The Secret With Bad Boy

Long struggle

The night felt so long for a Lukman who felt like he had finished fighting death alone. He is grateful that he can still breathe, to continue his life. The puffy eyes blinked slowly as the morning sunlight bias entered through the glass gap and made the contents of the room slightly bright. His glottis slowly rose and fell as he swallowed the saliva that felt dry in his throat.

He stretched out, moving his body about to go to fetch the drinking water that was on the small table beside his bed, but only his fingers could he move. Lukman breathed in a rough air, feeling so weak and powerless that he even felt sorry for himself.

With the rest of his strength, he re-wrestled, moving his body on the surface of the mattress, to get closer to the small table. He gripped the side of his bed firmly and made it a focus to get up.

“Akh!” Lukman complained as he felt a great sensation when he managed to rise slowly. He sat down on the back of his bed. His weak hand tried to reach the glass next to him. After he succeeded, he tried to lift a glass that felt so heavy. It is only half the rest.

The trembling hand continued to struggle, until he could gulp down water. As the cold water passed through his throat, there was a sense of restraint in his throat that made him only able to swallow little by little the water that had been in his mouth.

“Is it possible that my throat is starting to swell, as the doctor once said?” Lukman asked himself.

“Kinan, Kala.” Lukman tried to make a sound to test what sounds came out of his mouth. Hoarse, small, like a whisper when he speaks wholeheartedly.

“Kinan..” This time he called the name of Kinanti longer, but his breath did not arrive and instead coughed. He coughed for a moment, rubbing his chest that began to claustrophobic.

“Daddy, are you awake?” kinanti's voice sounded behind the door.

“Ya.” Lukman let out his voice, but so quietly.

“Dad, Dad need something?” Kinanti knocked again on Lukman's bedroom door, as he knew, something was wrong with his father.

Lukman gathered all his strength to answer Kinanti's questions. “Dad will be out soon, son.” After trying with all his might, the voice finally sounded louder.

“Oh, yes Father. Kinan made Dad's favorite quail egg soup. We had breakfast with Dad. Kala was also on the road like.” The voice of Kintai was heard again.

“Yes, nak.” Lukman responded with full energy even though the result was still a quiet voice and only heard by Kinanti.

“Okey, Father.” Kinanti. Although he still seemed to think because he felt Lukman was different today, but he tried to understand. Perhaps his father was exhausted by the amount of work he received.

After Kinanti's voice was no longer heard, Lukman tried to get up. He walked to the bathroom. His legs felt so stiff, probably because he twitched a few times all night when he felt pain in his body. He dragged the two weak legs and held on to anything that could help him stand up.

It takes a lot of effort just to be able to sit on a toilet seat. He sat there daydreaming, thinking about what he should do now.

“Did I just tell Kinanti, if maybe my life is not long anymore?” Lukman muttered alone. He looked at the white wall before him and it was like he was seeing his long-lost wife.

“Bu, will Kinan be strong if I leave him alone?” it is like dialogue with a figure visualized by his brain that begins to weaken.

“If Dad leaves, who will take care of him? Who will take him for a walk to Bandung and visit mother's grave? Who will listen to the story of his colorful and long days? Who will hug him when he is desperate and misses us? Are we just going to look at it from up there?”

Lukman's words are stuck. He bowed lethargic with tears that began to drip. Tears are very rare because it is difficult to let out even though his heart screams to feel deep sadness.

Lukman could not imagine what his daughter was like living alone. His body was getting frail and probably would not last for a long time. However, he remembered the words of Kala. Lukman had to tell his daughter. Don't let Kinanti regret not knowing anything about her condition.

Then, did he see the cry of his daughter's grief, later?

****

“Dad have you woken up?” Lukman he asked first.

“Udah. I called, Dad is awake. Stamp coughs too. I think my father got the flu, because his voice was also a bit hoarse,” said Kinanti who continued to prepare breakfast for him, Kala and Lukman.

“I'm in her room, can?” Kala was very worried. He feels like Lukman is not okay.

“Bby. Tap on the door.”

“Okey,” Kala is up soon. He left Kinanti who was still brewing milk for their breakfast friend and preparing a cup of tea for Lukman.

“Om, this is Kala. Can I sign in?” kala's voice could still be heard by Kinanti and Lukman.

“Include, Kal.” Lukman allowed it.

“Tumben really let someone else into his room? I'm often banned, Kala's turn may be. Though the child is right, I.” Kinanti muttered to herself. His lips were slightly pursed in annoyance.

Nevertheless, he is grateful that Lukman has a interlocutor, Kala. Although Kinanti never knew what the two men were talking about. Maybe a conversation between men.

“Om, this is for Om.” Kala gave the goodybag to Lukman.

“What is this?” Lukman looked at the goody bag in his hand, full of questions.

“This multivitamin drink. Can improve blood circulation and increase endurance Om. It can also reduce muscle cramps and spasms due to chemoteraphy.” Kala explained what it was.

“Yeah, Om never get a recommendation of this herbal medicine from doctor Om. But, this drug is very expensive Kal. Why are you giving this to Om?” Lukman stared at Kala inexhaustibly.

“Because I want to nemenin Om fight." Kala's reply sounded so resolute and his gaze so solemn on Lukman. Lukman heard Kala's words.

"Out there, there's someone who is very hopeful for recovery Om. If Om says Om wants to tell Kinan everything after Om has fully recovered, then hang on and fight. Kala will accompany Om when saying the good news,” said Kala with full sincerity and sincerity.

Lukman was so touched by Kala's words. He grabbed the teenager's shoulder and hugged her tightly.

“Thank you Kal, thank you. I am so grateful to know you. You're a very good boy. Your parents must be very proud to have a child as good as you.” Lukman sobbed in Kala's arms.

Kala just smiled as he rubbed the back of Lukman who began to thin. He could even feel a spinal bulge being palpated by his palm.

“Om, if Kala can ask, can Om tell Kinan everything? Kala is sure Kinan also wants to accompany Om to fight. Don't make him regret.” Kala half begged this middle-aged man.

Lukman broke his wound from Kala. He looked at Kala with a smile. The line of his tired face was clearly visible to Kala.

“Om will say it soon. Om will soon find the right time to tell Kinan. If later Kinan cried and blamed himself, please never leave him. When he is angry and disappointed, he tends to blame himself. Please, don't make him dissolve in his sadness for too long. Can you, Kal?” The old man clasped Kala's hand tightly.

Kala did not chim in, he just nodded slowly with a worried look at lukman. In his heart he promised, he would take good care of Kinanti, even though Lukman did not ask for it.

****