The Struggle of a Child
Many views
"What is that dad?" ask me above the rickshaw.
"That's ice mixed, son," answered my father after turning his head looking in the direction I pointed.
"Es, mix dad," I'm surprised. "Daddy is mixed what's the ice?" manya. Staring at the ice mixed cart from afar.
My father immediately smiled over the rickshaw. When I hear my question.
"Es mix it up on tape, wear lipstick, use fish eyes, wear... ." My father was silent for a moment. He glanced at me with a faint smile. "... The tree is a lot of mixture, son," replied my father. Little tickled.
"Dad then. I want to," my sister's begging my father with her spoiled tone of voice and face. "Dad want to buy it!"
"Yes, you want to?" ask dad. Radiant.
"Yes Dad, would. I want to know the taste of mixed ice," I replied. "Because we only drink ice candles often," I explained slowly. Putting face bent.
"Yes Dad. Let us buy" asked my brother who was sitting like he had been sitting when we first wanted to go. Swinging one of his right hand in front of my father as a signal to let my brother buy it.
"Let me buy it" said my father in a happy voice mixed with happiness because we were so happy today.
My father also marginalized the rickshaw he brought to a place that is not on pedestrians and not passed by vehicles as well.
My father who was dusk then went down and marginalized his tricycles. He walked with a long foot through the road that was filled with people who were milling on the road and a little almost want to be hit. I saw him in shock and panicked.
The mixed ice located just across the street we stopped by was very clashing with the buyers in line. My father also crossed the road through a vehicle that passed by carefully. Under the scorching sun my father crossed the road alone. I was sitting on the rickshaw looking at my father who looked happy because he had managed to make me and my sister happy today.
🌵🌵🌵
The mixed ice I was waiting for has now arrived before my eyes.
"This is your order" said my father with a cheerful face. Ice into our hands.
"Dad, is there ice?!" said my impatient sister wanted to open it.
"Thank you Dad" I replied with pleasure. Take the ice hanging in the air.
"Dad, why so many times?" many wonder. Glancing at the ice held by my sister.
"Yes, that's for your mother one," my father said in a happy tone of voice because he was satisfied today had taken us around enjoying the beautiful scenery of the river although it was very simple and had also taken us around the city.
"You're happy today, aren't you?" ask my father to shine. Look at me and my sister. "Dad feels really good because it can make you happy" said my father.
"We're very happy father" I replied happily. Take ice from plastic.
"Dad, we rarely go for walks" my sister continued. Stirring mixed ice.
"Dad knows son. I'm sorry Dad couldn't take you guys often - often like this" my dad replied.
"Dad, we love this very much" I said swinging the ice into the air. Cut my father's talk.
"If you like to spend it," our resume immediately cut off my expression of happiness that still holds me.
My father is very happy today to pedal his pedicab. His face was getting infinitely radiant so he was so eagerly pedaling the rickshaw violently.
"Dad what else ?" I want to know. Looking in the other direction.
"Which one, son?" ask dad. Turning his head glanced at me from the top of the pedicab bench, followed by his two pedaling legs.
"That one, Dad!" point me in enthusiastically.
"That's a balloon, son!" my father looked at my hand pointing.
"The balloon why is there a picture of the head?" ask my sister astonished.
"Picture the cat's head" I'm talking to.
My father immediately nodded. "Son, the balloon is now a lot of variety," replied my father in a soft tone of voice that echoed in the air mixed with a gust of wind.
My brother and I continued to sip the mixed ice my father bought. Very good mixed ice. I really enjoyed the sweet and soft taste.
"Dad, if in our school there is only ice candles," I said gently. Keep on sipping the ice I'm holding. Returns the topic of conversation back to discussing mixed ice. Glancing at my sister who spent a delicious mixed ice.
"Father tomorrow-tomorrow buy again, yes!" pinta. Sipping his ice that stayed a little longer.
"If you have a lot of money. I'll buy it, son," said my father. Glanced at my sister who was enjoying mixed ice.
"But not often. You'll be sick later" my mother said. Holding a plastic ice mixture that he had not yet drunk. "If you get sick just because of this. It's all going to run out" my mother continued. Look - look at the icy plastic with jelly while swinging it into the air to and fro.
My father glanced at him. Even the straw that sipped the ice I bit inside my mouth strongly. The ice that I want to get sucked in doesn't go away.
"Yes, your mother was right. Don't do it often, son," my father said a little to justify what our aunt said just now although little did he indirectly insinuate me who was often sick and spent a lot of money.
"If you're sick like no one's child" he said with annoyance. "...he quickly healed," he continued whispering directly in the ear insinuating me. Straws stopped sipping ice. I was stunned silent and stared at the road we were still going through.
I who was sitting on his lap kept turning the eyeballs looking at the people walking loosely. Everything that is plastered on the side of the road so much I see especially children's toy sellers.
"Eat him, you guys can't get a lot of snacks. And your father can't obey all your will either" my mother told me. Looking to the right side right at my sister who was sitting. Holding the mixed ice plastic that has been used up. As if to insinuate my sister.
I bit the straw even more so that the mixed ice no longer felt cold. The ice that had been mixed into it was no longer visible. Now only drops of frost felt soaked this hand.
All this time I often thought that the connecting mother married by my father was a good mother who could give us affection. However, all of that looks fake. It's not real according to my dreams.
"Liyan, if you're full?" asked my father who did not hear what his wife said to me.
"It's Dad" I replied slowly. I'm sitting on my mom's lap but I'm a little scared.
"If you're hungry, son, just tell me we'll stop by for a cake" my father said. Swung his hat into the air and put it back on.
"Father if I want to go home," asked my sister in a raucous tone of voice. "I'm tired, Dad. From earlier on top of the rickshaw," he whispered. Seemed calm as if my sister did not hear what was said by our mother in her ear earlier.
"Okay, son," answered my father.
While my eyes were still glaring at the balloon that could fly with a thread.
"Dad, why can it fly? but it wasn't, Dad!" I asked confusedly to see it.
"That balloon was put on a rock. Let's not fly up. If you fly later no one will buy, Son," my father explained.
"So, Dad. That's if we want to lay the stone away, Dad?" aska I want to know. Glancing at my father back to sipping mixed ice.
"Yes, son," answered my father briefly.
The multibillion-dollar vehicle broke the silence and deafened its ears with its noisy voice.
.
.
.
Seriate...
Yuk! Friends dropped by my friend's novel huh ! 🙏🥰