What a Beautiful Divorce
93. Earrings

Prapto and Pinaka arrive at their courtyard. Pinaka went down and stepped into the house to open the door, while Prapto continued to park the motor to the terrace so that by night he did not need to go all the way to enter the motorbike.

“Mas want to drink coffee?” pinaka asked after opening the door.

“Iya, Pinaka.” Prapto. He sat on the porch seat and scrolled the phone.

Before long Prapto scrolls the phone, Pinaka comes with a glass of coffee and warm tea, then sits down.

Prapto looked at his wife, wrinkled his face, and asked, “You forgot to put the bag, Pinaka?”

Pinaka blushed. He smiled, took something from his bag and gave it to Prapto. “I made this for Mas,” he said.

Prapto looked at Pinaka while taking the folds of cloth he was giving. He lifted the cloth and expanded it.

“Syal,” says Prapto.

“Mas like? Color is okay?” ask Pinaka. He waited for Prapto's answer.

Prapto. He folded the scarf and then draped it to the neck. “I like its simple shape and also its dark brown color. Thank you, Pinaka.”

Pinaka's face is radiant. “True Mas Like? Not just to entertain me, right?”

Prapto. “I really like, Pinaka.”

“Thank God. I'm glad you like it. I chose dark brown because I didn't like red. And also, this color will match all Mas.” clothes Pinaka again noticed his scarf.

“How to learn to make its natural fabric, Pinaka. You like?” Prapto lit his cigarette.

“Like, Mas. Another thing with cooking. Natural fabric production will then be sold. Bu Rena said, he was still waiting for a request for a type of fabric from Ms. Irin. After that, residents will make it in their homes. Bu Rena and Mr. Purnomo will go around the village to monitor the manufacture of the fabric.”

“Keren,” sahut Prapto. “What will there be a manufacture of products other than pkaian, Pinaka?”

Pinaka put down his freshly gulped tea glass. “There, Mas. Later will also make wallets, bags, curtains, and so on.”

They continued chatting, joking, and laughing until night fell with its dark curtains.

***

Lighting lights have been lit throughout the houses and buildings in the village Kejora. And also with street lights. And in the air, twinkling moving points, which come from fireflies, add to the splendid glow of Kejora village on that night.

In his yard, Mr. Oscar was standing watching an old sedan car whose paint had faded and was less shiny despite being hit by moonlight.

Ms. Kades emerged from behind the door putting a glass of coffee and warm tea on the patio table. “Drink first, Sir,” said. She sat and watched her husband looking at the car. “Our car is damaged, Sir?”

Mr. Oscar sighed, shaking his head. “No, Mom. I noticed the paint, a lot has faded.” He then turned and stepped onto the terrace while igniting the shell.

Bu Inari smiled to see that her husband's shell was still not on the terrace. “Where can the flame, sir, if ignited while walking so. Wind is pretty strong.”

Mr. Oscar sat down. He smiled without removing the shell from his mouth and re-igniting. After exhaling smoke, he said, “Iya, Bu Kades. Look at our car, Mom. It's old, faded anyway, isn't it?”

Ms. Inari looked at her car. “Iya, Sir. But the machine ‘kan is still healthy, only the color is faded.” She turned back to her husband. “What do you want to buy a new car?”

“No, Mom. I just want to repaint our car with a new color, light yellow. What say?”

Mr. Oscar nodded. “But it seems hard to find that color, Mom. I checked on the internet, no one is selling the color. What to import from abroad, huh, ma'am?

“Can be, Sir. But masa’ in Endonesa no one sells it?”

“Grandpa! Grandma!”

Mr. Oscar and Ms. Inari turned to the gate to hear the cheers of their grandchildren.

Stepen parked the bike. He, Lastri, and Lapen stepped onto the terrace to greet Mr. Oscar and Ms. Inari.

“Tonight I slept with Grandpa and Grandma, yes,” Lapen said after climbing onto Mr. Oscar's lap.

Mr. Oscar and Mr. Inari nodded in smiles. They are always happy when their children, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren come.

Stepen then sat down, while Lastri took a plate to copy the sponge cake she brought, and made her husband a drink.

***

The next day, early in the morning, Nimo and Arini had arrived at Prapto's house. They both wore caping, just like Pinaka and Prapto who were already sitting on the terrace with caping on their heads.

“The employees are a little cloudy, Boss, it seems that today will be a cool day for harvest,” Nimo said. He and Arini sat down.

Prapto. “Iya, Nimo. Last night Timo called me asking when the American truck could come to pick up the produce and processed food of Kejora village. I told him about a week away. Right, right?”

“True, Boss. Mr. Koswara Lennon's father has not finished the harvest. And on the way here earlier I saw some gardens also have not been harvested.”

Prapto. “You think the harvest we can finish today, Nimo?”

“Can, Boss. We ‘kan harvest four.”

Arini and Pinaka who had gone inside to make four cups of coffee had returned to the terrace. They chat until the coffee runs out and start the garden harvest.

As Nimo predicted, they finished the harvest at four in the afternoon. All garden produce is collected in storage buildings.

After harvesting, Pinaka and Arini make a natural cloth together on the terrace. Ms. Rena just called Pinaka, saying that Ms. Irin had determined four kinds of natural fabrics ordered by her company.

While Prapto and Nimo, they went to Mr. Oscar's house to report the completion of the harvest, which would be recorded by the village chief Kejora tingcai.

***

Arriving at Mr. Oscar's house, Prapto and Nimo see the Kejora village chief sitting on the porch wall, facing his old car while eating food.

“Report, Mr. Oscar, our garden has been finished harvesting,” cheer Nimo, while parking the bike.

“Why not eat at the table, Mr Kades?” ask Prapto.

Chewing Oscar beckoned with his right hand to let Prapto and Nimo sit. He then moved to the chair. After finishing chewing, Mr. Oscar told about the color of the car paint that he did not find.

“What's just abroad there is that color, Nak Prapto, Nak Nimo?” Mr. Oscar closed his story with a question.

Prapto. “No, Mr. Kades. Here's how ..”