12 Badoets
Nem

November 2021

Boiled cassava has been presented on a plate made of zinc with a floral motif in the middle, reflecting thin white smoke in the air. Wildan sprinkled refined sugar on it. Although it was still hot, his mouth and stomach were no longer able to withstand hunger. He greedily stuffed the boiled cassava into his mouth until his lips appeared to be hot kamit.

"Ohhhhh." Wildan opened his mouth wide. White smoke billowed between his rows of teeth that looked pure white.

Jawara looked fitter, after Wildan bathed him in warm water. The wounds on the chicken's body, too, have been taped with powder. Now Jawara basked in the middle of the front yard with his beak that occasionally poked the ground.

"Hey Jawara's? Want my good food? Boiled cassava with granulated sugar?" wildan said while throwing boiled cassava right in front of Jawara. Unfortunately, the chicken did not look interested, but instead was engrossed in pecking a few insects in front of him.

"Wooohhh, bloated pits! Can't be different where the food is good, which is not worth consuming." Wildan shook his head feeling annoyed himself.

In the distance, someone walked closer. Her graceful footsteps, made Wildan stunned. Wearing a black dress with a matching long skirt. Also a gray scarf appears to fit around his neck.

The morning was soaked, in Wildan's eyes it turned bright. Even the perfume scent of the figure walking towards his house was already smelled though the distance was still quite far away. The scent that Wildan memorized, had not changed in the past few years. The figure that still makes Wildan's chest pounding.

The angel was named Ika. Monkey love, also Wildan's first love. A woman who would give everything to Wildan. In the end, they don't have each other. Now the woman came again, either to comfort Wildan, to treat lara or to add pain.

"Wildan," called Ika, as she stood before the man with her mouth full of boiled cassava.

"Ah, Ika. Want cassava?" Wildan subconsciously thrust the boiled cassava that was on the plate. A spontaneous action is performed. It was as if his body was moving on its own covering a face that was met with red and his heart that was beating faster than usual.

"I just ate. I also offer my condolences for the departure of Mr. Umar," said Ika with a sad face.

Wildan immediately turned his face away. Do not want to linger swimming in the brownish clear eyeballs that are in front of him. At first the eye became a cure for the thirst of longing, but over time felt tight drown Wildan's heart. Those sparkling eyes he could never have, however much he wanted them to.

"How are you doing?" ask Ika. He was still standing before Wildan.

Wildan was silent. His heart was sad, not believing that the woman in front of him was asking for news. Obviously Wildan was sick, falling to the bottom when he found out Ika chose to marry another man when Wildan was placed in custody. Then he came and asked, How are you? Wildan's face was flushed.

"I brought food for you. Let me put it on the plate," said Ika, walking into the house.

Wildan gasped in shock to see the beautiful woman enter his house without being awkward. He immediately stood up and followed Ika who had reached the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" ask Wildan. I'm just gonna shut up about Wildan. He was busy picking up the dishes and taking out his luggage. It turns out that martabak telor is still warm. He deftly arranged the martabak on the plate.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Wildan grabbed Ika's arm.

"Martabak eat your favorite food, I just prepare it," replied Ika briefly.

"What the fuck? Whatdoyouwant? Why are you acting like this?" Wildan glares.

Suddenly Ika's eyeballs shook. There are clear grains that drip from the corner. The woman wept, and dropped her body on Wildan's shoulders.

"What's wrong? Wh why? I don't understand. You shouldn't be like this. You belong to people" said Wildan Iirih.

"Let me put it this way, just for a moment" Ika said among her sobs.

...****************...

Dusk comes with a red color at the eastern end of the sky. Wildan sat pensively on the front porch. All day he was just daydreaming, thinking about Ika. The woman came without being asked and left without being prevented.

Wildan's mind was full of questions. What's Ika coming for? Why is she crying? Why does it look so sad?

A slow clap shocked Wildan. Without him realizing, Mr. Anwar was already sitting next to him. The old man smiled showing his cheeks full of wrinkles signs of aging.

"Surup. Not good daydreaming" said Mr. Anwar.

"He came here" said Wildan. Somehow he wanted to tell a story. He wants to be heard.

"He was crying" Wildan continued.

"As far as I know, Ika was repatriated by her husband" said Mr. Anwar.

A short sentence uttered from Mr. Anwar's mouth like lightning in broad daylight to Wildan.

"Why?" pekik Wildan was curious. Mr. Anwar shook his head slowly.

"A sign for you Dan, that you may forgive Ika. In fact, in your story you are not the only one who suffers, Ika the same." Mr. Anwar patted Wildan on the shoulder.

Wildan was silent for a while. All this time he always blamed Ika for the breakdown of their relationship. In fact, I also suffered.

"Life feels unfair, sir," said Wildan.

"Who said? Life is fair Dan. Everything we plant, must one day we harvest," argued Mr. Anwar quickly.

"Repair yourself, fix your life then your future will definitely be better" continued Mr. Anwar.

Wildan again pensively digested the words of Mr. Anwar. This time he listened. Usually Wildan always denied it and considered Mr. Anwar only a chatty parent.

"Oh yes Sir. By the way the money 50 thousand prints in 91 approximately if sold how much is it here? I have a plan to pit myself against fate in the big city. So it takes capital," said Wildan remembered the old blue money relics of the Father.

Mr. Anwar was silent. Wildan turned his head, and had a chance to see the unusual expression of his teacher. The face that looks frightened with both hands scratching the thighs.

"Sir?" call Wildan hesitating.

"I'm going home for a minute. Some are left behind" said Mr. Anwar in a hurry.

For the second time in a day, Wildan was left alone with a big question mark on his brain.

"Squeaky. What the hell is wrong with today? Everyone comes and goes as they please" Wildan murmured as he watched Mr. Anwar walk on the front page.

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