Enemy Force’s Sudden Attact (Part Three)

“There are enemies, attaaaaaaaact !.”

The group of new students in white uniform shouted excitedly crossing the street toward us. They come out of the mouths imitating rifle being fired and cocked back. The position of their hands mimicked the hand position of soldiers who were shooting targets.




Our party became frightened to get a surprise attacks like that. We were all crying and gathering swarm onto the teachers. Dewi and Joshua were being pee in their pants with fear. The teachers was very surprised and looked livid. They both tried to calm us. Our group was a mess. Fortunately there was no traffic on the road.

“Irreverence,” hissed Mrs. Tutik slowly. Her face looked very upset.

Suddenly one of the students who dressed in a blue coat alma mater shouted to big kids in white uniforms. He was wearing a red slayer.

“You have what ?.”

“Attacking other groups without using guns.”

“Look at your hands, are there any weapons ?,” he continued.

“Use logic !.”

“Logic !,” he cried shout.

Hordes of big children with white uniforms were suddenly silent. We still crying howling at the roadside. Siska hugged Mrs. Yati thigh closely. She was very frightened. His eyes shed tears profusely. She cried silently.

” Get down all !,” ordered another big boy with purple slayer.

“You’re all lost.”

“You’re all dead,” said a big children’s with blue alma mater coat and red slayer.

Those big children suddenly were lying face down on the asphalt. In tears, I can still be surprised. How could the big kids feel disposed to face down on the pavement were full of dust ?. That’s where the heck why kindergarten stupid children coming from ?, so I thought at that time.

Dozens of big children were lying in front of us. We still bawling. In the chaos, Mrs. Tutik immediate made a decision.

“Come on kids, we go back to school.”

Our party moved left, return to school at Jalan Simpang Bogor. Some children had started silence. Some were still crying softly. We were all in shock. Our teacher no longer pay attention to our ranks. Anyway right back, back to school at Jalan Simpang Bogor. Immediately.

A long-haired female student follow us. She brought three laced drinking bottles of  left at the crime scene. She handed the bottle to Mrs. Yati while apologizing. Mrs. Yati receive the three laced bottles of  with a stiff face.

Arriving at the school, we were asked to enter the classroom by the teachers. The delegation of TK-2 and TK-3 had not returned to school yet. Mrs. Tutik took Dewi whom still crying. In her hand was a skirt inventories of the schools that was used for emergencies. She handed Dewi toward school bathroom. Mrs. Tutik would replace the Dewi’s wet skirt urinated.

Similarly, Mrs. Yati had picked out a large shorts for Joshua. Brown shorts. Joshua was bigger compared to other friends. He had not cried again. But his face still looked tired and frightened.

After that event, on that day, there was no singing lessons as before on Saturday. Our teachers let us play on the school yard. It was the most mess lesson of walking around the streets I’ve ever had.

pict by Emile Seno Aji

My Mom’s Spell (Part Three)

Mrs. Tutik approached us with wide steps. Arriving in front of us, she cried fiercely.

“Who taught to sing like that?.”

We replied simultaneously, “Rudin, Mrs. Tutik.”

Mrs. Tutik pinched Rudin’s cheeck with exasperation. We did not understand why she get so angry. Rudin crying loudly. Mrs. Tutik seems to have lost patience.

“Who taught you to sing like that Rudin?.”

“Uncle Benny.”

“Who is Uncle Benny?.”

“My father’s brother.”

Mrs. Tutik sighed and then said, “It is, shut up!.” Rudin immediately stop crying. But inevitably he was sobbing too. This Rudin looeds miserable.

“Once again I hear you sing like that, you will be have my detention,” threatened Mrs. Tutik. Then Mrs. Tutik immediately turned and hurried back into the classroom. It looked Mrs. Yanizar, Mrs. Maryam Yusuf and Mrs. Yati welcome her. Apparently they’re want to discuss something.

After the departure of Mrs. Tutik from our front, Rudin startedcrying out loud again. He holded his cheek that had been pinched by Mrs. Tutik. We tried to calm Rudin and persuade hir to stop crying, but apparently we were less successful.

Vita ran from our presence and entered the classroom. Then she came back to us bringing in two pieces of cake of her school supplies. She exerted a piece to Rudin and eat the rest.

“Do not cry Rudin, eat the cake,” so said Vita.

Rudin stopped crying, he still short sobbing occasionally. He watched cake in his hands. But apparently Rudin yet tasteful meal. Cake, I thought. I draw near to Rudin and hoped he courage to share the cake with me.

“Let’s we play swing, Rudin,” I invited him. My eyes were not separated from the cake in Rudin hands.

Rudin shook his head slowly,

“Then, why don’t we play sliding,” I pleaded. Again. Rudin shook his head slowly.

After a long time passed and there was no sign that Rudin would share his cake, I immediately ran to my friends who were playing swinging. I play with them and forget Rudin’s cake.

The bell was pinged again by Mrs. Yanizar, that is to say, it’s time to get into the class back. Some children ran to class, which partly walked pretty slowly. I walked slowly toward the class. Wipe my left elbow with a grimace. Earlier I fell when playing chase with Joshua and Dewi.

I heard the sound of a child running behind. Then the noise stops right side. It happened that he was Rudi Siswandaru. He asked me,

“Mit, Why?.”

“Falling,” I replied shortly.

“Oh,” that was all out of the Rudi’s mouth. Then he running returned to class sticks.

Class was so quiet. I sat in my seat as usual. My seat was green. As usual these days anyway, I sat next to Dewi and Siska. That day Siska had ponytail her hair. Not braided as usual. Her attitude was still bitchy and like pinching. I do not like Siska’s pinched. Sore.

Mrs. Yati distributed colorful carton paper to all of the students. The carton were so width. Then it was my turn to get a piece of carton from Mrs. Yati. She gave me a piece of white cardboard. Actually I wanted to get a red or green carton. But I did not dare to protest to the teacher.

“Children,” said Mrs. Yati to the class, “I will share scissors to you all, I ask you to use it with caution, I did not want anything to be hurt,” said Mrs. Yati.

“Got kids?,”

“Understand Mrs. Yati,” I cried together with all my friends.

(to be continued)

photograph by Astungkara Wiguna

My Mom’s Spell (Part One)

Chapter II

My Mom’s Spell

The sound of bell brass pinged from a distance by Mrs. Yanizar. All my friends cheered. It was the end of the draw lessons session we have had. One by one or in groups children came forward to collect their drawings. Rudin, one of my collecting images of a lame horse of his work. The horse’s ears like a banana leaf and it’s tail like crocodile. Without realizing it himself, Rudin is a creative child.

Joshua came up to me and see my picture. I’m drawing Reog Ponorogo in action. Reog Ponorogo is a traditional art and recital authentically from Ponorogo, a District in East Java. It had also claimed by Malaysia as their national heritage. I tried to draw a tiger head for that Reog. My tiger head seems too meek and humble. My tiger not seem like a fierce like I’m desiring. Let it be, I thought, next time I can certainly draw a fierce tiger’s head. I scanned that drawing of my Reog Ponorogo with a smile of satisfaction

“Nice drawing Mit”, greeted Joshua. I was surprised to look at him, I thought just only me to know that my tiger’s head too patient. I stared into the eyes of Joshua sharply. Joshua bared his teeth, those white teeth were maintained. I was not able to get angry at Joshua.

“What are you drawing Josh?”, I asked. Joshua tried to hide his drawing behind his back. I sight at a glance of three marbles which were drawn by Joshua. One red, the other green and the other again black. Joshua did suck.

“We collect them together Mit?”, asked Joshua to me. I just nodded short. The two of us then went to Mrs. Yati who sat on the desk in front of the class.

“What were you drawing Josh?”, asked Mrs. Yati on Joshua sweetly .

“Marbles, Mrs. Yati,” he replied.

Mrs. Yati smiled sweetly, as usual, to both of us. Her eyes then turned to me.

“What were you drawing Mit?” asked Mrs. Yati to me.

“Reog Ponorogo, Mrs. Yati”, I replied with a grin.

“Nice drawing Mit”, praised Mrs. Yati. I know, Mrs. Yati just teasing me. My tiger’s head pictures was so patient, should it look fierce tiger. My face hardened. I held back my tears might. We both passed from the presence of Mrs. Yati.

Outside, we both saw the children playing. Boisterous voice. Nurul and Daisy were playing ball jacks on the patio of the school. They are fun to sit on the floor, sometimes audible clink jacks if it falls out of the hands of Nurul or Daisy. Erna and Taufik were squatting watching them played.

We were not interested in playing jacks, so we rushed to the schoolyard to join the children playing there. Round is full, some girls sat on spinning, laughing hysterically. Beside some boys ran holding the round stool that can rotate. It looked Dewi and Siska sitting on the lap.

The available two slides are apparently being sold out. Alternating with the orderly conduct of boys and girls conduct an orderly queue to get a turn gliding from the top slide. Framework climbing no less crowded. Rudin was on top of the climbing frame together with other friends. We decided to join in climbing frame group.

(to be continued)

(photograph by Emile Seno Aji)

“Sepur Tumbuk’s” Driver (Part Three)

I held out my hand to Mrs. Tutik as I reached out my hand to shake hands with Yati earlier. Again, I cone my mouth in front of my mother.

“Dear me, you are very handsome,” said Mrs. Tutik and pinched my cheek.

“Just like his father,” she continued.

“My son is more handsome ,” my mother protested.

They all laughed uproariously. I do not understand what they were laughing about.

“Who is the eminent primacy sires,” said Mrs. Yati glancing at my mother. Again the three of them chuckled. I still do not understand what they were talking about.

In conversations and boisterous voices of children playing at the schoolyard, suddenly heard the bell was rung by a teacher dressed in black with a foliage pattern of dark blue and green. A few days later I learned that her name was Mrs. Yanizar.

Mrs. Yati and Mrs. Tutik said goodbye to my mother. They quickly gathered their young students to enter TK-1 classrooms. TK stands for Taman Kanak-Kanak in Bahasa which means Kindegarten in English. Bustling noise of children eagered to enter the classroom. Mom came over and looked down.

“When the time to go home come, Mom will waiting at Pak Slamet’s home “, she message me. She showed a cottage at the other end of a walkway leading to the school. There are two houses there. The house were for carers and the school janitor.

My mother immediately walked towards the house that had been designated herself. My number two’s sister followed her. My number three’s brother was still sleeping soundly in my mother’s arms.

School grounds immediately deserted. I did not move from where I stood. From a distance I saw her chatting with Mrs. Upik, she was Pak Slamet’s wife. Then they rushed into the house. Mother immediately vanished from my sight. And I was alone in the yard.

I looked at the school yard with curiousity, there are two great rounds to play turn-round. To complete it, there are three swings and two slides and a climbing frame of iron. At that time, probably my kindergarten was kindergarten with the best facilities on Malang City. To enter first grade of PPSP IKIP Malang, we should able to read. This condition were not found on other schools.

Most of schools gave lessons of reading at the first grade. English Lessons were given in the fourth grade of primary school. At that time English teaching was typically given for the students on first grade of Junior High. Science lessons were divided into Biology and Physics Lessons on the fourth grade also. And we have Trade Administration Lesson in the fourth grade again.

I’ve already told my mom that I did not go to school. I did not want my chance to be a sepur tumbuk driver will be disappeared. Therefore, I was unwilling to enter the class followed Mrs. Yati and Mrs. Tutik. I did not know what to do now in my loneliness, so I moved closer to a tree and climbed it.

From the top of the tree, I watched Pak Slamet’s home again from a distance. Breeze gently rubbed my little body. Noise of leaves and branches rustled the sound of breeze. Sunlight shadow on the leaves and stems of the trees I’d climbed forming sweet shadow-shaped circles. I did enjoyed it.

Suddenly I heard the sound of a hand-clap loudly patted.

(to be continued)

pict by Astungkara Wiguna