My daughter
The morning sun began to reveal itself and tried to say hello to me shine through gaps in the foliage above me. I was transfixed as he continued to stare at the tombstone. Epitaph it does not seem so obvious. Because it is written that he was carving 14 years ago when the bodies that have names Rahardian Purwanto was buried underneath. But that name is still clear in my heart. Mas pur .. soon our grandchildren will be born .. I do not know how to greet its birth with a smile or a cry. But definitely crying was born and grains clear it rolled perfectly on my eyelids moistened the burial ground would not want me to leave quickly.
That afternoon the sun had shown prowess, as if to devour the heat of my skin. I trace the dusty street, while my eyes staring at the street around me, although not much passionately I put nails on average had rusted to the basket lusuhku. Nails itself around the magnetic iron stick that has my handheld while traveling along 15 km. I think enough pakuku hunting these days, I see my little basket containing nails had been halved. I immediately turned around, my legs did not wait to reach the goal because of fatigue from the morning my body weight support. From a distance had seemed a fairly large house painted brown. Although the distance was apparent bustle in it.
Upon arrival I entered the gates of a well-built middle-aged man approached me, his eyes fixed directly to the basket. Darmo skipper, that I and dozens of other nail scavenger male calling it a thick mustache. Darmo skipper weigh a nail in my basket. While frowned, eyes Squire Darmo continue to pay attention to the scales that have demonstrated a number.
"Today tumben get a little Rat! Only 1 kg. 'Said Squire Darmo who sari mulutunya smoke billowing skirt * k.
"Yes Juragan more difficult now." I replied.
Darmo Squire from his pocket pulled out some sheets of thousands and gave it to me. With a smile vertices along my thanks ephemeral leave Squire Darmo. I pocketed three bills in the thousands today the results of my labor. My goal now is to stop the hospital, my stomach was already noble issued rhythm sign to be filled immediately. RS stop of the day was pretty crowded, but none of them who were at the stop seemed to be manyantap food.
I looked into a wagon at the end of the stop. Soun, cakwe, cabbage and other ingredients soup maker is still neatly packed in a glass bertutupkan city, appeared to be not shrink. At her side sat a man dressed in a white long sleeve. The man that I married 13 years ago it was still being observed vehicles passing in front of him.
Expands his smile when he caught sosokku. Greet me, mas Ipung that's the name of my husband got up from sitting. Hand deftly concocting a bowl of soup for me. Without orders, I immediately took a comfortable sitting position and handmade soup devour my people love.After filling the belly I immediately rushed home to fulfill my duty as a housewife taking care of the house Mas Ipung can not come home with me because Soto merchandise has not been sold out. I can not force him. Indeed, that's how menafkahiku. Although not his own, I salute the courage of my husband menjajakkan wares. Not infrequently Mas Ipung have to go home late at night after spending the merchandise as well as meet the deposit money.
My body has been at the shelter where I and my family. Not worth it feels a thatched roof, paved and walled cubicle land is called home. My hands were busy folding scattered on the bed. Charcoal to flame me who had been already kindled. Soon I heard footsteps heading into my hut. Along with the open doors in some parts already started to look fragile. From behind the door I see a tall girl.
Rahardian princess girl's name. Daughter out of my uterus 14 years ago. Daughter who had become orphans up to the age of 1 year. The daughter who was forced to forget his dream of having to leave school since the age of 10 years. Daughter who now fills his days with home into a laundry worker Mrs. Irma neighbor. My daughter who has always lived in concern.Forgive mother daughter ..
The cold air stung my bones. Clock showed 5 am. My daughter was still asleep with sarong worn yng bind her. Mas Ipung was busy splitting firewood. I achieved my little basket, rushed me to go after my companion asked for the blessing. The sky is still black dark, round object that of juah shined still in the sky. Morning breeze made me even more pressed a bandage on my jacket. I walk alone in the early morning. Occasional vehicle passing beside me. Deserted my taste, but there was no other choice, I had to walk the streets hoping luck with me until full basket containing nails. I still have to walk the streets in order to connect my life and the people I love.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm. I turn my body, in front of me stood a chubby middle-aged woman. His eyes stared at me as if to melumatku exhausted. Women's shorts chubby hips, his mouth muttering issued harsh words that pierced my heart. Occasionally the fat lady pointing not berdayaku face. I do not understand what causes fat woman was so angry at me.
I do not have time to ask about what makes it pleasing to 2 burly men dressed in black and white. From the writing on his shirt I know two men were named Amir and Budi. By them I was taken to an area measuring 3 × 3 meters. Along the way to a new post which I know is a security post, the fat lady still showered with various insults.
I sat in a chair, in front of me sat Budi any one man who took earlier. The fat lady sat right next to me. With grouchy woman was telling the whole emotional to me to Budi. The new explanation I know of that I often accused of stealing clothes drying in front of his house. I can not think why should I? if only I were always passing in front of the fat woman. Like not know the word satisfied, it continues memakiku chubby woman.
My mouth could only silently, occasionally answering questions posed by Budi. Budi pull out a piece of paper, and he decorated it with paper. After writing pen is enough thrust at me. I dab my signature on it, right above my name Ratmi. I do not understand why women Cashmere accusing it as dirty work without have the evidence. Justice is a dream for marginalized people like me.
I breathe deep the air of freedom. It feels like a prisoner out of jail. Exhaled breath spiritual burdens that crush my chest. With unsteady steps trace my way back home. The spirit of hard work in my chest disappeared without a trace secant carried away by disappointment that accumulate. Ku hempaskan my body on the bed. I just close my eyes hope to find soon a beautiful dream in it. Long closed my eyes, my ears catch the sound of a sign that there is another soul under the roof of my hut.
I go the source of the voice. I find Mas Ipung stunned in my daughter's bedside. Her eyes catch my presence, strange flavor emanating from his gaze. A smile in the corner of his mouth.Showed time at 10 which requires his body was at home Mr.Basuki prepared a dish of soup to dijajakkan. My reluctant to complicate. I want to be spoiled while excite emotion embraced my soul with her daughter on the bed ..
Kembai my eyes awake. I met myself in a state unfit. Pull my sarong to cover the vital parts of my body. Longokkan my head against the door to catch the situation around the room my daughter. Precisely in the living room in front of me, my daughter never got a brother from my womb sat stunned. Kalin hands were busy with wool and knitting needles in his right. My daughter standing. The longer growing alone. Streaks beauty when she began to look at his face. Solid body contains, leather body olive adds charm him. Just like me 15 years ago. I did not ever expect also the same fate as me.
Absolutely not. My eyes are turning to enjoy the rest of him. There are unusual from the body of her daughter seusiannya. Ripe breasts look bigger and harden. Abdominal bulging womb like the excess fat. I'm the perfect woman who also never felt the strangeness of my body and the fetus fruitful womb. 1. I am a childless mother approached my daughter. I want to prove I thought that I just missed. I can answer from her tiny lips. My heart stopped beating. Reotku hut seemed to bury me alive. My daughter called the 2 words. Mas Ipung and 5 months. My tears could not blow up because it has teruras exhausted. I could not keep silent, my foot step with the rest of the power that I have.
Ms Pur I'm on your side this time. Grieve with me. I wipe the headstone was like rubbing your head Mas Pur. I continue my steps for the sake of my daughter and my granddaughter in her womb. But I do not think I could, I could not throw my body when large objects.Terjerembabku on dusty roads. Rancid smell blood from head cavity. Black spots and blurred adorn the head. Many people around me. I do not understand what they are doing, what they were talking about. My heart is racing, suddenly slowed down and eventually just white.
"Mas Pur greeted me at the gate of your heaven."
Short Story Essay: Isnaini Agustine
Facebook: Ainy Hidalgo (Isnaini Agustine)