Animal Sacrifice For Mother

4. Small Profits

“Inaq crying. And Inaq says it's okay?”

Brother Arif said firmly. He put his favorite guitar against the wall. Then sit next to Inaq.

This is how Arif. He inherited the character and character of Amaq. His decisiveness, charisma, wisdom, struggle, almost everything. But not in matters of faith and devotion. It was with Rahman. Even so, brother Arif has always been able to be a reinforcement for his small family.

“Whatever it is, Inaq must not hide something from Arif. Arif is Inaq's son, Arif has the right to know.”

Wait a minute, where's Rahman? Ah, don't ask about Rahman's whereabouts. The answer is definitely in the student dormitory. Once a month just come home. It was also Inaq who asked, in order to save more. Going home also costs money.

“Im sorry Inaq. Inaq cannot give what other parents give to his children. Admit it, you decided not to continue your education because of Inaq. You see that this old woman can no longer afford your education.”

Inaq stopped his words. Sighs. Trying to neutralize his voice.

“Inaq capable! Inaq can, my son.” He continued, and soon both palms covered his old face with elbows resting on that pair of saggy thighs. Her tears were no longer broken.

For a moment. Brother Arif grabbed Inaq's fragile body. He closed his teeth. Sighs. Verily Brother Arif knew Inaq was capable, Inaq was able. Didn't Amaq ever teach him not to give up easily?

Because he did not want Inaq to dissolve in sadness, especially to cry just because he compared himself to other parents. Arif proved that the wisdom of Amaq had indeed flowed in his blood. He took off his arms, and while shrugging Inaq, Arif tried to convince him that all Inaq's words about him were not true.

Now, two pairs of eyes, mother and son, look at each other. Seconds. Two seconds. Brother Arif's gaze was too deep that he was dragged towards the deepest point of the ocean of memories, seventeen years ago.

The weather that afternoon looked friendly. A heron flies low overhead. Flapping his little wings seemed to accompany the twilight to go home. Not to mention, the vast expanse of rice fields stretched as far as the eye could see. The rice began to turn yellow, waiting for the day to be harvested. Every now and then farmers are heard throwing jokes at each other as tired bidders after a long day of work. The clattering of their footsteps drove the fish colonies into the bottom of the pond. Really, the countryside nature paintings are amazingly beautiful.

“One, two, three, jump!”

An old farmer seemed so eager to help Arif fly, hovering over the swift flow of a small stream that served as a source of water for the rice fields of the villagers. For him, this was the first flight.

The day of maghrib. Half the way has passed. The chants of the holy verses of the Quran began to sound earthy from the loudspeakers of the mosque and surau-surau. But nearing the end of the journey home, they suddenly stopped.

Arif saw something. His small steps slowly advanced. He turned his head, hinting silently by sticking his index finger in his mouth. Steppes. Two steps. Stop over.

Is correct. The old farmer was his Amaq. From the vast expanse of rice fields in the village. A plot of land officially belongs to Amaq since Mr. Karim moved out of the island with his son and wife. A piece of land that was then used as a fish pond. The news circulated that the land was given to Amaq as a reply as well as a thank you because Amaq once saved a child only wayang pak Karim from death. Although small, the results are enough to meet the needs of family life.

“Do not,.”

Be late. The speed of Arif's brother's hand surpassed the speed of Amaq's sound. The action of damaging the small cobwebs went back smoothly.

“Destroyed.” Amaq.

This isn't the first time. Yesterday, Brother Arif also did the same thing as what was done today. Destroying a small spider's nest in the same place.

At home, after the Maghrib prayer. Inaq immediately rolled out the mat, Rahman took Iqra, Amaq and brother Arif just sat down. Learning activities are a must for them while waiting for the prayer time to arrive.

“Why are you daydreaming, son?”

Amaq patted Arif's lower back, which looked like he was holding a big question in his mind. He was surprised, even though it had been damaged twice, but tomorrow the cobwebs must be there again.

“Begini, as often as you damage the little spider's nest, it will definitely knit back the nest. You're broken again, knitted again. You know what that means? That is, when you grow up, problems will come to you even if you don't want them. But you have to remember, that little spider taught you one thing. Whatever your problem may be, you must not despair. You have to get up and keep fighting unyielding. You understand?”

Brother Arif shakes. Don't know what it means. Then nod. Understood. Inaq smile. Rahman. I don't understand Amaq's explanation. The Quran reading lesson continues.

***

“Because Inaq, you chose to do all this. Not because of your own desire. Yes, right?”

Inaq looked down at Arif's face and demanded a confession from him. Brother Arif sighed. His shoulders are moving up and down. No, brother Arif is not crying. He rarely cries. The last time he was seen crying was fourteen years ago. The rest never. He was conscious, but it was not yet time.

***