Crush On You's
Assistance

After waiting for less than an hour. Probowangi train stops at Sidoarjo station. Slowly moving then speeding through the twilight that almost entered the night. I closed my eyes for a moment. Try to weigh in and think that this decision is correct. Rather than being constantly underestimated and considered to be not independent. It all started with a fight between me and one of my sisters named Safira. Two years older than me. I have two sisters. They were named Sapphira and Anjani.

I was stunned to remember what happened a while ago. For two weeks I did not want to eat or drink properly. Mother often boiled binahong leaves for the father. It is said that the leaves are useful for patients with heart disease. It is unlikely that you have the disease. Since retirement, I have been active in the onthel bicycle community. Jani is a midwife. And he always monitors all family members for a healthy life. It's just that you sometimes clash your mouth with mbak Fira. You can certainly imagine how harsh my brother's nature is. Since becoming a principal in a private Junior High School. The war is rough as it is losing conscience. He feels more successful. Because you were just an elementary school teacher.  

Father died on Sunday morning and we waited for him to eat breakfast. But he did not come to the dining room. Jani was crying hysterically in front of my door. That man is gone. We all lost our father that morning.

The sound of notification from the information room, jolted me. That means soon to arrive at the destination. From Sidoarjo to Jember it takes about four hours. Four years ago studying in a city famous for JFC (Jember Fashion Carnaval) always made me comfortable. At least being away from Fira is quite a relief. Why that? Here's why. After four weeks, my father died. Fira seems to replace the position of father. The woman was stubborn, dark-skinned and haughty. Constantly talking rudely to me. The hope is that I will leave the house soon. The woman needed money to fund an obscure multilevel business and plunge into politics. The house will be rented.

Again, the woman scatters a lot of things. Tackling his services that helped me. That's right, I got a job because I got a recommendation from him. I think it's common. Because we are brothers. It had never been thought that he would bring up like now. It's really bad. When we were kids, we all ate in one container and shared often. But as adults everything changes because of the background of different egos and desires. One of them has to give up and accept. Fighting with my brother is really bad. So I chose to shut up and leave. Talking is no use either.

His words are so sharp. I'll close the door immediately. Toss out some books and clothes, put them in a bag. And walk out. A simple house full of childhood memories. Must fall into my brother's greedy hands. On the way I called Jani, and said goodbye and talked to Mom for a while.

There was a loud sound. Mom sobbed, as seen from the phone I heard. It felt a little sad when mom told me about the desire of Mbak Fira who was passionate to rent the house. I can't do much. There's only a little savings and a vixion bike I managed to buy. Again the motorbike letter was staying at the pawn shop, Mbak Fira who borrowed it said it would be returned soon. Not when.

As a last child, I always depended on my father and mother. They love me more than my two brothers. Ma'am Jani is more mature in attitude and very nurturing. Others with Fira are more self-centered than family. My mom and dad had their reasons for loving me more. Right where I was born, that day my father was appointed a civil servant. What a joyous thing for everyone. That every child born must bring their own sustenance.

The train stops at Jember station. I set foot and prepared to get out of the carriage. Then stop at the exit. My eyes ached a little, I immediately took the medicine drops from my pocket.

“Purwaka Wiseso! Yok opo kabare jeh?”

”Amir, slick.” I replied with a slight nod. And shake his hand.

My feet step in front of Omah mas Amir. It remains as it used to be. There was a rice field. The sound of crickets or leafhoppers breaks the silence of the night. Village area of Jamung village. The door was dark brown, the walls were yellow, there were vines green vines in the grounds. There's a Musholla next to the house. He's parked his bike.

“Come mlebu jeh!”

As soon as he entered his house. My eyes were blown away for a moment. Photos from our graduation. Graduation is the most beautiful moment of all ages. I put the bag on the white ceramic floor. And sit on a dark green L-shaped corner chair.

“Bayu has contacted me, if I can work from tomorrow afternoon.”

“So the lecturer nih his story.” Amir rests his back on the chair.”Bayu is dean at Pillar University. Hopefully you will be the Chief Prodi there.”

“Amin,” my word is quiet. “But I am currently only a substitute lecturer.”

Amir remains as old as he was. We used to have different classes. Amir entered a non-regular class because every morning he worked in the rice fields. Jayu and I entered regular classes. Bayu introduced me to her. And the evening after the magrib we often met in the square to discuss using English. Amir asked me why I was here. I also told you a few things. While enjoying the coffee that has just been brewed. As expected, his face seemed sympathetic and did not make any comment.

Tonight I prepare to teach tomorrow. Although every day accustomed to pursuing High School students, it definitely requires some preparation to teach Students. I can't wait to enter the classroom and see the faces of the agents of change and development.

Behind the window of the room was a tree. The leaves are thick sometimes heard noisy when the twigs are blown by the wind. The atmosphere is calm, cool and well worth enjoying. My heart feels free and free. Like a traveler who feels calm in the forest.

All this is thanks to the kindness of a friend. They give us shelter and work. Thanks to Amir and Bayu.