The Staircase
Wet Caught

The clear morning, the blue sky that stretched wide, and the ever-noisy market made me wake up from my sleep.

Mila's painting in my room woke me up. Mila's tomboy stare in the picture clearly reminded me of how she would get angry if me, Toni, and her three friends at Elementary School didn't match her wishes. I sniggered in my heart.

"The banana fry's ready, ma'am? Aki's going to the market soon after dad." In the messy-looking kitchen it was no less than his busy market. My mom's pacing.

Every now and then the hot cooking oil jumps out, "Okay, ouch. Hot, uh, hot. Which head is the head." Slate. The one he's looking for a skillet cover, but the one called the head.

"Here, ma'am." I gave the cover of the frying pan. Even though my mom's looking for a head, but I already know and understand what she needs.

"This bring this. Let the rest be brought to the market." My mother answered while giving a large plate full of fried bananas.

Being lazy is enough to drain patience. Often ridiculed by peers, needed with spoken often different, other people become unable to understand. No wonder my father is more often in the market than at home, this must be lazy to hear the chatter of my mother. I said in my heart.

I understand my mother's nature. Even before selling vegetables at the market, my father said the first place to test my patience was with my mother. Sure enough, my mother's long nagging every day turned out to be more spicy nagging in the market. Similarly, some talkative mothers who spontaneously berated my father when the father did not make a mistake.

"Yes, bang. Wanna which one? This one or that one?" I just got to the store. Father pointed at the row of fresh vegetables in front of him.

"Call me brother." Reply transvestite, do not accept being called brother. Dad held back his laughter. Obviously, the older brother or sister wanted to be called with a menor dress up, but there was a jakun and some beard-dependent-being the center of attention of market visitors.

"Eke, pick this one, deh, bang." Answer the transvestite while lifting fresh vegetables.

"Oh, yes, brother. I'm in pocket now, yeah."

It is in the market where we meet many people, even many characters that can provoke our emotions. Dad once said, if you can't control your emotions, it would be better to stay at home. But my arm made me believe I could be like him.

"Well, where's the banana fry?"

"Keep it here. You wait a minute, yeah. I'm going to the toilet."

"Okay, ready, yeah."

I like this moment the most. The moment where I'm the boss.

"Dik, the fried banana is still hot, isn't it?" Ask the buyer.

I brought my hand closer to the banana fritters, "It's still hot, ma'am." My answer.

"I bought ten, yeah."

Without the ba-bi-bu, I wrapped ten fried bananas vigorously, then gave them to the mother. We are dealing in cash. From behind me Dad came out.

"Something done?" Ask dad after making sure the amount of vegetables is still quite a lot.

"This frying pan, yeah." My answer. During the completion of Primary School I no longer have the opportunity to sell or fried in the school cafeteria, in my school there are now strict rules prohibiting students from selling. Forced to increase income and savings in the piggy bank, my mother left her fried food in the father's stall.

No need to wait long, fried banana ludes. I put together the money from selling fried food in a small jar. Dad counted his money in the drawer, his fingers were very slow to count money, his blink of an eye very clearly signified that he was thinking. After he finished counting the money, he stared at the row of vegetables that began to wither.

"We'll wait a minute." Said father. At home there is no other work that can be done, only in this market we are fully active. Sweating, hoarseness, sore feet, and eyes begin to fade. Again I remember my father's message saying, Patience.

"Already, but there are still many leftover vegetables that we can not take home."

"Then leave it to me, Dad." Dad's eyes seemed to doubt me. But I brushed off with the rest of the voice that I chanted like a poet's poem being emotional.

"Come mothers, fathers, and brothers all. This time a big discount. Balikin any capital is okay than this vegetable we take home. Please glance. Price issues we can agree on together."

The mothers passing in front of our stall, already about three meters away, suddenly twisted their bodies.

"Really, brother?" Ask the mothers.

"Yes, mom. Want to buy everything? If I buy everything I'll pack a special piece."

"By, how many total five of these ties."

I realized my father's gaze had reminded me not to put a price away from our agreement with the Tibetan sir. Our profit as a seller is as much as twenty percent, in my heart I calculate in detail.

"Reverse the capital, ma'am. Five thousand of them."

The mothers immediately smiled happily. Hurriedly unpacked the contents of his wallet as if he was waiting in line for my father's cheap vegetables, afraid not to be part.

"Here, just take the rest." Signs agreed with the way of cash transactions; I handed a plastic bag containing fresh vegetables, the mother gave money to my father, there was still two thousand rupiah, the mother refused his change. Eagerly, father snatched the money, it turned out that father was as I thought. I murmured in my heart, there was no rebuttal or rejection.

"How's it?" Ask my mom to come home.

"Sweet sell, ma'am."

My mother still couldn't believe it when the basin I was carrying was going round and round, it was clear that there were no fried bananas left.

"You must have spent it." Accuse my mother.

I shook my head, then handed over the money that I had neatly, then my mother believed.

"Enough for your snack tomorrow." I widened my eyes at Mom, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Take this. If you don't want to spend it, you can save it in the piggy bank or in school savings." My mother's advice was trying to persuade me to take three pieces of money.

"Origin't buy useless things." Further. I didn't refuse this time. If you have time to refuse, then be ready to hear a long lecture or scolding as high as the signal tower that is ready to be echoed.

A useless item? I remember a few days ago Budi was caught wet by the mother of the owner of his index. Said the mother boarding, it turns out that the one who stole the flowers all this time was Budi. Budi secretly brought the flowers of the mother boarding to the outside. Sold it. Which makes the cost mother angry, the results of selling the flowers are used by Budi and his friends to buy cigarettes.

From yesterday I did not go to school. Mother kos kicked him out.

"He quit school, Ki." Said one of my classmates this morning. He said Budi contacted him via his cellphone saying that Budi was in the village soon to be wandering in the city. Budi no other choice, then the main goal if not continued school is just work.

"It's a pity that he's smart, Ki." Ask one of them. I'm nodding. Indeed Budi is quite smart, he can be ranked superior since me and Randi are no longer in old school. He wasted his opportunity in his youth. She prefers to quit school after many successful cases that make her pessimistic about going to class.

All this time Budi seemed to be hostile to me, sometimes in class we did not reprimand. I heard from my classmates, Budi was so because he was still angry with me because he did not join in hanging out with his two friends.