OWNER OF HEART

Eps 18s

I smiled seeing the reply of the traveler. Of course I don't have to guess what that means. After all, on Facebook he also often really gives heart emoticons to people who comment on his status.

Since knowing her, indirectly, she has taught me many things. For example, when we discussed the book and he asked, “try to say what you remember from the novel, M?”

“I forgot.” At that time I forgot. “I only remember memorable things. Maxdunya, effective books.”

“If I am effective no?”

What kind of question is that? I couldn't have told him that the bottle of mizone was all I kept? He could laugh at me.

“What one day, you will forget me?” The traveler asked back.

“What kind of question is it?” I reply while pouting.

“Jawab only.”

I'm silent.

“Jawab.”

I'm still quiet.

“Jawab.”

I never even deleted our chat from the start. Hundreds of photos of his submissions and the songs he sings, I made a special playlist.

“Maybe... maybe I will remember you calling me weird and messy.”.

The wanderer laughed, then he retorted. “If I, maybe someday will try to find a way to forget you.”

“You mean, what?”

“Home.”

“What's my fault?”

“Handering, M.”

“Not funny.”

“Sorry.”

At that time, I didn't know why I was sad. That was the first time traveling made me sad. I always thought, What's my fault? So occasionally on the sidelines of our conversations, I often ask, “actually what the hell is my fault?”

“That's you, nothing not to be taken seriously. Don't be easy baper. I said sorry, uh you're a baper. I sing you baper.”

“Not baper anyway..”

“So from now on you don't have to wonder what's wrong with you anymore. Don't connect again.”

At that time I just replied, “ok.” But I silently digest the words of the Wander. Maybe I really am. But did you know that I don't act like that to everyone?

But yes, then, I started to understand myself. That kind of feeling is because…. Because I'm afraid of losing him. For me all this time Travelers are interlocutors sent by God. Talked

by making simple things into something valuable.

Only the traveler knows how to read the scattered leaves. How to understand birds alone. How to catch fluorescent lights, how to hear the roar of rain, and how to cut twilight. Talking so with others, sometimes I am considered unreasonable and excessive.

So, just imagining him disappearing, it was already painful. Even though I know there's Rosa. I know they're lovers. I realize that's true. But the feeling of not wanting to lose is not always the feeling of wanting to have, is it? Am I wrong?

I once called him, “hei good friend.”

But he instead asked, “since when did you call me a good friend?”

“Since I consider you a good friend.”

At that time the traveler laughed and asked again, “if I've never been, calling you a good friend?”

“Not yet, but I don't care.”

“One day for sure I did.”

“No need to force yourself times. I have no problem being called anything. After all, even though I consider you a good friend, not necessarily you consider me good too.”

“You're a freak, anyway. But one day he actually said, “you're a good friend,” just because in one thing we have the same opinion and taste.

So that's how back to the emoticons that the traveler sent earlier, I didn't reply to anything. And also not think anything. Does that mean the things that the traveler taught me were successful?

“Mbak?”

Reverie caved. I looked at the patient next door who called me.

“Ya, Mas?”

“Sorry before, I want to trouble. I need to take the medicine to the pharmacy. Could you please tell my mother later if you wake up and tell me?”

“Oh, yes can, Mas.”

“Thanks yes, Mbak.”

“Sama-sama.”

The patient next door was a mother older than my mother. Since coming there has been a lot of nagging. Starting from the prick of the infusion needle that hurts, to the pillow that is not the right position. At first, she came with her husband and son. Then her husband came home, and there lived his son.

I waited while reading the book. The pharmacy is on the lower floor, in the front area of the front of the hospital. Besides being far away every time there is always crowded and queuing.

“Rasyid! Rashid!”

The mother woke up, and I came closer.

“The money is going to the pharmacy, Bu.”

Rashid you mean?”

I nodded, “ya.”

“Ah where she didn't say she was leaving. Already know his own mother here.”

“So Mom is sleeping, “kataku. “What can I help you with, Mom?”

“I'm thirsty, want to drink.”

I immediately took the glass over the nightstand.

“Rasyid I don't want to tell you to bring a straw. If drinking can spill it tilted.”

I put the glass back, and helped her get up, so that her head was more upright. At that time, Daffa appeared and helped to drink.

“You husband and wife or sisters?”

“Neighbor, Bu?”

Daffa and I looked at each other. We answer simultaneously with the same words.

I restored the position of the mother lying down as before. Ask if the pillow is comfortable or not. He said it was comfortable. But he said his back was itching, suspecting that there were ants on his back. So I checked and made sure there were no ants.

“Rasyid is my son. His name was given by Mr. Kyai Gontor. Therefore, Rashid used to study in Gontor. But after graduating High School, he decided to enter the Military Academy. He's been in office six years. Unmarried. Almost married, but the candidate was invited to the house not to return. He said he did not want to stay at the office. He wants to stay at his parents' house. Girls today yes, have not yet arranged. What kind of daughter-in-law would that be. But thank goodness Rashid did not become the same, did not become married.”

I smile.

“Mbaknya Rashid just stay at home service with her husband. He did not protest. Even though I live in the office also not forever.”

I still smile, sitting next to his bed.

“Rasyid it's a concern if it's the same me. More attentive than his father. Better understand me. When I got sick, he went straight home. Though he's not here. He's on duty

in Jakarta. He is his son patient, not rich mbakyunya who likes to sulk and nyinyir if advised by his mother. But thankfully, after marriage, you can change. If not changed, I would be ashamed to be the same as me tha.”

I just listen and nod.

“Rasyid good boy, I hope he gets a good wife too.”

The woman in front of me coughed.

“Lha you are working what school?”

“Work, Bu.”

“Mmm.. I am doctor.”

“Doctor? Rich in Rashid, Rasyid's doctor of anesthesia. But now his service is in Jogja. Follow her husband there. Where are you in service?”

“I.. service in Malang city, Bu.”

“Away huh? You're a real lame?”

“No, Mom. I am a real person here. In Malang I wander.”

“Lha is so far away. Why not work in a hospital around Magelang city alone?”

“Perhaps because I am also in Malang.”

“Oh.. yes.”

Mother kept telling me about Rashid. Until his son came.

“Wah sorry ya Ma'am. So troublesome.”

“This is Rashid my son, “ucapnya. “They howled Mom earlier. They are neighbors. Not husband wife.”

“Mother...” Rashid touches the back of his mother's hand. “Mbak, Mas.” Said Rashid nodding to me and to Daffa. “thank you for helping. Sorry to trouble.”

I stood up and went back to my mother's bed. While Rashid and his mother are still talking about bitter medicine, and ants suspected of coming because food was scattered.

“I go home first yes.” Daffa.

“Still, yes.”

Daffa nodded and then said goodbye to mother.

Shortly after Daffa left, magrib arrived. For I cannot leave my mother to the Messiah. So I thought about asking Rashid for permission not to go into the room first. The space left of this room

it's right facing the door.

But it was Rashid who called me first.

“Mbak, how about we pray it over. Let someone take care in this room?”

“Oh, so? Yes, can, can.”

So, thats. Me and Rashid took turns to mushalla. Because he gave me diliran first, after that I just helped mom.

“Bu,” said Rashid, but since the distance was very close and only a border with curtains, I could still hear it.

“Mother next door to pray, Bu.”

“Lha I piye, can't stand.”

“Can while sitting, Mom. Mother next door even while sleeping because it is not strong wake.”

“Lho my leg hurts, kok.”

“Yes, I don't have to stand, while sitting huh?”

“Ya wis ajar. Piye how?”

I smile. Mom too. Apparently, mom secretly listened.

****

At nine o'clock, the traveler sent a message. He has arrived in Tangerang, and is attending the opening event. He asked me if I wanted to see the live or video footage. And I just chose the video recording.

“Where is Mother?” ask again.

“Still not strong wake up.”

“Salam yes. Hopefully healthy soon.”

Then the traveler sent some photos around the event. Almost eleven o'clock when Pengelana sent a video of a poetry musicalist. I showed my mom that it was part of the show. And I responded enthusiastically.

While we were watching, we heard a knock on the door. Not the nurse showed up. But Daffa.

“What's missing?” my many.

“Neither.”

“Terus?”

“Ask Mother.”

“Nginap here?”

“Ya.”

shortly after Daffa arrived, his mother called my mother's cell phone.

“Mheta? Daffa has arrived?”

“Already Bik.” I turned to Daffa and signaled that her mother was calling.

“Lha yes, she said she had come home because the next bed was a resident. Then back again. He said the patient next door is the only one who takes care of the man. Not good for you he said.” I'm holding back the laughter.

“Ooh... said she told Aunt?” I turned to Daffa who was fiddling with his phone.

“Kuomeli only. Aunty sent him back from Korea, indeed let someone accompany you in the hospital.”

I thank Daffa's mother. Although I actually feel bad. If in fact Daffa still wants to be in Korea.

We don't talk much. I don't know where our old familiarity went. Daffa often talked to Rashid.

So, tonight we five. After the previous nights I was alone with my mother. I slept while

sit. With her head leaning beside her mother. Rashid sleeps on the floor near his mother's bed. And Daffa on the side table chair.

****

At three in the morning I woke up. Turn on the laptop slowly. There are weekly articles I have to send.

When opening the phone to activate the hotspot, there is one message from the Traveler.

He sent me a picture of the moon.

“What month is saturn?? Ask while giving emoticons laugh.

“Wah there is her outer circle.”

“Try to see, there is a circle is also not?”

I sat up, opened the window, but outside the drizzle. So, you reply to him the sky is cloudy.

I looked at that photo. Then I remembered Bruno.

“Nyanyiin Talking to the moon, dong.” I said.

“Nhave not memorized.” Answer with a laugh emoticon.

“Thus singin!” I joke by giving exclamation marks. Then I off and finished the article.

An hour later when I checked my phone, one message was deleted. I didn't ask him to write

whatt. He was not asked if he would answer. The guest also sent a song.

I put on a headset. Play that song. I thought it was Bruno's song. Apparently not. He sent Please Don’t Go,

barcelona's.

The traveler said, I can't relate to that song or anything, right?

So, I just listen while typing. In the future, this song I will often play to accompany me

other than Dealova.