This Is It?

Chapter 47: Missing

The happiest thing in life is sharing the happiness you have. I could see the smiles of enthusiastic children choosing and sorting out reading books according to their interests. I also saw the smiles of the parents watching their daughter's son take off the device to chat with the window of the world.

The atmosphere in my village is getting better. Citizens are increasingly aware of the importance of maintaining the beauty of the environment and the sustainability of nature by wisely disposing and managing waste. Indeed, one of the best investments for the next generation is healthy nature. Nature can always be relied upon to sustain the lives of all living things.

This may not happen if my mind is not in synergy with the right body and soul. An Ardi cannot possibly initiate change. It is not the absence of initiative and courage within, but the realization that no one will listen. As for a Bagas, just talking one sentence can burn the spirit of one village.

Huh! Nevermind! Whenever I absorb gratitude, there is always a comparison of life creeping into the mind.

Dita is not being repatriated. She cried begging to stay until the last day of my agenda here. As compensation, he promised to maintain his attitude and speech.

Honestly, I doubt he can keep his promise. However, I could make the promise he made as a spear if he acted again.

I set my foot down the paved road. My goal is to go to the elementary school where I first studied in education. I want to be a little nostalgic. Watching the behavior of innocent students as well as snacks typical front of the school.

Along the way, everyone who came to look threw smiles and greetings at me. My mind is getting more and more carefree, but a little bit beaten. The closer to the breakup time – elevates this place, the more evenly it spreads to the cells of my body. Today will be yesterday in tomorrow. Yesterday will be a clump of memories that cannot be repeated.

Huh! I get carried away easily with emotions.

I bought 10 egg rolls, one of my favorite snacks. The seller is still the same, only the price has doubled because of inflationary pressures.

Unfortunately, I was careless. Already know the culinary, but do not bring a penny.

I asked the seller for permission to go home for a while. Shame I have to bear because I was too confident as if my wallet was tucked in my pocket.

“Ten thousand yes, Mang? This I pay,” the voice of Mutia draped shahdu in my ear. His smooth hand drove before my eyes, thrusting money with the image of a hero named Frans Kaisiepo.

“Thanks yes, Mut. It could be this coincidence. I'll change at home,” I said.

“Neventless. Let me just treat you.” Mutia laughed a little.

“Cieee…. Neng Mutia is the same Aa is dating huh? Suitable dah, Mamang mah agrees,” seductive father who is known to be friendly and funny.

I responded to the statement of the Father with praise that the egg roll made delicious. It still feels the same as before.

“Gas, have you ever bought egg rolls here before?” tanya Mutia was astonished.

“Em...I mean...” I slowed down the tempo of the answer to look for the diversion sentence. “I mean egg rolls sold in front of SD will always be good yes. Wherever it is.” I'm breathing a sigh of relief. Then I remembered the words of the Father. “Mut, do you often snack here too? Kok the Father seems to know you very well.”

Mutia puffed her cheek. However, when he was about to answer, he lost quickly with the Father.

“Neng Mutia is my subscription from the past, A. Just like Aa Ardi whose house is over there. Just now the Neng had eaten 10 skewers as well,” explained the Father while pointing towards my house. “Only fitting class 4 si Neng Mutia transfer school. So aja Mamang had lost one loyal customer,” he added.

I looked at Mutia. My memory is in the past. The information given by the Father jolted my memory.

To be more convincing, I invited Mutia to sit on the pillar of the asem tree which became one of the descriptions of the location of my school. As I recall, Mutia never went to school here. Never read or heard his name on my student list. His face was foreign to my database.

“Mut, did you go to school here with Ardi? I thought you guys just met SMA in Jakarta.” I immediately extracted the exact information from him.

“Ya, right. Ardi and I knew him in High School. In SD time, I wasn't in her class. She's A class and I'm B class. I just know him, because he's a smart kid. He was always looked up to by the teachers. While I was, at that time, only quiet Elementary students who were often sickly and rarely entered school. I don't have many friends and I'm always alone. I can only envy seeing Ardi who is always cheerful,” he explained.

Mutia, a quiet B-class kid who rarely goes to school. Ah, there was no name with a figure like the one he had uttered.

I tried to give Mutia some space to tell more. “Then? What as long as your SD and Ardi never interact?”

“I always wanted to play with him. She's a jolly child, easy to blend, and – it was – smart. However, I could only see him and friends from a distance. My fragile body is often not allowed activities that invite sweat.” Mutia sighed for a moment.

A moment! I still can't remember who Mutia is. Akhhhh!!!

Is it possible that part of my memory is missing or stuck at the base of the brain that it is difficult for me to remember Mutia?

“One day, I saw Ardi confused in front of the Mr. egg seller roll earlier. Apparently, the money was lost and could not pay for the egg rolls that had been ordered. I also gave my money to pay. It happened exactly like you were planning to go home first take money home. Unfortunately, that was my last day at school. Until finally I did not expect to meet him in Jakarta,” continued Mutia a little sad.

I remember the incident Mutia spoke of. However, my helper woman at that time had a pale face. His name is Miss Larasati.

Right, Miss Larasati.

My body trembled immediately. Is Missing a Mutia? Is there a soul exchange that is also the same natural Mutia as me?

I know Miss, even if I just know. He's a very closed child. He was always accompanied by his father or mother during his time at school. He also always wore a pink sweater covering his uniform. Yeah, that's all I know about him. I guess he's just a passing student.

My memories are really challenged and tested. Miss and Mutia, is it really the same person?

“Rindu?” I said with a trembling voice.

Mutia raised both eyebrows while narrowing her eyes. “Ka.... You know my little name, Gas?”

He has confirmed my conclusion.

No. gabe. What did I just say? I am Bagas.

I'm turning the brain again. Mutia increasingly directed her eyes carefully to scrutinize my expression.

“Em…. Yes, homesickness. You miss the SD days, right?”

“Oh! I thought you knew my little name. I almost labeled you paranormal." Mutia breathed air from her mouth. "Yes, I missed SD first. But, I was feeling really grateful to be able to enjoy this sunny day. In the past, I was predicted to die before I turned 10. I have leukemia. Fortunately, God gave me a chance to live longer. After undergoing various treatments abroad, I finally recovered. As a form of shit, my parents changed my name from Miss Larasati to Pearl of Faithful Love. They wish me my life would be as beautiful as pearls and as faithful as love.”

It's worth it that I was so foreign when Mutia said that I had an Elementary School with me. Apparently, he changed his name. Things that are indeed commonplace are done so that bad luck that once attached disappears forever. Isn't that a name for prayer?!

I continue to eat my egg rolls. Unknowingly, there was only one last stab. I stared at the plastic with an incredulous look. How do I become a serious listener, but my mouth chews well? Mutia laughed at my behavior.

Speaking with Mutia, my heart felt comfortable. The hate that slipped in the heart was eroded through a piece of memoir echoed by him.

I still owe him. A forgotten debt, because he's the one I can no longer find until I graduate Elementary School.

Now, Miss alias Mutia is beside me. So, what should I do to pay for his kindness?

I shouldn't act like a child. Trying to hold her down because she rejected my love.

“Sorry yes, Gas. I have told you a lot of stories with you. Somehow I saw you like Ardi when he was in SD, while Ardi who is now very closed seems to be hiding his identity,” Mutia said.