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

“Sepur Tumbuk’s” Driver (Part Four)

“Mimit, Mimit, what’s for you are climbing that tree?.”

“Come down and join your friends,” cried Mrs Yati from the front door of the class. Apparently she realized that had lost one of her students after a long time.

I said nothing and did not move from where I was perched on the tree. Mrs. Yati immediately back into the class. The door kept open. Not long after, she came out with a female student. My God, apparently she was a girl with so white skin and waist-length hair that caught my attention earlier.

“Come on Vita, go invite Mimit to class”, commanded the teacher at the little girl.

“Mit, let’s go to class”, exclaimed Vita from under the tree. His eyes were clear, though narrow, she had reddish lips. That rosy lips were smiling friendly.

Reluctantly I moved down from the tree. I’m happy to be friends with the Vita, but I’m sad being loss of my dream to be a sepur tumbuk’s driver.

“Please guide your friend to class, Vita” pleaded Mrs. Yati on Vita.

Vita was a good girl. She managed to follow the command of the teacher. She handed my wrist and clutched tightly. Then the waist-haired little girl led me to enter the classroom.

Bizarre. At that time, that I just was willing to betowed by Vita to enter the classroom. Really like buffalo led by it’s nose. Always so perhaps the effect of the girls on the boys. Even though for the girls and boys under the age.

I entered the classroom along with Vita. Mrs. Yati then told me to sit on a bench arranged in circle. I was sitting close to a beautiful little girl with short hair. Her eyes were round, it’s beautiful. It turned out that the girl was named Dewi. She wore a ribbon on her hair. The ribbon tied interestingly. There are beads bright red around his neck. It is so beautiful.

Next to me on another bench was also a little girl. Her eyes looked very fierce and unfriendly. His body seemed to be higher than most other little girls. She has long hair braided in two. At the base of the hair braids there were red ribbon tied in a simple way. Indeed, if her mouth was not pursed like it, she was really beautiful. At first glance, I thought about a picture of a witch in a fairy tale book belongs to my cousin. The witch was tall, thin and holding a broom. Hhiiii, …. I shudder.

“Little zero “, the sound of Mrs. Yati suddenly heard. We all listened as enchanted. Big zero great class was in Mrs. Tutik’s drawing lessons.

(to be continued)

(phothograph by Evy Sofia)

“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

“Sepur Tumbuk’s” Driver (Part One)

Chapter I

“Sepur Tumbuk’s” Driver

My mother hooking my red shorts rights carefully, then put a short-sleeved shirt over my sweatshirts. That’s my first uniform. My mother had sewed that shirt and pants herself with a sewing machine my father had bought , several days after their wedding. The shorts was dark red and my shirt had white based color with flowered with batik motifs matching with my pants. The smell of the wax was still adequate from the shirt.

“I don’t want to go to school,” I said to my mother.

“Why?,” she asked.

“My goal right into sepur tumbuk driver,” I replied.

“And sepur tumbuk driver does not need school.”

“As mother said,” I continued.

Sepur tumbuk is a term introduced by my mother to the heavy equipment used to surface on the work of transportation civil engineering. At the time the road in front of my parents rented house being paved. I often watched the cylinder back and fort the street to harden it. I admire the cylinder. What a dashing riding it.

“Yes,” she replied patiently.

“To be the driver of sepur tumbuk does not need to go to school,” she continued.

Then she took my hand and led me to the first school. Kindergarten Laboratorium IKIP Malang in Jalan Simpang Bogor Malang. To get to the school my mother asked for help on pedicab driver. IKIP Malang was the former name of UM. UM stands for Universitas Negeri Malang, a state university on East Java.

Mother covered my brothers’ face with jarik she used to carry. Jarik is a sheet of batik, it also could be used to hold a baby besides its primary function to cover lower part of the body. My brother fell asleep in my mother’s arms. She also holding my sisters’ arm, and was pregnant fourth sister. Already completed her suffering, she was pregnant, hold and holding. Fitting is a term used by neighboring countries for the maternity hospital in Indonesia. For the same purpose they use the term Rumah Sakit Korban Lelaki or in Bahasa means Male Victims Hospital. And it’s absolutely true.

After locking all the doors and windows of our rented house, my mother then took all her care to the junction near my house to meet rickshaw driver.

“We want to go to Jalan Simpang Bogor, Sir”, she said in a rickshaw driver who was lying on his pedicab. The man was immediately rose from his sleep and fix a tattered hat perched on his head.

“Yes Ma’am, please.”

“How much?,” Asked my mother to the rickshaw fare which will delivered us.

My mother was not a fussy person whith any bid, then after a brief conversation with the pedicab drivers, we immediately boarded his rickshaw down all the way to Jalan Simpang Bogor, my first school.

(to be continued)

pict by Iwan J Prasetyo