Brutal Family

Part 14 A Developer

Grandma's a developer of old songs. He said he was gentle and gentle. His voice is melodious, once a companion of a famous puppeteer playing wayang golek. Grandma spent her entire life devoted to art.

There is an art studio managed by the Grandma family. Hereditary conserved remains. I once watched Grandma teach dance to the village kids. Now Aunt Rinanti is teaching there.

When I heard Grandma humming. I felt like I was in the middle of a vast expanse of rice fields. Following the passage of the harp brings the deepest dream when the wind blows slowly creating a roll of green sea waves of rice. On the knock to the various lives in each word flowed from between his lips.

That's the song Grandma used to sing before I went to bed. Grandma says the song tells of a woman left behind by her husband at war. Describes the hope of the return of loved ones. Representing Grandma's life story.

The song reminds Grandma of Grandpa. On the wall of the living room was a portrait of Grandfather raising a weapon. Like Papa, they are equally dashing. It's appropriate that Papa is a bit stiff and firm, probably due to heredity as well. But usually they are the type of romantic creatures, evidently, Grandma never forgets Grandpa. Although it has been decades of death. Every time, always remember Grandpa. As another word from Grandpa remained alive in the heart.

Grandfather killed against army defector country post independence Indonesia. Papa was still in the womb at the time. During his life, Papa had not seen his father directly.

Towards a long night Grandma told a lot about the beginning of her meeting with Grandpa. About a feeling beyond the word love is affection. They were put together at a very young age. In the village, people have no importance on education other than farming. Not even knowing what love is, they sure do not need love in starting a relationship. Slowly will awaken them about each other, tying hearts with affection.

Then I asked, "Why are Mom and Dad no longer together? Don't they love each other?"

The skin at the end of Grandma's eyes wrinkled when she smiled. Grandma stopped her knitting and stroked my hair slowly. "Mama and Papa Bungah have spent a lot of time thinking about things. They love Bunga very much. In order not to injure the dude, they took this decision."

I don't get it. Maybe wait another ten years, I'll understand what adults mean. Just yesterday I had my ninth birthday, I'm still a category kid. My cousin said when I heard Papa and Mama yelling at each other in the middle of the night, little kids better just shut up let the adults finish.

I would cover my body with a blanket hoping that their quarrels would not be heard, usually I slept by myself. Until one morning, Papa woke me up not normally. Papa put my clothes in the bag. Sudden holidays on school days. I thought Mama would follow our vacation at Grandma's house, weeks waiting, Mama never coming. I could only watch television every afternoon, watching one of my favorite newsreaders; Mama.

"Papa's taking us to Canada. Grandma ready? Papa said, there is more snow. I can't wait to play in the snow. We'll make a snow doll later, Grandma?"

"Grandmother is not in love," answered Grandma continued to stroke my hair, this activity quickly made me sleepy.

"Why?"

"If Grandma's gone, who's Grandpa here with?"

Oh yeah, there's Grandpa. I nodded in doubt, too sleepy to realize that the mafi would never come back.

Grandma's singing was moving me to dreamland. On the verge of realizing it, I sneered I saw someone hugging Grandma from behind. His face was blurry, predominately dark. Only his clothes I've ever seen somewhere surrounded by black smoke. Was he the same person the night before? When Grandma was pounding before I went to bed? Grandma's opponent in her room. But I never found his form.

"Who are you talking to?"

At a glance Grandma smiled, her wrinkled hands shrewdly tugging at the knitted thread. "Grandfather."

It was only years later that I regretted my sight that night. I should have told Papa to take Grandma to Canada. It's all too late.

"Too late."

"Official, speak for yourself." Goddess grunts. I blinked, around me people in ash ran after the ball. They cheered successfully put the ball into the artificial goal. We were in a multi-purpose room and wearing sports clothes. "Well change clothes together, moal?" (Come on, change clothes together, no?)

"Dude, drop my stuff first. I'm going to buy some pads, I'm going to be here again."

"okay."

Dewi went to the cooperative, not far from here. While I continued to fold the sports clothes. Two people enter the bathroom. They were talking something in Sundanese. Amused enough, though not understanding what they are talking about. Until in the bathroom again deserted, stayed myself, the Goddess never returned. I rubbed my arms, it was cold.

In the middle of a quiet room, water droplets hit the wastapel creating an echo. My sense of hearing is many times more sensitive. I started to muffle the tone. Every now and then glance at the wide open door, looking at every shadow of the person passing through this bathroom. Not even a goddess.

Just a reflection of myself in the big mirror became a friend. So I decided to give the Goddess five more minutes. If she doesn't come too, I'll go back to class first bringing the Goddess's belongings with me.

The clock on my wrist shows the changing of the lesson. Before I could count down, the sound of falling objects shocked me. I automatically walked to the bathroom.

Doubt I pushed the blue painted door plan full of ignorant scribbles. The long creak sounded linu. Nothing was found in there. Moreover, the former objects fell, the ceiling was no hole.

But one that attracts attention. The skewer of konde lying on the floor was very similar to the skewer of konde in the forbidden room. I've seen it once, and remember it always.

Unknowingly, I was already in the room crouching down to pick up the shimmering silver-colored code skewers. My outstretched hand came to a halt in the air, finding a pair of feet full of earth. The smell of jasmine flowers makes me feel bad. I forced him to examine from the tip of his foot, the dark brown batik cloth .. ground stains, red kebaya to the full extent I looked up directly at his face pale death. My eyes widened. That's my face!

"Maafan ..."

Dark instantly. It feels like the oxygen supply is gone without remaining.

When he opened his eyes again, he cried beside me. My hand was shaking in fear.

"Pa, where's Unga?"

"At UKS. You fell in the bathroom. Luckily Hegar found you. Bungah scares Papa, sleeps a long time. Don't do this again, son."

I muttered an apology. My mind was spinning, in the bathroom I clearly saw a woman. He's been showing up lately.

The flash of the red woman was more painful head, seemed to have hit something. There's a lump on my forehead.

Behind this pain I want to laugh. There's someone looking. He peeked at the door. That's Jaya.

　

　

- Damaisland-