The Staircase
Red Numbers

We had a long holiday even though on the calendar there was no red date. Usually a holiday that is anticipated by school children because they can spend all day at home. Play. Enjoy the holidays with family. But not with me. I even woke up before the chicken crowed. Helping both my parents raise money for me to go to second grade; if I go to class.

From yesterday, my mother interrogated me. "How's it going? You can answer everything, right?" Then ask dad's opinion, "You think he went to class no, huh?" Worrying.

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, I don't know. Listen radio. The head of the father nodded to the rhythm of his favorite dangdut music. Yesterday uncle gave his radio to my father. The radio is still good, the sound is not as ambiguous as the old father's radio, the antenna is also long. You don't have to bother looking for radio signals by pulling up the antenna anymore. Just one long pull upwards, a radio signal could be found. Dad said uncle was moving house. I don't know when and why.

Tonight my father and uncle talked in the living room for a long time. Think of uncle as very pliable whenever he hears father's advice.

"Indeed, humans can't live on their own, Cil." I think my uncle is starting to understand.

"real said. I admit, alone just make this self lonely, the purpose of life is unclear. I wish failure would happen only once." Said uncle, lirih. Two cups of coffee served my mother in front of my father and uncle.

"Oh, here's my bangs that are coming in second grade." I'm out of the room. Sitting near dad.

"No, uncle. I'm not sure about Mr. Mad."

"What's wrong with Mad sir?" Sambar mom, curious.

"I've been punished twice Mad sir." Plasteredness.

"Well, when?" Mom's shocked. Blindfolded her eyes. Can't believe.

I can't help but, "First, I'm not good at copying words, I'm not good at counting two hundred lines." I bowed, sorry. "Both are punished for cleaning the class." My next.

"Great dong. If we used to not be afdal if not punished by the teacher. It will be an unforgettable memory." Uncle chimed.

Uncle's right. I remember being punished even more Mad than getting a hundred ponten from Neli's mom. I remember how Budi's drunken countenance completed the sentence of two hundred lines from Mad sir. I also remember how we were together when cleaning up the class. Remember how Aga got angry at Randi. I miss those memories. Unfortunately time cannot be turned back.

Mom's not getting angry. Dad nodded in agreement.

Tulat being our determinant will go to which class. Could it be to go to second grade or back to first grade? I'm not too sure. I received an invitation from Mr. Mad a week ago. Mr. Mad knew he was talking to a Tibetan man and left the letter to a Tibetan man.

Uncle said back to his house. We slept well. Suddenly a streak of water from the leaf roof flooded my face.

"Moving, moving. Quickly lift your pillow." Mothers in the mist move bedding, pillows, blankets and mosquito nets.

"Slap here, Rin. It's dry." Father says.

The rain is not too heavy out there. It's just that our leaf roof is too old. Rain means to cancel. In my heart I said, hurrah. But I couldn't show my happy face in front of my distraught father and tired mother moving the bed and sliding the clothes off the cardboard. The look on my face could not explain between happily failing to incite, or pitying to see the silent father and mother listening to the sound of rain on the roof of the leaves. The toreh knife has also been sharpened father.

The rain has subsided, just drizzling out there. But there's no way we're going back to the room while dad's been snoring so much, ranting at the sound of frogs.

Tonight I seemed to accompany my father and mother to sleep in the middle room, since I did not sleep. Although the eyes are tightly clenched, but the brain nerves in the head are still wrestling to solve the problem of tangled threads or needles in the straw.

I pulled the blanket up to the neck, cold. Almost asleep, suddenly my father woke me and my mother.

"You're taking the sling, aren't you? If you wake up quickly. It's morning soon." Urge dad, hurry. Mom thinks I'm still sleeping.

"Wake, son. We're gonna cut it." His voice was soft without touching. I turned my body around lazily.

There is no word or sentence of force. But I realized I wasn't asleep. I wouldn't dare if I knew I was home alone!

"Wait, ma'am." My heart suddenly moved out of bed.

Dad brought the towel. Tumben bring a towel. Thought astonishment. The ground outside the muddy. Dewy clump. The crescent moon also looked faint. Frogs are still disheveled. Crickets are like hitting a tambourine, noisy.

We arrived at the rubber garden, the feet below my knees soaked.

Before the incision, the father wiped each tree with his towel until it was dry.

"Let the sap water not belepotan." Said Dad with a big smile looking at me who was confused, full of questions.

"It rained last night for a while. This tree doesn't seem to be too wet." Said mom picking up the towel that dad put on her.

Dad scratched his toreh knife and then ascertained the direction of the rubber water or not. After being sure the sap water fell right into the shell, then the father cut down the next rubber tree.

"Give me the towel, ma'am. Let me wipe it." My love for a mother who sluggishly wipes away the rubber tree.

Dad nagged from earlier, telling mom to wipe the rubber tree a little faster. Dad's very good at playing his knife. Every curve of the former nicks yesterday nothing was exceeded. I cut down one rubber tree in a matter of seconds. While the mother wiped one rubber tree for more than a minute. Be aware. My mother was always careful and careful about doing things.

Now it's my turn to wipe the rubber tree. It's not too dry. But faster than my mother. As a result, the father and mother can finish slashing when dawn starts to break. And collect sap water when the sun is hot, stinging.

Next, the father printed rubber pieces and sold them to the Tibetan pack.

"Thank God. This is enough." Even count makes a cup of bitter coffee as if sweet father because of his smile. Sugar is exhausted. I had to drink coffee without sugar this afternoon.

A very bright morning, greeted cheerfully by an infinitely neat uncle. Light blue collared checkered shirt dress. Black cloth pants cover the eyes of the feet. Black semi leather shoes without socks. Uncle stood straight like he heard the cue, ready to grak, from the ceremonial commander. Putting the bottom end of a checkered shirt into my pants and pulling my school belt tight.

"Ready. What else?" Uncle smiled without showing his teeth, embarrassed.

"It has. Don't think. Go, yuk." Walk away, away from the house that does not have a neat one bit. Messy. My uncle and I hurried. No time to wear clothes in cardboard boxes. We immediately padlocked the house and kept the padlock to its usual place.

"Uncle is very handsome." Pujiku while on foot.

"Oh, sure. This uncle from young used to be handsome. It's just that uncle doesn't take care of himself. Well, look now. Your uncle's a good fit for a young lady, isn't he?"

I laughed out loud. Uncle was always careful whenever there was a mud pit in front of him. Not even a speck of mud could touch his shoes. The special day that uncle set aside for me was like the last day to meet, so it was a pity that this moment was not maximized by uncle. Uncle became my representative, keeping the invitation to receive the report card from Mr. Mad, replacing the father and mother who were incising. This is their deal after a long discussion last night.

Upon arriving at school, my friends were astonished to see my uncle next to me.

"So which one is your father, Ki?" Let's whisper softly. Uncle glanced at us. It was as if he did not want to be told by the fathers. Of course the appearance of the narcissistic uncle today wants to be called a bachelor.

"That's my uncle, Bud. My father didn't get to." We sat in the long chairs of the school hall, in front of the first class.

Uncle entered the classroom, sitting in the front seat. Uncle grew more confident when one of my friends pointed at him with a sweet smile. Randi escorted his father on an onthel bike, he sat in the bonnet of the onthel bike, while his father pedaled the bike with all his strength. With great difficulty Randi got off the bike. His short legs tried to grip the ground. Randi almost slipped. Fortunately, his father pulled his left hand.

"Ouch. Just barely. Where are your parents?"

Me and Budi simultaneously pointed with their mouths deliberately reddened. Randi sits between me and Budi. Graze without saying goodbye. Randi was acting hot in front of his sweet-smiling father, passing in front of us who greeted him with a smile as well.

"That, Aga. How is he alone, huh?" Said Budi while turning his head backwards.

"Yes, yeah. This is an important day, at least it can be represented if parents do not have time." Randi.

I remember you didn't have time to take my report today. "Maybe the Aga representative caught up or is already in the classroom. We nobody knows, do we?" I asked while raising both shoulders. They both agree.

In a hurry approached us. "It's started, hasn't it? My father won't take my report." Aga was trying to hunt his breath. "I'm definitely gonna need a whole day with my dad up here." Aga chuckled, slowly.

"So how, Ga? We can't take the report card ourselves, must be parents or represented." Budi added the look of the worried face of Aga who was thinking hard.

"You may be angry, Mad sir, Ga." Imbuh Randi's. It seems Aga is going home. His eyes are not calm.

"I have an idea, Ga." My idea made Aga feel a little calm.

Long-term Mr. Mad gave the word welcome. The students then passed by in front of the class and the school yard, some were gathered in the hallway chair, and some were, sculpting and attentively listening to every inch of Mr. Mad's sentence-waiting for the results we fought for a little over a year ago.

Mr. Mad recounted our habits during school. The parents who heard it glanced at their respective children, embarrassed and disappointed. But luckily my uncle understood my mischief when Mr. Mad said, two students were once sentenced to write two hundred lines. One of them managed to write well even though the writing was not perfect - chicken claws and hot worms. Be excited to hear it. Smiling proudly looking at his father as if to say, it was me.

As if the punishment was embarrassing, Randi and Budi were proud. Mr. Mad is indeed smart in stringing words so that the punishment that I think is miserable, even becomes a joke, praise, and it turns out to have its own value for Mr. Mad.

"I love these first graders even though they're often legal, but they show responsibility." Followed by applause.

"But I need to emphasize again, that there is one of them who lives in class. I've tried as much as possible, but the value we can't help, is very far from the others. There are changes, but we the school can not help more. There are powers and responsibilities that we have to carry out." Mr. Mad made everyone who heard him shut up for a moment while asking in their hearts, who?

"But. My advice to all parents should not discourage the child. Those who live in class today do not mean they fail, have no future, are stupid, and do not deserve school. But know that they do not yet know each other's identity. They are unique, fathers. They have skills that even smart people don't have. So, my hope this school remains a learning center for anyone who still has determination, passion, and dreams." Said Mr. Mad at length, easing a little the worries of the parents students.

Once again I gave my thumbs up in the daydream after hearing Mr. Mad's soothing series of words. My uncle listened seriously. Nodding though Mr. Mad spoke without pause at all.

"Alright, I'll call the name of the student who got the ranking first." Mr. Mad managed to make Randi and Budi wake up from his daydream that had been silent.

The mouth of Randi komat kamit, Budi close his fingers while closing his eyes. Amens. Both simultaneously. Aga winked, resigned.

"Rank three is given to." All quiet. The old man who had been busy chatting with the friend next to him was instantly silent, staring at Mad sir who was standing in front expectantly. "Get." Shouted Mr. Mad loudly. Followed by a very loud applause. Budi stood up while jumping around happily, hurrah.

"Rank two is given to, Randi." Mr. Mad's screams echoed to the outside of the classroom. Making Budi and Randi hug each other congratulate. Me and Aga just smiled with envy.

"Rank one" Mr. Mad deliberately paused his nonsense. Silent. This moment was made as stiff as possible by Mr. Mad. Until the old man pecked for a long time as if holding his breath and blinked his eyes.

"Aki."

I was silent, in my heart I thought this was a dream. Aga, Budi and Randi greet me while saying, congratulations. As if to make me realize, that this is real.

Uncle clapped his hands, shaking hands with Mr. Mad while taking my report card. My ears are full of congratulations.

Uncle went back to his seat. One by one the parents of the students went out to see their children, curiously opening their report cards. Some jumped happily after seeing the report card, some were crying while hugging their parents, and some were having a good night. The other half were silent waiting for their parents to come out.

Budi and Randi go home first. "Until we meet in second grade." Say it, then stay away.

Randi did the same thing, "Dah, Aki, Aga." He painstakingly rode his father's onthel bike, slowly moving away.

Uncle left the last class while carrying a report card and parcel that he said from Mr. Mad and can only be opened in front of my parents. Uncle's face looked sad. Aga and I were confused even though my uncle had just taken my first rank report card.

"Why, uncle?" My toot.

Uncle shook his head ambiguously, between saying it's okay and saying something happened. Aga and I looked at each other. We both wondered in our hearts of astonishment.

Uncle handed us both reports. Without a second thought, I and Aga opened their respective report cards, it turned out to be true; as a result I ranked one out of twelve students. Aga. Cowering within. I took the report card and opened the second page, because the first page was filled with notes repeating the class. I was silent too. Can't say what. It turned out that the red numbers were neatly lined up on the Aga report card.