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Secret

Renzana Alcatraz

"Tomorrow we'll go to Arez's. It's still raining. Poor Araz must be too..."

"Mother," I said as I touched her shoulder before the middle-aged woman continued her sentence. I shook my head so that my mother wouldn't tell Kanya anything about me. Including the imperfections that had been hidden behind my ribs. "Let Araz tell Kanya about Araz, Mother."

"But Son..."

"Mother."

"Alright, however, Kanya must know your situation first."

I smiled at the woman's statement. Kanya looked at me intently before asking in a trembling voice. Maybe he felt played. Or whatever it was because he felt he was the only one who didn't know what we were talking about.

"Why is Emang Mas Araz?" kanya asked while looking at me sharply.

"Oh yeah Bun, didn't Arez leave anything for Kanya? Where do you keep it?"

I don't mean to ignore Kanya, but telling her about my current situation is like paving the way to tell her about Arez. But I'm not wholeheartedly ready to tell Kanya about Arez. So I chose to enter Arez's room to find a box that Kanya planned to give at graduation. Meanwhile, mom and dad chatted a lot to Kanya while showing the photo album of the man.

Unknowingly my tears flowed. The warmth in the living room was teasing the sensitive side in my heart. Behind the door I left slightly open, I sobbed without a sound.

***

Arez's room door opened. Kanya stepped in after closing the door more tightly. Without realizing it for nearly half an hour I hid in Arez's room under the pretext of finding the thing the man wanted to give Kanya. I know exactly where the box is kept.

The woman is looking at me now. Look at his sharp eyes. As if demanding an explanation. With undaunted steps he walked towards me. Leave a distance of only one hand.

My heart beats increasingly irregularly. Just being around her makes me nervous. Moreover, he stood this close to me. If he looked up at me, I could feel his breathing.

"It turns out you're not just a scary prison, but a math problem that's hard to solve. I don't like math at all. Sucks. It is complicated and it must take precision and patience to finish it. Why keep convoluted anyway? You're math, but it's also a language that has a thousand meanings even if it's just one clause."

"What?"

"I just want to know where Arez is, Mas. There are so many sorry words I can't say. There are thousands of regrets I have to say. Please meet me with Arez. He's all right, isn't he? He's not Mas Araz's dead brother, is he?"

I let out a long sigh before closing my eyes in order to repel the tiredness that had suddenly attacked. How do I explain this complexity?

"Her... "

"Where are Arez now, can't we really find him now?"

"You won't be able to argue with Mom or Dad, Kanya, we'll go together tomorrow."

"You're not playing games with me, are you?" ask Kanya full of search.

I smiled knot answering Kanya's question. That woman is still shrouded in bad thoughts about me.

"You can think of me as playing you, Kanya. But they're both the sincere people I've known." I took a deep breath before continuing my sentence. "I've put Arez's seat on the bed. Sori, I'm out first. You can rest for a while," I said I intended to leave Kanya alone.

But the woman pulled my body and hugged me from behind. My back was hot with tears.

"What, besides math and language, is Mas Araz also history deflected? Why is it so hard to understand Araz? I'm..."

Kanya did not continue her sentence. He sobbed while hugging my back. Close-fitting. Real tight. I couldn't even take it off to hold it in my arms.

"Would you like to hear my story before you see Arez tomorrow?"

I felt Kanya nod. Then slowly let go of his embrace. I looked at her face with tears. Does my presence in his life make that woman suffer?

"Listen, you remember Hanung's story when I got the nickname Aldo?"

Kanya nodded.

Again the woman just nodded. While I was only able to sigh before asking her to sit on the bed that had been unused for a long time.

***

I took a deep breath before telling a secret that I had been keeping all this time. Except with Hanung, of course. Because that man saw my worst condition at one time.

Once again I let out a long sigh before saying, "I was born with an abnormality in the part of my heart organ that was not yet fully formed. Since the age of three, the signs often appear and make me more often in and out of the hospital. I grew up with various medical treatments to keep my heart functioning as it should."

For a moment I stopped. Observing Kanya's face looking surprised at my story.

I continued, "Even when other kids my age can run, chase, or do whatever they like with peers, I spend more time in the hospital. Control my heart condition regularly and end up swallowing bitter liquid so that the beat behind my ribs does not stop.

Whereas when other children freely follow sports lessons, I can be sure my place is on the edge of the field. Staring with envy my friends who have a healthy heart and can run around. Even if I have to exercise, I can only follow light movements that are adjusted to my body condition.

That rhythm continued until I was third grade Junior High. Even so, I am grateful to still be able to go to school like other children. Even with a variety of activity limitations."

Every now and then I glanced at the solemn Kanya listening to my story. The woman looked at me with a look I couldn't explain. Only her tears flowed down her cheeks, without making a sound.

"That's also why you didn't take me along and when you had to change jobs as a police chief. He didn't want me to get tired and then make my body drop. After all, the beautiful environmental conditions and far from pollution the better to keep my health.

Until I stepped on one High School when my father had to switch tasks again to Jakarta, I forced to come along. At first, my father refused. He insisted that I stay in Solo in a good environment. But he thought, maybe in a big city can find a specialist who can save the life of his oldest child.

Indeed the father found a more excellent specialist doctor with more modern medical equipment. My routine in and out of the hospital is still continuing. But I also have other activities that are more challenging since knowing Hanung. You know, Hanung's a typical guy who's hard to keep quiet for too long?"

Kanya responded to my question with a nod of her head. He really only heard, without intending to interrupt the story I was telling with a quivering voice. Heh, even when remembering my life story all that was left was the pain that was squeezing.

"Friends during my High School introduced a new experience that had always been my imagination. Starting to come to school late to be dried in the ceremonial field, pursued by teachers when skipping lessons, to participate in brawls between students.

At first I thought my condition was okay. I can still breathe regularly even though my heart workload is increasing. But I was wrong. It was the beginning of a disaster that I deliberately created myself.

Class 2 High School I had my first surgery. The doctors did something to my heart to save my life. Whatever they do, I don't want to know. After the operation was over I didn't want to hear about my condition. It's just that I feel better after the surgery and fall asleep with the delinquencies of teenagers in general.

The highlight was when I was in fifth semester. The workload of the heart that I forced beyond its capacity made my condition deteriorate again. I have to go back in and out of the hospital for a check-up. All strenuous activity was stopped. Dad was really watching me tight. Even all campus activities including my activities were stopped. I went back to living my boring childhood.

But the damage to my heart is getting worse. The only thing that could save me was a heart transplant. It also can not be done instantly like we are looking for blood donors to PMI. I had to wait until an unspecified time limit.

Before that, they went back to repairing the damage to my heart through surgery. The former incision that was once done when I was in 2nd grade of High School, was opened again with the same healing method.

From then on, I began to obey my father if I still wanted to live according to my own will. Far from the parents' eyes, because the father has been moved to Bandung until his retirement."

"I'm..." Kanya did not continue her sentence and just looked at me. Tears did not dry on her cheeks.

"Yes?"

"May I see the scar?"

Deg. For a moment I felt my heart not beating. Kanya's question succeeded in making my heart beat uncharacteristically a moment later. Not the thump that I've felt so far that it makes me often in and out of the hospital, but another thump. The thump that was accompanied by the effect of butterflies flying at the bottom of my stomach.

"You sure?" I asked with a voice stuck in the esophagus. Kanya just nodded.

I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. It was not only my body that was suddenly hot, but my face as well. How could Kanya lightly ask me to show you the scars of the operation?

Gosh, stop thinking so bawdy at a time like this Araz. He just wants to see your scar. Wasn't... Oh, stop perverted thinking.

But before I unbuttoned the third button, Kanya stopped the movement of my hand. The woman looked me right into my eyes. The distance so close that we could feel the breath of each other.

His whisper was almost without a sound,"Don't show it now! I don't know what would happen if Mas Araz..."

Before Kanya finished her sentence, I kissed the woman's lips. We shared our longing in silence. A kiss deepened as well.