Why Different?

My Baby

Seven days waiting, the car Juan ordered finally arrived. However, because Zahira felt she still had no right to touch him, she said, he also let the object remain parked in his yard (because the garage only fit for one car and one motorcycle belonging to Abi) until later the owner came to pick up.

In the last few days, since Juan officially became a Muslim, the man came home more often. The goal is to go to the mosque with Abi, sometimes also go to study to replace Andan who was previously a partner in crime Abi. So far, what Zahira has seen from Juan has only been positive changes, and of course he is happy.

“Tuh his son.” Show Umi Maryam who accompanied Zahira sitting on the front porch watching the sun slowly sink.

Zahira raised her gaze, welcoming Juan who appeared from the front gate with a big smile that made her eyes disappear. The man came in a white body-fitting sweatshirt clad again in an outer grey checkered shirt, black knee-length drawstring shorts and black home-made sandals as well. In both hands, there was a large shopping bag that had no idea what it contained.

“Assalamualaikum!!” greet the man cheerfully.

“Walaikumssalam.” Umi and Zahira answered in unison. Both of them got up before Juan came to the front.

“Tolongin, The.” Juan said as he extended a bag in his right hand to Zahira. Even women have reflexes. After that, Juan used his free hand to shake Umi Maryam's hand and placed a kiss on the back of the woman's hand.

“This is what? Weight.” Whine Zahira after the hand kiss procession is complete.

Juan who could not resist the anxiety almost pinched Zahira's cheekbones, but stopped because there was Umi Maryam beside him. Finally, the outstretched hand he turned to ask back the plastic bag he had tucked into his girlfriend.

“Fruits. There is one seed watermelon, orange, apple, crystal guava, melon.” Juan explained. Then, he lifted another bag that was in his left hand. “If it contains snack, bread, sweet bread, milk, tea, the same coffee.”

“Much very? What do you want to do?” that's Umi Maryam's voice. Typical of mothers, do not like if there is something redundant.

Juan turned to look at his future mother-in-law, then grinned wide. “As a bribe, because Juan wants permission to invite Zahira weekly night using a new car.”

“Basic.” Umi Maryam replied. But I also did not stop smiling. “Udah salat asar not yet you?”

“Loh, obviously already, dong, Umi. Uda handsome gini, time not salat.” Juan said as he puffed his chest. Ah, so arrogant to convert this one.

Umi Maryam shook her head, but the smile on her lips still did not fade as well. He could only tuck in the prayer, hopefully Juan's spirit to obey worship will continue to burn this much later. Do not just start, then in the middle of being a haggard.

“Ya already, enter first. The road runs out isya aja, so no prayers are delayed.”

“Ready!” juan said with such passion. This time, Zahira made a head gnarl.

The three of them walked in, leaving behind a twilight that came perfectly with a blend of orange and pink.

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As planned, after finishing the congregational prayer at the mosque with Abi Hamzah, Juan heated up the car to get ready for a Sunday night filled with the colors of love.

“You want to walk only using such a color?” ask Zahira while crossing. Unlike Juan who is still with his gembel outfit, Zahira is neat with his gamis and hoods are climatic.

Juan smiles. He then turned off the engine and walked over to Zahira who was standing near the entrance. “Emang why only use color? You're ashamed to walk with me if I'm a gini?” tanyanya. He knew, soon Zahira would be ripping.

Sure enough, Zahira immediately snickered with full frowning lips. “Who said padlock? I nanya because that's your thighs will go everywhere if used to sit. Not iris if later seen by the same people?”

“Oh... is the story jealous? Afraid of smooth thighs I glimpsed with other girls, yes, Yang?” the more Zahira frowned, the more excited Juan teased.

“Ngak.” Zahira answered briefly. The woman in a red hood then grabbed her handbag, then just slipped into the car but was not welcome by the owner.

Knowing that the level of his shoulder Zahira had started to get bad, Juan also stopped playing around. By leaving Zahira ngadem alone in the car, she went back inside the house. To return a few minutes later in a more humane suit.

The shorts that Zahira said made her thighs everywhere she replaced with light blue torn jeans. The body fit shirt that he had previously changed using another more decent body fitting shirt (the previous shirt was sleeveless, without arms, that was why he was still wearing the outer to protect his arm muscles being exposed everywhere).

“Tok... Tok...” he said, tapping the car glass several times.

Still with a sullen face, Zahira lowered the car glass.

“Nih, I'm handsome.” Juan was proud.

Zahira could only sigh in resignation, then asked Juan to come in immediately so that they would not be late.

As the Queen of Nature had decreed, Juan immediately walked around, opened the car door in excitement and sat behind the wheel. “Ready?” tanyanya while installing seatbelt.

Zahira did not answer, instead looked straight ahead. Suddenly, it made Juan astonished. His smile faded, and he began to wonder; what was wrong with me?

“Yang?”

“Your clothes are tight.” Just that, but it was enough to make Juan exhale so dramatically.

“This is the doang in your house, which. Should I go home first? Dong's night later we?” He tried to give an explanation.

Again, Zahira did not reply. Still pouting and now coupled with the gesture of turning the body that makes Juan can only look at his back.

Marriage is about accepting. Juan repeated the sentence again. There are times when, on several occasions, Zahira will indeed turn out to be this thick. Little things that Juan thinks are not important to fuss about can sometimes bother Zahira much more. Not infrequently, it makes Juan sultry. She wanted him to eat her lover alive.

However, again, when viewed in its entirety, that annoying attitude only comes a few times. When compared to his immortality and patience as vast as the ocean, it would be unfair for Juan to be so angry. Because isn't man the wrong place and all the shitty stuff? If looking into himself, his lack is also still more.

Armed with that thought, Juan gently touched Zahira's shoulder. “You want us to go home to me first?” as the first solution. “Or did I take my outer just now, huh? It's okay, deh, don't connect, the important thing is that my curves are invisible, right?” and that's the second option.

For some time, Zahira said nothing. A pair of neutrals were running around chasing Juan's bead that was glued to him.

“Which you, hmm?”

“No need, we go aja.” Zahira eventually broke up.

Zahira nodded. “Later overnight.”

“Yes, sure your seatbelt is installed correctly. We walk now.” Juan's gentle claps poured several times over Zahira's head. The women did not reply, only a short nod and they began the journey.

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As far as Juan knows, there are only two possibilities why Zahira's annoying attitude can appear. First, if the monthly cycle is near and the woman's feelings become more sensitive. Second, because of hunger.

Since Zahira's monthly cycle has gone far, what tonight means is a second possibility. So without asking this much, Juan immediately covered a nearby chicken pecel tent that they first passed.

Zahira is not a typical woman who will answer whatever if asked what she wants to eat, and Juan himself is not someone who wants to bother thinking about what they want to eat. As long as it is not poisonous, it will eat anything. So it's not strange if he could easily decide to eat in a chicken pecel tent like tonight.

“Chicken two yes, Mas, chest. The usual rice, not the one sitting. One iced sweet tea, one warm unsalted tea.” Without asking, Juan immediately mentioned the order. Zahira what? He simply took a sitting position closest to the road. Busy looking at the traffic of vehicles. Perhaps, in his head at this time also the woman was idly counting how many motors passed in front of him.

“Udah, is that all?”

“Iya, that's aja.”

“OK, awaited, yes, Mas.”

“Still.” Juan walked over to Zahira.

Seeing his dreamy lover with a mood that seemed to have not improved, Juan decided not to fuss over asking. But that doesn't mean he's also silent and let them just sit next to each other doing nothing. Juan took out a spray-shaped hand sanitizer from inside his pants pocket, pulled out Zahira's hands and sprayed the lemon-scented object into his lover's palm.

Although still reluctant to speak, Zahira did not refuse to treat Juan. She let her lover help sterilize her hands.

Because the customers who came quite a lot, Juan was worried that their order would come long enough. The problem is, if left too long to starve, Zahira who is calm and gentle like the king's daughter could be turned into a zombie brain hunter. Spooky, anarchist.

But fortunately, it didn't happen. It was not until ten minutes since they sat down, the order had already come and delivered by a teenage boy. After previously sweet iced tea and warm fresh tea orders were delivered by other maids.

“Two chickens, two rice.” Said the teenager, whose taxi was only 15 or 16 years old, politely, lowering two rice dishes and two pieces of chicken with sambal and lalapan from the tray to the table.

“Still, yes.”

“Sama-sama, Mas. Please.” Then, the teenager resigned.

“Pray first gih. The chicken let me separate first, it's still hot.” Then without waiting for Zahira to answer, Juan immediately condoned the chicken breast belonging to Zahira, making sure the milk is suitable for the portion of the feed Zahira. No matter if his fingers blistered from the heat, Juan just wanted Zahira to eat comfortably.

“Nah, already. Eat a lot.” Juan shifted the plate in front of Zahira.

“Still, Ju.”

“No prob, My dear, My Love, My Love.” Juan replied exaggeratedly.

The absence of a nagging back from Zahira made Juan give a smile. That means, his lover's mood has improved.

Then, they eat quietly. There is never any conversation that takes place during the meal. Abi Hamzah said that, in addition to being disrespectful, talking while eating can increase the risk of choking and it is very dangerous. Hence, he always looked up to Zahira and Juan to focus on eating and chatting afterwards.

Jakarta air is hot even at night, plus their food is still hot to emit smoke, plus spicy chili sauce, making sweat popping on the face of both. Instead of taking care of his own sweat so as not to seep into the eye, Juan instead pulled out a few sheets of tissue using his clean left hand and wiped the sweat on Zahira's face.

That wordless interaction had left the pair of youngsters at the table next to look on in envy. The woman began to complain to her lover, asking why he did not do the same to wipe his sweat that had spread everywhere. While the man is indifferent and continues to eat because it seems, it is not the first time the lover sulks for whatever things he sees from other couples they meet on the street.

The conversation reached Zahira's ears, making the woman feel bad and immediately asking Juan to stop treating her like the king's daughter.

“Neither.” Reject Juan, this time he even used another sheet of tissue to wipe the corner of Zahira's lips were smeared sambal. “Love language different people, you can't tell me to stop being an act of service just so as not to envy others.”

“Not that,” Zahira whispered as she glanced unpleasantly at the next table. “Please if they get into a fight because of seeing us.”

“Bodo highly.” Juan was indifferent. “Take your food, don't look left.”

Returning to frown, Zahira sucked the rice into the mouth with a bit of sewot.

“Pelan-pelan, later sprains.” Juan reprimanding. She had finished eating first, had washed her hands as well and was just waiting for her lover. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Due to the reprimand, Zahira returned to eating in normal mode. Three more mouthfuls, and he was finally done.

“Pinter.” Juan praised. Again Zahira's head was targeted landing a soft clap from Juan's big hand. This time, instead of being like a couple, Juan was like his own sister.

“I am not a baby.” Zahira Protest.

“You are.” Stubborn Juan. “You are my Baby.”

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Cuz she’s my Baby, and forever will be. –Juananda Bucin Saputra

Seriate