Mom, I Want School
1. INTRODUCE MYSELF

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The sound of a truck engine vehicle was heard disturbing my sleep. I felt a tremor in the old mattress that was the bed for me to sleep on. The mattress that is getting thinner and thinner age, said my father has been used for generations.

I opened my eyes, closed them a few times to make my vision clearer. The porous wall that had been weathered even as it was almost destroyed was to be the first sight I saw in the morning today.

The sound of a truck vehicle is still heard passing through the front of the house. I opened the wooden window with old bamboo to keep it open.

Now in front of my house a large truck of wet sand dumps dug with an excavator that every day became the object of my entertainment when I did not play.

The atmosphere of my house was silent at this hour. At seven o'clock, it's like the sun is rising and shining on the earth that I always admire the results of nature.

What makes me so impressed with this earth? That is sand from the river that never runs out even though it has often been dug.

I stepped out of the house, setting my bare feet on the rocks following the sound of a flowing stream. I once thought where the end of the river I always use water to bathe every day.

Sitting on an embankment that had received assistance from the central government however, was once damaged when the flash flood came two years ago. I don't remember it much because I was very small at the time.

I am now seven years old. Said I wasn't a kid anymore, that's what my mom always said. My name is Syaril, people call me Ari.

Dark skin due to sun exposure has indeed become my trademark, reddish hair as if it had received a dye like the rich people do, he said, I saw it when I went to town with my father.

My body is not too thin. Although I am a poor person who only lives in a house with porous boards, but I never felt the name hunger.

My daily activities are like this.

Early in the morning I would sit on the embankment staring at the view of the rice field being plowed with a tractor engine.

The man in the gray hat was one of the neighbors not too far from my house. He looks like he's plowing his own field. His name is Mr. Santoso, the man I used to call Santoso uncle.

We have no family relationship, however, because we meet every day to make me and my family also close to him.

My father always digs sand and then accommodated and if there is a buyer then the money will be given to Mr. Santoso who will eventually be given to my father with the amount of money that has been cut.

Actually, it is not the Santoso sir who has the sand, but there is a big boss who owns the sand and Santoso sir is the big boss trust to organize sand buying activities.

Mr. Santoso, he's actually a rich man, he's got a car, a big house, a big land, but, because of his work he had to live in an old house with a wall of boards almost as much as I did.

I took a deep breath smelling the pungent smell of the rice mud. Soon it will be the season of rice.

Now I set my feet on the embankment looking for my mother who was washing clothes in the old well.

Regarding the old well, the well is not shaped like a well that is generally shaped like a beam and has been cemented but this well is not like that. He is box-shaped and the water continues to flow despite the dry season.

The sound of a brush rubbing against clothes rang out in my sense of hearing. Of course it was my mama, a woman who was still very easy yet, had a fat body giving her children more attention than taking care of her body.

My mother is quite different from my father if my mother has a young face different from my father who is very old. His face was wrinkled, tan-skinned with gray hair. I've heard the story that my father was quite mature while when married to my Mom, he was still very easy.

"Just woke up, Ri?"

"Yes, Ma."

That was all my mother asked me. After that I would sit in front of my mother watching how she cleaned my rather dirty clothes.

Sometimes I wipe my face that was hit by the splash of laundry water. I am not angry, I even feel very happy if the sensation of cold water splashing touches my face little by little.

The smell of orange-flavored soap worth peppercin wafted with abundant foam that I occasionally play the busa. I laughed as I rubbed the foam into my hand and felt the burst of foam in the wind.

"Get Ari! Don't just play like that! It's old laundry, it's dirty."

A face with stiffened facial muscles and two eyebrows that seemed to be climbing up, it seemed like my mama was angry. I know that every morning my mother is always angry. Either because he did not have the money to buy vegetables or rice maybe he was also angry because my Father more often spent his time fishing even my Mom and my Father had a fight because my Father did not get fish I have been fishing long enough.

What are we gonna eat? That's the line I hear every time my dad comes home. I even memorized how they talked about money and money. The little thing is always the reason why they always fight not by complaining physically but complaining but still who always succumb is my Father.

I don't want to make my mom angry. I took off my clothes and pants, put them on a pile of laundry that my mother hadn't washed.

With a slightly peeling pink bucket I used the bucket to wet my entire body using a little soap to cleanse the body.

"Today there is no odor so just use a toothbrush to clean your teeth, tomorrow if there is more money then we will buy odol."

I just nodded and grabbed the toothbrush my mother bought last year. I used the water to clean my teeth rubbing it in such a way and put the toothbrush back into the bucket.

After everything is done I will go back home to help my mother carry the washed clothes by putting a bucket over my head.

This is what my life is like every morning life that I always live maybe people will say if my life is sad enough but maybe this is how my life is. Full simplicity.

I was always amazed at the sand trucks that passed through me making me pull over on the side of the road. The dust that scattered to stifle my chest made me rush to run to the front of the house to put a bucket of clothes to be dried by my mother.

I grabbed the clothes that were arranged in the old closet, changed my clothes in the house and ran back to the side of the road, this was not a big road that had been paved, but the cobblestone road and the slight cliffs became a road for trucks to transport sand from the river to buyers.

I chose to sit on small pebble rocks that have been pounded broken down and used as a tool for development. Staring at the iron trucks passed through me.

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