Hansa & Geeta
XLV & XLVI Chapter

“So how many girls asked for your number, Han?” Om Dien stood beside me with a bottle of soda.

Two days ago we came back from the beach. Thankfully, no trouble happened there.

I'm laughing a little. “More than one hundred.”

Om's eyes widened. “Joking doang right you? Not serious, right? More than a hundred? This lying. Definitely lying. Lying, right, Han? It may not be so. Impossible. Joking right? Yes right?” it shook my body.

“Iya! Where anyone asks for a number.” My laughter is getting more ticklish.

The breath goes back to normal. “Kalo there is a possibility. But not until a hundred. Are you an artist?”

“But I'm the author, Om.”

Om speechless. “Iya anyway yes. Well, less famous are you, Han.”

I laughed again. “Udah ah. I'm the one who never showed face to the public.”

“Oh... but feel famous is yes,” tease Om with annoying tone.

“Must be proud of yourself Om. If we are not proud, how would people be proud. Dream as high as possible.”

Sipping his sodas, Om replied quickly. “Kalo altitude ati-ati. He will be sick later. Ready ladder yes, Han.”

I'm shaking. Just-there's. Put both hands in the pocket of the pants. The air is pretty cold tonight. It's also in the rainy season.

“Still see your grandmother's photo. Why the hell?” He reopened his voice.

I've been standing looking at the big framed photo that stuck to the wall of the living room since half an hour ago. Grandma with a simple white European dress. Her bun hair had turned white in the photo.

I remember once we changed the picture in this frame when I was eight. I forgot what photo was on display there before this one of Grandma's.

“Kangen aja.” I put my shoulders down.

But Om ignored my original answer and said, “Still thinking the same dream of yours?”

Om's question made me hold my breath. “It looks like.”

“Kayakya?” Om put the bottle of soda that is only half left on the table. Then I sat down to look at Grandma's photo with me.

“Honest yes. According to Om, you don't look like your grandmother. In addition to your eyes and nose, your face is Asian. What about your grandfather? Maybe you look like him?” Om commented without anyone asking while looking at me and the photo of Grandma alternately.

“Goru. I don't remember a picture of Grandpa when he was young. It's just as fragile as it is, and his face is more or less like my father's. I've seen it before, which was video call.”

The day after we got back from the beach, Dad called. He said he wanted to know my condition. It's also my fault that I've rarely called 'home people' since I've lived in this house.

“Oh, yes it is...” Om remembering. “But you don't look like your father either. If according to Om, the shape of your father's face is firmly that, typical of Caucasians. Only his skin is not as white as your grandmother's, and his hair is also black.”

Om hissing. “You know, softly that's the look on his face. Typical Asian. Don't you pickle boy, Han.”

I laugh. “But I'm of Asian blood too. I look like my mom. Many say so too. But, I think some say I look like Grandpa. If it's not the wrong part of the eye, I forgot how clear.”

Goody. Now I'm curious about Grandpa's face as a young man.

Om nodding. “Om so curious about your Grandpa's face. Anyway you're a pretty perfect European-Asian mix, Han. Yes, European products rarely fail.”

“Kalo born in Indonesia what is called European product also?” I chuckle.

Um snap his finger. “As long as there are bulls, the designation ‘mister’ is still suitable for you.”

“Again the price of rice uduk suddenly expensive, still in the category bule ya?” gurauku.

I didn't realize Geeta was watching from the TV room. Until suddenly the morning when the schedule to clean the house arrived.

The whole room door was opened. No room was locked at all. Because there is already occupying, Aunt is no longer responsible for the cleanliness of this house. So the three of us worked together to clean it up.

“Geeta? Can you help me get the trash bag on the second floor?” my door from the living room. Imagining going up again and down again many times already makes me tired.

Too bad there was no answer. He's on the second floor, he won't listen. I decided to go into the TV room. Geeta is not where she was assigned.

“Geeta? You where? Your job is not done yet, right. Still a mess,” called me, when a noise from inside Grandma's room sounded.

Lights lit. I turned my head to that room. What the hell is he doing there? Didn't I tell you I was gonna clean Grandma's room?

“Geeta, kamu—” I looked up as soon as I saw a woman in style in front of the mirror in Grandma's white dress. Dresses in the picture of the living room frame.

“Ah, Hannie?”

...…...

An hour ago, the room facing the swamp caught Geeta's attention. But he refrained from going there.

Hannie said the room itself would be done.

“I will settle this room. Geeta the same TV room the living room. Um we go upstairs first. The kitchen later. Page sometime again.” That's about Hannie's orders.

But, Geeta was eager to look inside. He let out a rough sigh and glanced at the second floor which was adorned with the sound of Hannie and Om Dien footsteps.

They seem busy. It doesn't matter if he visits the room for a while. He swore it wouldn't take long, just looking around.

Geeta stepped her feet slowly into the calm brown room.

Wide, and quiet. Geeta could feel the same aura that Nonna Sophie emitted from this room. The smell too, was different from the other rooms in this house.

Geeta's eyes were fixed on a large cupboard with unique carvings on its surface. He was lucky to know that his closet door was unlocked.

“Uwaahhh...” Geeta sees a row of pretty dresses in the closet. One of them is the dress in the photo that Hannie keeps looking at since returning from the beach.

Geeta pulls out the dress, and puts it on. She was in style in front of a large mirror near the closet. Following the style that Nonna Sophie did in the photo.

“Geeta you—”

Geeta turned her head quickly when she heard Hannie's voice behind her. He was too stylish to be unaware of the man's presence.

“Ah, Hannie?”

Geeta was ready to be scolded by the man. But the reality captured by Geeta's eyes was much more shocking. He's not preparing himself for this.

Hannie shed tears.

Straight, from both eyes. Flowing profusely. Geeta doesn't feel Hannie is really looking at her. It's like being in another dimension.

“Nana...”.

_____________

Xlvi Chapter

If the memory could be neatly arranged on the bookshelf, maybe my heart would work more casually.

...…...

“Nana...”.

He's right in front of me. I obviously miss him a lot. But why does my chest hurt?

“Hannie? Already awake?”

I nodded slowly. “Nana where to?! I'm looking for Nana from earlier. Dad said he goru Nana where.”

Nana laughed and walked over. “I... never go anywhere.”

My forehead. “But, but, I feel like I haven't seen Nana.” in a long time My voice vibrates.

Nana was just smiling. His wrinkled hands caressed my face. Removing traces of tears that are on the cheeks.

“Why crying? Your handsome is gone if you cry like this, Hannie.”

Crying out? I also realized that I had been crying since. Why yes? Why am I crying?

Nana pulled back her hand and grabbed me. I felt my body shrink. Eh? Since when was my body big? I am this high. I'm seven years old.

“Your birthday is soon.”

I smiled and wrapped my hands around Nana's waist. “Iya. I'll be eight years soon. Nana don't forget to give gifts huh?”

Instantly Nana took off her embrace and looked at me in wonder. “Eight years? Hannie, you delirious?”

“Eh?”

PLAQUE!!!

I realized as soon as Geeta slapped me in the face with all her might. I know that because next to my cheek feels really hot. A swelling huh?

“HAN-NIE!!”

He was preparing to slap me again because I still had not given any response. Quickly I held his hand.

“Geeta, Geeta! Stop the. Why did you slap me?”

The moss-green haired girl instantly shed tears. “Geeta thought Hannie possessed!!”

He fell down and sobbed himself. Wait, possessed?

Suddenly my head felt heavy. Was I really possessed? It was like seeing Grandma. He said something but I can't remember it.

“Hannie!” geeta Whine. Still sitting on the floor.

“Hm? Why?” A smile had to appear on my face.

“Do not get into trouble again! Geeta is afraid to know!” Geeta cupped her face red with overflowing emotions. What exactly is going on?

Not wanting to prolong the matter, I pulled Geeta's arm to stand up. “Do not do that. Let's get up, I wasn't possessed. Do you know where to try those words?”

Still sobbing, Geeta replied in a stammer. “From Om! Then, if not possessed what dong?!”

“Eh? Emmm.. ketchup! Yes, kecape-an.”

Luckily Geeta swallowed my unreasonable excuses raw. Sorry Geeta, if this chat continues my head will get sicker.

“Lagian, why are you messing around here too. I told you this room let me take care of it. So, this is Grandma's shirt why are you wearing?”

Looks like my nagging managed to stop the flow of her tears. “Geeta just curious. From yesterday Hannie sad to continue to see the photo of Nonna. So...” Geeta stopped her amulet. Makes me even more curious.

“So?”

Those green eyes that were covered in contact lenses did not dare to look at me. Why anyway? What was?

“Geeta. Hannie kayak kangen very similar Nonna.” The volume of the girl's voice shrank at the end of the sentence.

If that was the reason...did he also influence my dreams at that time? Remembering, I did not accidentally fall asleep next to him.

And if that's true, then maybe it's Geeta's memory? Does that mean Geeta existed before I was born?

There's so much. Too much until I'm afraid to forget any of those questions.

“Hannie?” geeta's gentle cry breaks my daydream.

“Geeta, you... when did you first meet Grandma?”

Geeta held her chin. Keep in mind. “Lamaaa. Geeta also met Han—”

The han?

“Eh, no. Raj-raje's. Geeta meets Kahkek Raje.” He looks wrong. Han, who does that mean?

“Han. That Han, who? Raje's? My granddaddy? The name contains Han elements too huh?” I remember Grandpa's name was just Rajendra.

Geeta nodded quickly. “Not! Name's Raje! Raje!”

“Obviously you want to call Han-what was that. What do you mean Han-who is he?!” Unconsciously my breath was puffed up. I don't know why this is? I'm getting more, emotional?

Surprisingly the pain in my head did not go away either. It's getting worse.

“Hannie..” Geeta's hand shook holding the edge of my shirt.

Hahh. Ever since I had that dream, I've been feeling like my head's gone awry.

“Sorry. I'm really ketapean. Can I stay alone?” While ruining my face, I saw a disappointed expression mixed with Geeta's vague worry.

He came out with a shaky step. In that instant, both of my legs felt like they were losing their strength. I'm sitting on Grandma's bedside.

“Morning gini is a strange thing. What do you want to be Hansa?” I laugh at myself.

Sighs long. I look at the ceiling of the room with ancient European-style carvings as decoration. In the past, I didn't play in Grandma's room often. But the smell of this room, makes me nostalgic.

...…...

[15 years ago]

“Sayang...” Mother rubbed my back gently wrapped in a blanket. “Sleep yuk is already night.”

I'm shaking. Refusing. “I want to wait for Dad.” There is clearly a sigh of frustration Mother. How many times have I been today?

Since coming home from the beach with Uncle, I haven't stopped waiting for Dad in the living room. Sitting on the couch, even sleeping here. Alone only.

Sometimes my aunt accompanies me. I've been like this for three days. Although I didn't care at first, but after thinking about it I think my words have been written to Dad.

“Later you are sick. Waiting in the room and in the living room will make no difference.”

“Gamau!” sentakku. “I want to wait for Dad! If you are in the room, you can't see me and go straight away again, Mother!”

My tears flowed without permission. Ah, suck. Though I was most anti-crying in front of Mother. He'll show me an expression I hate.

Mother knitted her eyebrows, then lowered her head. Tuh. That's the expression I hate the most. I don't like to see Mother sad. Moreover, the cause is myself.

“Why are you even sad?! No one needs Mother tangisin! I... I...” My voice began to shake and my tears grew louder.

Ohhhhhh!!! Damn bad! You call yourself a man, Hansa?!

“I just want to see Dad for a while! Mother don't follow! It's a men's business.”

Hearing that, Mother's smile was again seen. It's not a smile I like, but it's much better.

“What does that man have to do? Hm?” He broke my hair until it fell apart. “And you are seven years old. But you're talking so old, Hannie.”

Mother's naughtiness makes me riled. “Follow! There was a Mother who slept in the room! I'm a man so my body must be stronger! If Mother is here, then even Mother who is sick.”

“Oh yes? You think Mother is that fragile?”

I grunt. “Iya! Mother is a woman.”

“Since when have women been definitely weaker than men?” Mother carved her deathly smile. If I had smiled so obliquely, I would have lost arguing with him.

“P-Just like that from there.” My voice's shrinking. Fear first. Afraid defeat.

Mother laughed a little and broke my hair again. “Smazy and smart Mother's child. It's true boys should protect the girls.” Mother took a momentary breath.

“But it doesn't mean girls are always weaker than boys. Understood it? Mommy is sure you understand. You are the most intelligent child of Mother.”

I clasped his hand that was still playing with my hair. “I'm Mother's only child.”

“Eh? Yes, yes too?” She laughs. “But if you have adek, want?”

I'm pouting. Worrying. Many of my friends have brothers and sisters. They said it wasn't fun.

“Gamau!” break up in the end.

“Loh, why?” Mother asked again.

“Kata temenku have brother nyebelin. Mother will not love me again. Just love the same adek.”

Mother did not seem surprised by my explanation. He smiled even wider. Views soften. “Iya yes. You must think so. But the reality is clearly different. Mother's affection, will not decrease at all even if you have ten sisters though. You are still Mother's son, baby.”

That pitch-black haired woman by the boat, pulled my head closer to her face. Then kiss my forehead.

“Honest. No one will be able to replace you, Hansa.”

My heart was blown up at that moment. Mother called my name, real name. Not a nickname, in a gentle way. Usually he calls out my real name with a furious and loud tone.

I hugged Mother back. ‘Mother is also irreplaceable.’ I really want to say that. But my tongue is muddy.

“We go to the room? If Dad comes back, Mommy will wake you up.”

“Promise me?”

Mother smiled thinly. “Yes. Of course, Honey.”

.

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