The Thorn in the Family

Pilu

“Dance darling, listen to my explanation first. I'm sorry for everything, please understand, listen to my explanation” first. Now Randi is accelerating his pace to pursue Tari who is already in the parking lot.

Dari still ran with Risma who also cried in fear, seeing her parents who were fighting. The cry of his wife and child while making the heart of Randi plagues countless.

“Darling I beg”, his voice getting hoarse and powerless.

Dance stopped her steps right on the doorstep of the parking lot, now she looked at Randi very sharply and shouted quite loudly in front of Randi's face.

“What else heh?"

“What?”. He said back with a loud emphasis in front of Randi's face, and looked into his eyes.

“What will you ask of me? Accept all the actions you have done? accept your betrayal? or even receiving your child from another woman so heh!”.

“Don't hope, I'd better be widowed”, he said very loudly and left Randi without giving him a chance to say a word.

“I don't mean to betray you dear.”, his his sizzle watered down, he said,

“But you did it Mas, until she got pregnant. Pregnant your son!”. Dance laughs, laughs at her poor life.

“Stupid, I am indeed the dumbest woman in the world”.

“Now go back to your wife and child, dedicate it to your parents, because me and Risma are no longer yours!”.he turns his face away not wanting to look at Randi's face again. His footsteps were getting faster towards the parking lot, he was driving his car quite fast.

Randi was crushed, he fell to the ground. His feet suddenly limp, losing focus to stand. His soulmate had left him, for his own faults in the name of devotion to the old man.

****

Along the way Dance cried as she pleased, no words were thrown from her beautiful mouth. He was silent but the sound of crying echoed throughout the room. Risma was so frightened by the situation. He also cried to see the Mother sad.

“Mother, don't cry Risma scares”. The beautiful and innocent face looked up at her mother who was focusing on driving, her little fingers stretched out to pick up a tissue and wipe her Mother's tears.

Dance slightly lowered the pace of his car, he tried to give a little smile to the child, but unfortunately failed. A second later, he came back crying. Hitting his chest, which felt so overcrowded unbearably. Wishing all this was just a dream and soon woke up from his sleep.

“Yes Allah is sick once”. One hand pressed against his chest, trying to give strength to himself who was then completely helplessly fragile.

Now he's running his car back in any direction, splitting the street solids in the morning. The sound of horns and the noise of the crowded streets had no impact on Tari, at once her heart felt empty and languid.

It's only fitting that all this time mas Randi never bothered, if until now I have not been pregnant. Mas Randi also never told me to seek treatment or do a re-examination as an effort to have a baby. It is fitting that lately he has been so gentle with me.

Worth the last few days, Mama, often go home at night and leave the house earlier than usual. It's only fair that they won't mind if I adopt Risma and bring her to live together. The screams of his heart were so overflowing.

Tega.

Why do they all have the heart of me?, why do they do good in front of me, as if nothing happened?.

Dance was so hurt, she hit her chest hard enough.

“Hiks hiks, Mommy don't be like this. Mother do not be sad, do not cry. I'm afraid”. Now that Risma's tiny hands waited for the corner of the Dance hijab many times, the little girl was confused how to calm her Mother.

“Honey, forgive Mother. He answered softly, one hand raised holding softly Risma's cheek.

“Strong Ya Allah...kuat”. With all her might Tari tried to stop her crying, calming her turbulent mind and heart.

He returned to running his car, this time at a moderate speed, Dari realized his actions had just made Risma, frightened until the face of the little boy looked pale.

His hand reached for the mineral bottle in the back seat, gulping down the contents of the bottle. Try to breathe as much air as he can and exhale slowly.

The corner of his lips was slightly interested in making an upward curve, and looked at the child.

“Risma do not be afraid yes, Risma must promise Bunda”.

“What promise Mommy?”, her innocent face looked up slowly looking into the eyes of the Mother.

“Risma must promise, slalu is with Mommy, Risma must not leave mother huh?”. His ink with back holding back tears that almost fell. He looked up at the ceiling of the car, blocking the clear flow that was almost completely gone.

“Iya Risma promise, but Mother do not grieve ya”. One of her hands raised and showed her little finger to Dance.

The two looked at each other and smiled.

Now the car back on the road has no direction of purpose, like his life suddenly lost focus.

“Where are we going? This is not the way home?”, the voice again spread the daydream Dance, can not be denied the sense of tightness so real, to make it confused where to go.

“We go for a walk first yes dear”.

The car again runs down Surabaya traffic solids in the morning. Dance's eyes came to a halt as she looked towards the window.

Masjid Al - Akbar Surabaya.

Deg.

His heart throbbed again, he turned the path back to the largest mosque in Surabaya.

Arriving in the courtyard of the mosque, he immediately parked his car, holding Risma's small hand and bringing her into the mosque.

Dance asked Risma to sit for a while, while she stepped up to take the ablution water.

Both of them again stepped towards the inside of the mosque, the chill full of calm began to feel, when his feet touched the marble of the mosque.

He took the mukena in the corner of the mosque, held a prayer mat right in the front row. He is facing the Creator. Dance performed prayers to calm her heart.

Allah Huakabar's...Her tears just came back. His lips trembled as he recited the verses of Allah. Mukena and the prayer rug she used were soaked by her cries, as if as a silent witness of how heart-wrenching.

He prostrated long enough, enjoying a sense that was not at a distance with the creator. Spilling all the whack. His heart was torn, his soul was broken, this was the first time he cried in prayer for heartache and disappointment in his fellow servants.

Dance rose again from her prostration, she sat down in front of the Creator, her eyes looking at the pulpit in front of her. His hand raised upward again cried out and called out to his Creator.

“Yes Allah, I am facing you, I am back to you, asking for your strength and help. God, I am hurt by someone I love very much. I'm looking for You O God because I'm so devastated”.

Hiks..hiks...hiks. The heartache was so felt from the shakes of his voice.