TINI SUKETI
15. The Beginning of Terlena

Tini was still crouching down to the writing in the backyard of a newspaper. That condolence speech was not only one, but filled the entire backyard. Mr. Alie died yesterday afternoon. The old man who had helped him collect the coffers of money, for the sake of Evi's college and Dayat school had died.

Tini crying for Evi. He had to start from scratch again looking for parents who do not need to be served all kinds, but want to give him money.

However, on the other hand Tini was relieved. Like Mr. Alie's talk all along. The old man was indeed impatient to leave the world, because he was sure to meet the wife he loved.

“So, where?” mak Robin suddenly patted Tini's shoulder gently according to his version.

With the power of ‘soft’ that Tini's face almost kissed the face of Mr. Alie plastered on top of the newspaper.

“Yes, how are you going? Life goes on, right? Everyone must be dead. Just wait for a turn,” replied Tini, folded the newspaper and dumped it. “Badness the Saroh. Why not just talk? I have to spend more money to buy this newspaper,” said Tini with a very visible medhoknya.

“Sore this, don't work, you. I'm dead Alie.” Mak Robin pulled out a plastic chair and sat down near Tini. Robin came down from his mother's lap and walked around the plastic chair.

“Died, Mak! Died, gone. My father's rooster, called dead. Mr. Alie you call dead.” Tini went into her room. His throat was dry because he had not had time to drink his morning tea.

“Same, Tini! Dead is also the point,” refutes Mak Robin. “Which Iyanya, already love you the same Alie. You defend kali, bah.” Mak Robin laughed out loud.

“Matau!” maki Tini from the room. “I got pretty good money with Mr. Alie. For my services just rapping birds once in a while, that's a lot, Mak. The rest, I can only make Mr. Alie happy at the end of his age in the simplest way. Listen to him telling me about the macems. Finding them is easy, Mom. But who wants to leave time to listen to our story, that's very little. That's why Mr. Alie paid me dearly.” Tini came back out of her room with a glass of tea in hand. He still wears a batik negligee along his calf.

Tini then shook her body in a plastic chair. His hand raised the glass and sipped the warm tea slowly. His eyes glared, unintentionally staring at the door of Bu Nani's room that was opening opposite him.

“The late Mr. Alie once talked to me. He said, if someone has taken the time to hear us tell stories, it means he appreciates our existence. We also have to appreciate. Don't bother the people who are good to us. Later people even kapok, he said.” Tini then took out a cigarette from the box and lit it.

“Teros? Mr Alie nobody said that people who smoke can die quickly?” ask Mama Robin.

“Neg. Mr. Alie smokes, really. He died 78 years. Tuh, look!” Tini kicked the newspaper folded near her feet.

And the day of Tini's new struggle began. A week after the passing of Mr. Alie, Tini has not received any guests at all in karaoke. He is very selective in finding new customers.

After having a one-on-one conversation with Maisaroh in the dressing room, Tini specialized herself for elderly guests. And it was approved by Maisaroh. Mr. Alie's return, has had a little bit of a positive influence on their friendship. They are more engaged in sharing.

“My sick book, Tin,” said Maisaroh one night. “I've been working here. My savings are not much, but it seems enough to make capital open a business in the village.”

“You open what business?” ask Tini.

“Laundry kiloans. There is nothing in my village. My house deket factory. Many employees are still single and do not have time to wash clothes. I bought one machine. The rest I do myself. Nothing, for starters. Importantly, I was able to spend time with my mother in her old age. I'm not worried about filial. Ever since my husband disappeared, my mother has been thinking. His heart is hard because I,” said Maisaroh, then sucked his cigarette deeply.

Tini was stunned to hear the speech of Maisaroh who was more senior than her. Their working hours are over. But, heavy rain made them sit waiting to subside in the hotel basement.

“You've been here a long time too. It's been a year, Tin. Don't dawdle. At least your status is single. If you see a nice guy, don't stay here anymore. Image is ugly,” continued Maisaroh.

“Your mouth should also be tuned. Not everyone can understand your jokes,” said Maisaroh. “If you don't really know about other people, you don't want to. Like yesterday, you said mothers are very compact with their sons. In fact, it was his girlfriend. The guy's giigolo.” Maisaroh laughing.

“Iya. But really, really. No matter the child. It's double L,” said Tini.

“What is it?” ask Maisaroh.

“Lon-te lanang,” reply Tini. Then the two women laughed together.

It was the last night when Tini and Maisaroh could have a long conversation outside of working hours. A month later, Tini again cried over the departure of someone.

“You don't cry like gini. I'm, right, not dead like Mr. Alie. You can come to my village. Don't forget me, if you're married. I'm not changing my number, Tin. My phone number is also listed somewhere else. If there is anything, it is not lost. Udah—udah, don't cry.” Maisaroh still hugged Tini on the steps of the side door steps of the hotel. That night he deliberately came to leave, with Ardi, his son.

Tini let go of her hug, “Get malem bus? What time?” tini asked, with a mottled mascara forming a circle around her eyes.

“You are like a sundel bolong,” said Maisaroh, removing the wet tissue from his bag and wiping it around Tini's eyes.

“You? No salim, Ma'am?” Tini thrust her hand at Ardi.

“Mbak Tini crying continues. I want salim to be confused,” said Ardi, welcoming Tini's hand and touching it to the forehead.

“You're a diligent school, yes. Your mother's tired of making money. He loves you, so work a bone slam. Don't be angry because you're often left alone. Later, if you grow up, you must be grateful to have a gini kayak mother,” said Tini, rubbing the back of Maisaroh who is now swiping tears.

“Be careful on the road, yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry, if you've been talking wrong all this time. I never had a friend in the village. I take care of my brothers all the time. Complaining about them is also impossible. To my father especially. Mostly to the chicken. That's the safest, because it can't go anywhere.” Tini was crying again.

The crying alternated. It's barely over, if only time doesn't go by. They hugged each other for a while and patted each other on the back.

At the time when the atmosphere was surrounding, a security guard who used to work in the basement passed from inside the hotel.

“Eh, Where are you going? Not working anymore?” the security guard asked, stopping his steps near the two women who had just let go of a hug.

“You go home. My mother is sick,” Maisaroh replied, cleaning up the rest of her tears.

“Whose menu is it? How come I never squirm?” the guard looked at Tini.

“This is my friend, his name is Tini. Known, Tin—” Maisaroh poked Tini's arm and pointed towards the young guard in front of them.

“Mbak Tini, takinin .. I'm Gatot Sayuti, basement security.” The security guard flashed his sweetest smile at Tini. A smile that makes Tini's heart feel cool like AC 1 PK.

To Be Continued