LIKE I CAN'T SEE

BAG 1 MY NAME IS JOVAN

After school. As usual, I walked down the highway. Stepping to a stop then onward each saw a garbage can on the side of the road.

I deliberately did not pass through the narrow alley that I used to pass every morning. Because for a big reason I hope to be able to find food scraps in a big roadside barrel.

I took the rest of the rice packet. "Thank God I got it. For lunch with Mom", the thing I always say when I get a piece of gold.

Even if it's just the rest of people's food. But to me it is gold. Because with a mouthful of food left over, my mother and I could survive to my current age.

Bukk. A bunch of kids my age suddenly slapped the package of food I was holding. "Hey, look so sorry for your life. Take it and take it back. Haha", one of the children stepped on the package and that was how they called me. Without even saying my name. Maybe it's my clothes that I don't deserve to wear so I deserve to be called that.

That was the treatment of Bagas and his three friends. They always come all of a sudden to annoy me and spy on me. The insults they always throw are no stranger to my ears.

Introduce. I'm Jovan. I was eleven. Sitting in the sixth grade of elementary school. I'm just the son of a jobless laborer. Named Mak Silah. As a child, I lived alone with my mother and had no father.

According to my mother's story, my father died when I was seven months in the womb. It can be ascertained once suffering from it my mother fought alone until now raised me.

"Sorry Mom, I came home with nothing. Has your mother eaten?", asked when I got to the small-sized hut.

The house on the riverbank deserves to be called a hut. Because of its size which is only three times two square meters. With a roof full of fillings here and there. That's the picture of my home.

Even if it's like that. My mother and I are thankful enough. Because where else would we live if not in this house? My father's only home. My father's work at the time.

"Had son, Mommy had eaten" replied my mother who was definitely lying.

I just fell silent. I take off my boots which are actually a little tight when in use. I sip the water poured Mak Silah.

"Sir, Jovan to the rice fields first ya looking for tutut" I said.

Tutut is a freshwater snail spread in Sumatra, Java, Kalimantan, and Sulawesi. A large shiny shell, shaped like a tennis ball, yellowish green or brownish in color, decorated with brown stripes. This shelled animal is also known as a sloth, rice snail, water snail, or tutut.

I looked for the tutut in the rice field belonging to my neighbor. They let me find as much as I want in their fields. Just so I don't make their plants messy.

The knee I get is usually sold. Or I can barter with rice. Because the tutelage I get is uncertain, I once traded it for a quarter-liter rice. It's okay, for me to eat me and my mom.

My mother once forbade me to stop working for a tutelage. And focus on my brlajar. Because I often get mediocre grades. Understand it because I have a lot of time to help my mother. I often neglect my studies. I rarely forget to do my pr.

"Oh, can I change it for this fish?", I bargained with the salted fish seller that afternoon.

"Could but have a little. Wanna naw? If you don't want it already" said the fish seller with ketusnya. Again, I was immune to their treatment.

"Mom, I'm home. Let's have a good meal this afternoon" I said as I opened the door and met my mother who was sewing my uniform.

"Why are salt fish exchanged? Did you get a lot of tutoring today?", asked my mother.

"Lumayan Mak's. Than yesterday".

I went to the kitchen to wash the salted fish and fry it. The seductive smell began to smell in my nose. Put it on the plate and then put it on the couch.

Fragile beds with mats are our seats for eating. I started to get rice on my mother's plate with the salted fish I had just fried.

"Mom, let's eat" call me. Mom did not come long. We eat with his food.

"Son, I'm sorry you haven't been able to buy you a new uniform" said his son.

"It's okay, Mak. Don't think about it too much" I replied not wanting to make my mother continue to feel guilty.

"But surely you're always laughing at your friends son".

I took my mother's hand. Then kiss them both. "No Mak. My friends are all good to me", I answered lying. I don't have any friends at my school. They all stayed away from me because I was a poor boy. Not comparable to them. I could go to school there and I am very grateful.

I saw the look on my mother's face that was beginning to calm down. I'm a little relieved that Mom would believe me. No more talking about uniforms. Being able to eat everyday for me is more than enough.

Mom then stroked the top of my head. "Sleep, you must be tired today. Don't be late tomorrow morning to come to school", ask mom.

I also obey. I immediately moved to the next room. The room is blocked by plywood. The ground floor is covered with a mat above it in a thin mattress. The place where I sleep every night to head to dreamland.

While my mother, she slept on the couch earlier. My mother forbade me to sleep together for the reason that it was inappropriate for a boy to still sleep as one with his mother. I also accept that reason.

Every time before sleep. I don't forget I always pray. Prayers for my greatest woman. Mums. May God raise my mother's degree. And I can make her happy someday.

I often shed tears. But I always held back so my mom wouldn't hear it. I didn't want my mother to feel sad for seeing me as fragile. Let only God know my grievances. As for my mother, no.

"Good sleep, Mother" I said after offering a prayer. Because only the plywood border has begun to weathered, Mother can easily hear and say my words. That is my habit every night before bed.

God, give me and my mom a really beautiful dream tonight. Let my mother feel the beauty of life even if only in a dream.