Chapter 2

Pulung had arrived at his brother's luxury boarding house. All his complaints were shared until Dante burst into tears. This morning, before the sun hit Jakarta, news that again harmed all the lower classes circulated. Not only the lower classes, all those who are still laborers and get wages from others are still affected.

The government regulations that came out did not have any beneficial impact. It seems chaotic, rushed even though it is always denied that the decision has been formed for a long time. However, can't the state provide proper protection? Isn't it clearly stated that citizens are entitled to their rights? If this is the case, who will we run to?

It's like we are no longer based on Pancasila. Even though the negative and positive sides are moving towards their realms. Later, after this pandemic, the government's reforms to the workers will begin. It's just that the current turmoil is the impression of a non-open endorsement. And again, it is very unfortunate that this happened when the conditions squeezed the people's complaints. Obviously, there is no more trust in the people for the government.

The one whose helping hand the people really expect, actually strangles them. Those who made a million promises, in fact betrayed. The vote of no confidence is circulating again on social media. Top trending once Pulung surfed.

His breathing sounded heavy. His head was spinning. His brain was squeezed to see how his family's economy in the village could be helped immediately. This country is not healthy. This country cannot be used as a hope. This country-which is said to have a fixed price-is no longer the foundation for each of its inhabitants.

"Tea..." Pulung turned his head. Finding Dante in his nightgown that was still the same as before-Doraemon. At the age of 20, Dante still liked things about the Japanese cartoon. "Why don't you go to Karawang. Teteh, you can dance."

Pulung had almost forgotten what he was good at during school. In his village, Pulung was known as a reliable jaipong dancer. Since childhood, before attending elementary school, his mother had exposed him to various dance moves.

"I heard there was a studio there. It doesn't mean I don't like teteh here. Honestly, I'm happy. Coming home from work at night and in the early hours of the morning and someone welcoming me, it feels really great."

"Teteh understands Nte." Pulung felt bad if he had to hitchhike for too long. His initial plan was to be in Fatmawati to look for work. In this area there were several luxury shophouses with quite fantastic salaries. Although only a material shopkeeper.

"Here in this condition, I can't guarantee tea." Dante had a point. This country was sick. It was never okay or when would it show its recovery? "But if teteh dances, you can also go to her studio, the association there is close. I'm sure other fortunes will come. The factory there is also not bad."

Not thinking twice, Pulung agreed. Dante happily hugged him.

"I'll really miss you. We're so funny. We're so close but so far across the island."

Dante's hyperbole had always been exaggerated. But Pulung loved this cousin. Her soul is independent. His figure was strong. The youngest of five siblings who became the foundation of the family but was able to reach the university floor. His life was hard and his work... Pulung didn't want to interfere. That was Dante's right.

"I'll call my friend there. Teteh just lives in her house. She has small children."

*** In the afternoon Pulung got ready. Dante couldn't take him because of his afternoon shift. As soon as the taxi he ordered arrived at Menteng Station, Pulung quickly boarded the KRL to Bekasi. The condition of the carriage was also quiet due to health protocols that limit the number of passengers. That way, Pulung could sit down while closing his eyes.

Until bekasi there will be someone to pick him up. With conditions that were not crowded-stable-KRL drove at an average speed. Several times stopped at the station. Passengers boarded and alighted.

45 minutes later, his body was standing at the Bekasi station. Pulung suddenly felt the time jump in his life felt twice as fast. Yesterday he was still in Jakarta. Chatting about many things with Dante. This morning was also the same. Then the afternoon was nothing strange. And the afternoon has changed.

Pulung caught his breath. His exhale was agitated. His eyes searched deeper into the atmosphere of the room. Not much different from Jakarta, Bekasi is also quiet. Dragging his suitcase, a scrap of name and address Pulung grasped. Until a soft baritone guessed his name.

"Pulung tea?"

Pulung's back stiffened. His head stiffened to just turn his head.

"I am Ardika. Usually called Ar." He reached out his hand. Who quickly stood in front of Pulung.

For a moment, Pulung stopped his eyes from looking. The man named Ardika was handsome. His body was tall. His jaw was firm. His facial lines supported every sculpture on his face.

"This is my daughter. Omi, Naomi."

Pulung didn't even notice the little girl with waist-length hair that Ardika was holding. She was-maybe-about four or five years old.

"Mama."

Of course Pulung was surprised. His eyes widened.

"Oh dear. This is papa's friend. Her name is Pulung's aunt. Let's salute." Who immediately obeyed. Pulung was touched.

"Ah sorry," Pulung said, aligning his height with Omi's. "Omi..." Pulung noticed once again. His hand moved to correct the children's hair sticking out of their ties. "Have you eaten?"

In the past, before getting married, Pulung aspired to have one daughter and one son. Unfortunately, the age of marriage, which is only one year old, has not given him the mandate for him to be given the responsibility of children. Until the divorce papers were issued, what Pulung regretted the most was the absence of children in his marriage. As an old article wrote, 'when you're old, all you have left are your children.'

Pulung should have been able to bring his child when the separation occurred. His loneliness would not have been so gripping. But God is very fair. There was Omi who was present unexpectedly.

"With papa earlier." Omi showed his missing middle tooth. His smile was really sweet. So that Pulung couldn't resist kissing him.

"Come on tea. Omi likes it like that."

"Papa!" he protested.

"It's okay mas..."

"Ar just tea. It's better."

That day became a new chapter for Pulung. Despite the resentment in his heart because Dante didn't give him an explanation of his friend's gender - it was Pulung's fault for immediately agreeing. In fact, the content of the message Dante sent made Pulung glare.

"This is called widow meets widower or widower meets widow. Happy tea."

Duhh! Why is it like this.

"I have prepared all your needs while at home. Please do not hesitate. And if you don't mind, I want Omi to be taken care of by you. We'll talk about the salary later."

"Really?" Pulung was surprised.

Ardika smiled. "Didn't Dante tell you? I knew it." His hands turned the steering wheel and turned right. "My day job is in the tea project. I can't take Omi to work."

"All this time?" Pulung wanted to know.

"I brought it with me this week. And it's really complicated. I'm afraid if there's anything wrong with Omi. It's a project, right tea. Lots of materials."

"No nanny?"

Ardika laughed. "He doesn't get close to people easily, teh." Ardika looks at her daughter through the rearview mirror. Her tiny lips chirp softly with the doll in her hand. "But when she saw the picture of teteh last night, Omi immediately agreed for teteh to take care of her."

"Thank God if Omi likes it."

"I hope so too, teh."