OWNER OF HEART

The Eps 21

Her return was welcomed by neighbors. They come thronging. Carrying packages. Starting from cake, to food. There are also those who bring grass to the goats of the late father, who was in the cage behind the house.

However, the scene that made my defense collapse was when mother hugged a shirt belonging to the late father.

“I'm sorry mom, Dad. I promise you, I will always be faithful to you. I will always miss you. And will always be our daughter well,” said the mother. Put the clothes of the deceased father inside

her chest. His tears are pouring.

I'd love to hug her. But if I do that, I will not stop crying. So, I sneaked into the kitchen.

The next day, and the next. There are still neighbors coming to the house. Praying, encouraging. Bringing grass. Sometimes they just report the condition of the mother, some accompany the mother so as not to

too drowned in the valley of sorrow.

Days have changed, almost three weeks at home. I started organizing activities. Wake up in the morning. Early morning writing schedule has not changed. Clean-up, cooking, washing and alternating serve the needs of the mother. The problem of goat-grass, I chose to buy it to the neighbors. Because I can't find grass.

****

Fifteen days passed.

Mom started creeping slowly into the bathroom with the handle of the wall.

****

“Whose song is it?”

I was cooking, and playing Traveler's recording songs when Daffa looked up from the kitchen window.

“Kaya is not the original singer.”

“Indeed not,” answered me. While putting the pieces of cassava into the pot. I want to eat cassava compote. So, I asked Daffa for help to take cassava in the garden.

“She's a singer too?”

“Who do you mean?”askaku.this time while blackmailing santa.

Daffa laughs. “Should I be clear, yes?”

I laugh.

“Not just this once, I passed you muter those songs. You used to love radio.” Daffa.

“Halah, that's all discussed. The season changed. Things muter songs or radio can change, right?” I put a leaf of pandan I had tied into the pot, then closed it again.

“What's the name try? There are original singer-songs, but you sing one person and become a playlist?”

“So you name what.”

Daffa laughs.

“Where is Rashid, have you contacted yet?”

My outstretched hand was about to take the jar apart in the air. “Kok so talk Rashid?”

Daffa laughed again. “And he asked for your phone number. Who knows his mother misses you.”

I took a coconut sack and I threw it to Daffa. “You have a story debt, let's tell!”

Daffa answered nothing, he left. And soon a voice was heard in the guest room, talking to my mother. They talked about the plan of planting chilli seeds that should have been long ago

planted.

After returning home from the hospital, Daffa was busy in his garden. Once a few days to the city deliver the harvest to the middleman. Actually Daffa is tenacious and intelligent. Even though he's not a graduate. However, it could not be denied if the knowledge he had was arguably more than a scholar. Even because of its tenacity, Daffa can have everything at a young age.

So, what I heard from the kitchen, because dad's gone and mom's still sick. Daffa will work the fields. With a revenue sharing system. After the chili expires, then handed over to Daffa to be planted

whatt.

I brought two bowls of cassava, a living room. But Daffa had already returned home. I also help my mother find the right position before eating. Mom leaned against the high pillow. If you are tired, just fall asleep

on a flat bed. Still going around in circles if you make a quick move. So, everything is slow. My cut was only a few days away, mother was still in a condition I could not leave behind. Calau, of course enveloped my mind. How can I leave my mother alone? Do I have to ask Daffa's mother for help to look after him? Because if I ask Bu Lek for help, it seems impossible. Because Bu Lek lives in Jogja, not to mention he has a small child who is still in elementary school.

After mom finished eating cassava compote. I took a bushel, filled it with compote and drove it to Daffa's house. This is the custom of my mother and Daffa's mother. Food since we were kids. So, I just keep going

their habits this.

Our homes are turned on each other. Separated by fields and rice fields. I went through a path that connected to a wide gripper. Crossed the haystack and wheelbarrow, then arrived at the backyard of the house

Daffa.

“You know how tho, Daff!” that's Daffa's mother's voice.

“Do you not feel sorry for the same, Mheta?”

My steps stopped instantly, when I heard my name called.

“Mother just can't imagine, how Mheta would be if you stayed.”

Where else would Daffa go?

“Mother, I can explain everything,” the voice of Daffa.

“Mheta is less what? You may choose another girl.”

Another girl?

“Bu..”.

“Mother and Father never taught you to hurt women. From childhood, we taught you to respect women. To take care of them. Whoever it is, could it be you?”

What happened to Daffa? From her tone, Daffa's mother sounded emotional.

“Now how to? Should you tell me if your father is with Nadia's parents?”

“Nadia? Nadia's? Nadia who?” gertutuku.

“Mother, sorry. I'll talk to them later.”

“Terus Mheta, how?”

“Mheta is okay. He's got someone who can make him happy.”

“Okay, you guys are giman tho? Mother doesn't understand. Who's Mheta got?”

“Mother, all this time we've been what people want us to be. Good fella. Never had a fight. I always give up. I never even said no to Mheta. Even though I wanted to say no.

Because I obey mom so as not to make her sad.”

I shut my mouth, hearing Daffa's confession. “So all this time he, just.. Oh my God.”.

From childhood, Daffa, who was two years and five months older than me, was very patient with me. Steadfastly, waiting for my path that is still limped even though he is already good at running. In childhood, Daffa was also willing

All the circumstances in my childhood, if my mother had mentioned Daffa's name, all would have been well. That's how we grew up together. Me and him, like brother and sister, are different families. Where there is me, there must be Daffa.

“But, now we're adults, Mom. Distance gives many lessons. We misunderstood him just because I didn't understand his way of thinking. Go, meet new people, make me understand the options, Mheta.”

“Yes Allah, my son lanang. What are you saying, Daffa?”

“Sorry, Mom. If Mheta likes someone else. As long as the person is good, we should support him. We have to let him be happy. Although from our childhood together, does not mean we have to get married ‘kan? Don't force him.”

My throat is like a coconut coir. My eyes blurred, some floating from both sides of my eyes.

“Duh Gusti..”

“Me and Nadia have not had a deal for anything, we just got acquainted. She is a student in a city in Korea, Bu.”

Nadia's? So right, Daffa wants to tell you all? Still in custody? He always dodges every time I collect stories about Korea.

“Mom doesn't understand your way of thinking. But I don't want you hurting people's children. Whoever it is. Mheta or the Nadia-Nadia. Do not let any of them hurt you. Father alike Mother never ngararin so.”

“Nggih, Mom. Thanks.”

“That's why from the first, I asked you to talk well with Mheta. How are you going ahead of him. Uh. even quarreled. And you yes, instead of apologizing to Mheta, but instead ran to Korea.”

Oh myGod.

“But there is a silver lining, Mom. I understand it better.”

I pegged a long time behind Daffa's house. Even after they were not heard talking anymore.

“So, her name is Nadia?”

“So that's what Daaffa said was a valuable lesson he met in Korea? Nadia?”

I inhaled a lot of air, then stepped back into the front yard. Daffa is outside. Smoothing out the bamboo pieces for a stretch.

“Aibi, where?” I'm talking as normally as possible.

“Go just now.”

“Collect, nih!”

“Put it in the kitchen.”

I'm used to going in and out of this house from childhood. Although I rarely come here. After putting the rantang, I returned to the terrace and sat down on the wooden chair.

“So, her name is Nadia?” I didn't expect the sentence to slide smoothly from my lips.

Instantly Daffa stopped his hand movements, he put down a scythe and turned to me. “You nguping?”

“Not accidentally heard.”

Daffa seemed to be breathing.

“Where is the story?”

“As you heard.” He again picked up the bamboo cut and smoothed out the sharp edges.

“You... liked it?” I doubt I asked that, but I want to know.

Daffa put his scythe back. She looked at me, “you think?”

Oh my God, it might be true, Daffa likes Nadia. I don't know if this is the answer I want to hear or vice versa.

“—ya. That's your right.” I smile.

Daffa nodded. Lifting the sickle and combing the rough bamboo segments.

“Daffa,” I said. “So far you have never mentioned a single female name. This one is definitely special.”

Yes, Daffa has never told a story about his female friends. I've never heard of it, except for Nadia.

“You heard what we were talking about, just now?” ask Daffa.

“So right, what have you been doing to me all this time, is Bibi's demands?” I asked back.

“Mheta, I just wanted to tell mom that you have the right to do anything in your life. Right to choose and decide who will live your life how and with whom.”

I didn't answer.

“One village knows, how we are small. How we grow together. How is our family.”

Yes, what Daffa said was true. Sometimes even when lebaran, or someone is married, people always joke when it is our turn. Even though Daffa and I never talked about it. Namuan, it turns out secretly,

as I heard earlier, even Daffa's mother hoped that.

“But...” Daffa continued his sentence, “if indeed we do not have a future, we can still side by side as friends, friends, neighbors, childhood friends.

Hearing all of that, I was about to rediscover the lost Daffa. This conversation is very much different from the debate on my porch the other day. I felt something floating in my eyes.

What is this girl named Nadia? As nice as what? Did Daffa really fall for her? In the first sight? Will they be happy? Is Daffa going to go from here to Korea again, and see the girl?

“Tell about, Nadia.”

“I'm not good at stories like you.”

“Where was your first meeting? Do you like it or what? Yeah, that kind of story. How?”

“No need to discuss.”

“Ngot fair. Cheating!”

“I just don't want to discuss,” Daffa stood up, sheathed a scythe in his place. Then bend over collecting the rewarded pieces.

“So, Nadia which person? What are you going to talk to Nadia's father? Will propose to him?” I honestly am still curious..

“Have it, go home there. Later search aunty.”

“You always do, the story is not finished ngusir.”

“I want to install a reward, in your field.”

Daffa just left, crossed the courtyard, turned into a wide rod and headed for my lad, which was planted with long beans. “Mheta..” Daffa shouts.

I turned to stop the steps that I had swung a few times, “apa!”

“Rasyid is good for you..”

Why is he talking about Rashid again? I had forgotten how the face of that tall young man was.

I walked home, with thoughts still of Nadia filling my head.