Mom's Not a Prostitute
Grief News
I don't know what God meant to bring me to that asshole.
---
Sengkang-Watampone, 1999
Years changed without bringing any improvement in my life. I was getting used to serving any man Daeng Hasan brought in, as the mask of falsehood got thicker on his face. I've thought about pouring poison into his food, implanting a knife into his heart in the middle of the night, or anything that could wipe him out of my life. But urung. My son would rather have a mother forced to sell herself than a murderer. I'm not resigned, I just haven't found a way to escape these shackles. I don't know when I'm gonna have to go through all this.
Today the Lord again dropped his ordeal, perhaps after seeing me tough enough so far. In the morning I was surprised by the arrival of Puang Sudi. My feeling was not good at all. It is not usual for him to come this early, especially without Mak being with him. My tears popped for a moment after she told me that Mak breathed last night. He said his health had deteriorated over the past few days. I immediately woke Daeng Hasan and Tiara, then packed some clothes. It looks like we will be at Watampone for a few days. I secretly wish I didn't have to go back to this city.
The atmosphere of the house was crowded when we arrived. Many local people came to visit. The relatives have also gathered. Mak's body was placed in the middle room. It has been memorized and covered with a piece of batik cloth. I sat down beside him. Because I couldn't stand it, I immediately grabbed that lifeless body. Tangisku roaring. Some of Mak's brothers who came from the village next door tried to calm down.
There are a lot of things I can't tell Mak. With this suffering, he had no chance at all to know it. Until his death, in his eyes Daeng Hasan remained the perfect man entrusted to make his youngest daughter happy. The gentleman who came to him five years ago to beg for his blessing, took his daughter away. Now, I can only be sincere, may his worship be accepted and get a decent place by His side. And sorry, because I did not have time to take care of him in his last moments.
***
Two days after Mak was buried, Daeng Ida and her husband and children had just arrived. They traveled across the island by sea. He received this sad news from Puang Sudi who did take the time to the wartel after meeting me in Sengkang. Daeng Ida took a call to a neighbor who already had a phone at his house. Through his letter at that time, he included a phone number that can be contacted if there is an urgent matter. While Daeng Firman, we can only send him a letter. I don't know when the letter arrived in his hand. And whether he's going home or not.
During his time here, Daeng Hasan really returned to being a manly man, the owner of a knotty smile that was good at attracting the attention of many people. He mingled with distant relatives who had just come to mourn. Appearing as a lucky man who could have a child as smart as Tiara. When asked about the busyness, immediately he told about his involvement in a series of large projects. None of them were aware of Daeng Hasan's lies. Once again I say, Daeng Hasan is good at taking people's hearts. Me, Mak, Puang Sudi, and everyone who knew him were successfully tricked. I don't know what God meant to bring me to that asshole.
I'm sure, Daeng Hasan definitely doesn't feel at home here. His brain was probably busy calculating how many rupiahs floated during the break trading my body. But he won't mess around as long as Daeng Ida and the rest of the family are still here. Every time I look at it, my eyeballs pose a threat: I'll end this charade if you dare to mess around. But I didn't have the courage to do it. But at least I won't have to serve those dog guys for the next few days. I'm just going home after Daeng Ida returns to Riau. We are enjoying this togetherness, trying to give up Mak's departure, as well as our fate as orphans. I quietly prayed, may Mak's death open a little gap in Daeng Hasan's heart. Letting a glimmer of guidance in. I'm willing to completely replace Daeng Hasan's job as a construction coolie. Anything. Just don't sell yourself.
***
[Connected]
