Letter to Atlanta
16. Angels hearted men

Night is a time where people will use it to rest, give physical and mind to take a break from the tired work during the day. But not for Atlanta, the man was still struggling with a pile of dirty dishes in a big sink.

Today the restaurant where he works is crowded with visitors. Perhaps the exact reason why the restaurant is crowded is because it coincides on the weekend. The typical European restaurant located in the residential complex is quite famous for its mainstay menu such as filet mignon, black angus, and goose heart, all three are presented with a beautiful presentation like a fine dining restaurant. The concept of the white building is quite mesmerizing view, by adopting the style of mansion house with large glass in each corner, the architecture of the enclosed space and semi-open balcony presents a view of lush gardens, and the, be an alternative for young people to spend time there with relatives and family.

The man was still rubbing one by one the dishes with a sponge full of foam soap, passing each sauce stain and seasoning alternately and evenly. The eyelids may have reached the point of fatigue, it is clear with a change in color there that becomes reddish. It's okay, tomorrow he will rest at home, let tonight he fight a little more to reach the finish line.

"Atlanta." The man looked up at someone's words. An adult man in a black and white chef suit complete with a hat and apron chef approached him, slapping his shoulders slowly across Atlanta with a smile.

"Too cape, gapapa, you just go home," he said gently, rubbing the back of the very proud man.

Atlanta immediately shook her head, telling her that she was fine, though the water of her face could not fool the man who was in desperate need of rest.

"You are, a hard worker. You should not work, I have reminded you from a long time ago, your job is to learn, so smart children. I'm sure your study time must be confiscated because you have to work part-time at a restaurant like this" said the man.

Atlanta only responded to the man before the sweet smile, practically making the man who served as the head chef there sigh short, patting back Atlanta's shoulder like it gave a sting of spirit before he nodded, the desire of the man to work until it is finished.

"Yes already, if it is done, then you will go to my room first. I have something to say," he said. Atlanta bowed at a glance, looking at the man who turned back to leave Atlanta.

Well, Atlanta took one plate to wash it back, cleaned it out of soap with cold water that automatically came out of the sink faucet, he said, then store it on a dry fryer that is twice the size of the dish dryer in his house.

In addition to washing dishes, the man also often helps the chefs prepare dishes if it is empty time. Little by little the knowledge that Atlanta gets from the kitchen is able to make itself more independent, not relying on anyone to just fill his stomach.

The night is almost late, the visitors one by one leave the place they had stopped to spend the night which was filled with stars scattered in the sky. Atlanta was no exception, she took off the rubber gloves she wore to wash the dishes, she started to breathe a sigh of relief, her work was done. Atlanta immediately went to the medium-sized room, which was at the end of the kitchen.

Gts ... Tok

Cclek

The man leaned slightly, the adult man sitting in his big chair as the head chef now raised his head.

"Just go in, Ata." He reached out, hinting Atlanta to sit in the available seat in front of him.

"Where is the job today? Cape, huh?"

Atlanta took a small memo in her pants pocket, writing it with a pen that was about the same size as the memo.

The man chuckled for a while, joined in with a smile as Atlanta threw a smile at him, then said, "You're a great kid, Ata. Oh yeah, you pay today. This, the money, is calculated first" said the man, giving a white envelope containing Atlanta's wages for a month's work.

"And this, I deliberately make you dinner, baby if the ingredients in the kitchen are not used, if stored tomorrow he is afraid it is not fresh anymore." He gave Atlanta a pack of Styrofoam.

Atlanta accepted it politely. Really, he was very happy, even though it was not much, but he tried to get enough of it as best he could.

"Thank you, sir, for hiring me here. I'm so grateful, I'll work as well as I can,"

After reading it, she smiled gently gazing towards Atlanta, then nodded. "Sama-sama, I am also glad that you want to work here. It's late, you can go home now. Careful, yeah."

Atlanta moved from her seat, shaking the man's hand with an excited look before he finally disappeared into the wooden door of the room. With happy steps, Atlanta swung her legs towards the parking lot of employees who were already very quiet, approaching her bicycle which she deliberately parked close to the towering iron gate.

With a moderate speed, Atlanta pedaled a bicycle to block the city's downhill streets. Every now and then he stared at the beautiful sky that night, the full moonlight as if to irrigate his journey with its bright light, the light of which was, observing every glittering star that witnessed the formation of beautiful arches in both corners of the Atlanta lips. The rumbling of the night wind and the cold that pierced the recesses seemed to be completely ignored and the jacket wrapped around his body could not dispel completely.

Coinciding with him passing through the ranks of roadside shophouses, the look in his eyes stared directly at the shabby figure sleeping in front of one of the grocery stores, with one cardboard on the base. Atlanta immediately parked the bike not far from there, approaching the old man in his 80s who was sleeping hugging his knees.

Instantly, the grandfather awoke from his sleep when he heard Atlanta's footsteps being made almost very slowly. Atlanta smiled, sitting cross-legged align the position with the grandfather who had already sat down after knowing his arrival.

Grandpa moved his hand.

"Why haven't you come home yet?"

Atlanta immediately replied. "It's over to work, Cake. I also want to meet Grandpa. Here, Ata there's a little food from the restaurant." Atlanta gave her the plastic bag she was carrying.

"Grandfather ate?"

Grandfather shook his head briefly. Ungoverned, Atlanta opened a styrofoam, showing a fairly luxurious meal when combined with a white plate in the style of a five-star restaurant.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you? Come on, we'll eat together."

Atlanta smiled again, responding to Grandpa's invitation to share the food. The place may not match the dinner menu, but at least, Atlanta feels suitable there. Sharing sustenance with people who are the same as themselves, slightly reduces the burden that may be equally felt.