Marry Bening
Things You Don't Want to Remember

"Darling, are you all right?"

"Sweet, are you okay?"

We were both anxious - Me and Frendian - scrambling over each other's questions after Bening finished spewing out his entrails. Wh why? What the hell's going on?

"I'm fine" wiped the tears and washed his face and mouth.

"Well, how come you vomited? Is Mbok Narti's cooking a problem?" I grumbled while wiping it.

"Don't soudzon the same Mbok Narti, Mas. I'm not feeling well anymore" she reminded me.

"Make God, I told you from earlier so you could go upstairs and rest" I said, then held a clear seat on both arms.

"Mas!" his screeches. "I can walk alone."

"Your face is very pale. You're sick, Yank." Regardless of the two people around us, I brought Bening up.

"Honey," Erina's call stopped me. "My birthday party's in a minute, I want you to announce our wedding plans." I looked at him furiously. What the fuck is this Erina? "There is no rejection!" firmly final.

"We'd better talk about that later. And lo, Yan. You better go home." Without looking back, I continued to bring Bening to the room.

Noiseless and without another roar, Bening fell silent. He did not even comment on Erina's remarks. Does she not care about me who is her own husband, if engaged to another woman? Why do these trials keep coming?

"Mas I'm going to go to the water first." It was clear when I was about to take off the sandals on her feet.

"You want to accompany me?" I'm worried that you're teasing him.

"Not to." Blowingly avoiding me. I smiled seeing his behavior.

I waited long enough to get out of the bathroom. The sound of water still burning. I couldn't sit around waiting for him to come out. I don't know what he was doing in there, considering he was vomiting with a paled face.

The sound of an open door undoes my intention to knock on the bathroom door. A feeling of relief when I saw my wife come out and was fine.

"Why is it so long? What's abis?"

"Oh, are you going to the bathroom? Why don't you knock it on a kebelet."

His flat and innocent nature appeared again. Does he not feel how anxious I am right now?

"Mas not kebelet. You all right?" endured my aggravation.

"Well," he answered briefly and was busy with activities avoiding me.

"Why are you, Yank?" Obstructing his steps who was about to put a towel used to dry his face in the clothesline.

"Mas, I want to pray first, go to night" he said. Thankfully, I didn't touch it. It will be a shame if I touch him and how much scolding will be on me because he has to ablaze again. But it would definitely be nice if he was as chatty as he used to be.

"Yes." Yeah." I felt bad to let my wife carry out her duties as a Muslim. "Wait on! Mas wudhu first, we pray together." Finally, I decided to become his priest.

Isn't this my duty as her husband? I haven't had my wife in a long time and we have been praying together ever since the cold tragedy began.

After the greeting, I turned my body. I let my wife crucify me. It felt peaceful after we prayed together. I looked at my wife's face, which kept on looking down. After the salim, he opened the mukena and took care of it.

"Yank" call me.

"Hm." Complain, that's the only response.

Come to think of it, he imitates my style when angry. I gripped his shoulders when he was busy tidying up his prayer kit.

"Is that right, Mas?" Down face. Right, Bening avoids me again.

"Geek at me when you're talking!" Clutching her cheek to look up at me.

Those sad eyes always managed to make my emotions subside and change with feelings of guilt as if I were bashing them. I kissed her lips, made her gasp and tried to avoid me.

"Don't avoid it anymore." Hugged it tightly then. "Never ignore me again."

Why do I feel sensitive? I was so scared of losing my wife.

"Please promise me that you won't leave the mas." keep his body only within reach of my face. "Promise."

"God's Insha."

"What is Allah's Insha? Yes or no?"

"Where does God desire, Mas. What matters is that we try our best." The forced smile. "I finish the face first, Mas also finish himself. After that we rest and sleep," he said softly later.

After cleaning the prayer equipment and changing clothes, we are now in bed. The dim atmosphere in the room was getting quiet because we were not chatting as usual. I miss my wife who is ugly and sometimes weird.

"Aren't you watching your favorite drama, Yank?" I break the silence. Reversing his body facing her then hugging spoiled. We're lying down right now.

Usually the tv continues to light even we scramble just because Bening wants to watch his favorite drama. And I always end up giving up.

"Again males watch. Then there is a new drama that makes grigetan. Just watch the news, let a lot of information about our country," he replied busy with a cellphone in his hand. I looked at him who spoke but didn't see me.

Usually you like to say, why watch the news? Make parno aja if you see the news of murder, robbery, lunar encore and begal-begal. Trus if politics, would say he did watch that makes dizzy, thinking life is also dizzy.

Really, I miss that discussion. The debate that made me give up was happy to make my wife happy. Happiness is that simple, just because of her mode so that I let her watch her favorite drama without forgetting her obligation as a wife if I want a ration that can not be delayed.

"Yank, man,"

"Hm." Still busy with his phone.

"She was tired.want to rest. How, still playing hp? See what else?" I leaned my body peeking at what Bening was doing.

"Keppoo." hid his phone so I wouldn't look. I bent my face feeling jealous and thinking strangely. "Emmhhh.git's a sullen pout." Yes, he started to open up again. "This.many cake and flower orders. Tomorrow seems to be busy," the story later while staying focused on the screen of his phone.

Yeah, just leave it like that. I don't really mind what he's doing, I trust him. Basically I just want him to talk to me. Sure enough, his thumbs were busy replying to the messages of those ordering cakes and flowers as I peeked at what he was doing.

The chance to put my head on her shoulder made me happy. I sniffed the smell of a baby on his neck which was already an opium to me. The smell I miss so much. I put my hand on her body. Drowned my face in the recess of his neck then.

It feels comfortable...I miss having a moment like this...

"Yank, since when can you make such a nice cake?" tanyaku interrupted his activities. I miss talking to my wife.

"Emmbb.." started thinking and put his cellphone on the nightstand. Yes, he's finally focused on me!

"According to aunt Lily's story...Since the first grade of Junior High I am not wrong. I started learning to make cakes, aided by Aunt Lily as well" he replied.

"OK, if it's not wrong?"

"Yes, I forgot about it."

"Why can you forget?" Keep puffing with questions, Aslam. Let the night dissolve with chatter.

"Why?" frowning.

"Accident."

"What accident?" Seriously, I felt gasped at the end.

"collision."

"Who?"

"I. Feelings like he's never told.." his expression thought. "Don't I ever tell you anything?" I shook my head in doubt. Ever told a story, huh?

"It's you know, as a result of the accident I ampe amnesia trus deformed in my hand." stuck out my hand, showing a scar stitches.

His statement made me lift my head and half my body with my elbows as support. I looked down and looked at his face.

The accident? The collision? Why does my heart rumble when I hear that.

"You had an accident last year?" Many doubt.

"He'em. He said I was in a collision. Motorcycle accident. Had a weekly coma due to head surgery, fitting wake up I did not want the incident then..."

Screaming, I suddenly started shaking and I was scared. Maybe he had told me, but I used to not really listen to him because of the presence of Bening who suddenly interrupted my life.

"Where's the accident?"

"On the road Iha, Mas."

"What road do you mean?"

"I don't know. Tomorrow I ask Bang Iyo deh."

"Not to."

"Why? That was nanya."

"Gakpapa, forget it."

"But I don't forget Mas Aslam. In fact, it's like Mas who doesn't want to be the same as me.." he said at the end of the sentence as if disappointed. He turned, behind me.

"Didn't you want to?" pulling his body, back down. "We've met before?" frowning.

"Oh yes, we meet often. Mas aja who did not realize and cuek if mas take flowers order mama." I remember it. "I'm sorry, but yes..."

Bening shook his head. "Not that."

"Isn't that?"

"We met when I just woke up from a coma."

"Huh? When's? Where's where?"

"The hospital."

"Hospital?" Getting deg-degan.

"Park bench."

I'm trying to remember that. The garden bench was the day I tried to bounce back after the bad times I lived.

"You..."

"Yes, a wheelchair girl with bandages on her head, hands and feet." His eyes sparkled when he said the thing that made me grimace.

"Mas must have runny anyway. Because at that time my face was swollen again because of cuts and bruises," he explained to shock me.

"A...I...U.." I really can't handle continuing.

"E O" he continued. "Mas remember those words? Haha I'm sorry, but Mas was handsome but mute, oops." covered his mouth. "Sorry.hehe"

I'm glad Bening's back open to me. I really want to talk to him. But not this kind of conversation. I'm glad to know that she's the one who made me open my heart again. His condition at that time was worrisome but managed to make me calm with him. The patient was quite chatty given his condition which was much worse than mine.

"I'm happy" she looked at me with a smile, making me look more fixed on her face.

"I'm happy to see Mas living so well up to this point. Mas's condition in the hospital was no better than my condition at the time. I'm just a physical wound, but the wound in your heart, no one can treat it. Although now it must have been treated because Erina's mother returned. And I'm glad you're all right. Then when we meet again at the flower shop, I really want to go to Mas and nanyain tidings. But the jutex mulu came. In fact, never want to see and long in the store," he then.

I swear by anything, why would I want to cry right then and there. This woman is quite strong with the situation and conditions she experienced. He was quite mature from his age and understood my condition back then.

"Oh yes, Mas. Wait a minute," got out of bed, then walked into the locker room and came back with a can of cartoon-shaped picture tube in his hand.

"Now" thrust the can at me.

"What's this?" Receive the can by wiggling it in the air.

"Now, the note." Give me a little notebook later.

I opened the little book and there were numbers in it. There are dates and nominal money.

"What does that mean?" My curiosity further continued by trying to hold the vibrations in my voice.

"That's a note of change from the money that I love to pay the same flowers cake. I'll never take the change. So I noted, hoping that when Mas comes back, I return the change. But every time Mas comes, always just hurry up and leave the change again..." The story made me tremble.

"Why don't you take the change?" It's hard to say.

"The returns are many, my. Mas Aslam always gave most of his money," he explained.

"Yes, you take it!"

"can't. That's too much and not my right. Anyway 'kan Mas never said if the change for me, '" his spray does not want to lose.

I brushed my head off after seeing the final note in the little book. Nominal pretty much considering the nearly nine months I come every day to pick up flowers and mama-order cakes.

"Later the money is counted, according to the same record...If there will be less, Mas said, I will change," he said weakly with his body that had sunk under the blanket and closed his eyes tightly.

Why do things I don't want to remember come back to haunt my memory?

I stared at the can in my left hand, then the small note in my right hand, placed it carelessly on the bed, feeling frustrated.

Then I looked into the face of my wife who seemed to have fallen asleep in her sleep. I smiled at him who quickly fell asleep when not less than five minutes we were still chatting and arguing. I bowed my head, and kissed her forehead and cheeks with affection.

I hope it's not you, Yank...

TB