Firefields
Rain, Just Keep It

SINCE Jauhari handed over the responsibilities of his clove fields to Mat Yusi, he rarely visited the fields. Just at a certain moment and usually it's every Sunday with his wife and their two children, Zian and Princess.

They're in school with Patra. However, the Princess was still sitting in first class. They already knew that Patra would work in her parents' clove fields.

Suspicious movements out there make Jauhari not so tidy up sheets of paper scattered on his desk.

From the living room, wearing only a sarong and singlet t-shirt, the view of Jauhari hit the dim curtain cloth that covered the glass window.

Jauhari approached, snapping the curtains and surprised for a moment. His left hand immediately grabbed the door panel. Just one tap, the cold air out there urged in like wanting to tell about someone whose body was shivering due to the torrential rain.

“Patra..! Why don't you knock on the door?” Jauhari took a quick step towards the room where his wife piled up all the clothes before rubbing.

After finding Zian's t-shirt and shorts and sarong, Jauhari grabbed a towel hanging behind the door and took it outside.

“Dry your body,” Jauhari handed the towel without moving from where he stood.

Although hesitant, Patra took off her shirt. He began to dry his hair, face, neck and then alternately swept both arms of the hand. Busy drying made Patra unaware when Jauhari noticed the remaining bruises on his stomach.

The white shirt fits perfectly on Patra's body. Only a small part of his arm was raised upwards making some of his biceps muscles visible.

The smell of clothes fragrant is also faintly smelled making Patra imagine if he became Zian. How comfortable it is to have parents who can meet all the needs of his life.

“You can catch a cold if you do not immediately change your pants,” reprimand Jauhari.

Clumsy Patra immediately wrapped the lower part of her body with a sheath. He took off his wet trousers and replaced them with shorts. After everything was done, he immediately cleaned up all the clothes that were scattered on the floor.

“Let the Princess wash it.”

Patra was fixated on hearing the offer that he thought was so strange. He was used to washing his own clothes. Even if her mother was washing, it was only once in a while when Patra was really lazy.

It may be that Jauhari's offer is just a small talk, Patra thought. He realized that it was a lot of trouble. It would be more troublesome if the Princess had to wash her clothes. After all, he did not know well who the Princess was.

Holding the giggles, Patra took her clothes away and squeezed them repeatedly. The clothes are then placed in the corner of the house building.

“You should postpone it for a few more hours until the rain subsides,” said Jauhari inviting Patra into the living room.

When I left the house the weather was cloudy. However, Patra did not want to be impressed to ignore his promise to come in the morning.

The sooner, the more work he could do in the clove fields. He also hugged his father to the crossroads, after which he continued on foot.

People can predict the weather, but no one can tell when it will rain. Just as Patra was looking at the clouds, a single rain of water hit her face. Shortly after, it rained like it was aiming at his entire body. Patra finally ran, between sweat and rain water indistinguishable.

Floor tiles made of marble felt cold on the soles of Patra's feet. The rest of the rainwater on the soles of his feet left marks on the yellowish-white tiles.

Patra threw her ass over the soft sofa while watching some flies fly around the remaining wet footprints.

Jauhari immediately closed the door to reduce the cold in the room. Patra's attitude that looks stiff makes Jauhari immediately sit next to his best friend's child.

“You sure you're cured?”

Patra had expected from the beginning to get such a question. Although sometimes there was still pain left wrapped around his stomach, he had decided to start working today.

“Mmm, sure,” hesitates Patra answered her.

“Don't forget to take medicine from Puskesmas yesterday, you should also compress with warm water to heal quickly,” Saran Jauhari keeps the feeling of not having the heart to let his best friend's child work with a sick state.

Even so, he could not change Patra's mind to cancel his intention to work in the fields. Yesterday he had seen for himself the hardness of the child's heart when persuading him to stay in school. Working in clove fields is a requirement if he wants to stay in school.

Patra slowly fingered her pants pocket. He just remembered keeping the medicine from the Puskesmas there. Hopefully not wet, Patra thought regretting not following her mother's advice to wrap the medicine with a plastic bag when she left.

“Maybe you already know that your father and I have been friends for a long time. We were born in the same village. If you want, you can come with us sometime back there. At the very least, you can meet some relatives who may not have heard from your father.”

Patra remembered something. The words ‘home’ do sound foreign in his ears. His father never offered that.

He remembered the old times when he was asked by his father to write a letter. A letter that was never sent. A letter that always tells the good news with great joy.

It was a long time ago and he did not ask who the letter would be addressed to. Perhaps it was a letter to go home that he could never understand.

Patra still wants to hear a lot of stories from Jauhari. However, that hope was in vain when Jauhari inquired about his father's current whereabouts. Patra also told her that her father was going to meet Yudha.

“Hopefully your father can finish his affairs smoothly.” Looking back at the window, the rain was still raining. He hoped that Sabran would not miss the task this time and immediately reported everything.

“You don't have to worry. Your father must be fine!” Jauhari then left Patra alone in the living room.

The sound of rain grains on the roof tile of Jauhari's house makes Patra nervous. There was nothing he could do but look at the puddle of water from behind the window.

He imagined his father was pedaling a bicycle under the rain. There was a pity that quietly slipped. However, every time he recalled the events of yesterday, that annoyance appeared again.

Borrowing money from Yudha to pay the tuition and ending up in a heartbreaking event left Patra devastated.

He felt entitled to know everything planned for him, including deciding his own life path. Like his desire to work in the clove fields owned by Jauhari. The intention arises because he feels mature and has the right to make life choices.

Patra was still drowning in a long daydream and was unaware when the Princess came from the kitchen carrying a plate filled with food. He only realized when he heard the sound of plates hitting the glass table. Patra turned her body as before while tidying up her seat.

Although it was one school, only this time Patra saw the Princess up close. Especially when the Princess looked at him with a smile. Patra suddenly misbehaved. The daydream about his father's words was gone. He noticed the Princess as she placed the dishes on the table.

During school, Patra rarely paid attention to her female friends. Especially the class.

At recess, he prefers to hang out with the friends of the football team. He once liked one of his classmates.

However, when he found out that Bambang, a friend who had been in charge of guarding the goal also approached the same woman, Patra chose to hide his feelings.

“Mump is still warm, please eat,” bargain Princess with soft voice.

“I.iya. Thanks,” said Patra. “You fried it?” Patra made small talk to cover up her nervousness.

The princess only replied with a smile. “This time is free, tomorrow pay,” jokes Princess while attaching the tip of her hijab to the shoulder. “Do you want me to accompany?”

Patra doesn't know how to answer. “E..e..e I don't think I can spend it alone.” The words spontaneously came out of his mouth. “Emm...I mean it's not polite if everything is spent,” Patra just realized his words sounded disrespectful. He hides his shame.

“Then I went back a little while,” replied the Princess who wanted to laugh at Patra's behavior.

"Geez, why haven't I been watching her all this time? Rain, just keep going!" bathin Patra's.