OWNER OF HEART

Eps 22's

“Mheta, no sms nyari you.”

I just got to when mom showed me one message on her phone.

“Who, Mom?”

“Lha don't know, this.”

The phone was still in my hands and moved to me. Foreign number.

“Assalamualaikum.”

“Sorry, is this really Ms Ayu's number? I'm Rashid.”

Oh, my God, I didn't think that guy actually dialed the number I gave him. Well, what should I reply to the message?

“Who?” ask Mother.

I told him that the one who sent the message was Rashid. Child of patient next door mother time in hospital time. I also told my mother, if in fact the one who asked for the number was her mother

not son. And because I was confused at that time, I finally gave her my mother's number.

“Realled wrong connect, Bu?”

“Lha reply only, ‘iya’ gitu.” Said mother.

“Kok yes? Is this your mother's number? So say I'm wrong connect.”

“But, you will be considered a liar and play people for giving the wrong number, anyways the young man seems good. He was also polite time in the hospital,” said the mother.

“Maybe his mother misses you,” continued mother, I welcome with a wry laugh.

“Ya wis, reply as is. Tell me this is mom's number.”

I weighed in for a moment to clear Rashid's message. Thinking of the right words.

“Waalaikumussalam. Sorry this isn't a number, Ayu. But his mother's number.”

I read the words I wrote. I wish I had an answer like that. I read it again before I finally sent it.

Five minutes later, Rashid replied.

“Please sorry ma'am. Thanks.”

I smiled reading the reply. Imagine that the one who sent the sms was his mother. Maybe, he then said misconnect. And maybe her mother will accuse me of giving her a fake number. I put back my phone while laughing at myself imagining the mother nagging.

“Mheta.” Mother's call paved my way to the kitchen.

I sat in front of my mother. Beliu asked me what my next plan was. Of course I replied that I would be at home to take care of her. Find a job here and do what I can. Mom apologized for all this. I said there was nothing wrong.

“Pak Camat's offer to become a doctor at puskesmas is still valid, he said. He was here this morning when you came out.”

I thought about that sentence. “Iya, Mom. That's an easy matter. The most important thing right now is the health of the mother. Three more days I'm going to Malang. I'll finish it first, and immediately resign from the hospital. After that, Mheta thought about it all. For now the most important thing for Mheta is the health of Mom.”

“Yes already, if so, take all your stuff in Malang. Mumpung tomorrow PakLek and BuLek you are here, so all of you will say the same to them, I told you to stay here a few days ahead.”

I call it as, shoots loved ulam also arrived.

From yesterday, I imagined my things. Thinking about how to bring it home. I never thought of it this way, but this is life. Sometimes there are things we don't expect.

In the past, I insisted on Daffa, not wanting to rush back to Magelang. Now, maybe even he will leave this village. to where Nadia is? I don't know.

“Mheta..” shouted mom from family room.

“Iya, Ma?”

“This Rashid sms again.”

“Mother just reply, it's up to mom to reply. Mheta is busy cleaning the back of the house.” Excited from next to the goat cage.

I put a pile of straw from the burnt goat. Then look to the new fields of rice fields in the harvest. Drizzle incarnated profusely. Water falls and drooping cause amazing rhythm. I immediately ran into the house.

I loved the rain, knowing that it was a good time to pray. I immediately raised my hand, praying for the recovery of my mother and late father. I rubbed my face. When I look back at the rain, I remember one thing.

Then I went back to praying. For the happiness of Daffa, and for the happiness of the Traveler.

In the past, I thought the rain of figures that come to memory only existed in fictional stories. However, sejuan Pengelana, somehow the rain often reminds me of him. I don't know how memories can be

that so?

Did he remember me just once?

****

“Mheta..”.

I stopped the step.

“Mheta,” I recognize that voice.

“Mheta...” didn't he never call me that name?

I looked, turned around.

“Hai, M.”

“Play? How did you get here?”

“I want to sail.”

“Oh yes, where is your boat?”

“There.”

“Self?”

“No.”

“Be careful, do not let the waves enter your boat.”

The traveler smiled.

Then…

I sat down for a moment. Kuraba my wet cheek. I sobbed. I felt my shoulders shake. I'm not on the beach. I just had a dream. Dreams of meeting a Traveler. All this time I never once

dreamed it. And why am I crying? How strange.

I look back on that dream. Mobile phone at the table. One o'clock in the morning. I opened Whatsapp. Online traveller. And I remember the dream that just happened. I touched the screen, realizing it was

I weighed for a moment, then put the phone down without sending any messages. I immediately left the room, headed for pancura. Wash face, hands, feet. Enjoy every water splash.

There are feelings that we cannot stop. Worries, like. Or the feelings I refuse to call. But, with clear thoughts, we can do other actions. Praying, like.

The next morning, when I went back to check my phone, I found a photo of the beach on the Traveler account. Sekoyong-koyong, I remember my dream. This is weird, isn't it? Imagine, you dream about the beach and someone who

appear in your dreams, put up a photo of the beach. It's like fiction, but it's real.

Because I have a lot of things to do before morning. So, I put my phone back. And disallowed picking comments. I cook food that I can for the whole day. Preparing for needs in the kitchen.

Checking ingredients. Disinfecting dirty equipment. Installing bed linen and clean bolster pillowcases for PakLek and BuLek.

Everything is neat and ready. I turned to the screaming washing machine, marking he was done. When I brought the laundry in the back yard of Daffa, it looked like it was meysusri.

“Hei, Daffa.”

The man looked.

Since the conversation at his house, we have not discussed Nadia anymore. Daffa was busy with the business of the garden and its crops.

“Tomorrow I will go to Malang. Don't go to Korea first before I go home,” I said.

Daffa jumps over a small gutter that separates the backyard with garden roosters.

“Until when?” tanyanya, sounds relaxed.

“Weekly, Insya Allah. I have to finish my business.”

“What's wrong?”

“Train.”

Daffa silence.

“Why see me that? Regularly take the train?”

“Ya is regular.” Daffa chuckles.

“Continue, what's weird?”

“If you need help do not need prestige.” Her speech.

“Help? What favor? Hey?”

“Help ta’aruf equals Rashid.”

“Why do you always talk about him? I forgot his face. Wear says ta’aruf all.”

“Hei neighbor taste brother? You don't know, do you? If Rashid came to my house last night?”

“Halah, how could she know your home. Just know it. Don't lure me.”

“Seriously, Mhet. There really isn't me. I was at Lurah's house last night. My father went to see him, he said he found out about you. Rashid doesn't know it's my home. But, uh,

pas Father story, if the one who asked about you his name is Rashid. I was so nervous, surely he was Rashid who was in the hospital at that time.” He said chuckle again.

“Lying? What's he looking for about me?”

“Where do I know, maybe he wants to pay for the wrap rice money you bought, maybe?”

I remember something, Rashid sent a message yesterday on my mother's phone. I immediately ran into the house.

“Kok blurred?” shout Daffa.

“Makasaku gosong!” my sergeant.

I immediately walked quite quickly to my mother's room, seeing that she was holding onto my late father's shirt, so I paused my intention to ask something.

“Nduk...Mheta.” mother called me, when I left her a few steps.

“Iya, Mum.”

“This is a minute.”

I also immediately stepped closer to mom, “what's the matter, Mom?”

“Do you not want to be married? Your age is qualified for household.”

I thought of the sentence you just said, “Married? Mheta hasn't thought about it. The most important thing at this time is the condition of mother.”

“If anyone wants you to be his wife. Do you want?”

“Who, Mom?”

“There, he's the right and kind person for you. I'm sure, if you marry her. Is Allah you will be happy.”

“Why is Mom sure? Mheta doesn't want to be married.”

“Mom only wants the best for you. But, I won't force you either. Think first, if you are ready, talk to mom.”

I kept thinking about that sentence, while I did not want to think about marriage, let alone marry whom? Mother didn't tell me who the young man wanted me to be his wife.

*****

I rode a motorbike up to the big street and parked at a daycare near the market. I stood on the shoulder of the road, waiting for the vehicle to go to the terminal. Smelling the scent of asphalt, observing people passing by, staring at the archway

the aging, the honking sound.

Things change as time passes. It doesn't feel the same when we look at different times. But memories will not change.

Mini bus yellow with the inscription ‘memory berisah’ stop in front of me. I'm soon naaik. This is one of the common angkuktan that connects Magelang-Jogjakarta. There is another big bus to Wonogiri passing by.

From the terminal, I connect the angkot department of Jogja station.  Take the train, change the vehicle. But I call this Ikigai. As Ken Mogi said, find

little things that mean.

****

It's ridiculous if I wish, the rain welcomes me at the station. I'm looking. The sky looks cloudy. But, it's not raining.

I walked warmly towards the waiting room. Lots of empty seats. And my gaze stopped on the chair I was in. I stepped there. I suddenly remembered last night's dream.

There's no rush today, no one's waiting to stop. I imemotret that bench. Then send on

Roamer.

“Hei. How are you doing? I'm here now?”