Why Different?
Red Rose
In the middle of the day, after returning from the pharmacy, Juan covered Reno's room. Only to find the fat-haired man was sleeping on his stomach on the bed and his legs were not as long as they were hanging on the side of the bed. At 9 earlier, when Juan left for the pharmacy, Reno had just returned home from where— was half-stoned. The smell of alcohol still emanated so strongly from the man's lips as he spoke. His eyes also looked flushed, while the shirt he was wearing was already matted shapeless.
“Udah old not a penitent, even more so.” Omel Juan with his head. He then walked over. With no compassion, he used half his powerful energy like Samson to shift Reno's body until the man's sleeping position turned recumbent.
Feeling his sleep disturbed, Reno gave a long moan. His still heavy eyes could only faintly glance at Juan, which further aggravated him because now his great cousin was leisurely sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Where are you from? Why just come back? Where is teler pula.” Juan began the interrogation session.
Still with eyes closed, Reno replied, “Anniversary colleague.” Then stretch his body and return to find a comfortable sleeping position.
“Anniversary what to make you drunk gini?” juan asked suspiciously. Not satisfied with the reason Reno gave because he thought it made no sense at all. He even suspects that Reno may return to the nightclub, returning to their dark lives in the past.
Reno geming's. The man did not answer at all and instead pulled the blanket over his entire body and head. He also placed his palms in his ears, trying to banish Juan's voice that could enter at any time.
“Answer me?” Juan is still charging.
But again, there was no answer Reno gave so Juan ended up resigned after passing a low breath.
“Lo's not young anymore, yeah, Ren. Your body is also not as strong as it used to be, so less-lessin deh drink alcohol.” As someone who had already quit, Juan just wanted to make Reno understand. Leaving alcohol and cigarette smoke is not bad. It even has a lot of positive effects.
“This is not because I want to be pious or how. Yes whatever is about religious rules, but clearly alcohol is not good for health. I just want you to start living healthier. Besides, you also can not always control what will happen if you are again under the influence of alcohol, right?” at length Juan spoke, Reno did not reply at all.
Inside his blanket there, Reno was actually listening. He also secretly guaranteed what Juan said, because it was true. The condition of his body is not as happy as before, considering his age which has also almost touched the head of three. Reno understood, he just didn't want to say anything to Juan because he was lazy. Because once he makes a sound, their conversation will end long.
After all, there was something more troubling to his mind at the moment. That is about the incident that happened after he was drunk at the wedding anniversary party of one of the colleagues he attended last night. An incident that scared him half to death, so he felt like he wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.
Still in the same place, in the absence of a voice from Reno, Juan again sighed a heavier—.
“If nutmeg is not too dizzy, go down for lunch. I'm sure your stomach hasn't filled anything from last night.” Then, Juan got up after landing a pat on Reno's head that was in fact older than him. “Don't bring sleep continues, which there nutmeg lo getting dizzy.” That's what he said, then he came out of Reno's room and didn't forget to close the door again.
Meanwhile, minutes after Juan's departure, then Reno wanted to pop his head. Slowly he sat himself down, only to recite what had happened, ruffling his hair like it was the only thing he could do at the moment.
“Reno moron, moron, idiot!!!”
...🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁...
“Nginep another day, Ju.” Chyntia. His hands did not come off Juan's arms, sagging like a cat asking for food.
“Can't, Mama. Juan's busy, a lot of work. Later Juan often here deh let Mama do not miss.” Without diminishing his respect, Juan tried to escape from his mother's demeanor.
“Lying, ah. Yesterday also said it is so, will often play. But what fact? Until a week you just came.” Chyntia frowning. Really, she still wasn't willing to have to let go of this big baby to go again—which is when it will somehow come back.
“Not lie.” Juan assured. Summarizing both of the mother's cheeks, then she looked at the woman's netra deeply. “Juan promises will come often. Three, no, once every two days. Once every two days Juan will come to meet Mama.”
“Can't be every day?” whinek Chyntia again. Even if he could, he wanted to tell Juan to stay here again. But he realized, it's not going to happen.
With a heavy heart, Juan shook his head. Not to be arrogant, but he really has become a busy person now. Morning to afternoon go to the cafe, the night had to pick up Zahira, home from Zahira, he also still had to work from home (last week, he received freelance work from several overseas companies). He was really busy, more so than when he was still an employee at a family-owned company.
Despite her disappointment, Chyntia has no choice but to let her son move on living the life he has already chosen himself. Twenty more years of being a dictatorial parent made him tired all the time too. Moreover, he was old and his energy to get angry was not as big as it used to be. Juan is also an adult, has been more able to give arguments for every decision he took.
Eventually, Chyntia sent Juan home. But still, he again slipped in the arms of the son until he reached the front door.
Just one second before Juan's hand touched the door handle, the large door was pushed from the outside, leaving Juan and his mother to step back to make way for anyone to enter.
Apparently, that person was Julius, Juan's father. The middle-aged man came home in a state of disarray. His white shirt was tangled, the tie that should have hung around his neck was also out of nowhere. His eye bags thickened, his eyes reddened and the hair that had been decorated with a few strands of gray was seen disheveled.
Juan had no idea how many tens of millions more his father had spent on gambling during these 3 days. What was clear, from the disheveled look on his face, Juan knew the old man must have lost quite a lot.
What makes Juan wonder is, why his father still likes to gamble when he already knows he always loses? Moreover, now the business of buying and selling drugs and human trafficking that he had been in since he was young was no longer viable. Automatically, the income is reduced, right? But why was the old man still unconverted as well?
Like a stranger, Juan only looked at his father's return indifferently. There was no warm greeting that he offered to the man who had never showered him with affection since he was a toddler. He was just a little grateful that at least the man was still coming home alive.
Like Juan, Julius did the same. As if not seeing the whereabouts of his son and wife, the man passed into the house with wide steps that looked light. Leaving his son and wife behind with a void and a bitter laugh that could no longer be held back.
“Crazy.” Juan hissed, but the next second, he again lowered his tension and chose to pull his mother out of the house.
In his head, Juan had already prepared the question: why did they not just get divorced? Because it looks like, it would be better—especially for Mama. It's not impossible if Mama can get a chance to meet a better man than Papa, right? Anyone knows, Mama could have the opportunity to live with the person she loves and love him with all her body.
However, until his mother's grasp was released and he got into the car, the question was never able to be conveyed. He just... I don't want to hurt her mother more.
“Iya. Juan calls Mama. Uda, there go in.”
Once again, Chyntia bent down to be able to kiss her son's cheek. “Be careful on the road.”
“Iya..” Juan commented with a smile, then he lifted the windshield and immediately stepped on the gas pedal. The car drove away from the grounds of the Big House.
...🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁...
At the traffic light that turned red, Juan's focus again split. When other drivers are impatient waiting for the lights to turn green, Juan even solemnly watched a middle-aged man offering fresh red rose stalks to pedestrians passing by the sidewalk. His old body seems not an obstacle to keep the spirit of seeking sustenance. As the saying goes: don't stop, before you really die.
Just by looking at the smile on the old man's face when someone was about to receive his flower stalk, Juan's heart warmed. Then when the traffic light finally turned green, Juan pulled over his car and then came down to the old man.
“How many rose flowers, sir?” juan asked as he plucked a single rose that looked most striking. He carried it to the front of his face, smelling its distinctive aroma for a few full seconds while waiting for an answer from the owner of the flower.
“Free.” The old man replied, making Juan look in disbelief.
The rose in front of her face kept her away with dramatic movements, while her narrow eyes gnawed in disbelief.
“Free?” tanyanya still with a cengo look.
The old man nodded with a warm smile that still did not fade. “If you want, take aja.” Then, with his hands full of wrinkles, the old man thrust another rose to Juan.
Although his brain was still not finished digesting, Juan's hand still moved itself to receive the stem of the rose that the old man stretched out.
“Totally free, Sir?” juan asked again, still in disbelief.
Again, the old man nodded. “Mas want again? Can, kok.”
Juan did not reply, instead looking down at the basket containing dozens of fresh-looking rose stalks. It still feels strange that these beautiful flowers are shared for free.
“Why not sell, sir? Beautiful and fresh roses gini?”
The old man smiled again, “This rose I picked from the garden of my late wife. I purposely distributed so that at least he could be useful to others. Did you see it at the end of the road?” the old man pointed to the end of the road, just a few hundred meters from where they were standing.
In the direction that the old man pointed, Juan could see a vast expanse of land in which there were many mounds of earth. Shady trees are planted in several spots to add to the impression of adem— although sometimes even make it look more horror at night. Through a large archway on the right and left sides of the entrance, Juan was able to read a signpost indicating that it was a public cemetery.
“TPU?” juan said, then he hesitated to look again at the old man.
“True.” The old man nodded again. “Place where people rest in a more eternal world. Not everyone buried there comes from their family. That means, not all relatives can come to visit by bringing them an expensive bouquet of flowers from a luxury florist on the other side of the road. That is why, I am here, to share the crops from the estate of my late wife to pilgrims who have nothing to offer to their departed family members.”
“Thus, I hope, my wife can also smile from where she is now. Because the flower garden she cared for wholeheartedly ended up producing something that could be useful to others.”
For some time, Juan was glued to look at the old man who was still smiling at him. The bright sparkles from his dark brown eyes made Juan's heart beat violently. When he witnesses his mother goosebumps for living with an irresponsible man like his father, he is met with a man whose love for his late wife is so great. A sign that God always has good things for every creature of His creation, in accordance with the levels needed by each.
His family was flooded with endless reeds of treasure, so it seemed to be lonely was the price to pay for him to remember that money was not always the main thing. As for this old man, in the simplicity of his life, God bestowed upon him a person whom he loved wholeheartedly, which made him ever grateful that the simplicity with which he lived did not mean that he was lacking.
“I'd like to grab all the roses, sir. Can?” juan asked after all this time he was silent.
The old man looked confused, but he still accepted Juan's request. “Originally don't throw away, yes, Mas.”
“No I'll throw away, really, sir.” Juan was convincing.
Before transporting all the roses from the basket, Juan first took out a wallet, pulled out a few pieces of money a hundred thousand and then he handed it to the old man who looked increasingly confused.
“The material is not for sale, Mas. I thought I said.” The old man took two steps back, his hands in front of his chest, giving a polite gesture of refusal.
Juan smiled, then continued to give the sheet of money he had issued to the old man. “Rezeki can not be refused.” Her speech. Then he leaned over, carrying rose stalks into his arms.
“Bapak can use the money to buy new flower seeds, plant again, harvest again and distribute again to the people.”
From hesitation, the old man then accepted Juan's money more confidently. “Thank you. I will use it to buy other flower seeds, not just roses.” And hopefully, blessing always overshadows Mas's life in the future.
The prayer and hope he did not convey directly to Juan, because he believed, the power of prayer would be more powerful if only known by himself and God.
In the afternoon, when the sky brings out a beautiful mix of orange and pink, Juan carries a rose stem in the car. Put it in the front passenger seat then he continued the journey with a more airy heart.
Seriate
