Man In the Twighlight City

An argument ensued between Me and Amanda. Chat that was originally relaxed and full of intimacy. A moment later it began to change. When ... Amanda tells about the busyness of her daily life. From noon, until the afternoon, here are other reasons. Then start stating. That. The portion he earned was not for him. But. This has been a long-standing agreement. Between my aunt and Amanda's mother, my wife. My wife's role is just a signature scratch as proof of acceptance. Amanda! "Is not that. I've said this several times. For you to reject it!" My tone of voice was slightly raised. It seemed. Amanda didn't respond. This is not detrimental according to him. Maybe even, it's profitable. This activity has been going on for a long time. Even before marriage, this had become something normal in Amanda's family. Regarding the scholarship allowance received by the family. Especially Amanda. Because what is written is in his name. Every child in Amanda's extended family accepted her. Only the month of receipt may be different. The size can be said to be quite good. If calculated in full nominal terms each semester. It makes my forehead slightly wrinkled, and angry. Amanda's name is still listed, still receiving benefits. He had graduated from the university six years ago. Of course. If any, there are family members who work at the university. Even from when the university was just founded. None other than my father-in-law's sister and my brother-in-law. Maybe this is part of a pilot program from the university, to improve the quality of education. For the community around campus. But this is the reality of what happened. A policy that initially had good intentions. If not accompanied by proper supervision. It is not impossible to create deception. Even if left alone. This will give rise to the roots of a culture of justification. *** "Never mind Amanda... My decision is final." Give me back the gift. and, you signed it this afternoon. With Aunt Yossi!" "I don't want something that is not ours. Haven't I told you the reason?" I thought back. How hard my journey is. You have to pay for yourself to get an education. I have to be willing to be separated from my father and mother since I was small. Lived with Grandmother at first. Then it continues, to Bude who is none other than my mother's older sister. Not because my big family comes from poor families. However. I ... can be said to be one of the effects. From the drama of my own extended family, and I am one of the victims. It's hard to tell in detail. However, when viewed from one angle only. Maybe that's understandable. If you have a father who worked as a journalist during the New Order era. One more thing that makes one of the characteristics of the father. It seems to have descended upon me. Is stubborn and difficult to manage. Maybe the term "idealist" is suitable for my late father. But, of course not for me. That a wife must follow her husband after marriage. I often hear spoken from the words of the father. Whatever the case, bear together. Without interference from any party. Husband and wife are equal according to their respective rights and obligations. *** There was a knock on the door. So ... "Amanda!" My mother-in-law's voice was heard. Accompanied by the friction of the door opened. It seems my mother-in-law has heard our Debate. So he decided to suppress it. Indeed, our house is only five meters from the parent's house. This is your request from Amanda. Find out Amanda is pregnant. After waiting over a year he wanted us. To stay a while. Until her child gave birth. Or, along with their grandchildren later when they are toddlers. My child is his first grandchild. I complied. As a sign of my respect for him. "Derryant" Called Amanda's mother with a smile. "Amanda is in the room mom. Breastfeeding Dennis" I interrupted. My eyes saw the door was still half open. I saw Father sitting on the bamboo bale that had just arrived this afternoon. I approached Father while closing the living room door. "Want to smoke, sir?" I offered politely. I handed the pack of cigarettes to Dad. Before, took a stick for me to light up. As far as I know. Dad is not a real smoker. But don't know why. Since I married her daughter and lived here. My father often accompanies me to smoke. Either on this terrace or on a long bench next to the house. Which is an empty land, a place to dry clothes. "I am indeed a bad influence on my in-laws," I said to myself while smiling. father-in-law is a very good person. He's not a type. Who can be invited to talk about various topics of conversation? Only very light ones. Like..."Was it hot or rainy there?" Or, sometimes trivial questions. Like "Were there traffic jams passing through the market, or not?" That's all. *** Who knows ... Maybe because of low self-esteem. Make him like that. Even during the marriage ceremony. He did not dare to pass on his children. Thus, it must be represented by an influential person from the Big Family. In general, husbands are afraid of existing wives. Especially in this region. One thing that is interesting in my opinion. He is not just proud to have the first grandson. But there is one thing that makes me smile seeing it. Namely... Likes to imitate my nonchalant attitude. Maybe this is a new experience for his family. Like right now. Seeing that I'm used to shopping and cooking myself, or preparing food after work. While Amanda. Knew this from before we got married. Enough to make him happy or maybe proud? I don't know... I'm just a hobby of cooking, nothing more. ** "Derry...!" “ Tomorrow. Do you want to accompany me to the bird market? At the same time, I want to buy a fishing rod... Would you like that?" You want to keep some love birds. Also want to follow you if you want to go fishing! It seems... "You also want to feel the sensation, of eating your bait," continued Mr. "Not tomorrow. Yes, sir! How about next week?" I refuse. Just giving an excuse for unfinished office work. Besides that, I have to reschedule immunizations at the hospital for Dennis, my first child. In my heart, I said, "Still far from payday, sir!" Ha ha ha... *** Open door. Mother-in-law looks smiling at me, while closing it again. So ... "My husband! Come in later. The front gate. Don't forget to lock it," he said with a straight face and walked past us who still wanted to continue the conversation. "Let's have a cup of coffee first. Yes, sir?" I offered it again. I'm Dinartika Wulansari Slowly. I slowed down the vehicle. Occasionally, eyes turn. Looking for a parking attendant. Maybe he's busy tidying up the rows of two-wheeled vehicles. Along the sidewalk. This morning there were so many activities that made this market seem crowded. Truly. This location is not a real market. However. Is a shadow terminal. Which is operational, and only takes place at night until the early hours of the morning. Even at the beginning of its formation, it was just a roadside football field. Owned by the landlord. Native residents of the territory that has been granted. However, because management requires funds. So along the side of the road, it is rented out. For some travel agency offices. There are so many benefits to be had. Make the economy of the surrounding area improve. Gradually, it turned into a commercial area. The transit point is big buses. Between cities and between provinces. Its existence is currently still unofficial. The management of this shadow market and terminal is still managed independently. Policies according to customary rules. This means that only indigenous people have the right to manage and enjoy the results. Sir! Can we park this vehicle here?" I asked. I asked my father to get down and move the vehicle. In a position that still left a place, and I felt ... Suitable for my motorbike. "Duh...!" "Why is this someone's motorbike, use the handlebar lock!" Father grumbled as he shifted the motorbike he was holding. Suddenly ...! "Hey!"..."What do you want to do with that my motorbike, Hah!" There was a shouting sound from behind. Dad turned his head and immediately answered. "I want to burn it!"... "Why? Are you... Not willing!" "Duh!" I muttered to myself. Not even parking yet. There's just something that makes the heart flutter. I immediately got out of the vehicle. And turned to the surprising voice behind him. But the sight I saw was not like the voice that just shouted. I found out. An old man. About half a century. But still looks dashing. By wearing special clothes. A maroon cap on his head. He also seemed to start smiling kindly at me. *** "So this is your new son-in-law!" His hand kindly shook mine. They also hugged. As if we hadn't seen each other in a long time. I was shocked too. Remembering this father. The one standing in front. None other than Amanda's marriage guardian, during the ceremony. ... Ah! It turns out. I realized again that culture does not reflect behavior. We walked side by side. Towards a bamboo bale in a hut in the middle of the terminal. "So... Why are you here so early in the morning?" The joke of a man who is called Bisri. “Aah... Yes, right!” My memory is like a jolt. "Uncle Bisri... !" I almost forgot. He is a person who is respected by the indigenous people. One thing that amazed me was. It turns out. He is not a native native, but initially an overseas immigrant from Central Java. He used to work as a bus conductor between cities and provinces. He was the one who initially initiated the local population to utilize customary land for welfare. "Just for fun. I also want to have several pets. That's how it is... Many people say, so don't have a lot of wealth. We need to have hobbies," answered the father in his typical dialect. "Would you like to take a look too?" Uncle Bisri asked. With slightly narrowed eyes. Emphasize something. "Yes, it's mandatory!" Dad replied "This is by the way. Have you had your coffee yet?" Uncle Bisri asked. As he took out his device from the belt pocket he was wearing. My eyes wander around. Explore all corners of the terminal. Meanwhile, Bisri's uncle started his conversation. Dad casually lit the cigarette lying next to him. My ears captured Uncle Bisri's conversation with his interlocutor. A woman's voice was heard through the loudspeaker on the device. "Okay, just let it all out!" Uncle Bisri exclaimed. "Okay, Uncle... Wait a minute, okay!" Reply to the voice. "Don't stay too long!" "Yes... Uncle!" Came a reply. Then, immediately cut off the communication. From a stall in the corner of the terminal. Two female figures can be seen walking side by side. They look like they're carrying something. One of them is seen waving. Against us, who are sitting. Reflexively, the three of us stood up, got up to straighten the bale, and moved it to face the table. Suddenly. I saw one of these women. Half running to quickly reach this place. And? "Be careful! You'll stumble!" Uncle Bisri said half shouting. Remind. I saw you standing. His smile widens. As if my eyes couldn't believe what was happening in front of me. The woman's figure. It turned out that he was still a teenager in his twenties, who suddenly ran up to Father who had stood up. Kissing hands. And hugs you happily. "Sir. Have you been here before?" "With whom?" "How come you didn't tell me earlier?" Ask. As if not giving a chance to those who are asked. To answer and, it seems. This girl doesn't even care. You didn't answer the girl's question. Just accompanying the girl's body to sit inching. Next to him. Not long ago "Here is the flask, and the glass. Uncle!" second girl. Which is a little bit older. Because his demeanor is a little calmer. I've been surprised ever since. Now, I'm wondering a little. Even more confused, or rather awkward. Until then, Uncle Bisri patted my back. To immediately open, a plastic bag filled with various fried foods in front of me. Then Uncle Bisri opened the conversation. "You seem confused?" While looking at me. "Never mind! Eat it fried, while it's still warm!" His finger pointed at the several cups of coffee that had been served. His eyes shifted. Towards Father who was sighing. Then smiled again. "Derry," said Dad slowly. "Here, introduce your sister-in-law. Her name...?" You haven't finished talking yet. The girl came over. gave me a position. And hand salute. And? "I'm Dinartika Wulan Sari" Just call me "Wulan, sister!" He said confidently. However? When his eyes met mine. When I looked at him. He immediately looked down. "This chubby-cheeked one... is his female cousin. Renny!" Uncle Bisri introduced him again. Explaining to me, that the two of them were none other than his nephew. Renny is the son of Uncle Bisri's younger brother who is nineteen years old. State University Student. Join him to help the business while completing his education. Meanwhile, Wulan is only fifteen years old. Just had his transfer letter taken care of to study here. He comes from Yogjakarta. His mother's hometown. Who is none other than Aunt Mala's younger sister? Or his wife. Uncle Bisri told at length about the two of them. "Oooh ... !" I could only nod, listening to every explanation. "Oh yes, Derry... Uncle, stay for a moment, okay? "Your father and I will go to the other side of the terminal. Take care of another building that still needs to be renovated." "Wulan. Do you want to come?" Father suddenly asked with a smile. "No, ah...S already know!" "Every day I also often see it" Wulan answered lightly. Just a little joke. "Yes, already! Just accompany your Mas Derry, just to chat" "If, if not. How about, you go take him to the fishing shop!" asked Dad again. They both hurried away from us. Followed by Renny who returned to the shop in the corner of the terminal. Just me and Wulan. Who now looks like he is having fun playing with his gadget. While chewing the fried food in his left hand. I looked at this teenage girl while asking. "Wulan. So, when do you start school?" Then I continued. "Then, where is the school...where?" In a curious tone. Without turning around and continuing to play the device. "Ah, big brother Derry. Kepo!" " Didn't bro Derry see? What's there, if it's not the school building, from here? Have you seen it? It's as big as a birdcage!" Duh! ..."How stupid I am!" While unconsciously tapping his forehead in front of him. Wulan laughed as she pocketed the device she was holding, then got up and pulled my arm. "Come on Bro Derry, shall we go to the fishing shop?!" "That's it... just leave the food, the important thing is that it's covered." It seems like Wulan understands what I'm worried about. Regarding the food in front of you. However, Wulan accelerated her steps to get ahead. Entering the narrow entrance of this fishing shop. So as expected. Causing my body to be crushed by his arms. While laughing, Wulan continued to force herself to go ahead. What a carefree teenager, I thought with a grimace. "Joo.... Bejo!?" Wulan shouted. Tried to call the store clerk. Wulan didn't seem the least bit awkward. Even though he hasn't lived in this area for long. Makes me ask again. "You. know... Aren't you, new to living here?" "Uh... Still curious... "Wulan, right? From birth to the third grade of elementary school, it's here!" Again I fell silent. With a light answer, but right on target by this girl in front of me. You can see a shop employee coming out of the warehouse to greet us. "Jo, the entrustment to my father from the day before yesterday, is it finished or not?" Wulan asked with a thick Javanese accent. As if he was indifferent because again his hands were holding and trying out the equipment displayed in front of him. "Weis finished Wulan!" Bejo answered briefly. Place orders on the window. "That! Bro Derry. Checked, is there anything missing?" Wulan asked. I complied with Wulan's request. To check the completeness of the equipment. Which turned out to have been ordered by Mr. I'll check again carefully. After feeling that nothing is missing. But? I said to myself. Once I'm sure I'll count. There are three sets. And, so I looked more carefully at the brand listed on this equipment. Made me very surprised. Really beyond my budget! I can count. These three items are in front of me. Each one was worth three million. Meaning, a total of around nine million. Not to mention that there are still accessories for additional equipment. The total value is no less than ten million. I'm weak all over my body. Meanwhile, in his trouser pocket, there was only five hundred thousand in cash. That, too, I got from the extra overtime. Replace the employee who is on leave. "One set... Wulan's, Bro Derry!" His hand grabbed a pink set. "Wulan also likes fishing, you know!" The joke is a little showy. Returning his hand, he took the remaining set to combine. "Come on Bro, let's go back to the hut!" "Joo... I'm Done ... Suwon ngghee!" Wulan shouted while grabbing my hand which was still standing stiffly in front of the display case. "Never mind, bro. Let this be your and Uncle Bisri's business!" Wulan continued as she pushed out of the shop. **** "Your mother Wulan... where is she now?" I asked when I got back to the hut. I saw Wulan so enthusiastically holding back the fishing equipment. "There! ... there, at the shop with Mbak Renny." "Oh yeah... bro Derry too, you've never met, have you?" “But later. If so, no longer busy taking care of food orders. Get a driver and office around here!” Wulan continued. Of course. Time, it was only ten in the morning. Of course, the food ordered is. For lunch. I don't know why I feel sleepy right now. Maybe because of this week's overtime that makes me feel tired quickly. Also, cover your mouth several times to yawn. "Bro Derry, sleepy?" "If you want to rest. Just sleep first, at the guard post." Wulan suggested while pointing his hand to a room not far from the saung. His hand gently pulled me to follow his wishes. I followed Wulan's request. Because really, I feel so tired. So to think about it, I can't. "Okay, bro, Derry, just sleep here for now. Later, Wulan will wake you up. It's time for lunch!" "There's no need to wait for Mr. and Uncle Bisri... They'll have a long time!" Wulan continued. *** My eyes open. Felt hurt. Like there is something in the esophagus. Turns out my guess was right. The thing stuck on the wall. It is located just below the clock which shows noon time. I raised my body to get up. I intend to turn off the thing that wakes me up. However? I won't do it. My eyes caught Wulan. In the middle of playing a game on the device. While leaning against the wall. Right above the right, I lay down. "Since when was he here?" I asked myself. "Why bro?!" "Allergic to... fans, huh?" Wulan babbled, trying to guess. "He...eh!" I answered carelessly while turning off the object. "Ha ha ha.... Wong kuto jasane podo karo wong ndesoo!" Wulan teased then. "How are you?" Reply me. "He... he... he... Same... Allergies!" While raising her innocent face. Hmm!? I was touched for a moment. It seems like my feelings for this teenage girl are true. It was clear in her innocent eyes that Wulan missed her brother. Or rather as a brother, or sister in his life. It can be seen from the way he interacts with everyone. He warmly welcomed me, even with me who had just met, and without shame he expressed indulgence. Like a sister to an older brother. "Let's eat bro?" Invite Wulan. After getting up, then walked towards the shop. By leaving me behind. "MOM..!" Say hello to Wulan as soon as you arrive. Approaching her mother who was tidying glasses. I entered the stall, which turned out to be bigger than I expected. There are five dining tables on the right. Grocery store on the left. Not to mention one room, which turns out to be a daycare or laundry. It's like being put together as one. "Mom...!" scolded me trying to be friendly. While giving a hand salute. "Oooh..., so this is your son-in-law?" "That means... my daughter-in-law too, huh!?" "What was your name?" "Derryant?!" "Never mind, it's a hassle to call him... I'll just call you Mantu, OK?!" "Wulan... Use the plates on the back shelf!" Tell Mom again. Then told me to follow him. Go to one of the tables at the far end. I was just speechless and couldn't say anything other than confirm what he said. In my heart, I just grumbled. "Yes... Never mind... 'Who the hell are you? How dare to go against nature' Refuse for good, a person with a title. "Mother" *** My eyes. Now busy looking at the photos displayed in neat rows. On the dining room wall. Which is a collection of the history of the terminal's founding. From the beginning to the most recent. There. The date is written on each photo, along with a signature. There are traditional leaders, artists, and regents. It turns out that "oral" recognition is more meaningful than "written" bureaucracy which is complicated in every process. Not to mention the poison in the name of "Suar Suer Politics" in every period to launch profit-seeking strategies. Just a boost to the organization that embraces it. "Mr. Let's get ready to eat!" I heard Wulan calling. Calling Bisri's father and uncle. Temporarily stopping its activities across the terminal. Wulan immediately set up the chairs and set the table. Mother seemed to forbid me to help her. Arrange the seats according to Mother's directions. Looks like he put me with Wulan. Dad and Uncle Bisri, while he is not side by side. Outside I saw Dad and Uncle Bisri washing their hands with liquid soap over the sink, then went in. And? "What are you cooking today Pur?" asked Uncle Bisri. "Never mind! Use all the questions!" the mother replied briefly. I caught a glimpse of your father smiling and nodding. We also ate solemnly. Occasional joke. Wulan repeatedly fetched food for Father. Already completed. The luncheon made me a little moved. I have never experienced the most beautiful moment like a story in a small-screen cinema drama. Both I and my biological family, or my adoptive family. The reality is that perhaps only inanimate objects are the same, both tables and their supporting accessories, as well as several of their partners. Meanwhile, the living? Just gather, then take part as you like. Ethics no longer have any meaning. Disappeared with the blue emotion of the drama actor's siblings. *Abandoned by the father who returned to oversee the location of the renovation.* Wulan continued her routine. In charge of picking up consumable lunch boxes for a number of customers. I offered to help. But emphatically refused. "No need bro, this is Wulan's job!" "Besides... I'll feel sorry for the motorbike!" Hmm... Still with the witty language delivery, I thought. Yes. I understand. So it's troublesome if you're riding together. Of course, the number of boxes collected is not small. Only me and my "new mother-in-law" were busy serving several customers. Until? "Madam... Want to order food!" I see. A young man with hands full of tattoos. Looks like a parking attendant. I saw him several times tidying up the row of motorbikes on the sidewalk this morning. "Madam! My clothes, are they dry yet?" The man asked further with his eyes half glancing at me. "It Helped Me... Ipan peyang!” It was as if Mother already knew what was going on in the mind of the man in front of her. Making him immediately smile at me. I smiled back at the man, as a sign of introduction. I started lighting a cigarette while looking at the news that was going viral on my device. However? Attention turned back to the incident in front of me. "After eating... Wash the dishes!" the mother ordered which made the tattooed man hurry up. Maybe the man feels redundant, if the food he swallowed comes out again. Due to ears that are too hot. Ha ha ha ..!!! "Pan! Here are your dry clothes, caps, and sarongs too." "Just take a shower, then pray." "Remember! It's okay to be naughty... But don't be stupid!" They said almost in unison. Before Ipan came out. Mother called again "Where's the deposit money Pan... Here give it to me?!" Counted, then pinned Mother in a small notebook. Upon returning to prayer, Ipan asked permission to go home. However, Mother gave away what seemed to be the man's earnings. "This is for your mother...! Tell her. Don't forget, order from her! I've written down the details!" then Mother continued "This is for Rika...your wife!" "This is from Mom for you, Pan. Later, if someone asks about catering again, just give me my number!" Mother's orders are firm. Let alone men with tattoos like Ipan. The president is also I think down. Who would try to refuse halal good fortune from a... "Mother". Hehehe The atmosphere at the stall after lunch seemed increasingly quiet, my eyes wandered out to see neat, medium-sized buses lined up. The operational activities of inter-city travel officers and drivers have not yet been seen. Only a few cleaners were washing the windshield, one of the buses with just a bucket of water. It seemed that bird droppings had fallen across the sky. I'm still engrossed in sipping a glass of black coffee made by my new mother-in-law. I caught a glimpse of the look on his face that seemed calm with his trademark veil that occasionally tidied up. There was not the slightest hint of anxiety. With so much work he did simultaneously. The sound of the motorbike roaring. Stop right in front of the shop. It turned out to be Renny. Arrived, with the back of a mother in a green kebaya. His face was always smiling. Enter together. While occasionally talking over and over... Turns out, he was talkative. I got up to greet and at the same time put myself on. "This is my son-in-law, Mpo! He still lives with his father Wulan." Mother introduced me. "Son-in-law! This is Mpo Yuli who looks after this shop too." Again, Mother said something that made me smile. "Hadeeeh!... no mother... no child, it's the same" I whispered to myself. "Let's go home!" take Mom. After handing his small notebook to Renny. Like a buffalo in the mouth, I just obey. Following behind. However, repeatedly holding my arm. While his mouth was chattering non-stop talking about Renny and Wulan with contradictory characters. It turned out that the distance between the house and the shop in the corner of the terminal was not that far. Just turn around the terminal wall through the back door