OUR HUSBAND IS TOGETHER

SHELOVE ME?

“Huaaa huaaa huaaa.” The cry that came from the bottom direction was increasingly broken making me even more panicked. At a speed of 100 km/hour I was ragged and running towards a small room next to the toilet.

The door opened a moment before I pulled the knob from the outside. As soon as I took one step I was immediately treated by scattered dust and some cardboard scattered on the floor. What the hell just happened? Where's my son?

I gawked when the figure I was looking for was not on the mini-bed. Usually before work I always leave him in this restroom. After I finished doing my ritual with the pile of bed linen then I took my son again and brought him home.

“Pricilia, where are you nak?” The crying voice just disappeared. Panic was raging in my head. I swept through the room, breaking into the irregularly scattered cardboard boxes.

Huh!

My kid.

Why did you change positions below, baby?

Did you fall?

The insolent son of a bitch who did this to my little daughter. Damnit damnit! Pricilia lay weakly with bare chests on the floor. What's the matter? If only my heart could speak, I would have asked who did this to him. Honey, she's 8 months old. Only a single two fractures could he deal with at this moment.

“You're gapapa huh son? Which one hurts?” I said as I lifted her tiny body from down there. His eyes were still puffy, his breathing was also roaring rapidly.

Here, I'm the only worker who carries a child. At first the bar owner didn't allow me to remember it would interfere with my performance, but after I gave understanding and some tears as the mainstay of the style finally he was forced to let an 8-month-old baby in his bar. On one condition; my son must be in this little room as long as I fight with the mountains of rags and soap scum. Poor Pricilia. He had to get carried away on all this in a state that had just hatched. But how else? No one can guarantee his safety if I leave him at home.

“Ma ma ma ma ma.” The poor baby continued to babble, revealing his fearful face that was still enveloping. I clenched it tightly, kissing the top of his head that had not been overgrown with hair.

“You're safe with mommy baby. Let's go home.”

The atmosphere of the bar is still quite crowded with the thump of music and a crowd of people who are shaken wildly. Not only that, some drunkards also seemed to stagger there. They were accompanied by the sight of exposed skirts and cleavages that were drawn from the clothes of the women. All of them looked crazy, I watched from the transparent wall made of clear glass.

Gedebag.

“Hei Chevani. Thank goodness you're here with your son. Hufft.” A man in a puffed up stare made a sound from all over the other. He looked as if he had just been chased by a demon. His distended stomach rose and fell along with his rough wasted breath.

“Aren. You why?”

“There was an old man who broke down the door of the room where your son was fast asleep.”

“What! What's he want?”

“At first I didn't understand even I thought it was your man. But after seeing him enter without a key and break down the door I was then suspicious.” Aren begins his explanation with the rest of the oxygen he still has.

“Then?”

“Then the old man stripped your son's clothes and began to smell his little belly. He wanted to rape your son Che.”

“What!” Which human would do this to a baby like Pricilia. I was shocked, like someone was slipping from my chest.

“I hit the old man all out, but before that I put your son on the floor because if he stays in the bed, the devil will easily bring your baby away considering the distance to the mattress is very close. And I'm in the doorway.”

My heart's sore. I closed my ears tightly as if I did not want to listen to further explanations from Aren. Kasian my daughter. He's just an innocent poor baby, I don't want him to be touched by just anyone especially with his age of just 8 months. Suffice me. It is enough that my mother should bear the burden of this suffering. Not Pricilia, my son.

“Starting tomorrow I'll take care of your son as long as you work. I don't want this holy baby to be hurt by the hands of Devil Jahannam. Never mind, let's go home.” Aren looks very cloudy. His eyes glazed over as he rubbed the tops of Pricilia's head gently. I don't know since when the guy in the balloon postures liked children.

Aren is the right-hand man of the owner of this bar. The only man who cares so much about everything that concerns me. He's also the one who gave me a wad of money for the robbery I had a few months ago with Pricilia. And he was the one who always drove me home after I finished work. Actually there is a special driver who drove the night shift workers to go home each. But then Aren offered to be my permanent driver. He did that too without being paid. Really, I owe a lot to that guy.

“Why are you done working unlike your usual hours?” Aren's question broke my daydream. His hand started grabbing the USB and plugging it in on the phone, playing the silent songs that made me even more eroded memories in the past.

“The stains on the fabric are very difficult to lose.”

“You mean?”

“Many bed linen are stained and I don't need to explain what a stain is. I'm sure you know that, too. I'm up to overwhelmed.”

“But you're okay right?”

I frowned after hearing the slashing question from Aren. He doesn't usually ask me about my body condition. His eyes also rolled softly. This time I noticed that he was drunk.

“We slow down. I don't want anything worse to happen after my daughter.”

“Why?”

“You're drunk Ren.”

“No. It's even been two weeks I haven't touched that red liquid.”

“If you don't, then why are you asking something you haven't asked before? Ah you are so funny.” Aren won't admit what he did. Basic lier! No matter what I'm with him if it's true he's drunk. I ruffled his coarse hair that rolled like noodles, but he did not budge. Steady looking at the yellow lights emanating from the street lights.

“Jawab my question Che.”

“Oh alright.” I said that I was getting sensitive that Aren was being serious. “Whatever I'll do for my daughter. Tiredness and occasional pain is a natural thing is not?”

“Are you going to work as a washerman there forever?”

“If this is indeed part of my destiny. How else?”

“You like the job?”

“Ya.”

“You may like it, but not with me. I really can't bear to see you exhausted Che."

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The deg!

...***...

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