THE MENTARY FOR THE ESTUARY
CHAPTER 4, MOTHER'S SECRETS AND ABOUT RIANA
THE - STILL POV NICO
- STILL FLASHBACK
A year after High School graduation. In that one 365 days I felt a completely empty life, without Riana. I have now moved to Jakarta. Djakarta... It was the name of the destination city Riana, as she said where to go. Then, in the capital city of Indonesia, I can find the girl. Not for nothing, I just want to ask for the key of my heart that is still held by him, I want someone to be able to open it besides him. It hurts too much for me to hope to be alone this way; it hurts too much to love someone who wasn't meant for us. Even if there was another form of love, I think my logic is still very difficult to accept. So, if I have to meet Riana now, I just want to ask her for the key to my heart.
My mom and dad went back to America after I finished high school. They invited me there, and they continued college. But I don't want to. I'm already at home here in Indonesia. Although I was not born in this country, I still love him, because some of my blood is from here, from a country with a rich garuda symbol.
“Come home,” persuaded my mother while enjoying dinner that time. By the way, he himself finally wanted to invite me to speak Bahasa Indonesia, after three years our family lived here. You know what the reason is? That's because I went on strike to speak to him for a week, just because he was still asking me to speak English, not the native language of this country. My mother was the most negligible person, what else by myself who was the only child. Every way he's tried, from buying me a new acoustic guitar (you remember, I love art, anything, including music), to delivering me hot chocolate milk every night, which I only received in silent mode. But there was one night where I was kind of looking forward to all that routine; mom knocked on the door (and then opened it herself), put a tray full of milk glasses on the table – sometimes plus a little snack, sometimes, whether cheesecake, not wheat biscuits - rubbed my hair, then went out again, certainly still without a word from me. Honestly, I ignored all the questions, but not with chocolate milk and snacks, because it was really delicious, became an encouragement when I started learning.
One night, I peeked anxiously from behind the door. The clock has ticked nearly ten times, and the weather is raining. But why hasn't mom come with her usual luggage yet? Did you not come home from work? But I think it was, when I asked the housekeeper who was preparing the food tray, who did it for.
“This is for lady Aline, young master. He said he was not feeling well today.” I just rounded my lips, then continued the dinner without any worry at all. But is mom sick? Don't be so sick that you can't come here and see me.
Ti-No... I started to get attacked with worry. Mother why?
***
I walked alone in the hallway, intending to go to Mom's room. I felt like I was going too far this time, silencing my dear woman for almost a week. So, with the intention of apologizing, I decided to go to her room.
“Mom...” I knocked slowly on her bedroom door, and called later. There's no answer. But it feels like this door is not locked – is only half closed, because I can feel the AC blowing from inside there.
“Mom...” once again I knocked on the door of that room, and there is still no answer. Mother why? A little curious, I slowly opened the door. Right, it's not locked. I stepped slowly, entering my parents' second room – which is now only a mother there, because my father is still in his office. I turned on the light, and saw the mother whose entire body was covered in a blanket.
“Mom... Are you ok?” my many. There's no answer. I opened the blanket that covered my mother's body, and I saw her wrists all wrapped in bandages.
“Mom!” seruku panic. My mother was not asleep, but unconscious. In a super panic I quickly called ART at home, then called the emergency doctor to get home. I don't think there will be time if we have to go to the hospital. Has not taken care of its administration. Oh my... What's the matter?
***
“Monya Alina turns out to have a history of poor mental health, she has a history of depression. And maybe, that pressure came again, so..” I rubbed my face rough, I found it hard to digest and believed the doctor's explanation. Lucky shortly afterwards, Aunty Verro – my mother's best friend, came. Mom once told me, she was a psychologist.
“Second aunt, Nic,” her door shortly after the doctor from IGD left the house. My mom is stable, she's asleep right now. My father had just come home, too, and he was so panicked to know what was going on with his wife. My father was so, it seems, he was pregnant early on with his mother.
***
“Your mother will be fine, Nico. Now, come with aunt first, auntie wants to tell you something.” Try to calm down. I nodded half reluctantly, then Aunty Verro took me to her car, I don't know where I'm going.
***
“This is your mother's old house, Nico..” said Aunty Verro, shortly after the car stopped in a rural area, with an apple plantation that seemed to spoil the eyes with green color.
“Which one?” my lot while dipping here and there. If it's my mother's old house, it's my grandparents' house, too.
“Then, Nico. Now there is no more house, maybe Om Roy and Aunt Susi have sold the house here, they are following another meeting, to Jakarta. Your mother had many brothers, but she was reluctant to meet, because of the bad things she experienced while still living in the mansion owned by Om Roy, her father. Auntie was asked something about your mother, because she often complained about your dislike when she spoke English with her every day.”.
“Because this is Indonesia, aunty, we should have spoken the language where we live, so that we are more familiar with the surrounding population,” I immediately cut off the words of Aunty Verro.
“Tante knows. But now, you read this first huh. You see, if you don't know, you won't be able to understand the reasons why your mother doesn't like, or doesn't want to, or avoid speaking her native language, her country language.” Aunty Verro said as she handed me a light blue book.
“This is her diary, you will find everything or every answer here,”. I opened the book slowly, reading every writing my mother wrote as a teenager like her, because this still uses Indonesian (sometimes interspersed with Javanese). There are a lot of explosive emotions that are perfectly contained here. And whether you believe it or not, my mother's writing as a teenager reminded me of Riana.
“Gue can't stay here, before papa gets crazier with his desires and ambitions, and his crazy obsession. The world of entertainment, it seems messy, it seems a trivial world, but, this world will also bring happiness to those who work there appropriately... There was no choice, I had to go in a really subtle way, until it was unknown. If necessary, until one family completely forgets and will never know me again. And I'll never go back to this place, I'll go all the way. It's serious..” that's the last sheet of diary notes belonging to my mother. The vow... All of this reminds me even more of the long-haired chatty girl; Riana.
“It's done?” ask Aunty Verro to get back in the car. In his hands, there were several cans of drink and a large bag of potato chips.
“Om Roy, your grandfather, has three children. The first Aunty April, your mother's older sister, kept Uncle David who now lives happily in Australia with his wife and three children, the last one, yes your mother, yes, who eventually settled in America with Louis and has you as his only son. So, your mother was often treated unfairly, compared to Aunty April, her older sister. All the verbal violence received raw form since childhood, anyway your mother is not a star in the family. Well, back in High School, it was the time of your mother's destruction. He often does such things, which we have seen together in your house. All these are just aunts, Mareta, our other best friend, and Enrico, the only male friend we had in our friendship at the time. Before actually escaping abroad, your mother had a fashion school first in Jakarta, using a scholarship program that was sought after in the same way she herself. After going through college, your mother took a year's work, Mareta's office again because they have a similar basic passion, which Mareta likes interior design, your mother is fashion design. But after a year, he said he really wanted to withdraw from Indonesia, want to go to college again, because there is scholarship info S 2, but in Canada. Yes maybe that is the way for your mother to stop and be free from her pain when she is ignored, not considered and not appreciated here. Yes, aunty can not prevent, aunty wants him happy, as a friend, that's just the desire of aunty for him, Nic,” said Aunty Verro long. I was touched to hear this story. Why don't you want to share it with me yourself? I'm his son...
“Alina is a good person, Nico. As good as man is, maybe that's the man. Aunty never saw anyone who was patient when treated badly with others. There is indeed a side of his exploding, a side up, a side of his anger he is there. But he rarely showed, he preferred to keep it to himself. After all, he also contributes a lot in the life of aunty. The aunt was not a rich man's son, had no previous friends, different from Alina, Mareta and Enrico who are a strata, both rich people. And it used to be in High School, only the three of them wanted to be friends with aunty. And aunty was really keen to go to psychology college, it was your mother who also helped to study intensive and looking for scholarships as well, until finally aunt finished S 1 and continued to get S 2 more opportunities, too, through the same path and path, scholarship. Therefore, aunty was very sad when your mother really had no news, until finally there was facebook, and our friendship was established again. Honestly, the aunt herself was shocked when she decided to return to Indonesia. Aunty thinks he's made peace with a lot of things here, but apparently before. So that's why your mother has always hidden her Indonesianity from you, she has not been able to make peace with many things here, Nico.” he continued later. I looked down deep. My mother was unhappy. It turned out that my mother struggled alone to forgive and accept all the painful parts of her mass.
“I’m a bad child,” I said, more to myself.
“You're not a bad boy, you just don't know and don't understand. But all you have to know is that your mother loves you very much, Nico... Now we go home, it is almost morning.” said Aunt Verro while turning on the car engine and running it. I quickly put on my seat belt and stared blankly out the window. Tomorrow, when my mom gets better, I'll apologize to her, I'll hug her longer, and say I love her more than usual. Tomorrow and beyond, mother is the top priority in my life. Better late than never, right?
(BBC).
