Sense of Sense

Same Kena

Ashqar awoke and found that the rain had not yet subsided. He looked to the side, where Safira should have been lying, but it was empty. The room was still dim, on the mattress beside Alvin and Zain coiled comfortably in the blanket. However, other than Safira, Harsha was also not in the portable box they used to carry while traveling.

Ashqar pulled up the blanket, stretched the stiff muscles of waking up in his sleep and dragged a step into the much brighter next room. He could confirm that his wife and youngest daughter were there.

Smiling a sleeping song welcoming Ashqar, Sapphira was cradling Harsha around the room.

“Mah,” call Ashqar down. He leaned against the wall between the bedroom and the living room.

“Mas is awake?” muttered Safira, checking the clock on his phone. “It's still four, loh.”

Still another half an hour before Ashqar's usual morning wake-up hours. Her husband is the type of person who will wake up in the same jam almost every day despite sleeping very late or early in the morning though.

Ashqar approached, stroking Harsha's cheeks that were getting more and more gembil¹. “Yang yesterday . . . still angry?” ask Ashqar carefully.

Safira stared at Ashqar's waking face long enough, then sat down on a nearby sofa. Safira's sighing and sighing disturbed Ashqar's composure, making him anxious.

From yesterday afternoon until bedtime, if it wasn't important, Safira wouldn't have spoken to him. His wife kept quiet and even treated Ashqar several times like air. There is, but invisible.

“I'm sorry if I had excessive and threatened Mas will not love me,” great-grandson Safira, put attention on the face of sleep Harsha.

“Nothing, Mah. I'm also sorry for making you worry.” Ashqar grabbed Safira's chin, looking her eyes deep. “So you're not angry?”

Sapphira noticed Ashqar who was now taking a seat beside her. “Ngak, anyway. But I'm still quite late,” he said, walking towards the bedroom.

“Where, Mah?” ask Ashqar in a hurry.

“Moving Harsha.”

Ashqar smelled a smile. Relief approached him like the cool and cold morning air flushed with rain, Ashqar did not even hesitate to widen his smile. Sapphira's annoyance was much easier to deal with than the woman's anger.

His wife would silence Ashqar for three whole days, sometimes not really inviting him to talk even if all the needs were met. It was far more torturous than Sapphira not giving rations. Even if you are not given Ashqar can also have a headache.

“The existence is just coffee, is it okay?”

Ashqar turned his head, Safira walked towards him with a cup of coffee in hand.

“You give me tap water I must drink, kok.”

Safira. “Yes time, I love my own husband water faucet,” dumel Safira, hand the cup to Ashqar and sit beside him.

“Yes, because if Mas is sick I also bother. Mas if it hurts, ‘kan, already like Zain. Manja.”

Hearing Safira's explanation, Ashqar coughed and spouted coffee until it littered the table. “Yang, so mean, hell,” whine Ashqar, throw a kitten's gaze at Safira.

Safira shuddered amusedly. “Mas age conscious, status conscious. Shame on children if they know their behavior is not much different.”

“Mouth, mouth.” Ashqar pinched Safira's cheeks in anxiety. “Then again do not mood gini like tajem words.”

“I'm still like you, Mas.”

“Iya, yes. I'm sorry, Darling.”

Ashqar reached out behind Safira's back, trying to embrace his wife's shoulder. However, Safira quickly avoided.

“I'm sorry, but my sense of sprain has not gone away.” Safira. “Mas knows, ‘kan, I would panic if the children to why. I sprained myself because I do not know to be angry with Mas who is not clear to tell the info to Mbak Rahma, or must be angry to Mbak Rahma who is wrong with Denger.”

Ashqar grimaced at Safira's scolding. The misunderstanding yesterday was indeed his fault which only asked Rahma to convey to Safira to go to the room immediately because Zain was cold after entering the pool. Rahma captures Ashqar's negative panicking and makes her think that Zain is drowning.

“I'm wrong, Honey. But actually Mbak Rahma is more wrong, because Mbak Rahma who makes you misunderstand.”

That was Ashqar's best intentions. He did not want to be the only one to blame for yesterday's incident, not to mention that he had been sprayed by his brother-in-law and mother, as well as his long lectures.

“Iya also. Come to think of Mbak Rahma is also wrong.”

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Diction Corner :

¹Gembil : tembam (cheek) a Java