Go home

Go Home The Missing Child*

Renjana Kanya's

I didn't agree to Araz's call. There are still things that bother my mind. About the work, about the permission that I have to submit after a sabbatical, deadlines that accumulate, and many other things. However, on the other hand, the phrase Om Eka still continues to ring. About how that woman didn't break up praying for me. About how the woman misses all the time, but it is too prestige to beg and admit if it is necessary. Also about the possibility that the woman will change her mind when I get home.

"His, is there anything that disturbs your mind?"

Araz's question breaks my daydream. The man sat across the dining table putting down a plate of freshly cooked side dishes. Don't know what. Suddenly my sense of taste seemed to lose taste even though the aroma that smelled so delicious.

Araz, who realized I was worried, grabbed my hand and held it tightly. He saw my bowed face hiding a sour look and holding back tears. I don't want her to see me cry anymore.

"Hanung must have understood. This is not a planned thing. Say aja. Or should I say the same to Hanung?"

"No need, Mas. I ... "

The anxiety still gripped my heart. I couldn't reveal it to Araz, if I still piled up the disappointment that had petrified into a grudge against that woman. At the beginning of the problems between us appeared to force me to leave the house, until a unilateral decision that he never talked to me. Heh, what am I expecting?

"Him, I don't deserve to actually talk about gini. I'm not a filial parent, either, but have I ever told you about Adhyaksa?"

Araz's question made me frown. As long as I knew Araz, I had never heard of Adhyaksa. So what does Adhyaksa have to do with my problem this time?

"He's my brother. Do you remember if I had a dead sister?"

I just nodded in response to Araz's question. The man had indeed told me if he had a brother who had died from the same disease as he suffered, but not even though Araz mentioned his name. I even thought that Arezlah was his sister.

Araz still held my hand tightly. His eyes that were as big as those brownish almond seeds were staring at me fixedly. Sometimes he tidied up my children's hair that covered my eyes. Before he finally told me.

"Then, I once had regrets for Aksa. We grew up as brothers who rarely met. In fact, Aksa always wanted to spend a lot of time with me. But I prefer to feed my ego and never pay attention to it. I prefer to pursue my dreams and never ask what she needs. I thought, after all, there is a father with Eomma who is more able to devote his love story to Aksa. Aksa still needs me as her brother. Until finally God never gave me the chance when the night Aksa relapsed and begged to meet me. I just do a job that has been delayed. Just think, tomorrow I'll see Aksa. Without thinking a bit if the body is already stiff that I will meet the day shift."

Araz's story is long. The man paused his story. However, I began to understand the direction Araz was talking about. As Om Eka said, maybe this is an opportunity given by God to improve everything.

For a moment I remembered the Son. My brother-in-law once told me if he wanted to take care of me and another sister in the stomach of Mama. Although he has not fully forgiven their past actions, but he said that they also deserve to be happy. He hopes the presence of a tiny figure he wants to keep anyway, can make things better. Even before the fateful event happened to him, he had asked me to go home.

The ringing of the device distracted me. The name of the Son appears on the screen. Om Eka must have managed to contact the man and the news about Mama had reached him. I hesitated to press the green button on the screen.

"May I speak with the Son?" ask Araz. Without thinking twice, I handed the flat object to Araz. "Hello Son, this is Araz. Yeah, don't worry. Good. Thanks though. Yeah, we'll be gone soon."

That short conversation I guessed about what. It is clear from Araz's face that looks tense.

My tears broke again. Hearing the news that the Son gave made my body tremble. It felt like the whole bone was not strong enough to withstand the weight of my own body. As if someone was being forcefully pulled away from the body. I can't deny it, if I miss it too. However, revenge has been broken.

Araz helped me get up from the chair. Then I took me in his comfortable arms. Although not also eliminate the shaking due to knowing the condition of the mother who just delivered the Son.

"I'm with you, let's face this together. You're not alone, Kanya."

Without being able to speak, I was only able to hug Araz's body and shed all the tears in the man's arms.

***

In the end I was here again. On a night train ride with the same man as late last year when Mas Hanung asked me for a long holiday. If we used to be awkward and talk about work to melt the atmosphere, now we are more silent. Drowning in each other's minds.

Just lean on each other and link fingers to warm as well as strengthen. More precisely, I was the one who sought warmth through Araz's hand. The cold air of AC shivered not only my body, but also my heart. Before it completely froze, I wanted to hug her so as not to get stiff. My liver. It has been a long time since hardened like a rock.

Through Araz's hand, too, I sought strength in the face of a reality that was still gray. I never knew what would happen after this episode. My shadow about mama blurred. I don't want to guess what happened next.

In the end, I was like the missing child that Andre Gide described translated by Chairil Anwar. Although not exactly the same. We both ran away from home. Satisfying the desire to seek confession. However, the prodigal son that Andre described had a search attachment to God.

Me being?

I am a world traveler who is too cowardly to face problems and decide to run away. Burying a real grudge against my own actions. Heh, is it really for my own work? In fact, they also contribute to form my behavior like this, right?

Heh, however I accept, it seems that the grudge is still left in the darkest corner of the heart.

If I am indeed the prodigal son that Andre described, then in my heart I just beg, I find God and God find me. Accepting with sincerity everything He has given. As a process towards maturation countless by numbers. Maybe also characters.

And, this trip home is really a God-given opportunity to make things better. I wasn't expecting more. I don't want to demand too much of him either. I just hope that opportunity really still exists.

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*Chairil Anwar translated from the work of Andre Gide