Me Gustas Tu's
Touring 1— Nursing Home
...Part 33's...
...Happy reading...
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...MGT by: VizcaVida...
...33...
“Oi, any new members? Whoa, Ndan! Take these two new soldiers of yours. Joinnya also—”
“Woy! Wife Lo bunting at home.”
All of the laughing was wide including Nolan and Jonathan who were being talked about.
This kind of atmosphere was what Nolan liked. He likes to be outside the house, because outside he gets the warmth of a sense of togetherness. It was like finding a new family.
Half an hour away at base camp, some of the members had still not gathered, so it was forced that those already present would have to wait for the others to join for the complete formation.
Solid team, and togetherness like a family, make Nolan feel comfortable in BPC.
***
The sound of roaring motor engines greets the air and fills the slightly congested streets of the holiday, today. Nolan followed the route led by Laksa. There is no police control, they are orderly, obey street rules, and respect other road users around them. Nolan secretly put a sense of pride in being able to be among these good people. Caca also does not talk much and just sits behind his back like a sack of grain*. (*gabah: rice that has not entered the milling process.
Nolan glanced at the rearview mirror. “Feel boncengin rice sack tau no?!” the word Nolan diverts his nervousness when accidentally their beads meet.
“What?” caca asked a little screamed because Nolan's voice was swallowed by the roar of the other club members' motorcycles.
“Handles! Let's not fall!”
What an alibi. Caca grinned behind the helmet and mask he was wearing.
“No, I've got a handle on the back.”
Inexhaustible, Nolan pulled the gas quite hard and released the original clutch until the motor faltered. That way managed to make Caca surprised not to play and immediately hold on to Nolan's waist, but did not last long because after that Caca immediately pulled his hand again.
“Nol, ish!” caca protested, patting one side of Nolan's shoulder.
“Ya already, handle.”
With a hesitant movement, Caca again directed his palm to Nolan's waist, then he clenched his palm to make Nolan's jacket in his hands.
Anxious to see what Caca was doubting, Nolan grabbed Caca's wrists and wrapped them around him to grip almost the entire abdomen.
“This is real.”
Taking a deep breath, Caca wrapped her hands around Nolan's waist. And without Caca knowing, it managed to make Nolan lower his head to see the arm of Caca who was embracing his stomach, then he smiled with a noisy heartbeat.
This is a very pleasant first touring experience, probably will be remembered Nolan as one of the beautiful memories he experienced in his life, and will store it in his memory drawer.
“I gini, it's okay right? No one will kill me when I go to school, right?” caca asked, getting a nod from a nervous Nolan instead of playing. Being in Caca's arms like this was never on her life's agenda. But, he couldn't lie if he liked it.
“Whose indeed?”
“Yes who knows you have many fans where know one of them there is a reckless kayak kemaren.” cerocos Caca without a comma.
Nolan giggled amusedly. “I think celebrities have fans.”
“The proof, there is tuh.”
Nolan went back to silence and focused on the streets. But something Caca said while making a video call the other day, returned to Nolan's memory.
Unfortunately, I don't have a Titan replica.
Nolan plans to buy Caca a replica of the Titan after returning from the tour moge this time.
***
The building is not a modern style building. You could say like the old house of the Dutch colonial era which is still quite sturdy and well maintained. In front of it, there is a flower garden and on the other side there is land planted with vegetables and crops. There is a fairly spacious parking lot that is given a canopy, under shady trees that can be used to park about two to two hundred and fifties motorcycles.
The arrival of the BPC was warmly welcomed by the owner of the parlour. Laksa and Pak Wiyono hugged each other, then one by one the members shook hands. This building is the legacy of Mr. Wiyono's parents.
“Lho, this new soldier, Ndan?”
“Iya, sir. Visuals BPC.”
“Visual?” ask Mr. Wiyono do not understand, understand, not millennials.
“Means the most handsome in the club.”
Mr. Wiyono laughed and nodded simultaneously. He looked at Nolan, Jonathan, Caca and Nanda.
“Welcome to join this benevolent club yes, son. May you be part of our family for a very long time.”
The four youths were sincere. After that, Mr. Wiyono invited all the members to look around and meet face to face and talk to the elderly here.
Some are active and productive. And some others must be taken care of by nurses because they are old.
Nolan, Jonathan, Caca and Nanda followed in Wiyono's footsteps. Nolan was so curious how Mr. Wiyono got this cool.
“There are some abandoned children. Not taken care of, and even worst of all, some deliberately throw them.” Hearing that, Nolan was a little stunned. He remembered the father he had been ignoring all along. The father who has been fighting for him, working tirelessly must have entered the age of more than fifty years in order to find a bite of rice and meet the lifestyle of Nolan.
They are still walking, until Mr. Wiyono back up his voice. “Disana, is the room of the parents who have really can not do any work.they also often get sick, and also forgetful.”
Nolan's gaze was pounded on one old man who looked like his papa. His age may be much older than his father's, but somehow Nolan sees him differently. The old man's spirit drew Nolan's steps closer. Nolan broke away from the entourage and approached the man.
“Good afternoon, grandpa.”
The old man who was busy painting turned his head, then smiled warmly and invited Nolan to sit on an empty chair beside him.
“You, one of the donors in the motor club, son?”
Inevitably, Nolan nodded.
“You are very handsome. Similar to my grandson.” said the old man who Nolan did not know his name. Then, the old man refocused on the canvas that had been scratched with colored brushes.
“Grandfather, painter?” nolan asked curiously. Compared to the other residents, this man looked the most neat and dignified.
“No. I used to love spending free time painting.” replied the man gently and warmly, still with a fluffy smile on his lips. “I like to draw the faces of my children, sometimes also my grandchildren. Although they don't care about me.”
Nolan's heart was like being squeezed hard. Incredible pain that arises because he is in such a position. A child who is indifferent to his parents.
“But they would much rather leave me here, than come visit and make me happy.”
The conclusion that appeared in Nolan's mind was, the son of this man left her in this orphanage. Under the pretext of coming again, this old man was lied to. And it ends with a long wait that may never meet the end.
“Last I tried calling, but the house number has been broken. Already can not be contacted again.” said the man still smiling. He re-scratched the color of some kind of skin color. “I lost them.” instantly, the look on the man's face turned sad. “They left me alone here. And it makes me sad.”
Nolan was devastated. The logic wants to remember the papa, but his ego still cannot be defeated by anything. He will still make his papa the most guilty of the passing of the mother.
“You, still have a father and mother, son?”
Nolan was again struck unconscious by the voice of the man beside him.
“Mama is gone, cake. Papa, often out of town to take care of business and left me alone at home. Yes, even though there are some household assistants who take care of me, but sometimes I still like to feel lonely.”
The old man turned his head, then rubbed Nolan's sturdy shoulder with his already wrinkled palm.
“Despite that, he fought for you, son. He doesn't want to see you in trouble, and wants to see you fulfilled. Education and career success, and for sure, he must love you very much.”
Nolan was stuck, silent without a word.
The old man again scratched his brush, now the face on the canvas was more clearly visible, and the picture was like Dejavu for Nolan. The face in the painting he had seen.
“Cause she still exists. Forgive his mistake, and never make him mope.”
Nolan was still busy mapping people's faces in color scratches on canvas. But the slightly shaking sound again attracted Nolan's attention.
“Or you will regret wasting your existence. Because everything can't be repeated, son. We are given a chance to live only once, and it all depends on how we use it.” []
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