The Staircase
First Class

Today even a year from the hot porridge event. My uncle says I'm not naughty anymore. It does. I learned more, counted, and spelled. For the past year, my mother has been my teacher. On the sidelines of her busy life, she took the time to teach me at home. Sometimes before going to bed. Learning illuminated by the dim light of fire pelita. I need to get closer to the lamp so that the writing can be seen clearly. No wonder my nostrils are black like chimneys. I've actually been healed a long time. Only month. But the new student registration is closed. I can't list the school.

I, who originally could only count one to ten, can now count from one to one hundred. I learned to write, imitating my mother even though my writing was like chicken claws. Learning the occasional spelling made mom, dad and uncle laugh out loud because I couldn't yet say the letter, R. I'm still learning to call that letter!

My right hand was about fifteen inches wide, a hot slurry. I diligently rub it when taking a shower, hoping that the marks can be lost. But nil.

"It's okay. It will disappear by itself." Mom said after seeing my hand.

"But, mom. Later my friends ask me why."

"Say you got a hot slurry spill." I'm speechless.

Mom took out my school uniform from inside the cardboard that had been tied up tightly, stacked under another cardboard box.

I'm wearing that uniform, "It feels a little cramped, ma'am." Raising my hands and twirling my body.

"But it still fits, right?" Ask mom to make sure.

Father and uncle stayed in the forest from yesterday. They were fishing and looking for rubber seedlings for the Tibetan pack. Try if there are them at home, would be happy to see me wearing this school uniform. I murmured in my heart.

"Still, mom. But my book is over." Opening the book on the last page, showing irregular black streaks, mother nodded in understanding. A year of self-study at home, that book is what I often open back and forth before going to bed.

"Oh, yes. Wait for me to come home, buy a new book."

"When are you coming home, mom?"

"Maybe tomorrow." Answer mom, frowning.

The next two days the registration of new students ended. Registration is not free this year as it was last year. There are dues, it just so happens that the school is in the stage of building a new building.

I went out of the house and picked up my uncle's onthel bike at his house without his knowledge. No more cars. Since the hot slurry spilled, the cars have gone nowhere.

I pushed my uncle's bike to a high altitude to drive itself down. I managed. I tried it again until I was finally able to ride the onthel bike despite sitting on all three. My feet haven't arrived yet.

The next morning, my uncle and father arrived home. Uncle's face seemed to hold the anger because the bike was stored carelessly next to his house.

"Sorry uncle, I was wrong." Uncle did not get angry, I deliberately put on a look of pity.

Uncle and father brought lots of fish and rubber seedlings. Then the result is divided in two. After lunch, my father sold it to a Tibetan pack.

"The president is indeed the Tibetan employee." Dad grumbling. Face reddened.

"Why?" Ask mom to calm down.

"They've been outsmarting us all this time." Dad continued, panting.

"Know how?" Mother still doesn't understand.

"Expensive rubber price. They buy our rubber at a cheap price. In addition, the scales they wear are also tuned. That should be ten kilos so only eight kilos."

"However they are so alike to us. So how is it now? What are Tibetans doing?"

"The Tibetan army fired them. This is compensation money from the Tibetan sir." I gave money to my mother.

"Thank God. This is enough to pay for Aki's registration."

I smiled happily to see my mother smile. Tomorrow I'll list the school. I'm in first class next week. The class I used to observe with Aga, my friend. This year, Aga has moved up to second grade. Lucky to be Aga.

If it hadn't been in that time, I would have been second grade. As a result I can't be in a class with Aga this year. We haven't seen each other in a long time.

The registration of new students this morning was attended by dozens of parents. They were sitting in a large room with the Headmaster and the teacher. Me and the other students were waiting outside. Hope to get the good news from today's meeting of parents and teachers.

"Why hands?" Ask the prospective first grader next to me while licking the blue swordsman candy.

He's more interested in asking my hand than my name. I covered the hot porridge with my left hand.

"Whose hand?" Ask the friend next to him.

"That's it, his hands are crooked." He answered while pointing at me.

I shifted to the side a little bit away. "What's your name?" He asked me again while licking the candy that was starting to shrink.

"Aki. What's your name?" My left hand is still holding the former hot porridge. I'm ashamed to show it. It is white like a panau. I'm worried that those hot porridge marks they think are contagious.

"Budi, my name is bewil. You'll know my house if it goes that way." Pointing towards his house. My body is twice as big as mine. I'm sure, eat one of his hobbies.

We shake hands, get acquainted. "Who are you?" Ask my friend next to Budi.

"I'm Randi. My house is close to Budi's. That's my dad sitting in the front, next to the window." Turns out Randi's father was sitting next to my father. Randi's eleven twelve with my body. It means just as small. But from his bravery, Randi was defiant and brave. His eyes were very sharp as if ready to pounce.

"My hands are spilled by hot porridge." I said, showing my hand. The two of them glared at my hand with a look of pity. I thought they were gonna make fun of me. But it turns out they sympathize, too grieve.

"When does the hot porridge make it so?" Be asked.

"A year ago. Actually, I'm in second grade now. But I'm late on the school list because of recovery." I explained optimistically.

Not many people are lucky to be able to go to school, although not a few who do not want to go to school. In this village, many children drop out of school. School is boring and a waste of money. But not for me. From childhood, father and mother told the beautiful times of school that they could not enjoy long because of the circumstances. I told you, don't be like us. I always remember what my father said whenever an unpleasant event happened to them. Often lied to, cheated, and forced to do work that they did not want to do.

"We're lucky, man. There are still parents who care about our education even though they don't have enough money." I was like a famous motivator. Followed by the bending nods of Budi and Randi. They seem to understand what I mean.

"That's our father's out." Budi pointed at his father with his left hand, his right hand holding a stick of blue swordsman candy.

"I'm first, Ki." He ran towards his father.

"Me too, Ki." Randi was also willing to leave me who was still waiting for my father.

Not long after, my father walked out of the meeting room. The last father left the meeting room with the Headmaster. Dad came up to me with a sweet smile. We went home with good news and told my mother.

"Thank God." Said mom with a relieved smile.

At last. The school uniform that has been sitting in the cardboard for a long time can be worn proudly at dawn. Mom helped me comb my nineties-style hair, slashing to the right.

"Breakfast first, son." Mother's voice is soft. Usually screaming loudly forces me to take a shower, take a nap, eat. This time it was soft.

I put my first footstep on the ground after saying goodbye to my mother. I did not say goodbye to my father because before I woke up; he had gone to the rubber garden.

I want to boast to my uncle. Unfortunately, my uncle was not home. Lately uncle is rarely at home.

In the pocket of the white shirt that read SD on the heads of the students and students standing in front of the house and behind the white flower of the pentagon, I wear it with pride. I can already spell his writing.

A hat on top of my head and a tie around my neck signifies that I am ready for the flag ceremony at school this morning. The flip-flops became my footwear this morning. Yesterday my father said, The Headmaster allowed me to go to school on my own - as long as there was school intention and learning, the Headmaster said.

I got to school early. I watched as the ceremonial attendants were preparing for the welcome event, the choir, the street movement, and the distribution of the ceremonial participants per class. I sat in an elongated chair in front of first class.

Budi and Randi escorted his father on an onthel bike.

"Hi, Ki. Who are you taking to school?" Ask a Budi

"I'm alone, Bud." Smile semringah.

"Kok, didn't your mom or dad deliver?" Randi nimbrung's.

"They couldn't. I already know the way."

We were silent for a moment, the Headmaster passed in front of us, carrying a hammer, hitting the bell three times as a gesture that the Monday flag ceremony was about to begin.

A few late students jostled from the schoolyard to their respective classrooms, kept bags, then returned again in the schoolyard, adjusting the ranks.

I followed the teacher's instructions. Entering the first class ranks with Randi and Budi. I lined up behind Budi, while Randi was in front of us. Behind me was another student following along. Some parents monitor their children from far away in the bike parking lot.

"Dear, call me slow." The boy in a tie turned his head.

"Yes, you're Aki, right?" Ensuring. Then get close to me, move the line. I'm nodding.

"Kok, can it be in first grade?" I was curious, making Budi and Randi astonished. Randi looked back as if asking, who is that?

"I'm staying class, Ki." Said Aga blushed in shame.

This means my friends in first grade are growing. We sang a song that started with the word Indonesia. The right hand is next to the hat as if it were banishing the sunlight. I imitated the movements of the ceremony participants in front of me. A woman waved her hand to guide the song. When the hand wave was slow, then the tone of the song was slow, but when the hand wave was fast, then the tune accelerated. The song ends with a red flag on top and a white one under the head of a pole pulled by a rope by two ceremonial flag officers. Upright grak. The voice of the ceremonial commander shouted loudly in our midst.

"Sut...kamu last year why not go to school?" Aga.

"I'm in a mess, Ga." Show me my hand.

The ceremonial commander instructed the participants of the ceremony to rest on the spot. At first I was confused what it meant to rest in that place. But I saw the ceremonial commander straddling his two legs shoulder-width apart, and hiding his hands behind his back, I imitated him.

Good morning and greetings to all of us.

The Headmaster stood tall in front of the three teachers, one of whom was long-haired, beautiful, and smiling. We replied, good morning.

The board of teachers and the parents of the students who attended the flag ceremony today are the ones I respect. Students and students I love and am proud of. First of all, praise and thanks be to the Almighty God.

"You know, what subject teacher is that?" Aga asked me who was seriously listening to the Headmaster's speech in front of us. The index finger of Aga pointed at the Headmaster.

"I don't know, Ga." I answered in a very small voice.

"That's the math teacher.The name's Mr. Mad. You'll be surprised how he teaches us later." Aga.

I did not respond too much to Aga's statement. I focused on listening to the Headmaster's long lecture.

I hope this school can be a second home for students while studying. We as teachers will do our best to educate our students. Right now, ever since the sisters all set foot first in this school, that means you are part of our family.

The Principal is passionate about providing motivation, advice, and direction especially for our new students. I repeated the Headmaster's words in my heart while smiling happily and muttering, I have a new family. The Headmaster's greeting ended with applause. Aga clapped very strongly, excitedly. From then on, he was just a lot of talk.

The ceremonial commander shouted, upright grak. We simultaneously close our legs and straighten our hands in harmony with our bodies.

The sun is getting hotter. Before the flag ceremony ended, the choir group presented a song that Aga and I had heard before. Song of affection, babe. It is sung in a very melodious and loud, compact voice. Some of the students who remembered the lyrics of the song also sang cheerfully. I followed the final lyrics. I memorized it because I kicked it too often at home. My mouth was struggling when the initial and middle lyrics, that part I had not memorized. Again I saw the strange behavior of Aga. As long as the song was sung, Aga did not stop shaking his body. She opened her mouth as if singing, but I did not hear her voice.

The Headmaster returned to his room, we were disbanded. The flag ceremony is over.