his mouth, not saying a word. But his eyes asked questions, “What? Are you kidding? Are you crazy? Do you realize what you are talking about?”

I didn’t need to hear anything. He opened the door, got out, and slammed it, left me standing facing it.

***

Pregnant.

Years ago it would have been a good reason. It would make a guy you were crazy about and dying loving, but didn’t love you that much, willing to marry you. You wouldn’t care about what happen next. You could see a divorce right after a baby born. But you always thought you could still hope it wouldn’t happen.

A pregnant would make your parents let a guy you were crazy about and dying loving, and loved you the same 0r more; but they didn’t like, to marry you. You would hope a baby would defrost the ice between you and your parents, and more babies would make them finally see you and your guy were meant to be.

I made myself believe I could use the same reason to make Jay stay. Marriage has been so plain in the last year – if you are too afraid to call it bitter. This house, and me, were no longer home to Jay. I meant, he still came here to go home, and nowhere else. But conversations didn’t go further than ‘where’s my shirt’ or ‘good night’ or ‘I won’t be home for dinner’ or ‘I have to go’.

I couldn’t see what was wrong with us. Things were so good in our first years. He didn’t want children until he reached manager level. Now he has, but still he told me to wait a ‘little more time until we have our life settled’. We never talked about how ‘settled’ was to him or to me. I could take whatever life we had but he still had plans.

I still tried to think positive, until few months ago when we both were ready for bed. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. Listened to his heart beat as I always liked to do.

“Dee, do you still love me?”

I raised my head and looked at him, “What did you just ask me? Off course I still do”

“I’m sorry. Just asking”

He took his arms off me and turned around, and slept. Or, pretended to.

***

It was date 17 last month. We were having a candle light dinner I have arranged two weeks before. A 5^th marriage anniversary should be romantic. I did my best cooking and dressing. Jay, as I asked, got home earlier from work.

He sat across the table. I took his hand and waited for flowers and glittery hearts falling around us. But the love song I played from the CD sounds like a choir of a group of cows. Air freshener lost its power. And I felt so dummy.

“This won’t work, Dee. I’m sorry”, Jay said, and pulled his hand off.

I did my best not to cry. But I couldn’t help my self not to ask why.

“Why, Jay? What has gone wrong? What did I do?”

He shook his head and sighed.

“I don’t know Dee. I can’t tell what is wrong. Or what you did. Nothing’s wrong, and you did nothing. But I just felt this is no longer right. I can no longer feel the comfort staying beside you. I… I… don’t have it no more”

“You don’t have what?”

I wished I hadn’t asked. He didn’t have any feeling for me any more, but he couldn’t tell why.

It just didn’t make sense to me. There is always a reason for everything. I was ready for the worst one. So I wasn’t hurt at all when I, from a corner of a cafe I knew he usually went after work, saw him kissing my best friend.

***

“Please Dee, I can’t”

“I won’t ask for more after this Jay. Make love to me for the last time before you really decide to leave”

“Dee, even if I do it, I wouldn’t do it with love, I can’t hurt you that way. I…”

“I don’t care. I will put all my love in it. Please…”

So we did it. I, as I promised, gave all my love through the play. I cried.

“Why are you crying? See? I shouldn’t have done this if it only made you cry”, Jay felt guilty.

“Did you ever hear about tears of happiness?”

He believed they were tears of happiness. But I knew what they exactly were.

We have gone to the marriage counselor these last two weeks. Things didn’t work well, Jay has really lost his eager to stay with me. I couldn’t think of any other way…

***

He was packing his luggage. Nothing left in the closet. And he didn’t say a word.

“Jay…”

He still didn’t answer me.

“Jay please. I was just trying what I could to make you stay. Jay, give me a chance….”

He walked here and there picking up things and put them in his travel back, while I was following behind him, begging him to stay.

“Jay… I thought a baby would be nice. It will make you a daddy… we will be a real family. We can start all over again. I promise…”

He turned back and yelled at me, “Well you thought wrong! Now will you please step back so I can finish packing and leave?”

I stepped back. I sat on the bed edge. I watched him finishing packing. I watched him walking out the room.

I didn’t follow. I didn’t want to see him walk out the door…

*****

for this weeks sundayscribblings prompt: Listen up, because this is important!

Read more!

Happy birthday, honey….

I said the words to you, then I kissed your chubby cheek, and I hugged you close and tenderly.

Should have been. That’s how it should have been. At least, that’s how I’ve imagined should have been. But look at what I did then. I said this in front of your gravestone. No birthday cake with candle you’d blow with your tiny mouth. Or the warmth of family sitting together. No laugh, spoil pout, funny look, fussy lips and your cheerful face.

Only red soil heap, piled with a stone, written on with your name, your birthday and your pass away date, which even still in the same year. Pain covered my time and space. Tears, sadness, heartache, sorrow….

I spread out the last grab of flowers I brought. I rubbed your epitaph once again, and I sent you a warm loving kiss.

***

You have become my life since the first second I saw you. More than the time I realized your existence inside me. Yes, finding that you are a part of me that I finally could touch and hold. Seeing you so frail, I had to take care of you, protect you. You have became my everything.

Miracle by miracle you brought to my eyes has filled my life and my heart. Endear me, eager to always give you the best, to sacrifice. To give you anything you wish, nothing no for you.

I could still hear you laughing. Your innocent eyes that wouldn’t let me let you hurt. Your humbly mumbling, but I could understand what you desired.

I could still remember every single movement you made, from the simple one, to your first ever step. How you slowly rose up. Then you looked at me who was few steps away. You looked at me like trying to say,’ Mommy, I’m coming to you. Reach for me, don’t let me fall…’ So I reached to you and you move slightly. One step, one more step... faster…. Faster… until you hit me. I hugged you as a congratulations for you effort, and you looked at me with shiny eyes, ‘I did it… I did it…’

I never thought it was the beginning of your end. As you walked more steady and stable, you desire became stronger. You wanted to stop crawling. And you wanted to explore more, to satisfy you curiosity of everything you see, and everything you wanted to see.

***

I stared at you photo again, with the wild flower crown I made for you. The flowers we picked from the garden behind our house. You stood still and let me put it on. Your puffy tiny nose, tell me that you are the most beautiful girl in the world.

‘beauty, na…’

‘Yes, my dear. Na beautiful…’

You, are the most beautiful princess in the world. You are the world to me. Your pass away have grabbed my world, that have became alive with your presence, it grabbed even my whole life before it….

I looked away to the street, through the opened front door. I regret, though I know it is no use, the day I let it open and left you play here alone in this room, while I was preparing water to bathe you. I could still clearly hear the wheels squeaking, and a neighbor screaming.

Frantically I ran out the house and screamed, seeing your little body laid right before that white sedan’s nose, splashed some red on it. My sight suddenly darkened…

I hold your picture tighter close to my chest and feel the pain again. Losing you, my little angel. Everybody told me not to blame myself, but how can I tell myself the same?. Today you should have been one year old. I never wanted to make a big party, with balloons filling the room, or guests bringing presents. I only wanted to be with you, and your dad, thank God for all blesses He gave us, and wish for more to fall over…

I tried to face the reality. But I still can not stop these tears from overflowing each time I remember you, and I remember you in every single beat of my heart….

Happy birthday, Na….

****************

for this week's sundayscribblings prompt: regrets

Read more!

live amazes me every time...

for this week's sundayscribblings prompt, for richer or poorer

Part one

Live amazes me

Like this time. I sat before this amazing bike. It is pink and white with a bell on its right handle. And a basket in front of it, with a picture of a girl wearing pink dress and holding a basketful of wild flowers.

I turned the pedal forward, the back wheel was turning, hypnotizing.

This bike was a present for being upgraded. Not for me, but for Enny.

***

Enny was my neighbor. She was such a lucky girl. Her parents were rich, and she was the only kid. They lived in the big house in front of ours.

I mean, our house was big. But it was still unfinished. The wall was naked, the windows didn’t have glasses, but covered by multiplex. The floor wasn’t concrete or ceramics or wood. It was soil. My dad was still trying to collect more money to finish our house.

Enny’s house was a castle to me. It has two pillars at the front. The windows were wide and all had glass blocked. That’s how our windows would be like, my father said. The curtains were double. First layer was white transparent, the outer layer was glittery and smooth. The floor was shiny and cold. That’s where I and Enny played every time after school.

Enny was a very kind friend. She shared everything she had with me. Her dolls, her cooking toys, her magazines.

She lent me a harmonica. She couldn’t play it but she had the manual book and let me read it. We would be happy if I found a notation of a song and play it. Our favorit song was a Japanese, Kokoronotomo. We didn’t know the words, at all. It just sound good and soft.

In the living room, she had a grand piano. It was kinda weird to me, since nobody in that big house could play it. I wanted to try but wasn’t allowed.

“My Dad said you can play anything I have, but that one”, Enny said.

“It’s. okay, En. It must be so expensive. I’m afraid I would break it, my father wouldn’t be able to pay the reparation bill”

I felt lucky enough to have some of her used dresses. They all were still beautiful, even better than my new ones, dresses that my mother bought in a traditional market.

***

Enny sat across the pink bike and let me admire it.

“Can I borrow it, please?”, I asked, hopefully.

“Sure. But I will try first, you can try after me”, oh wasn’t she an angel?

“Yes. I won’t go far. I will only ride until that cross and turn back. Then we could ride together around the village, what do you think? I will use my own bike”

She nodded.

My bike was just as big as hers. But it was a used one, when my father brought it to me as a new bike. He bought it from a friend. My bike was red, but it’s been faded and turned into brown in some parts. My Father bought a bell and put it on. But it doesn’t have a basket like Enny’s. And the chain cover was gone. But it’s ok, my chain loosen a lot. A case would be an inconvenient to me when I had to fix it up.

Live Amazes me every time.

Enny got this bike for her upgraded from 3^rd to 4^th. I’ve been the 1^st rank since my first report to the last during my three years in elementary school, but my father never gave me any present as an award.

I knew exactly how our condition was. And I would never protest. My father was just a labor while Enny’s father was a governor’s officer. But I was just an eight year old girl, with a jealousy that some times came out, if only Enny wasn’t that kind to me.

*********************************

Part two.

Live amazes me.

Like this time.

A sunny Sunday morning. As my habit I had made, I visit my father at least once a month. I and Dad were sitting in front of our house. The house was now perfect, at least at father's measurement. The walls were covered. The windows had glasses, and the floor was covered with ceramic tile

Enny came out of her house. She smiled at me and said. “Morning, Nil. When did you come?”

I walked closer to the fence so I didn’t have to yell answering her.

“Last night. Where are you going?”

“See my shop”

“Oh, the cafe. How is it going?”

“What café? It’s just a coffee shop. Almost zero visitor. I guess I’ll have to close it in a mean time. But as long as it is open, I have to run it, right?”

I nodded and waved my hand as she went away with her motor bike

I looked at the house and try to remember when was the last time I explored farther than guest room. It is still big. The curtains have been changed. But I really had no idea what was more inside.

Since I was in high school, I had less time interacting with Enny. I was too busy. Busy studying. My father promised me, I could go to college but only if I got scholarship. Of course, my father wouldn’t have money to pay my study in university without it. And busy working as a part timer, because I needed more money to buy books and all my needs.

My father has retired four years ago. I have finished studying and so has my little sister. I’ve got married and work at a lawyer firm with my husband. And I have two wonderful children.

Enny has finished colleging too. But still hasn’t got a job. She hasn’t got married, more over having children. And she still lives with her father who has retired two years before my father. She opened a café, I can barely remember when. But she said it didn’t give enough benefits. She kept running it just to give her something to do. She just said that she might have to close it.

“I often feel sad about that friend of yours”, Dad said, I get sat back beside him.

“Why?”

“Can’t you see?”

“I might see it, but in other way”

“How do you see it?”

I raised my shoulders.

“I can not explain it exactly. It’s just… ugh… how live has turned upside down. I used to feel jealous to Enny when I was kid”

“Do you think Enny’s the one who is feeling jealous to you now??”

“I’m not saying that. But, seeing how she is now… “ I shook my head again, ” I’d rather be who I was and who I am now. I was poor then, but I can have all I need now. More than I’ve ever hoped for, more than my child hood dream”

“What was your child hood dream?”

“My kids to have a better live than I had”

“Has it been?”

“It has been, a lot”

Live amazes me. Like now. My younger kid run while laughing, and ploughed into my lap.

“Diane Mom… Diane...”

Behind her, Diane, my eldest, run over and hugged her from back.

“Hey… hey… what is this...?”, I asked.

“Diane wanted to kiss me with her nose..”

“What is wrong with that?”

“She put dried snot on it....”

I held Diane’s chin and raised her face up. Oh, I could see a big one. How gross. I flicked it away and she spontaneously looked for it.

We all haw-hawed.

I pierced to the house across the street. The house, that I didn’t know why, has lost its grace beyond my eyes. All my child hood memories of its luxury have faded away with time.

My live now is far below the glory that once overshadowed that house. But really, happiness, in the end, wasn’t all about it, at all.

Read more!

Sabtu sore yang mendung....

Di tengah lapangan SD di pingggir desa, sekumpulan anak sedang bermain kasti. Matahari sudah hampir jatuh di garis cakrawala, tapi permainan sedang seru-serunya. Kelompok pemukul bola hampir meloloskan semua pelarinya. Pitik si pemukul terakhir memukul keras, tepat mengarah ke tangkapan Bayu.Bayu memegang bolanya, tapi tiba-tiba terpaku. Penonton berteriak-teriak untuk dia melakukan sesuatu.

“Yu! Lempar ke sini cepat!!”, teriak Wawan yang menghadang di dekat penclokan terakhir.
Tapi Bayu masih membeku.
Teman sekelompoknya ribut berseru. Pemain lawan sudah berlari dan menyentuh empat tongkat yang ditancapkan di sudut-sudut lapangan.
Satu…
Dua…
Tiga…

Empat pelari sudah masuk ke garis rumah. Tinggal Pitik yang masih kurang satu penclokan lagi.
“Bayu! Jangan ngalamun! Bolanya-bolanya-bolanya…!!!” teman-temannya mulai marah.
Bayu tergagap. Dilemparnya bola ke arah Wawan yang menangkap dengan sigap dan siap menghadang Pitik.

Bayu tidak menghiraukan lagi bolanya, tidak peduli teman-temannya, tidak menggubris permainannya. Sekuat tenaga dia berlari meninggalkan lapangan menuju rumahnya. Meninggalkan Wawan yang terbengong-bengong. Meninggalkan Pitik yang berlari terus melewati garis.

Semua pemain kelompok Pitik sudah masuk garis, bersorak berjingkrak memenangkan satu putaran. Bola masih di tangan Wawan, yang terdiam bersama kelompoknya yang sedang berjaga. Dibantingnya bola ke tanah, tanpa ampun. “Sialan Bayu!. Cah edan! Kenapa sih anak itu?”

***

Bayu terus berlari seperti kesetanan. Membelok di dua tikungan, melewati jembatan, membuyarkan sekumpulan ayam yang sedang mencari makan. Membiarkan Mbah Tumi berteriak, “Le… Yu! Ada apa kamu kok lari kaya gitu…?”

Bapak datang, aku harus pulang. Bapak datang, aku harus pulang. Bapak datang, aku Harus pulang.

Hanya itu yang terus diucapkannya dalam hati dan kepalanya. Langkahnya melambat ketika memasuki gang depan rumahnya, semakin lambat di depan pintu masuk pekarangannya, dan berhenti dua meter di depan pintu rumahnya.

Sesaat dia terdiam, memandang ke dalam. Sepi.

Perlahan langkahnya memasuki bagian depan rumah yang luas dan lengang. Kakinya terus mengayun pelan menuju ruang makan yang tak beda senyapnya. Penuh ragu dibukanya pintu kamar barat yang nyaris tak pernah dibuka.

Gelap. Pengap. Dan tidak ada siapa-siapa. Tidak ada suara, hanya nafasnya sendiri yang sedikit tersengal setelah berlari pulang dari lapangan.

Bayu berbalik dan berjalan menuju dapur. Mbah Putri sedang membetulkan letak kayu dan meniup api di tungku.

“Mbah…”, panggilnya pelan. Tapi tak urung membuat Mbahnya terkejut.“Hey, Le… Mbah ngga denger kamu masuk. Kamu kenapa, kok menggeh-menggeh gitu?”

Bayu mendekat dan jongkok di samping Mbah Putri.

“Bapak mana, Mbah?”

Mbah Putri meletakkan kayu, mengusapkan kedua tangannya ke kainnya yang sudah bertabur abu, lalu membelai rambut cucunya penuh kasih.

“Bapakmu masih di Lombok, Le…”“Tapi tadi aku merasa Bapak datang. Aku merasa Bapak sudah di rumah, dan membawakan aku oleh-oleh banyak…”

Mbah Putri merengkuh Bayu ke dalam peluknya.

“Belum, Le. Bapakmu belum pulang”

Bayu meringkuk. Air matanya mulai mengalir di kedua pipinya.

“Kapan Bapak pulang, Mbah?”
“Tiga bulan lagi, tiga bulan lagi. Sabar ya Le, cah bagus..”
“Aku kangen Bapak Mbah..”
“Aku tahu Le. Tapi Bapakmu harus cari uang di sana. Sabarlah, tiga bulan lagi dia akan datang, membawakanmu oleh-oleh, banyak…”

Bayu terisak. Bahunya berguncang.

“Kamu mau baca lagi surat Bapakmu?”

Bayu menggeleng, lalu bangun dan berjalan menuju kamarnya.
Dipandanginya potret yang selalu berdiri di meja belajarnya. Bapak, Ibu, dia. Setelah menikah, kedua orang tuanya merantau ke Lombok. Dia masih sempat tinggal bersama mereka di sana beberapa masa. Tapi sejak TK, dia ditinggal di desa, menemani Mbah Putri yang sendiri. Bapak dan Ibu hanya pulang dua kali setahun.

Dua tahun terakhir, hanya Bapak yang pulang setiap enam bulan, Ibu sudah meninggal karena kanker payudara. Dua tahun terakhir, hanya Bapaknya yang dinanti-nantikannya.
Diingatnya lagi, memang baru tiga bulan yang lalu Bapak pulang. Jadi Mbah Putri benar, dia harus menunggu tiga bulan lagi.

Ayat-ayat suci Al-Qur’an terdengar dilantunkan dari masjid di belakang rumah. Sebentar lagi maghrib. Bayu meletakkan foto itu, dan beranjak untuk mandi lalu pergi ke masjid. Dia akan memohon kepada Allah untuk kesehatan Bapak, agar dia bisa bertemu dengannya, tiga bulan lagi…
Berbagi Read more!

Aku menggali keyakinanku (2)

Bisa kurasa nafasku tak lagi memburu. Dan jantungku tak lagi berpacu. Hanya peluhku masih mengalir, membasahi rambutku. Mengalir lewat di sela kedua mata, di tepi bibir, ke dagu. Bertemu dengan yang mengalir menyusur telinga. Menyatu dengan semua yang keluar dari seluruh pori-pori. Bercampur darah di kedua kaki. Perih.

Angin lembut meniup. Membawa pergi molekul demi molekul peluh dan air mata, mengeringkan darahku. Menyejukkan hati dan jiwa. Mengalunkan senandung kerinduan dan cinta. Membuai sukma yang penat berat.

Kupejam mata dan serasa tubuhku mengambang terayun perlahan. Kuhirup aroma bunga di udara. Tak lagi kurasa gelap pekat kabut dan dingin yang menusuk semula, tergantikan terang dan hawa hangat. Bagai bayi diemban bunda, bagi diri dibuai kekasih, aku terlena.

Inikah ia… kebahagiaan itu?

Braak!!! Aku jatuh terhempas di atas batu yang menjulang dari dasar jurang. Semua yang baru saja kurasa tiba-tiba hilang. Angin kembali menjadi dingin. Awan berkumpul menebal, hitam menghadang setiap cahaya yang coba menyentuhku. Setitik air jatuh di ujung hidungku. Lantas di dahiku. Pipi. Tangan. Rambut. Dan makin banyak lagi di sekujur tubuhku, hingga kusadar ini hujan.

Petir menggelegar dan air seperti ditumpahkan dari bejana maha besar. Badai kurasa. Karena angin menderu keras menerpaku yang tersungkur di atas batu. Menelungkup berpegang pada lekuk dan tonjolan kasarnya. Aku takut jika aku berdiri, angin akan menghempasku, atau petir menyambarku. Dingin air hujan seperti ribuan jarum menusuk tubuhku. Aku ingin berpeluk lututku sendiri mencari kehangatan. Tapi kedua tanganku harus berpegang atau aku akan terlempar masuk jurang.

Entah berapa lama aku bertahan. Tapi kemudian mendung menepi seiring hujan berhenti dan angin pergi. Kabut juga lari. Lalu muncul matahari yang seperti wajah smiley melemparkan senyum kepadaku. Menghangatkan lagi tubuh beku. Perasaan nyaman luar biasa setelah apa yang baru saja mendera.

Inikah ia… kebahagiaan itu?

Aku berdiri mendongak merentangkan kedua tanganku. Memejam mata menghayati setiap kehangatan yang merasuki pori-pori. Mengeringkan lagi badanku yang basah kuyup. Dan angin semilir sekali lagi menghembusku.

Kudengar lagi lagu cinta itu. Lembut, merayu. Menyunggingkan senyum di bibir yang lama terkatup butut. Membungakan lagi hati yang lama kering sepi. Menghidupkan lagi jiwa yang lama gersang mati.

Lalu kurasa hangat meningkat. Menjadi panas yang lambat laun semakin menyengat. Aku mulai berkeringat. Kukipas tangan mencoba menyejukkan, tapi aku tahu itu sia-sia. Karena panas tak berhenti merambat. Dan peluhku semakin deras membasahi lagi baju dan tubuhku.

Semakin lama panas bukan lagi hawa. Dia membakar. Laksana api yang melilit aku. Kurasa akan hangus tubuhku ini dalam beberapa waktu. Menggigit bibir sama sekali tidak membantu. Panasnya menyiksa, dan aku meronta, tapi tak berguna. Aku menjerit, berteriak, mengumpat, menyumpah. Tapi tetap tak membawa apa-apa.

Panas tak berhenti membakar. Aku pasrah. Ayo, hanguskan, musnahkan aku! Biar aku akan tahu inilah yang kudapat dari perjalananku melintasi jembatan sebatang meraih batu yang menjulang dari dasar jurang.

Aku sudah bersiap mati. Tapi matahari menjadi ramah lagi. Dan angin meniupkan kesejukan pagi. Membuatku mengira aku telah terbang ke atas awan, bersayap dan berlingkar emas di atas kepala. Maka kubuka mata dan aku masih saja, berdiri di ujung batu yang menjulang dari dasar jurang. Melihat terang namun teduh. Perasaan nyaman luar biasa setelah panas yang tak terkira mencabik tubuhku.

Inikah ia… kebahagiaan itu?

Udara berhenti di kecepatan nol. Temperatur berhenti di dua lima derajat celcius. Intensitas cahaya berhenti di100 candela.

Aku menunggu apa lagi yang akan terjadi. Siksa yang akan berakhir bahagia, untuk bersiklus lagi menjadi siksa dan bahagia dan siksa dan bahagia dan siksa dan bahagia…

Aku mengumpat pada hati dan keyakinanku. “Keparat, kau beri aku bahagia yang bersela derita… Atau derita bersela bahagia?” Read more!

Aku menggali keyakinanku....

Masih dari tempatku berdiri, di tepi jurang kehancuran, gelap berkabut pekat. Dingin menggigit tulang. Sunyi sepi mencekam. Aku bisa saja memutar badan lalu kembali pulang. Tapi hatiku berkata jangan. Dia ingin aku melangkah meniti jembatan sebatang, menuju sebuah batu yang menjulang dari dasar jurang. Katanya di sana ada bahagia.

Aku masih ragu. Karena aku tidak tahu dari apa jembatan itu. Tidak tampak seberti batu, atau kayu. Kayu baru atau rapuh. Tidak seperti beton atau besi. Besi baru atau berkarat. Aku bahkan tidak tahu dia berselimut tanah atau debu, yang jelas itu membuatku tak bisa menduga.

Aku masih ragu. Benarkah ada kebahagiaan itu? Karena di sana tak kulihat apapun selain batu itu, tempat aku nanti akan berdiri di atasnya. Berselimut kabut, berlingkup dingin, berpeluk sepi. Apa? Siapa yang akan membawa kebahagiaan padaku? Aku takut hatiku menipu.

Lalu mulai kulangkahkan kakiku, perlahan. Setapak, dan aku maju. Dua tapak, dan aku mampu. Berkali aku berdesir, singunen setiap kali melirik ke bawah, dasarnya tidak nampak. Aku memilih mendongak, karena dengan begitu aku tak akan menyadari, ada jurang di kanan kiriku.

Ugh!! Apa ini yang menghantam dari kananku? Angin yang begitu kuat membantingku, aku terpelanting. Hatiku habis, jantungku berhenti berdetak. Tapi sesaat kemudian kusadari sebelah tanganku masih berpegang di jembatan sebatang, dan sisa tubuhku terayun menggelantung.
Kupejamkan mata rapat. Menggapaikan sebelah tanganku yang lain. Walau sudah kedua tanganku meraba, aku masih belum bisa mengatakan jembatan itu terbuat dari apa. Kasar, keras, dan menyengat tanganku, dengan suhu yang tak bisa kujelaskan – panas yang amat, atau dingin sangat. Beberapa saat aku terombang-ambing.

Sekuat tenaga kuangkat tubuhku. Kuayunkan kaki hingga bisa mengait jembatan sebatang. Susah payah, tapi akhirnya aku berhasil kembali berada di atas jembatan, menelungkup, mengatur nafas dan hatiku. Aku tidak mau berdiri lagi. Aku masih merasakan hembusan angin itu. Aku tidak mau jatuh lagi.

Aku kembali diliput ragu. Harus kembali atau maju. Karena kini aku berada di tengah perjalananku. Aku kembali dan perjuanganku sia-sia, atau terus dan entah akan mendapatkan apa.

Perlahan aku merangkak maju. Telapak tanganku mulai melepuh, dengkulku tersayat. Aku berpeluh, berdarah. Angin itu masih menghembusku. Terkadang lembut dan hangat menyeka letihku, membuatku melupakan semua kesakitanku. Terkadang keras menerpa, memaksaku berhenti dan erat berpegang.

….

Tangan kananku meraih. Tangan kiriku menggapai. Kaki kananku menapak. Kaki kiriku menjejak.
Aku berdiri di atas batu yang menjulang dari dasar jurang, mencari kebahagiaan yang dijanjikan hatiku. Read more!

Anak kecil itu...

Aku baru pulang kerja dan ada latihan jam lima. Sore ini aku sedang tidak ingin naik bis Damri yang biasa lewat di depan kantorku. Aku memilih naik angkot, sedikit berjalan kaki, berbecek-becek melewati segerombolan pekerja proyek pembangunan sebuah gedung raksasa. Katanya mal. Oh please, dulu jalan tempat kantorku berada ditetapkan sebagai kawasan perkantoran dan sekolahan. Sekarang mal bermunculan…

Angkot yang kutumpangi kosong, hanya ada aku yang baru saja naik dan meletakkan ransel di sebelahku. Aku sudah bersiap-siap untuk bersabar menunggu angkot itu mendapat satu dua penumpang lagi, tapi ternyata supirnya langsung menyalakan mesin dan menjalankan mobilnya.

Tadinya aku tidak terlalu memperhatikan angkot ini ataupun supirnya. Memang tidak ada yang istimewa yang bisa membuat aku mengingatnya. Misalnya ada stiker dengan kata-kata lucu atau saru. Atau mungkin jok yang warnanya ngejreng. Atau supir yang ganteng… ahem!

Tapi ketika melihat anak kecil itu, bocah umur antara dua-tiga tahun, yang duduk di bangku depan… Dia bertelekan tangan di jendela, memandang lepas ke jalanan sambil sesekali menguap. Aku duduk di bangku sisi kanan tepat di belakang supir, dan aku bisa melihat wajah polosnya dari kaca spion kiri.

Aku jadi ingat aku pernah menumpang angkot ini. Waktu itu, ada anak kecil ingusan ini, bersama ibunya. Perempuan itu masih cukup muda, kutebak usianya belum lebih dari 25. kulitnya gelap tapi bersih, badannya langsing cenderung kurus, rambutnya hitam lurus panjang melampaui bahunya. Hidungnya mancung sedikit naik, sempurna. Mulanya kukira dia penumpang biasa seperti aku, tapi setelah beberapa menit aku tahu bahwa mereka adalah anak dan istri si supir. Bocah itu, waktu itu, rewel bukan main. Merengek minta ini itu.

Aku dibuat terpana dengan kata-kata yang keluar dari mulut ibunya, “Diam, atau aku hajar kamu!”.

Anak itu menangis makin keras. Sang ibu lantas menjewer, mencubit, membekap mulutnya dengan gemas. Tidak berhasil. Anak itu tidak mau diam. Dia lantas menggelayut di leher supir yang ternyata adalah ayahnya. Sang ayah pun tidak mengacuhkannya, sibuk melambai-lambai ke luar, memanggil calon penumpang.

Sampai saat aku turun, anak itu masih menangis. Kuserahkan tiga ribu rupiah kepada ayahnya, dan kugenggamkan lima ribu rupiah ke tangan si bocah, “Ssst… diamlah. Nanti ajak ibu beli es krim ya…”

Dia diam waktu aku turun. Entah jadi beli es krim atau tidak.
Dan sore ini, dia sendiri. Sepertinya bosan melihat jalanan. Lalu dia merosot di tempat duduknya, dan mulai merengek. Seperti sebelumnya, ayahnya lebih konsentrasi ke jalanan mencari penumpang. Setelah beberapa saat dicueki, dia diam sendiri. Lalu berdiri bersandar sambil melihat lurus ke depan.

Kucolek pundaknya.

“Hai… kamu ganteng kalo ngga nangis”

Dia menoleh padaku dan tersenyum.

“Siapa namamu?”
“Ian”
“Mana Ibu?”
“Kerja”

Aku keluarkan susu kotak dari tasku, yang sebenarnya kusiapkan untuk kuminum nanti selesai aku latihan.

“Ian mau ini?”
Dia menyambutnya.
“Terima kasih. Tolong bukain sedotannya”, pintanya.

Dan kubantu.Tidak sampai lima menit dia menghabiskannya.

“Pak, habis”, dia lapor ke ayahnya.

“Ya, pinter. Buang”

Dan dilemparkannya ke jalan kotak susu yang sudah kosong itu. Aku hampir berteriak karena dia membuang sampah sembarangan. Tapi untung bisa kutahan. Ian bukan Ibit atau Ar Ir yang selalu ribut mencari tempat sampah kalau mau membuang sesuatu. Mungkin orang tuanya belum mengajarkan itu. Dan aku tidak berhak memprotesnya.

Aku sudah sampai ke tujuanku, hanya ada satu penumpang lain yang naik sesaat sebelum aku turun. Kuberikan tiga ribu kepada pak supir. Dan kulihat Ian yang ternyata tertidur di bangku depan…

“Da Ian…”, bisikku.
Aku tidak tahu kapan ketemu Ian lagi. Bocah kecil yang terpaksa ikut menyusuri jalanan bersama ayahnya. Atau harus bertahan dengan ibunya yang cantik tapi keras sekali masa. Tapi mulai sekarang, aku menyimpan sebuah mainan mobil-mobilan di ranselku, untuk Ian, kalau nanti kami ketemu…

*sebenarnya ada foto close up si ganteng ian, tapi tidak berani pasang, belum minta ijin ke ybs atau ortunya...* Read more!

a cloudy saturday afternoon

for this weeks sundayscribbling's prompt, late

In the middle of a schoolyard, in the edge of the village, a group of boys were playing baseball. The sun was about to fall to the horizon line, but the game was in the climax. The hitter group almost had their players run home. Pitik the last hitter, hit the ball so strong, straight to Bayu's hand. Bayu held the ball, but he suddenly frozen. The supporter out of the area screamed and shouted, told him to do something with the ball.

“Yu! Over here! Throw the ball to me!!”, shouted Wawan who was standing next to the last base.

But Bayu just stood there still.

His friends screamed at him again. The other group players have one by one touched all the bases.

One…

Two…

Three…

Four runners run across the home line. Only Pitik left to touch the last base.

“Bayu! Stop daydreaming! The ball the ball the ball…!!!” his friends started to get mad.

Bayu haw. He threw the ball to Wawan who caught it right and ready to stop Pitik.

Bayu didn't care about the ball anymore, he didn't care about his friends, he didn't care about the game. He run like a thunder, left the field straight to his house. Left Wawan completely dazed. Left Pitik who was still running to the last base and did a home run.

Pitik and his group cheered and jumped for their winning in the last inning. The ball was still in Wawan's hand, fixed in enchantment of their defeat He slammed the ball to the ground, no mercy. “Stupid Bayu!. Crazy boy! What is wrong with him?”

***

Bayu kept running like a ghost was chasing behind him. He turned twice, run over a bridge, scattered a bunch of chicken, let Mbah Tumi shouted, “Yu! why are you running like that…?”

Dad's come, I can't be late. Dad's come, I can't be late. Dad's come, I can't be late.

Those words echoed in his head. His step got slower as he got into the street in front of his house, slower as he entered his house gate, and stopped few feet before the door.

He stood still, stared in. It was so quite.

Slowly he stepped into the wide quite living room. He continued walking entered the living room with the same situation he caught. Doubtfully he opened the west room, it hasn't been open for a long time.

Dark. Musty. And there was nobody. No sound, only his ruffle breath after running along the way home.

Bayu turned around and walked to the kitchen. Grandma was fixing the wood and blowing the fire in the stove.

“Mbah…”, he called his granny gently. Still she was a little bit shocked.
“Hey, Yu… I didn't hear you coming. What is wrong with you?"

Bayu walked approaching Grandma in sat next to her.

“Where's Dad?”

Grandma put the wood down, wiped his hands on her ashy skirt, and stroke her beloved grandson's head tenderly.

“Your Dad is still in Lombok, Yu…”
“But I felt he was coming. I felt he was at home, and brought me lot of presents…”

Grandma grabbed Bayu into her arms.

“No, Yu. He's not coming yet”

Bayu cuddled up. Tears started to fall over his face.

“When will he be home, Mbah?”
“In three months, dear. Be patient okay..”
“I miss Dad, Mbah..”
“I know, darling. But your Dad has to work and gain money there. Be patient, in three months he will come and bring you a lot of presents…”

Bayu cried. His shoulders shook.

“Do you want to read your dad's letters again?”

Bayu shook his head, then got up and waked to his room.

He stared at a picture that's always been there on his desk. Dad, Mom, him.

Right after his parents got married, they went to find a job in Lombok. Bayu was born there and stayed with them for couple of years. But since he was five, his Dad sent him here to this village to accompany his lonely Grandma. Dad and Mom visited him twice a year.

These past two years, only Dad comes visit him every six months, Mother has died caused by breast cancer. These past two years, his Dad is the only one he waits for.

Bayu tried to remember again, and yes Dad has come three months ago. So Grandma was right, he has to wait for another three months.

He heard the sound of holy Al-Qur’an from the mosque behind the house as the dawn was falling. Maghrib is coming. Bayu put the picture back to the table, and went out to take a bath. He would go to the mosque to do sholat maghrib. After that he would pray to Allah, for Dad's health, so he could come and see him in three months...

Read more!

alarm 07.30 (reversed point of view)

waktunya…
pintu kamarku terbuka, lalu aku akan terangkat ke atas. kubuat satu putaran lalu ketika aku berhenti, aku berjinjit di ujung sepatuku. memegang ujung tutu dengan kedua tanganku, dan kuucapkan, “selamat pagi sayang….”
dia akan memandangku dengan tersenyum. seolah memang sedari tadi menunggu kemunculanku. aku berputar lagi, dan tatakan kakiku akan turun perlahan. lalu pintu kamarku menutup lagi, untuk terbuka lagi esok hari.

aku bukan weker. aku hanya alarm. alarm yang diset untuk menyapanya setiap pagi sebelum memulai hari. aku adalah balerina kecil dengan tutu dan sepatu pita berwarna hijau emerald. apa yang kusebut kamar, adalah sebuah ruang berbentuk setengah bola, yang berwarna hijau metalik. serasi dengan kostumku.
jujur, aku sendiri menanti pagi untuk muncul dan berbunyi. aku bahagia setiap kali melihat matanya melihatku. aku yakin dia juga menantiku.
aku makin yakin tentang itu, ketika suatu hari entah kenapa, pintu kamarku tak mau terbuka tepat pada waktunya. aku juga tidak bisa berbuat apa-apa. meskipun kutarik sekuat tenaga, pintu itu tetap rapat saja. baru sekitar pukul 10, ketika aku sudah kelelahan mencoba, tiba-tiba dia terbuka. segera saja aku keluar dan menyapanya, “selamat siang, sayang….”. tentu saja, karena memang sudah siang. dia sempat berkata, “selamat siang, kamu terlambat…,”, dan aku melihat kelegaan ketika dia melihat kemunculanku. aku juga lega jadinya. aku berputar, dan tenggelam lagi ke dalam kamar berbentuk setengah bolaku.

***
untuk beberapa waktu aku menjalankan tugasku seperti biasa. menari dan menyapanya setiap jam 07.30. tapi lama-kelamaan aku merasa, dia tidak lagi menantikanku. kadang dia hanya memandangku sekilas sambil tersenyum. kadang memandang saja tanpa tersenyum. kadang bahkan tidak memandangku sama sekali, sibuk dengan kertas-kertas di hadapannya.

aku sedih….
lalu aku merasa, barangkali dia merasa bosan dengan kehadiranku di pagi hari. lalu aku mencoba muncul lagi di saat-saat lain. untunglah pintu kamarku tidak rusak lagi. jadi setelah pagi hari aku menyapa seperti biasa, aku kadang menyapanya lagi di siang hari.
tapi kurasa siang hari bukan waktu yang tepat. dia justru semakin sibuk dengan kertas-kertasnya. dan dia memandangku seolah merasa terganggu. lalu kucoba menggantinya dengan malam hari, ketika aku yakin pekerjaannya telah selesai. memang, tapi dia sedang tidur, dan dia terbangun dalam keadaan kaget — dan kurasa dia marah.

aku sedih….
sore itu aku muncul lagi. “selamat sore sayang….”. dia hanya memandangku dengan mata lelah — dan kesal. seolah ingin berkata, ‘kau menggangguku’. tapi dia diam saja. maka aku ucapkan lagi, “selamat sore, sayang….”. dia menjawab, “selamat sore…,”.
aku tidak bisa bilang aku sudah lega. dia menjawab sapaku dengan terpaksa. tapi cukuplah kurasa, dia sudah menjawabku. jadi aku masuk lagi mengurung diriku.

pagi ini aku muncul tepat jam 07.30. dia sudah mulai sibuk membolak balik tumpukan kertasnya. “selamat pagi, sayang….”. dia tidak mendengarku. dia sama sekali tidak melihat ke arahku. aku mengulang bunyiku. dia masih tepekur sendiri. kuulang lagi, hingga akhirnya dia menjawab, “selamat pagi…,” tapi dia tidak melihat ke arahku. aku berbunyi lagi. dia memandang ke arahku dengan ekspresi kesal, dan menjawab lagi “selamat pagi.”
bukan… bukan… aku tidak ingin kau melihat dan menjawabku seperti itu. aku rindu kau rindui. aku menunggu kau tunggu aku. aku mengharap melihatmu mengharap kehadiranku.
“selamat pagi sayang….” kuucap lagi selembut mungkin. “selamat pagi!’
ya ampun, dia membentakku. aku begitu terkejut dan tiba-tiba aku tidak bisa mengontrol bunyiku. aku terus-terus mengucap “selamat pagi, sayang….” sambil berharap dia melembut dan tersenyum lagi padaku.

tapi tidak. dia malah tampak semakin kesal dan marah. aku tidak menyangka dia akan meraih kamarku dan membanting aku ke lantai.
kamarku pecah terbelah ke segala arah. leherku patah. habis sudah.
tapi aku masih punya sedikit sisa arus sebelum terputus aku dari battereku, dan sekuat tenaga, secepatnya sebelum dia hilang, kuucapkan, “selamat tinggal, sayang….”

karena aku tahu setelah ini aku tidak akan bisa melihatnya lagi….

Read more!

alarm 07.30

sengaja kupasang jam segitu, karena aku bukan butuh alarm untuk membangunkan aku. aku memasangnya untuk sekedar menyapaku setiap pagi, ketika aku hendak memulai hari. bukan jam weker. hanya alarm. alarm saja. yang memang kupesan untuk berbunyi setiap jam 07.30 pagi.
bentuknya setengah bola, berwarna hijau metalik. saat sedang tidak berbunyi, ya setengah bola itulah bentuknya. tapi ketika jam tanganku menunjukkan pukul 07.30, bagian tengahnya akan bergeser sedikit, dan membuka tutupnya. lalu dari dalamnya akan muncul ke atas sebuah boneka balerina kecil, yang akan membuat satu putaran cepat, lalu berkata, “selamat pagi sayang….”
dan aku akan menjawabnya, “selamat pagi juga…, sayang”, lalu memulai hariku dengan senyum.

***
pernah suatu hari, alarmku itu tidak berbunyi di jam 07.30. aku sempat meneliti apa yang salah, tapi aku tidak menemukannya. pagi itu jadi terasa ada yang kurang, tapi aku tetap berusaha menjalani hariku seperti biasa. lalu sekitar jam 10, tiba-tiba dia menyapa, “selamat siang, sayang”.
“selamat siang. kau terlambat”
tentu saja dia tidak menjawab, hanya berputar, lalu masuk lagi, dan menutup.

tapi ada yang aneh akhir-akhir ini. setelah beberapa waktu dia berbunyi normal, tiba-tiba dia berbunyi semaunya sendiri. meskipun pagi hari tepat jam 07.30 dia sudah menyapaku, siang hari dia akan menyapa lagi. kadang bahkan tengah malam ketika aku sedang lelap.
sore itu aku sedang mengerjakan tugasku yang diburu waktu. aku sedang butuh konsentrasi penuh dan tidak ingin diganggu. tiba-tiba…
“selamat sore sayang….”
aku memandanginya. seperti biasa dia berdiri di ujung jarinya yang bersepatu pita, dan memegangi ujung tutu-nya dengan kedua tangannya. aku menunggu dia masuk dan tutupnya merapat. tapi dia masih di sana, malah berbunyi lagi, “selamat sore, sayang….”
“selamat sore…,”, jawabku, dan barulah dia masuk.
begitulah selanjutnya. dia berbunyi kapan saja dia mau, dan tidak mau masuk sebelum aku menjawabnya. dia akan terus mengulang sapanya, sampai aku berkata yang sama kepadanya.

lama-lama aku jadi merasa terganggu karenanya. alarm itu benar-benar makin tidak tau waktu. suara sapanya yang halus tapi riang, tiba-tiba berubah terdengar seperti jeritan yang memekakkan telinga. kadang seperti suara orang mengomel berkepanjangan. bahkan meskipun aku sudah menjawab sapanya.

pagi ini aku benar-benar tak tahan lagi. dia terus terusan mengucap “selamat pagi sayang….”. walaupun sudah kujawab, dia masih mengatakannya lagi dan lagi. dan kujawab lagi, mulai nada rendah hingga meninggi, tapi dia tetap tidak mau berhenti.

aku tidak bisa menahan diri. kuraih alarmku dan kubanting ke lantai. hancur berkeping. kepala boneka balerina itu patah. aku masih sempat mendengar dia bersuara untuk terakhir kalinya…

“selamat tinggal, sayang….”

Read more!

"Aku bisa", jawabku.

Kulirik jam tanganku, pukul 15.57.

“Kamu di mana sekarang?”, tanya dia lagi.

“Masih di kantor”

“Kelasnya jam lima lho, keburu?”

“Insya Allah”

“Ok, jam lima ya. Tolong, soalnya aku bener-bener ngga bisa berangkat”

“Iya, aku berangkat sekarang juga”

Kumatikan komputer dan berbenah untuk pulang. Kalau aku cepat mungkin aku masih bisa naik bis.

“Lho, Di, mau ke mana?”, boss-ku yang melihat aku siap-siap pulang seperti tidak rela.

“Pulang, Pak”

“Itu bahan buat hari Kamis lho, jangan sampai ngga siap”

“Ini masih hari Selasa, Pak, santai saja. Saya ada perlu penting nih. Besok saya akan selesaikan, kalau perlu sampai lembur”

Punya bawahan ndableg sepertiku harus sabar, dan percaya. Untung atasanku sedang lega hatinya, dan dia cuma bisa bilang, “Terserah…”

***

Aku belum membawa kostum dan sepatu. Kalau naik bis, mampir ke kos… biar naik ojek juga sepertinya tidak akan keburu. Akhirnya kulambaikan tangan pada taksi pertama yang lewat di depanku.

“Ke atas, Pak. Ngebut”

Dan si supir benar-benar ngebut.

***

Jam lima kurang lima menit aku sampai di depan sanggar, argometer menunjukkan angka 47.800. Kuulurkan selembar lima puluh ribuan, “Ambil aja kembaliannya, Pak. Makasih”. Lalu setengah berlari aku menuju pintu sanggar yang setengah terbuka.

Sanggar sudah penuh. Beberapa member bahkan sudah berdiri mencari tempat. Aku bergegas menuju pojok ruangan tempat CD playernya. Tapi seseorang sedang jongkok di sana menyiapkan musik, dan sudah memakai baju senam. Itu… Tammy.

“Hai, Tam!”

Yang kusapa mendongak dan tersenyum, “Hai, Di. Oh, kamu datang. Monik bilang kamu tidak bisa, jadi dia memintaku datang. Kamu mau mengajar?”

Aku menggeleng, “Mereka tahunya kamu yang datang mengajar, udah kamu aja”, kuletakkan ransel, dan mulai kubuka jaket dan jeansku.

Aku membaca raut muka merasa tidak enak di wajah Tammy. Beberapa member berbisik-bisik sambil melihat ke arah aku dan Tammy, entah apa yang mereka bicarakan.

“Atau kita paroan yuk, nanti aku berhenti di low, kamu masuk ke high dan pembentukan”

“Ngga usah…. Aku sih kalau mau mengajar nyiapin bahannya satu paket. Kamu pasti juga. Kalau dadakan bawa separo-separo mana bisa sinkron?”, dan bagaimana bayarannya, separo-separo juga?– tambahku dalam hati.

Tammy mengangkat bahu dan menyalakan musiknya, “Yooo….k!!” teriaknya memanggil semua yang ada di ruangan untuk bersiap.

“Yoo…k!!”, teriakku menyahut sambil bertepuk tangan. Menyahut? Pura-pura. Karena sebenarnya aku ingin berteriak, “Kurang ajar kau Monik!”

Dadaku sakit rasanya. Marah, kesal, kecewa. Sebegitunya Monik tidak percaya padaku. Aku sudah bilang aku bisa. Dan aku jungkir balik supaya tidak terlambat. Dan aku naik taksi bayar lima puluh ribu, sementara dia cuma akan memberikan padaku fee-nya yang dua puluh lima ribu. Aku ngga peduli rugi buat menolongnya. Tapi tega banget dia mendatangkan Tammy, tanpa memberitahuku pula…

Aku bergerak mengikuti Tammy sambil menggigit bibirku dan berusaha tersenyum. Terserah, sebut saja aku cengeng, tapi aku memang ingin menangis. Aku sakit hati.

Sepuluh menit kemudian pintu sanggar terbuka pelan, Monik masuk dan berjalan menyusur tembok belakang, meletakkan tas dan melepas jaket, lalu mendekati aku.

“Hai Di, kamu datang jam berapa?”

“Jam lima kurang lima menit, seperti yang kujanjikan”, jawabku sambil terus bergerak, tak peduli Monik yang beberapa kali harus menghindar supaya tidak terkena ayunan tanganku.

“Sorry…”, katanya, “aku kira kamu tidak akan bisa sampai tepat waktu, soalnya pengalamanku sendiri kalau naik bis dari sana tidak akan cukup waktu. Jadi kupikir kalau….”

“UUUUH!!!” aku tidak mendengarkan Monik dan berteriak seolah membakar semangat isi kelas. Monik masih ingin berkata sesuatu, tapi aku tidak peduli. Aku terus melihat ke arah Tammy dan bergerak dengan tenaga yang mungkin bisa merubuhkan Monik.

Monik menyingkir, mengambil tempat di pojok belakang. Aku sempat melirik wajahnya yang gelisah. Peduli setan, aku yang harusnya bermuka tidak enak. Tapi aku terus berusaha tersenyum. Benar-benar tidak lucu bergerak sambil merengut. Aku terus menggigit bibirku, atau berteriak seperti orang gila. Kalau tidak, aku akan benar-benar menangis.

Break sebelum pendinginan Monik mendekatiku lagi, “Di, aku…”

“Sudahlah Mon, minggir. Aku mau senam, jangan ngeribetin”, sergahku. Dan dia mengambil air minum lalu kembali ke belakang.

Begitu selesai, aku langsung mengenakan jeansku dan menyambar ranselku. Aku tidak peduli baju dan badanku yang masih basah oleh keringat. “Tam, makasih ya. Aku pulang dulu. Sudah mau maghrib ini”

“Kamu naik apa, Di? Tunggu sebentar deh, aku antar”

“Alah, ngga usah… di depan banyak ojek. Yuk ya, dah”, aku melambaikan tangan sambil berjalan menjinjing jaketku, “duluan ya…!!” teriakku, yang dibalas lambaian tangan beberapa member yang sudah mengenalku.

Sambil berjalan keluar aku mengenakan jaketku. Monik agak berlari mendekatiku.

“Di, jangan marah ya. Sorry, aku bener-bener minta maaf. Karena Tammy sedang tidak ada kelas, aku pikir lebih baik dia yang gantiin aku. Kosnya cuma lima belas menit dari sini, sedang kamu harus…”

“Aku naik taksi. Dan kamu bisa kira-kira berapa ongkosnya. Mon, biar aku kasih tahu kamu satu hal. Fee sama sekali bukan tujuanku mengajar. Aku sudah cukup dapat uang dari pekerjaanku. Aku bersedia gantiin kamu karena aku sedang bisa bantu kamu, dan siapa tahu suatu saat aku yang butuh bantuan kamu. Tapi kamu ngga percaya banget sama aku. Tega kamu datengin Tammy, tanpa ngasih tahu aku pula”

“Aku…”

“Aku pulang dulu..”, dan kutinggalkan Monik yang tidak mungkin akan menyusulku keluar sanggar dengan hotpants dan sport bra.

Aku pulang berjalan, setengah berlari, dan membiarkan sedikit air mataku mengalir. Dan untuk sementara, kurasa, aku tidak akan menemui Monik. Aku bisa meledak.

Read more!

The stranger I've known

for this week's prompt in suncayscribblings, stranger
and I'm not worried about my bad English :D

***

The second our eyes met, time stopped. And I saw thousands fireworks sparkling, becoming an amazing background to a wonderful sight, as he walked to my direction in a slow motion. “Hi, I am Yusril’, he raised his hand to me.

“Kia”, I gave my hand to welcome his.

In my hart, I was still grumbling to the man who has sent me to this time and place. A Training for Health Database Management.

“But Sir, this is about health” I said.

“Yes, it is about working on health database. But what is required here is ability in using computer. That’s all.”, Mr. Heru tried to convince me.

“I don’t understand computer that much. All I can do is operating some programs”

“Oh that’s fine. We don’t need programmers. The program’s been built. This training is for trainer to work on the programs, which is about health data base management”

Mr. Heru isn’t my direct boss. He is the chief from the next room department, who has asked permission from my boss, to let me join this training, on his advice. Unfortunately, (or fortunately?) my boss said ‘yes’. “I like to see my kids improve themselves,” he said. O yeah, of course.

“Ratna said she wanted to go,” I still tried to find a reason for me not to go. Five days. If only the training would be held in one or two days, I’ll be glad to. But I never left my daughter Tiara, that long.

“O , I knew it. If I asked her, I’m sure she’ll say yes right then. But I prefer you to go. This training is a national level. We bring our institution’s name. There’s no way I will send Ratna”

“What is wrong with Ratna anyway?”

Ah, no need to answer, I already knew. She would be too busy hunting for men than concentrating on the training.

Now look at what’s happening here. This is a training for health database management. But aren’t we supposed to understand the components of the data? The first sessions was to generalize the perceptions of those. Mother’s mortality, baby’s mortality, K1, K4, preg-mom…

The training participants are doctors, nurses, midwives, masters in society health… I’m the only engineer. Along the session, I kept in silence.

“Kia, say something. Come on, what are you thinking?” the moderator of my discussion group tried to dig something from me.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m trying to figure out some thing. These problems are much too complicated for me. My knowledge about this is just too shallow. This shallow”, I made a space of an inch with my thumb and my point finger, “What is K1? I don’t know what K1, K4 are. What I know is K-225. That’s a concrete mix with the pressure capacity of 225 kilograms per square centimeters”.

No body could hold them selves not to laugh. And they made a nickname for me: K1 engineer.

***

Day two lunch. Yusril was having the dessert for this meal time.

“Why are you using your left hand to eat?” I asked.

The answer sounded like an echo to words in my head.

“I think I am basically left handed. But old people were right hand oriented. The said left hand wasn’t right. So it’s kind of something I was pushed to. I finally write with my right hand, so badly. But I play badminton with my left hand. I do hard things such is hammering, sawing, with left hand too”

“I don’t mind to do thing with left hand, but I think you still should eat using your right hand”

“When there are spoon and fork, I’d hold the spoon with my right hand. But if there only a spoon, it will end up like this”, he showed me a little spoon he was holding.

You don’t have to explain, I already knew.

***

Third day, after visiting the people in the village, which was so tiring because we needed to walk to reach the house of the pregmoms (finally I understood the meaning: pregnant mom), we had to go right back to our class to work on the data we took. So we turned on our notebooks.

I peaked a little to Yusril’s wallpaper. A family photo. Him, a beautiful lady carrying a baby like 10 months old, and a boy of 7 years old who was so proudly showing his plane toy.

“Your family?”

Yusril nodded. I felt strange. I don’t know about this. I waited for a moment, may be some visions of Yusril family will come. But it didn’t happen.

***

Dinner.

I knew he would get some shrimp. ”my favorite”, He showed me the biggest one.

“I know”

“How do you know?”

Ya, how do I know? I just knew it. I knew you like shrimp. And I knew you don’t like football. I knew your shoulder was once wounded when you were playing badminton, that made you had to stop doing that sport. But I don’t know how I knew it all. I knew it, that’s all. I knew everything about you, except your name, which I knew because you mentioned it in our first met.

***

It was almost midnight. I was still watching television in my hotel room. National programs. This hotel doesn’t have Cable TV, I can not watch CNN, AXN, HBO, Cartoon Network…

I grabbed the remote controller and turned it off. I laid down and tried to get some sleep. I was so tired but could not close my eyes. I kept thinking about Yusril. No, its not Yusril I was thinking of. But me, how suddenly I knew everything about him. I really didn’t understand. I was so sure I never met him before.

My cell phone rang. Sindhu.

“Hi honey, still awake?”

“I’m trying to sleep. What about you?”

“Soon. I’m still watching a film. How was the day? Tired?”

“Quite. We did a field trip today”

“Take a rest. I don’t want you to be sick”

“OK”

“Good night Kia, Love you”

“Good night, Sindhu, love you too”

I usually called Sindhu. I didn’t know why I forgot to. The day was so crowded. And my head was full of my can-not –understood thought about Yusril…

***

Last day. A tour. Beach. Nothing I like more than beaches. I love beaches. Especially the clean ones. So I could walk barefoot along the sandy shore. And felt the waves came over and splashed on me. And the cool wind blew my hair. Some times it was too strong I had to struggle to stay standing.

But this time we sat. Afar from the water, under the palm tree. Yusril was sitting beside me, holding a cola can he bought from an old lady who didn’t stop following us

“Kia, I wanted to asked you some questions. But I apologize if it made you feel uncomfortable”

“What is it?”

“Have we ever met?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

He took a breath, and went on.

“Where did you spend your childhood?”

“Malang, you?”

“Bandung”, of course, the answer was just another echo in my head.

“So we’re not childhood friends”

“No”

“But why do I feel I’ve known you?”

I looked at him. I looked into his eyes and found confusions as I was feeling.

“Oh really? Why are you feeling that way?”

“Suddenly I know everything about you. I know what you like and what you don’t. I know your habits. I know everything. This kind of… bothering”

I could not say a word.

“Kia, forgive me, but can I see your back?”

“Yus, you know it’s indecent”

“Ya, ya, I know. I’m sorry. Just tell me then. Do you have a scar, there, cut with a knive by your sister when you both were playing cooking?”

Oh my God. What’s happening to us? I drooped. I felt like I’ve known this guy all my life. A stranger I met few days ago.

“Kia. Answer me”

“Do I have to? I believe you already knew it, though I don’t know how”

“Are you experiencing this strange feeling too?”

“Ya”

For a while we didn’t say a thing. Drown in our own thought. Trapped and mixed up in confusions

“Kia”

“Ya?”

“I wanted to tell you this, but I was afraid I might upset you”

“Just say it. I think whatever you wanted to say, is already stick in my head”

“I don’t know why I feel I’ve known you, to the details. And this is so confusing. I mean, we really never met before, did we?”

“I don’t thing you know me to all details”

“What do you mean?”

“I know your knowledge about me stop at a point of time. You don’t know anything about my husband, my daughter, my marriage. You know nothing about my life after I got married”

“Is that what you…” he didn’t continue his sentence, he didn’t need to.

“What’s happening, Yus?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. What confused me most, and made me so not comfortable at the same time, is, the feeling that, I don’t know when, some time in our past, you are… my wife”

I stared at him. I never thought he would be able to say that.

“I only got married once. With Sindhu, my present husband”

“I know. I also got married once, with Dewi, my present wife. I just don’t understand. I… I….”

Suddenly my tears fell down my face. I didn’t know what tears were those. A huge happiness filled my heart. A happiness cause I felt like I’ve found some one I’ve been waiting for, for hundred years. Hundred years…. Oh I’m 27 and I felt a longing paid off after hundred years! But at the same time I felt pain. This guy was surely nobody. He was just a guy who came to me few days ago, raised his hand and said his name.

I laid my head on his chest. Closed my eyes. But I didn’t sleep. I could feel him kissing my hair. May be he thought I was sleeping. Or he knew I wasn’t so he did that? I didn’t care. I only wanted to stay in that moment, a moment I didn’t know if I will ever have a chance to find again or not.

I’ll go home and back to Sindhu tomorrow, and may be I’ll just forget all this weirdness. Or I'll keep thousands questions stay in my head.

Read more!