Reaping

Erik [3] - Stranger

"Amin..," the simultaneous utterances that are thrown out.

from the mouths of my father, Rosie, and my twins shortly after I finished

leading prayers at the grave of the late mother.

We all got carried away at this funeral.

It was as if each other remembered different memories

been with my mother during her life. Same with what I am now

feel it.

Since childhood I have never known what I was like

the figure of my real mother. All I know is that all my childhood memories were filled with

mother Wanda's face. Though in reality she was only my stepmother, but I

I consider her my own mother. The thing I believe is

sometimes a bond between mother and child does not have to have a bond

blood between the two.

All the memories with the mother in the past nausea

my head. Without feeling the warm water falling from both balls

my eye. Perhaps it is influenced by the longing for the figure of the mother who has been

took care of me since childhood.

"Dad, crying?" ask the beautiful one that just

she planted flowers on her grandmother's grave.

Hearing the question from Indah immediately made me

wash away tears as quickly as possible. I don't want to look sad at

in front of my twins.

"Dad, don't cry" I said directly

changing the face from sad to cheerful.

Beautiful and Nice simultaneously looking towards my face,

like they wanted to see my face for longer. Knowing that makes

Rosie who was sitting near the mother's tombstone, he immediately set his gaze to

my direction while smiling. Slowly his hand clasped my fingers.

"We better get ready to get back in the car. We

kan want to continue the journey to the nursing home," said Rosie directly

trying to distract our twins.

"Yes, right," said I who immediately stood up and

walk towards the chair that my father is sitting on. "Come, we're rushing to

car."

I slowly moved my legs while pushing the wheelchair

towards the TPU gate. Not waiting for a long time Rosie, Beautiful, and Nice rushed over

stand up and walk behind me.

***

Since the arrival of Om Rama who inhabited one of the rooms

kosan belongs to my father. I saw the strangeness in him. He was the one before

hitchhiking with Burhan's grandfather on the filthy, filthy banks of the river.

It turns out that when he moved to my father's boarding house, he took Grandpa Burhan with him

to stay with him.

"Om Rama is weird, Mom," I said on the day

first Om Rama lived in kosan.

"What's so weird?" ask mother.

"He's been hitching a ride with Burhan's grandfather.

When he now lives in our boarding house, he even invited the old man

to live with him. Mom, I'm gonna ask you a question. What if there is someone

well, we should also do the same good as what everyone else does

do it to us?"

At that moment I was amazed when I saw my mother

I smiled after listening to the question I just asked

earlier.

"According to mother there is no strangeness from Om Rama. What

performed by Om Rama it is not strange. When someone gets help from

someone else, we automatically owe that person a debt of gratitude. So, already

we should repay all the kindness of that person. Just like the mother

it was helped by Burhan's grandfather when he suffered a miscarriage of your future sister.

Mother until now always felt indebted to that person."

"But it's mom. Dad always said that he had

giving money to Burhan's grandfather which means his kindness has been bought.

So I have absolutely no debt of gratitude to Burhan's grandfather."

"Every good that has ever been done, one day

unexpectedly, the good will come back to us. Everyone will be

reaping what he's ever planted."

"What is return? Is it reaping? I didn't

understand."

"Erik, you're still very small. Maybe later when you

grown up, you'll know the meaning of the words you just said."

At that moment I tried to understand what my mother said, but

it's hard to understand the meaning of all the things you said earlier.

Mother rubbed my hair and said, "This you

yes, Erik. Listening and following your father's bad habits. So pattern

he thought he was always prejudiced against others."

I was at that moment confused as to what was wrong with my father's attitude

all this time. Not that every father must have the same attitude as

my papa. While at home always screaming berating his wife or child.

"Dad wasn't doing good to Burhan's grandfather

by giving money while helping mother first."

"Of course it's a good thing, but your father thinks

with the money can buy the kindness of Burhan's grandfather. We better be done

this talk, mom wants to go to the kitchen to prepare for dinner

later."

***

Once on Sunday morning I was invited by my mother to

accompanied him to the market. It was my favorite school holiday to go to

market because I like being in the crowd. Mom and I always ride in bajaj

to go to that market. There's something I like the most there. A lot

there are small pools made of white plastic. The pool contains

there are many fish that are still alive. Starting from goldfish, mujair fish, catfish.

Most of these fish are freshwater fish. While sea water fish

it was dead and lined up in some carts belonging to the sellers. I didn't

I like saltwater fish.

At that time I still thought the sea water fish were already

dead, if I eat fish it's the same as me eating fish carcasses.

So I prefer to take mom to go to a freshwater fish stall

who is still alive.

I usually choose my own fish that my mother will cook when she comes home. That fish

it's a gold fish. The reason I love eating gold is because I prefer it

with fish that have color on their scales. I don't like fish

because it was black as if it was filled with mud. The fish I like the most

it's a catfish. Father once told me that catfish are the sloveniest fish

because they often eat human waste.

After my mom and I bought some kitchen and fish

gold, slowly I walked down the rice vendor's stall. Without my guess

it turned out that at the stall, I saw that there was someone who was no stranger to me

carrying a sack of rice. His body seemed to be struggling

carrying a sack of rice. The sack he was carrying was bigger

rather than the body of that man. The rice sack's pelvis is Om Rama.

"Mother, that's not Om Rama" I said as we

standing in front of the rice stall.

Mother slowly looked at the person who was carrying the sack

the rice while nodding its head. "Pity yes, that person should

working hard to become a rice bag pelvis when his body is not balanced

with the burden he must carry."

"Mother, why do we feel sorry for that person. He is

it's nobody we are" said I who was upset to see mother put

sympathy for strangers hitchhiking living with Burhan's grandfather.

"You don't talk like that. Later if the person

listen he could be offended."

Om Rama finished putting the sack of rice into the stall

and slowly he walked back to the truck containing dozens of rice boxes

othersmore.

"Let that person hear. And the poor anyway

like him his work must not be far from working as a coolie."

"Hush, you're Erik. Your words are very no

courteous."

Om Rama stopped his footsteps while staring

towards me and Mom. I'm pretty sure that guy must have heard what's new

I'm just saying. From the look of his face, there were a lot of sweat

torrential. The look in his eyes implied that he was so petty, I

sure he must have shouldered more than one rice box.

"Rama, it turns out you work here. You finally got it

work too" said the mother, who spoke to the stranger.

"Yes, I finally got a job as a coolie

pelvis sack of rice."

"I'm glad to know this news. Anything

his work is important. Being a rice porters is also a job

noble."

I actually don't like being friendly to people

that foreign. So I decided to take her home, so that

mother did not linger chatting with Om Rama.

"Mom, we better go home now. I don't want to

the fish we bought died. I don't want you cooking ready-made fish

carrion," I said, whining about mother's clothes.

At that moment all I thought about was how

so that my mother and I do not linger near the stranger.

I don't know why I'm surprised by fate. I'm the one who didn't

too fond of Om Rama and do not want to linger close to him.

But reality says otherwise, unexpectedly Om Rama together

Burhan's grandfather moved into one of my father's boarding houses. It means every

I will always see that stranger.

***