Wagering
Theatricals

Entering the second day of the three days given by his mother, Baskara began to feel like he was in prison. Now his mother not only forbids him from leaving the nursery, but also forbids anyone from visiting including members of Pain Killer and the beautiful Sabiru.

I don't know what was the motivation for his mother to do this, because when he asked, his mother just told him to obey. Perhaps there was only one plus point from his mother's decision, namely the loss of the chance of the snake Jasmine to wrestle by his side.

“Mama want to go again?” he asked the mother who seemed to be getting ready to put the phone in a tote bag.

“Yes, no business for a moment. You're here with Papa, the henchman.” The mother said in one breath. Then the woman passed from before him, walking hurriedly to the door without a word of goodbye to the husband who was sitting on the sofa and was observing his every move.

The atmosphere left behind by the mother is certainly not good. Baskara could feel the apparent discomfort from the look on his father's face, which led him to recall the conversation his parents had last night.

She was half-awakened from sleep when she felt her mother's hand caress each side of her face, hair, and shoulders. Then the conversation that took place between his mother and father made the awareness he had completely come back. From there he finally knew that whatever problems occurred between his father and mother had not reached the word end, and he could do nothing but keep pretending to sleep while listening to more hurtful things.

How his mother referred to him as my son instead of our son is also the most painful part to hear. It was as if the woman had actually established the intention to end everything, but her decision always ended up with staying because of her. It made Baskara feel guilty, thinking that his disappearance from their vantage point might be one of the best solutions he could offer.

Ah, if only Fabian had agreed to his invitation to flee abroad together …

“You bored?”

Baskara's daydreams fell away instantly. Another scenario he had just tried stacking was also a blur when the heavy voice of the father was in the air. He found that the man knew he was walking towards him, with one hand that goes into the pocket of pants as one of the characteristics that make it still look young at the age of almost half a century.

“You out?” ask his father again, but the first question he has not answered.

Instead of nodding his head, Baskara let out a heavy sigh. He then placed the pillow in an upright position, making it a base to lean on his back because the headboard of his patient bed had begun to feel hard.

“And can extra extra days again? Big no, Papa. Baskara is tired of dying and wants to quickly get out of here.” Her chattering. He knew his mother's decision was an even more dangerous sentence than a death sentence for a serious criminal inmate. If the verdict is challenged, or he seeks to appeal as a form of negotiation, he will only get a heavier verdict instead.

“You came out the same Papa, so it should be okay.”

Baskara shook her head. “Baskara don't want to take risks. Papa also knows for himself how scary Mama is if you are angry,” he said softly. Her mother was rarely angry, but once her emotions exploded, the earth felt like it could be destroyed in an instant. Of course Baskara did not have that much courage to provoke his anger.

“So you want to stay here?”

It's not a question that needs an answer, actually. But Baskara still with a chest roomy said, “Yes want how else?” with a super pathetic tone.

His father is not a typical entertainer who is good at using words, Baskara clearly knows that. So when his father no longer spoke and instead took out a pack of cigarettes complete with lighters, then thrust the two objects to him, Baskara was already very happy. He cannot expect too much.

“But here should not smoke,” he said, although in the end he still pulled one cigarette from the open package.

“As long as it is not caught, it should be okay.” Jeffrey said lightly. He also took a cigarette, slipped it between thick lips and without hesitation lit the lighter.

At that time, he was only 13 years old and he was a junior high school student. As a teenager whose curiosity is still very high, he once tried to smoke. He remembered very well, it was Friday where his father came home from work late at night. Coincidentally, he had just woken up because a nightmare that came to make him unable to fall back asleep in a fast time.

In the living room, he saw his father suck his cigarette deeply, looking so solemnly enjoying the smoke coming in and out of his respiratory organs. Out of curiosity, he innocently asked his father to teach him how to smoke properly so that the fumes did not choke him.

And, his father agreed. The man actually taught him, from the first time he was still coughing until he got used to it a little.

“Papa ajarin you just let you know how it feels like smoking like an adult. But that does not mean you can smoke from now on,” said his father at that time. “Wait until you grow up. At least, until you have a ID and can go anywhere by yourself without the help of Papa and Mama.”

Baskara kept it nicely on her head, and she really did. He did not touch cigarettes since that night, until then he got a ID card and also a SIM as a sign that he was no longer a snot boy whose all activities still had to be with parental supervision.

Jeffrey is a role model for Baskara in the past.— now might as well still be, but what he wants to exemplify is his father's former demeanor, before their family is as fragmented as it is now.

“By the way, the smoke is everywhere.” Baskara complains after his nostalgic activities are over. He realized his father's cigarette smoke had filled the room, making it look like he had just been sprayed with mosquito repellent smoke. What's name? Ah, right, fogging. This room was like it had just been fogged.

“Asapnya will disappear if anyone opens the door,” said Jeffrey.

“And if it was Mama, we would get punished.” Chirps Baskara, then he chuckles softly. The words and actions were not synchronized at all, because after that the young man actually followed her cigarette and began to suck it with full of passion.

"Don't forget to pray,” said Jeffrey suddenly.

Baskara frowned, “Create?”

“Make your own safety. Who knows, Mama is again on the way back here because there is his goods that are left behind.”

“Papa's Responsibility,” said Baskara lightly and then back to smoking his cigarette. “Baskara just tell Mama that all this Papa— ideaand it's true, right?”

“Basic.” Jeffrey sneered, but then he smiled faintly.

The next minutes, only they spent smoking each cigarette while occasionally throwing jokes ala-ala children tongkrongan. From the funny to the crisp, all of them laughed together.

However, in the midst of the laughter that he echoed out loud, there was an ache that began to be felt in the corner of Baskara's heart. Because he realized that the interaction that occurred between himself and his father at this time may be just a charade.

Don't worry much, Bas. Accept it, you can't expect more. Inwardly, one more laugh escaped after hearing another joke his father made.

Seriate