Sense of Sense

Rose Flower

As Sapphira came out of the house, some complex mothers greeted her like a choir. He was at a loss to respond and could only reply with a faint smile. Apparently the blazing morning sun did not dampen their enthusiasm to gather to exchange stories or gossip while choosing vegetables in a subscription that used to go around the complex.

As soon as the big black bag landed in the big trash can, Safira thought of joining the mothers. Not to join the gossip, but buy some kitchen spices that are almost exhausted. Although it was unlikely that he would be allowed to choose quietly without being asked this question, especially regarding Harsha.

Then when Sapphira turned around, she accidentally met Hendra's eyes. While developing smile tips, Safira greets, “Pagi, Pak.”

“Morning too, Mbak Fira.”

“Tumben new nyiram plant, sir?” asked Safira, stepping over. Chatting with Hendra is actually more fun than being with mothers whose discussion is just that. “What's bad luck?”

Hendra's light laughter greeted Safira as the woman stood behind a wooden fence about the waist of an adult. “Yes, Sister Fira. New spacet,” said Hendra. His smile was as bright as the color of a rose that was being watered. “Kok, Sister Fira dumped her own trash? Usually Mbak Jum.”

“Mbak Friday today permission, his son is sick again so I told him to go home.”

“Oalah, hopefully his son will recover quickly. Pantes was in a hurry, I think I want to shop at the stall. Want me to ask but the hunt goes far.”

Sapphira never knew if this neighbor was sensitive enough to the surroundings. Even against Mbak Jum who has only two months of work with him.

“Plant Pak Handra seems to be more and more, yes?” Sapphira touches the leaves on the stem of the rose tree.

Roses are her mother's favorite flowers. Safira recalls how she was so painstaking in caring for spiny plants that grew healthy in the yard. Under the mango tree, her mother arranged many of these plants and once the time bloomed then the yard was like a garden in fairy tale books that her mother always read.

“Create Fira.”

Sapphira raised her face, a rose was in front of her. Then he looked at the rose and Hendra took turns. “Why did you cut? ‘Kan, darling.”

“Nothing, Ma'am.” Hendra shook his hands in front of his face with a smile. “It looks like Mbak Fira is attracted to red roses.”

Sapphira's hands were outstretched, receiving a strand of roses and looking at her longingly. “Home of my mother used to love taking care of roses. Hence see Mr so painstakingly taking care of the garden, I inget him.”

Safira does not remember much of her childhood memories. One-two felt vague and overlapping whenever he tried to remember. However, because that's what makes the memories that are still attached to his memory so it feels more valuable. Memory of the habits of his late mother or the activities that his family used to do. Although it can not be repeated, but at least still stored well.

“People who can take good care of roses are usually meticulous and gentle people,” said Hendra lirih. “Mbak Fira want me to give you one?”

Safira. “Bby, Sir. I do not refuse,” he said, unconsciously widening a smile.

Some ornamental plants neatly arranged in a yard that is not so broad. Large-small flower pots are lined up according to the size and type of woven planted. If you look around, it feels like the yard of Hendra's house looks familiar.

“What's up, Ma'am?”

Safira gasped, a little surprised to find Hendra already in front of him. “Nothing, Sir.”

“This, Mbak Fira.” Hendra thrust a medium-sized pot with a flower plant that is still in the shape of a bud. “Rose flowers, but not yet in bloom.”

“There's a special way to make it, sir?” tanya Safira, received the pot of Hendra's gift.

Vigorously, Hendra explained the details of how to care for roses. The middle-aged man even explained from the seedling treatment process to how to care for the rose weaving after blooming. Then their chatter grew, flowing like two close friends. Until suddenly Hendra began to appear unfocused on what they were talking about.

“Alvin actually asked to keep a cat, but Zain objected.”

“Oh, gitu.” Hendra glanced here and there. “Let Alvin if you want to play here, Mbak.”

Safira's forehead is wrinkled. “Fear of nicotine, Sir.”

“No, Ma'am.” Hendra laughed, a little discordant. “Sorry, Ma'am. I went inside first to feed Milo,” pamit Hendra, passed into the house without hearing the sahutan Safira.

Safira feels strange with Hendra's sudden attitude, but things like this are nothing new to him. Hendra does often behave like that not once or twice.

“What do you do in front of people's house fence, Fi?”

The familiar voice drew Safira's attention and made her turn to the source of the voice. “Kak Rafa?”

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