Woman on a Park Bench

Since yesterday afternoon when I was walking around my house complex, I saw a woman sitting on a park bench — alone. I don't want to bother her, I just passed him and I saw she was just silent and sitting there, no response.

I still remember what happened a few weeks ago. The neighbor's dog that barked in front of me, its saliva that scared me half to death. I who don't know what to do, just shut up and try to calm down. I took it my phone in pant's pocket, I immediately contacted the housewife next door. For a minute or two, there was no greeting, I was getting restless. I want to run as fast as I can but it looks like this dog is stronger to just chase me. I had no other choice so I started walking backward, slowly, and running. The neighbor's dog started chasing and it was time for my feet to become his food.

Three days I was treated, my job was neglected. My co-worker, Hadi, visits me every day. Lecture every minute,

"You should run fast, Ran," he said as if he never imagined what it would feel like to be chased by a dog.

"It's been three days I've been treated, the nurse said tomorrow can go home, I'll take you. Today I will accompany you until tomorrow, ".

I remember when I was with my woman. A very perfect person, I think. There was not the slightest flaw in him. Even when I'm in trouble, he just wants to take care of me and take care of me. Even though the work of a model is not easy. He had to devote his time to it. And the most awaited time for a lover is when the anniversary of us both, however, it turns out I fell ill and had to be treated.

After that incident, I was traumatized and planned to move places. About two hours from my previous residence, I finally got a comfortable and suitable place to live, not far from my office. I rented in real estate, not very expensive. My rent was in the corner near the pigeon park, the pigeon park because many pigeons perched in the park, whoever owned it, maybe deliberately kept by the owner of the housing. Every time I remember what happened a few months ago, my heart breaks. How come? It was a special day for me. My girl is eager to surprise you.

She has been preparing for a few days now, and I know all this from Hadi. Everything from gifts, clothes, and the right place to celebrate my birthday. She called at dusk, saying I had to be ready when he picked up. I've been waiting for an hour, usually less than an hour for him to come. Suddenly my cellphone rang, Hadi's name was written on the phone. Hadi stuttered.

"Ran, Ran, Karina accident, and can not be saved,"I was expecting him earlier, now just stared blankly at the door. As if a dream had just greeted me, however, the wind was faster slapping me. A drop of water mourned the passing of Karina, my lover.

When I'm not busy and the task is over, I often take a leisurely walk around the complex. While enjoying the afternoon air and enjoying the twilight. Accidentally, I saw a woman on a park bench, alone. I saw he was silent, I don't know, at that time I just passed him and turned briefly at him but, there was no response at all. There are only two brown benches with iron handles in the garden. The woman sits on a bench to the east with flowers all around her.

It's been two weeks since I lived in Dara Park housing, this housing looks lonely. There is nothing to worry about. I'm on the move as usual. Sometimes Hadi comes to just drink coffee together.

Today I am free, I finished all tasks. Just walking around when the afternoon came, I saw the same woman again on the park bench. There is a sense of curiosity that I want to music from him. I boldly approached and greeted him.

"Good evening," I said. Ah, it turns out he still ignores me. I raised my voice again to greet him.

For two minutes I waited for him to react however, only the wind greeted my greetings. I walked by grumbling to myself.

Every evening for this week I looked at her, watching her. Sitting alone accompanied by pigeons in the garden. I gave up on approaching him, just say hello I don't dare anymore. I have no idea. I just want to watch him from afar.

Like curious people, so am I. The girl made me curious. For something, he covers up but only I am sensitive. I want to know more closely, do I dare? Yes, I will not be afraid even if only silence speaks. What was the reason he was sitting on a park bench? Endless scrolling questions.

The wind howled on a quiet night. My feet have been struggling all day. My mind is still wandering and not home yet. Stuffy room with uncertainty. Work like that alone makes me bored, but I can't give up. Gusti, with this long night, I give up. May my sleep be the answer to yesterday's questions, my prayers at the end of the night.

I got busy every day. The boss who always calls doesn't hesitate to throw all his duties at me. It's rare for me to surround the complex with its breaking twilight, and don't forget a woman in a quiet garden.

###

Entering October, the sky is like a person who is mourning. Gloomy and cloudy. Every rainy day, umbrellas are ready. Sunday is time to rest, it looks like today will be sunny. I saw no sign of rain. It's a difficult choice to take a walk, just refreshing or just resting. Finally, I chose to rest with hot chocolate and an accompanying laptop. I don't really like coffee. Just normal, if you are stressed and bored, coffee will always accompany you.

Besides resting my body, I also like to write on my personal blog. On holidays like these, my blog is filled with short stories and poetry. Yes, I like to write lines of poetry, there is one poem on my blog that I always read. Poetry to Karina, my lover. A model who is beautiful, graceful, and kind. On the blog, there are only poems about him and about what is around me. Even though my poetry is not all that good, at least writing poetry is fun. I idolize many poets, as well as inspire me.

Late in the evening, as usual, taking a walk around the complex is something you can't miss. However, it looks like it will rain. Sure enough, the distance of 100 meters from where I live has gone lightly, fortunately, I brought an umbrella. After a few more meters I arrived at the park. I have to hurry to the park, I want to see her, a woman on a park bench. Ah, but could it be raining like this sitting there? I speed up my steps. And finally, I saw him looking up at the sky, then a few minutes later he began to realize, the sky was sad. It was raining but he smiled.

The rain was getting heavier, the rain was replaced by a bunch of water that didn't hesitate to come and rain. I immediately followed the woman. I umbrella him, but he seems a little confused, why it rains only for a moment. I gently touched his shoulder and he was shocked absurdly. She took a stick (like a stick carried by a blind person) then he walked away from me. I'm so confused.

Before long, a little old mother who brought a blue umbrella approached me.

Come with us. She is my child, our house is there, the white fence is blue, ”she said as she walked after the woman. I also followed him.

The house that is not so spacious but feels comfortable makes me want to explore every corner. I saw around the living room there were several displays. One of them is a photo of the woman, several charters, and paintings. The photos that are not displayed are also placed on several tables and drawers in the room. There is also a photo of the woman's family, a boy, and a girl. I was very curious when I held the photo that was placed in the drawer, the photo depicting a woman walking on the catwalk and the many cameras taking her picture.

"Please sit down, son," said a mother who surprised me.

I put the photo back and immediately sat on the sofa with him. It was my mother who told me to follow her until the house was very kind and refined.

"What's the name of the child, if I may know?" he asked me.

"My name is Randy Dwijaya, just call Ran, ma'am," I replied politely.

"Where does Nak Randu live?" "I live near the park, the house is painted brown, mom," I said.

"Son Ran must be confused to see my son, Citra, who always sits on the park bench alone. In the past, before an accident that resulted in Citra being unable to see, hear or speak, she was a model, "Mom paused for a moment, I just waited silently for her to continue the story.

Citra has a small, harmonious family. But after she had an accident, Citra's husband divorced her, she could not accept a wife who had five sensory disabilities. Her husband took her child and finally Citra lived with her mother.

Citra always shuts herself in her room during the morning and at night, but when evening comes she always goes to the park alone. There are aids for him, the first is a stick and the second is a hearing aid. In her room, there is a big clock which rings very loudly, so every three o'clock in the afternoon Citra goes to the park alone.

Not many people understand Citra's condition. Only some of the brothers came and visited him. Citra doesn't like to be bothered by people she doesn't know, she will get confused and leave immediately. Forgive Citra, son Ran. Maybe Ran's son didn't know it earlier, ”said the mother at length.

It's getting dark, I have to excuse myself.

"Sorry, mom. It's getting dark, I better go home, Mom. Thank you for the hot tea and the story, ma'am. "

"Yes, you're welcome. Often play here, gradually you will recognize the image itself and will get used to the people around him. "

"Yes, ma'am. When I have time, I will go to Mother's house. Excuse me, Mom. "

"Thank you all for your time."

That night I couldn't sleep imagining how it would feel like the world had died, and God still gave life. I can not shackle my tears, drop by drop accompanying me in the dark night reminds me of a model in the past, who has died. Strong image, maybe she could have killed herself but because she had a gentle, kind, and gentle mother, she couldn't do it. I opened my blog, I read again the poem I made especially for Karina, I wanted to gift it to her but it was only a dream, however, I want to give it to Citra. Tomorrow I will give it to you, hopefully, you will read it softly but loudly so that Citra can live it.

###

At Citra's house.

“Son, here is a letter containing a poem that someone wrote for you. Listen and live, yes dear, ”Citra, who only nodded in agreement, was waiting for her mother to read it.

"The most beautiful present"

Twilight is beautiful,

song for him; perfect

all are lovers of God

I'm not part of it

However, women

long fingers teach me

how to be grateful

every step

is

the most beautiful present

Randy Dwijaya

A drop of tears fell on Citra's red cheeks. The park bench had taught her to make peace, with all the past, make it easy. A second later, she was curious about the poet giver.

--end--