Dad, I Want to Go Home

1. Little Rachel's Story

Nine-year-old Rachel must play an adult child who takes care of everything by herself. His small body with limited energy is washing the clothes of his parents.

Her mother was a crazy woman whom Rachel could neither talk to nor talk to. His mother was busy walking in the market picking up whatever she liked.

His father had to work as a jobless laborer to make money that was paid per day. All that was done by Mr. Lukman to buy medicine for his wife and also a liter of rice to eat them that day.

One of Rachel's teachers, Ms. Nita approached Rachel who was washing clothes in the creek. Though it is currently winter but Rachel does not care about the state of nature. He just wants to finish his job.

"Rachel.. !" Sapa Bu Mita starts the greeting.

"Eh, Mita Mita!" Rachel gave a smile to her teacher who had only taught for one month at Rachel's school.

"Mother nyuci too?" Rachel asked while looking at something around the creek.

"Mom just wants to see nature around here, Rachel. Do you always wash your parents' clothes?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Where is your mother and your father?"

"My father is at work and my mother....?" Rachel looks confused to answer because it is very crowded when she hears new people who do not know her mother.

"Is your mother no longer Rachel?"

"There's still Mom. It's just my mom can't be counted on to do anything." Rachel said while brushing her father's clothes.

"Is your mother sick, Rachel?"

"Hm!"

"What's your mom hurting?"

"Mother's soul pain, aka crazy." Rachel with great difficulty.

"Where can you learn to wash?"

"Seeing my father when I was four."

"When did you learn to wash?"

"When I was seven?"

"What does your father do?"

"Labour pelvis."

"You mean?"

"Father shouldered rice, wheat sacks, sometimes cement, or wooden blocks put on top of container cars or trucks to the brim."

"How much do they pay your father in a month?"

"Not in monthly salary because dad works odd jobs. So it's paid when the job's done."

"How much?"

"Twenty thousand."

"What...?" Sentak Bu Mita did not believe in his hearing.

"We never complained about my mother. The important thing about eating today is that we are always grateful." Timpal Rachel by staying busy washing the clothes of her parents to clean.

"Why not let your father wash Rachel's clothes?"

"My father was too tired to work. I don't want to see my dad come home and finish the homework. What can I do, well I do."

"Can I play in your house?"

"My house is not really worth a visit to a beautiful guest like my teacher. I'm afraid Mita won't feel comfortable."

"No problem for Mita, Rachel. Our poverty is only in the world, in the hereafter there is no difference in social status because everything is in the love of enjoyment by God according to his deeds." Mita convinces Rachel to accept her as a guest.

"alright. But Rachel also has to find vegetables and snails times to be able to be this lunch companion." Rachel.

"Kale or spinach that grows wild around this canyon. My house is not far from this canyon. Sometimes I like to find a tree too. But I didn't bring a machete to cut the bamboo shoot." Continue Rachel as she stepped her little feet between the trees around her followed by Mita's mother.

Rachel picked up a lot of snails at times and in packs with lotus leaves then proceeded to look for vegetables that grew among other wild plants.

After enough to cook for lunch and dinner, Rachel takes Ms. Mita to her house not far from the canyon. Ms. Mita stared at the house that was more worthy of being called a rickety hut. His heart was so sad to know the condition of his student's house.

"For a moment, Mom! I want to dry these clothes first. After that we can talk again while cooking." Mita said then took a small bench to be able to ride on the bench hanging clothes she and her parents to sunbathe.

He had to squeeze again the bottom of the shirt to dry quickly because the clothes they have are only five pieces each of them.

After drying, Rachel washed the river snail again and boiled it for a while. He cooked with firewood.

While waiting for the snail to mature, Rachel weed the vegetables assisted by Mita's mother so that this girl quickly finished her work.

"Is the snail just boiled?"

"No mom. I want to cook it with spicy sweet acid."

"Is there no other taste?" Ask Ms. Mita.

"There's Mom."

"What?"

"Cure."

"Where is your life that you can taste between sweet, sour, salty and spicy?" Ask Ms. Mita.

"My life tastes salty, ma'am."

"Why is it salty?"

"My father made a living by working hard until his sweat poured out in the hot summer sun. Doesn't that sweat taste salty, Mom?

When I cry too much, my tears are salty too." Rachel answered with a sad face.

This little girl raised the snail stew pot and then sifted it out. He began to mix the seasoning by kneading it. A few minutes later, the food was cooked. He tried his spicy sweet sour snail turned out to be very spicy. His tongue was slightly burning but he was able to endure it.

Ms. Mita noticed the little girl who had a flushed face withstanding the pungent taste despite her repeated gulps of water.

"Why are you cooking it too spicy Rachel?"

"For my age the food was very spicy but quite standard for both my parents who were happy with the spicy food. If you follow my taste it will feel bland on the tongues of both my parents." Rachel said with a smile and went back to accompany her teacher's mother chatting.

"Rachel...!"

"Do you eat what you are like every day?"

"Yes Mom. We can only eat meat on the day of the sacrifice if someone delivers us meat. We ate rice and were very grateful. We're always raising money to buy some pretty expensive mother's medicine." Clearly Rachel.

"Does your mother have to take medicine every day?"

"Hm! If I'm late for the drugs, I'm gonna go berserk and even want to kill me." Rachel.

"Oh my God, how terrible Rachel is about your mother's illness. Do you want your mother to be healed?"

"Yes Mita Bu. I want you to heal as soon as possible. That way my friends no longer tell me I'm a crazy kid." Clearly Rachel was crying.

"What do you want with mom when she recovers, Rachel?"

"I want my mom to cook for me."

"Why ask mom to cook for you?"

"Wouldn't every mother in the world cook for her child?"

"Are you not ashamed of having the mother of a mad woman?"

Rachel's tears welled up in her sadness at hearing her teacher's question.