What a Beautiful Divorce

74. Woodpecker

The soft shining sun infiltrated the cracks of the fog in the village of Kejora. The leaves and branches of the tree danced in the morning breeze. And in that cool atmosphere, the cattle in the gardens of Prapto and Nimo spread to their respective favorite places. Some are clustered, some are alone.

Prapto and Nimo noticed their twelve chicks that had just hatched a few days ago. The chicks are always guarded by their mother. When Prapto and Nimo approach, the hen will immediately put on an alert attitude, like a mother who always protects her children.

“You, Nimo, I'll have another pat,” Prapto said as he handed Nimo a box of chicken food.

“I'm scared too, Boss. I've been pecked twice.” Nimo put her hand close to the hen. The hen's mother immediately opened her wings and was ready to peck when Nimo's hand advanced closer. Nimo pulled his hand. “Why not put a little far away, Boss?”

“The chicken is cute, Nimo. I want to see them up close and take photos,” Prapto said, smiling.

Nimo. He extended a hand to Prapto. “Ya already, Boss, here's the box.”

The face of Prapto. He gives Nimo a box of chicken food and picks up her cell phone.

Nimo watched the hen for a moment. Then he reached out his hand to sow chicken food. “Come, eat. Let's make peace!” bring Nimo.

Two chicks advanced and pecked at the food that Nimo sowed. Seeing his two children advancing, the hen came forward. Nimo was about to stand dodging, but Prapto said, “Don't, Nimo. Mana knows the hen already does not think we disturb her son anymore.”

“If I'm pecked how, Boss?” ask Nimo.

“For the sake of taming our chickens, Nimo, and for the sake of photographing them. If the hen is not angry anymore, it means we can get close to her child.”

Nimo did not answer. The hen mother was getting closer, still with wings developed, she stared at Nimo. Nimo who did not want to be patted again wanted to stay away immediately, but Prapto read the gelagatnya. “Don't run, Nimo.”

Nimo closed her eyes, but soon she opened them again. If his eyes are closed, of course he will not be able to avoid if the hen suddenly pecked at his face.

Prapto laughs. “Succeeded, Nimo. You're great.” He then stood next to Nimo and took a photo of the chicks with their mother. “I'll send the picture to Daddy and Mang Kari later.”

“I'm anxious, Boss,” says Nimo. He then invited Prapto to chat in front of the kitchen building.

“Today the coffee is different, Boss,” said Nimo smiled, while putting two cups of coffee.

Prapto smiled, “What's the difference? Equally black coffee, Nimo.” He blew the coffee for a while and sipped it. Prapto's face turned to wonder. "True, Nimo, it's better. Is the brand of coffee different from the usual?"

"That's how great I am, boss. The coffee brand is the same, kok,” Nimo said, laughing.

"About you, Nimo ... Nimo."

"The first thing I replaced with gulan aren, boss, but the cooking was different. Coffee and palm sugar put directly into the pot."

Prapto. "Why haven't you been making coffee with palm sugar, Nimo?" tanyakanya.

"I just found out, Boss, when I saw Mom making coffee for Dad. Mommy-made coffee tastes different."

"Tomorrow I will buy palm sugar a lot" said Prapto. "Oh yeah, Nimo, you want to come with me?"

"Where, Boss? Sleeping in a rice field covered in straw?" asked Nimo, laughing.

"Damn." Prapto laughed. "To Mr. Ino's house. I'm gonna talk about home renovation."

"Bye, Boss. Coffee, right?"

"Yes." Yeah."

Prapto and Nimo then lit a cigarette, then chatted about the village of Kejora and their love.

***

By late afternoon Prapto and Nimo were cycling to Pak Ino's house. They deliberately took a detour so that all of them would go around the village. Prapto stopped his bike in front of the frying cart.

"We buy fried food first, Nimo, for Mr. Ino and his family" said Prapto. After ordering, he noticed one of the yard houses across the street.

In the courtyard of the house, five girls were playing cooking. They made furnaces out of stone, and cauldrons out of coconut shells. And in the cauldron there are various types of leaves and flowers.

Not far from the children who played cooking, five other girls made houses from the ground. They use a lid for the fence, leaves as the roof, and sweep it with a strand of chicken feathers. The residents of the houses were wooden golek (doll made of wood) which was definitely purchased from a traveling toy trader, namely Pak Kuncoro.

Prapto. Never had he found such a sight while living in Jakarta. He was happy to see the smiles and joy of children who played without burden. "You used to cook and house too, Nimo?" ask Prapto without looking.

Prapto looked at Nimo. "What's the difference?"

Nimo pointed to the courtyard of the house next to where the girls were. "So, Boss," Nimo said laughing.

On the courtyard of the house appointed by Nimo, four boys held wooden goleks who had been given various weapons; there were spears, swords, knives, and mace. They spoke alternately playing the role of each wooden golek, then the wooden golek was moved in such a way that it looked like it was fighting.

Prapto scrunched his face. "How to determine the winner how, Nimo?"

"Wooden goblets hit by guns or blows will lose, Nak Prapto. The legs and hands of the wooden golek were controlled, and the wooden golek should not be lifted to dodge."

Prapto and Nimo. The answer just now is the fathers of fried sellers. He held out the fried plastic to Prapto.

Prapto smiled and gave money. "That's it, yes, sir. I want to play the wooden golek too" he said.

After saying thank you, Prapto and Nimo continued to travel to Pak Ino's house.

***

"Mas Ino went into the forest looking for wood, son," said Bu Ani, Pak Ino's wife on Prapto and Nimo.

"Yes, Uncle, I'm looking for wood to make Kinan a wooden golek" continued Kinan, Pak Ino's eight-year-old daughter.

Prapto smiled at Kinan and asked, "Dad Kinan is long gone? When will he get home?"

Kinan held his chin as he was thinking, but before long he shook his head. Ani's mother rubbed her son's hair. "From noon on, Nak Prapto. Maybe Mas Ino hasn't found a suitable wood."

"Yes, ma'am, we'll follow Mr. Ino" Prapto said. He then gave the fried plastic to Kinan, which he received with a cheerful face.

Prapto and Nimo pedal their bikes to the Kejora village forest. Unfinished they parked the bike, Mr. Ino appeared at the forest door with a slightly moody face.

"You want to fish?" ask Mr. Ino as soon as he sees Prapto and Nimo.

"No, sir, we are looking for you" replied Nimo. He said that they were from Mr. Ino's house.

Mr. Ino took Prapto and Nimo to sit by the river. "That is, it is rather difficult to find the right wood for a wooden golek. I've been looking for him for hours" Mr. Ino said.

"Why not just buy it for Mr Kuncoro, sir?" ask Prapto.

"Pak Kuncoro is still a week away to the village of Kejora, Prapto. Poor Kinan, he wants to play a wooden golek immediately with his friends." Mr. Ino lit his cigarette. "Wait, yes, if the wood has met new we go to my house to talk about home renovation. Are you guys in a hurry?"

"No, really, sir. We'll help you find him" Prapto said.

Mr. Ino looked at the river flow a little turbid because the rain was quite heavy last night. "When he doesn't get the toys or the food he asks for, he won't protest or get angry. But she would cry when alone in the room. Her mother and I once saw her crying because she forgot to make her favorite food.

When we asked him why he was crying by himself in the room, he said, 'Kinan doesn't want Dad and Mom to be sad.' I don't want to see my daughter cry anymore, Prapto, Nimo.”

“I understand how you feel, Mr. Ino,” said Prapto. “What does the wood look like, Sir?”

Mr. Ino did not answer. He stood up and went closer to the river. "That drifting wood is what I'm looking for, Prapto," he said, pointing to a drifting wood that would pass through them."

"Come, Boss, Sir!" nimo shouted, then stood up.

Mr. Ino and Nimo went into the river chasing the driftwood, but the wood passed before Mr. Ino could reach it. They quickly returned to the edge in order to run after.

"Where was Mr Prapto, sir?" nimo asked as she looked around, so did Mr. Ino.

"That's it," said Mr. Ino.

Somewhat far below them, there appeared Prapto who was already holding the wood and was returning to the edge. When Pak Ino and Nimo entered the river, Prapto did not participate because according to his estimates the wood would pass first. So he ran down and into the river after quite far ahead of the wood.

"It's also great that you're the boss" Nimo laughed.

Prapto handed the wood to Mr. Ino. “Kinan won't cry again, sir,” he said.

Mr. Ino smiled haru. “Thank you, Prapto. Come on, let's go home and pick a house design you like. I've kept a lot of pictures of the house for you.