Mom's Not a Prostitute
Conversation of Hearts
He was just someone who happened to be present when I really needed a sharing friend. Not more!
---
Early in the morning, before Puang Nani's husband came out pulling ojek, I asked permission to hitch a ride to Bajoe— to the store where Dahlan worked. Pamble at once. I can't stay with them any longer. I don't want to ruin the peace in this house. Puang Nani put on a guilty and unkind look. He knows, I overheard their conversation last night. He tried to arrest me.
"I came here to visit, not to stay. I have an acquaintance in Bajoe, he promises to help me find a job" I pretended.
Puang Nani held me in tears. Then he gave me some money, of course, without the knowledge of the husband who was busy heating his motorbike outside, as if he could not wait to take me away from his house.
"Anytime, you can come back here if you need help," he said in a trembling voice before completely letting go of me.
I nodded weakly.
***
I arrived at Dahlan—Toko Harapan—'s workplace while he was busy serving buyers. I don't know what reason brought me here. We were just accidentally introduced by the rain, I shouldn't have involved the white man in my problems. No, I did not have the slightest intention to engage. I just wanted to ask for help. I don't know where else to go.
He looked astonished when he accidentally saw me with Tiara standing in the shop courtyard. He hurried out to see me.
"Eh, you! Where are you going?" ask her with a smile.
I'm confused as to what to answer. To be more precise, I didn't know what to ask her for.
"Kok, quiet?" He nodded in wonder.
"I need a place to stay. You mean, you know that not-so-expensive rented house around here?"
"There, anyway! But, I'm working." He seemed to think. I feel bad for bothering him. "Wait a minute, yeah," he added. He then ran back into the store and seemed to talk to Mr. Bahar who was sitting behind the cashier table. Not long after he came back to see me with a big smile. He said, after acknowledging me as his aunt in front of Mr. Bahar, he got permission to drive me to find a rented house. I chuckled while shaking his arm. This was the first time I laughed completely loosely, ever since Daeng Hasan's figure incarnated a demon.
Thanks to Dahlan, I managed to find a rented house that was quite cheap. The money from Puang Nani is enough to pay rent for a month. There was even left over to eat for a few days. The place is so makes it. It's empty hopping. Unless there is a mattress in the room, some dishes in the kitchen, as well as a large bucket to hold water in the bathroom. Under the circumstances, I cannot hope for more. The important thing is safe and can be used as a shelter when it is hot or rainy. It's so much better than me and Tiara being stranded on the streets. Although there is only one bedroom with a living room and kitchen that intersects, I believe here is much more comfortable than staying with Daeng Hasan. For a moment, I remembered the man whose life was surrounded by pretenses. What's he doing now? Was looking for me? Or even have invited the woman****** that to stay with him? If true, hopefully he is not used as a money-making machine to replace me. I am enough to feel this suffering. I wish I never saw him again. Forever ever!
***
Occupying a new house with all the problems behind it makes me not calm. There are things that disturb the mind. The fear of Daeng Hasan's appearance at any time and pulled me back to the black world. Shadow Puang Sudi who now claims the Mak heritage house as his own. I am now a single parent to Tiara but without a penny. I'm trying to calm down. God cannot bestow all these trials if I am unable to face them. After putting the Tiara to sleep, put all the remains in order. After sweating, I hope the noise in the head can subside a little. In the midst of the busyness, someone suddenly knocked on the door, followed by a greeting with a voice that began to be familiar to my ears. I kept a broom in the corner of the room and then opened the door. My guess is correct. The man standing at the door is Dahlan. He held something large in his right hand, and a plastic bag containing something in his other hand.
"Can you, right, meet at this hour?" ask her pleasantries with a line of smiles. The slanted smile I patented as one of his hallmarks. It was already quite late for the size of the guest. The clock on the wall shows 9 o'clock over 30 minutes.
"Ah, you are this. Please enter!" Dahlan is not a guest. He can come to this house anytime. Although he had only known for two days, it was as if he had done a lot in my life. I feel I owe him.
"Why did you finish up with that remembrance?" he asked after we sat down, facing.
"Oh. Been cleaning up!"
"Happeningly. I brought some fried food, here! After you clean up, you're hungry, right?" a small laugh slid from his lips.
"You know," welcome me a little to the point. Then move back to get a plate and drinking water. Upon returning, he began to appear busy with a large enough object earlier.
"What's that?" ask me after moving the fry to the plate.
"Tik machine."
Actually I know it's a typewriter. But, what was brought here for?
I ate a piece of fried tofu while paying attention to its bustle.
"I don't calmly type at home. Abdul and Maman love to protest. Said the sound of this typewriter interrupting their break." The two names belonged to his two best friends. And I just found out, it's a typewriter like I heard this. Quite noisy at this hour, when most people have moved to the contest to rest a tired body after working all day. It is only natural that Abdul and Maman feel disturbed.
"It's okay, isn't it, special tonight I finished my writing here?" suddenly tanyanya. Ensuring.
"For the next nights it is also permissible, kok," I replied, making him smile widely, then again busy.
"You like it, huh, writing?"
He just nodded without looking.
"Why?"
Suddenly his hands stopped from all his activities. Looks like I've made the concentration go away. He breathed heavily.
"For me, writing is an escape from all the things I don't want to think about for long. When I have a lot of problems, I spill it into writing. Even when sad and do not know who to share, then the typewriter is the answer. And again, by writing I can convey something that is often difficult to express verbally. Writing makes me feel more alive."
I'm flabbergasted. So deep is the meaning of writing for him? Then why is it as if there is suffering implied in the sentence just now?
"I'm sorry if I'm wrong. It seems like you are harboring something, which will probably feel lighter after sharing it with someone else. From now on, we can be sharing friends. Speak out! I'm not an expert, but at least I can be a good listener." I don't know on what basis I said the sentence just now, like I'm a person who has no burden.
He's away from the typewriter. Secure the position, stick your back on the wall where the paint starts to peel off. Several times he was still seen sighing heavily, as if calming something in the chest.
"Ambo wants me to follow in his footsteps to be a soldier, to serve the country. But since I was a kid I didn't like the military world that I thought was close to violence. If asked to choose, I prefer to be a businessman, doing a job that allows me to keep writing. Because he felt opposed, Ambo began to dislike me. It was very clear that he distinguished me from a brother who would obey all his wishes. Including being a soldier." Dahlan pause, take a breath. "But what I do not understand the most, Ambo betrothed an older sister to the one I loved a long time ago. On the basis of the friendship of the parents, their marriage actually took place. I don't think that brother and Ambo did that to me. They know how much I love that woman. The woman did not seem to mind either. Maybe he finally realized, there's no guarantee of a future if he chooses to live with a dissident like me." Dahlan lowered his head, watching the movements of the fingers that he busied himself. I was confused how to respond. Everyone has a different burden of life.
"Mak ji reason I always go home every holiday. It will hurt if it takes too long to endure longing. Ambo really doesn't care about me anymore. Not even paying for my life. Therefore, I was forced to work at Pak Bahar's place and postponed college for some time. I've got to collect the money first. Someday I will prove to Ambo that I can live my own way, without being a soldier."
"I like your spirit. But don't let it even cause a grudge. Either way, it's still your ambassadors."
Dahlan just looked at me. Then silence.
"You alone?"
My blood suddenly rippled unnaturally when he asked back. I was misbehaving.
"What is the reason a mother and her little girl are stuck in the rain? And now it seems to have no place to live in its own village." Dahlan's words are so humbling. On target. Then he shifted a little position, as if comforting, waiting for the sentence to come out of my mouth.
Dahlan had entrusted her life story to me, so I had no reason to dodge. In the end I told you the sad story behind the escape. All of them, without a single piece I hid. His forehead shriveled hearing me speak. Sometimes his eyes seemed to be glazed, and radiated furiously. I couldn't help but cry.
Tonight there has been a conversation of a pair of hearts by two people who have not long known each other. I don't know on what basis.
Dahlan went home without finishing his writing. He said he would continue later after dawn prayers, before entering work. His focus broke after glaring at every bleakness I had.
I lay down beside Tiara, trying to kill the rest of the night by sleeping. But hard. Dahlan's voice is still ringing. His behavior is shadowing. His slanted smile was clearly imprinted on the head. Why am I thinking about that guy? No, I can't be like this. He was just someone who happened to be present when I really needed a sharing friend. Not more!
***
[Connected]
