The Widow's Second Marriage: Love after loss

The year 2020 is a year of downturn for all humans. Not one or two countries felt the impact, almost the whole world felt it. The sharp economic downturn, the rising unemployment rate, the inescapable poverty and other cases that support it.

Covid-19 greeted Indonesia in the third month of this year-March. For some people, those who are office employees will use the work from home time as a means to strengthen family ties or replace their wheel time to exchange stories. While for the subordinates, babu let's say so, will cry tears, legowo lan nerimo because they lost their jobs. No matter how hard they try, if the boss has put their name on the list of being laid off, they still say good bye.

Pulung Rinjani is one of them. A 26-year-old woman who had to sigh many times. The capital city is so cruel to her who only graduated from high school. She was very lucky to have gotten an education up to high school. In her village, Garut, school is not that important. As long as a man was already sold, marriage was a race. Working for women in mountainous areas is not a necessity.

Unfortunately, Pulung did not have the privilege of relaxing after school.

In the years since graduating, Jakarta has become his best friend. He turned his job into a home where he could eat rice twice a day, at least. And send some of his salary to his mother and father in the village. From there, Pulung was able to raise the status of his family with the youngest entering university.

Unfortunately, this pandemic destroyed the dreams of some people who had initially lived peacefully.

This fact was accompanied by a divorce letter sent by her husband. The handsome man Pulung married two years ago apparently chose to end their relationship.

He said:

"This year is difficult. The economy has also dropped dramatically. If I have to support you, I can die standing up."

Arga Brasta said his sentence smoothly. Pulung accepted it. If you have to divorce, it means you are not a match. That day Pulung also put his signature. That sign, the journey of his domestic life was over.

Right, fast marriage, young marriage to finally become a widow. Isn't it funny to be played with life under the guise of destiny?

"Sorry. If my service was unsatisfactory."

"Lucky you didn't get pregnant."

Pulung didn't listen. His two feet stepped steadily out of the house that sheltered his body from the heat and rain during his marriage. Pulung dragged his suitcase to the online taxi that had been ordered.

Arga's words were enough to hurt Pulung's heart even though he ignored them. After a year of marriage and living with the man, Pulung was always urged by his in-laws to get pregnant. But his own son wanted to enjoy a period of togetherness and deliberately delayed it. Pulung became confused and felt fooled.

"Where to, Neng?" The driver quickly put Pulung's luggage into the trunk and asked his destination.

"Fatmawati, sir." Pulung's brother was there. Maybe he could give himself a job.

After being laid off from the factory where he made his fortune, Pulung had to look extra hard. Three months at home, Pulung thought her husband - her ex - was the perfect man considering his responsible tracking. They always work together in matters of home needs ranging from water, electricity, monthly shopping, to motorcycle and car installments. Which can be resolved easily. Once Pulung was unemployed, he was dumped because he had no income.

"Jakarta is cruel, Neng." Mr. Driver's vocals filled the air. Splitting the silence of the car and being carried away by the crowd outside. "Corona makes the poor poorer. The rich are getting rich." Pulung said to himself. "Finding a job is difficult. The government can't provide security for its people."

This is one example of a mistake where people are keen to blame the government. Even though the government has the authority to act, they still have considerations to carry out every policy. Whether the regulations they issue have an impact on the good or even make the atmosphere heated.

"Maybe it's not fortune yet, sir." Pulung returned his smile.

His heart ached. Not at the divorce he had just started. But on how society views her as a widow, especially without children. Netizens' judgment must be on the element of ugliness.

Like:

"Barren."

"Not good in bed."

"If you have a husband, you must be good at taking care of yourself."

"Being beautiful doesn't guarantee it."

"Like a cat given rendang, how can you refuse!"

Pulung's eyes closed. Fear that he had never imagined suddenly loomed. His widow status must have a very bad image.

"There, Neng."

Pulung handed over a note according to the amount on the application.

"Just take the change, sir. Take care of your health. Don't forget the mask and hand sanitizer."

"Thank you, Neng. Sami-sami buat, Neng too and the best prayers are always with you, Neng."

The luxurious boarding house in front of Pulung illustrates how much his brother earns. And explained what his job was like. Will Pulung participate?

For the sake of his sister's college. For the sake of his mother and father. For the sake of his survival. After all, hasn't he been damaged since a few hours ago. So, it will not cause complicated problems as long as the carcass is kept tight.

Okay. No problem.

But Pulung shook his head once again. Trying to make himself realize that failure is a delayed success. Being a widow is not as bad as others make it out to be. Being a widow is not a bad thing.

No! Pulung must rise from his slump and fix himself. There are still many that Pulung can bear including his parents and sister.

Pulung exhaled along with his eyes circulating. The condition of the boarding house owned by Dante - his cousin's younger brother was quite beautiful with plants lined up neatly as decoration and a large shady tree. The evening breeze caressed Pulung's cheeks. It was rare for Jakarta to be this cool at a time when pollution was difficult to overcome.

"Looking for who, Tea?" The security guard greeted Pulung kindly. "Let me help you."

"Dante." Pulung replied with an equally friendly smile.

"Oh Mbak Dante. Come."

Pulung followed where the security guard led him. Pulung must be amazed by the quiet and clean atmosphere of the boarding house. Not noisy in general or is it like this adequate facilities at a price that suits the pocket?

"But I don't think he's home yet, Tea." The security guard only gave information. "Do you have the access code that was given to you by Ms. Dante? Let me help you if you haven't given it to me yet."

Now here's another uniqueness that makes Pulung flabbergasted. He was too ndeso or indeed a lack of socialization so that only the world of work that Pulung knew. Now the boarding house is already using a code like an apartment that is usually in dramas. No more old-fashioned keys.

"Already, sir. But if you want to help, I don't mind."

The security guard nodded and immediately pressed the numbers of the buttons according to the instructions Dante had left a few hours ago.

"Go ahead, Tea. If you need anything, you can call the security post number listed here." She pointed to the paper near the phone. "Have a good rest, Tea."

Pulung nodded and smiled. Letting the security guard retreat and returning Pulung circulated his gaze into Dante's room.

Luxury, that was the first impression Pulung had. Not only was the building luxurious and the facilities were adequate. The contents of Dante's room are really luxurious like a real rich man.

The bed is king size, there is a dining table that doubles with the kitchen. Everything looked neat and Pulung was even more amazed by the success of his younger cousin.

Pulung was happy and hopefully after the test that greeted him there will be other happiness that Pulung did not expect to come.

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."

Naomi Aksara. Born five years ago, she has transformed into a cute little girl with a tooth in the middle. Just like the entrance gate. Her hair was long and jet black, with round eyes as clear as river water. Pulung really liked this boy. His lips were thin, so he was cheerful and asked a lot of questions. Luckily, Pulung had a million answers that were no less surprising.

"If Pulung's aunt becomes my mom, will you?"

This time, Pulang could not give any model answers. Because a little wrong, Omi cried. A powerful way to get his request granted. So, only a smile that Pulung can show.

"Let's eat."

"Feed me." She whined spoiled.

Ardika said his daughter was independent. Eating and bathing alone became Omi's rituals that no one wanted to disturb. But - presumably - that didn't apply when the boy was dealing with Pulung. As proof, early in the morning, when Pulung was reciting the Koran, Omi visited his room. Asking for hot water to be cooked for bathing plus a bath.

Ardika glared. His mouth mumbled and stopped when Pulung said: "It's okay, Mr. Ar. It's part of my job."

Ardika was about to refuse before Omi's scream became a roar. The single parent chose to give in to his daughter.

"But promise me." Pulung proposed his seduction first. So that his foster child wants to study after this. "After this study."

"Ah mama..." Pulung's breath caught. Omi didn't realize his sentence. "Okay. Finish learning to play the game, auntie."

It was a relief. Pulung's breath was released. Omi just blurted out and was spontaneous.

"Not sleeping, huh?"

"But with mom."

Ouch again. How come it's so deliberate.

"Let's see how far Omi chooses the colors for his drawing later."

A cheer of joy accompanied by a hand stretching upwards was proof of Omi's pleasure. And it seems, for children of Omi's age, learning is not an option he likes. They need to play, to hang out with their friends which at the moment cannot be done.

***

In the afternoon, what puzzled Pulung was Ardika's return. The man said that his working hours always lasted until the afternoon. Counting if there was no overtime. And now this?

Sitting at the dining table and pouring various vegetables and side dishes that Pulung had cooked.

"I usually come home for lunch." Oh like that. Pulung's feet were about to step into Omi's room. Before Ardika's vocals stopped him. "Teteh's cooking is delicious. I haven't had home-cooked food in a long time. Oh yes tea..." he paused. "Tonight, I'll take you to the dance studio."

"Dance studio?" repeated Pulung.

Ardika's head nodded. "I also happen to need a dance teacher. You can take Omi to learn too. It's a shame if Omi doesn't have any other skills."

"Isn't that too much to ask?"

"No, tea. In the past..." Suddenly stopped. Pulung's forehead wrinkled. He didn't mean to be nosy. "Because we are in the land of Sundanese, of Sundanese blood too, studying the culture, there is nothing wrong with tea."

It wasn't that Pulung was being 'too pushy' or anything. But, young children are better off being given freedom of choice. Not everything must be fulfilled for the sake of the future. Although there is nothing wrong with that either. Providing knowledge to children, there is no harm at all.

The conversation ended. Pulung continued on his way and Ardika with her lunch. Once again, Ardika's focus was divided on Pulung's figure. Making a quick decision is not the best way.

The information Ardika got was also valid. Pulung had just gotten divorced. It hasn't been a matter of months.

Leaving behind all the thoughts that Ardika Aksara had planned. Not everything she wants is achieved at one time. There is a step by step that he must go through. Waiting for one of them. Being patient with the right time to move forward and start the action.

Seeming to be in a hurry will be judged as rash. That's not Ardika Aksara's style.

Ardika exhaled. His hands stiffened and stirred the rice and the array of side dishes inside. Suddenly, she was full, even though she was extremely hungry. His mind fought. Ardika desperately thought of a bright future for her daughter. The decisions he will make are also part of Naomi's approval, not just his own.

Although small, Naomi has a unique way of thinking. Either because of the lack of guidance from a woman called 'mom' or Ardika who seems to open access for his daughter to understand early on. But Ardika would agree with the first option. Since that day, Ardika's efforts have not been fruitful.

The first year she thought, 'ah maybe it's not fortune' or 'it's not right for her daughter's character'. Ardika's selfish side often prevailed. Seeing himself as an excellent young businessman, owning a small company but able to employ people and open job vacancies really made him proud.

Arrogance suddenly ruled his heart. Hence, Ardika once met a woman - an intern in his office - who was beautiful and smart. Only her economic condition was less fortunate, Ardika decided.

The second year, the same thing happened. Ah, even worse. Ardika made a mistake. Falling into sin. Marrying someone's child, and then asking for a roommate. At the time Ardika thought: "It will be halal soon. It's okay to look at the terrace of hell.' And it happened. Stupidly, his sperm immediately fell in love with her egg.

And when the blue and white object showed two red lines, the woman was hysterical. She said, "I'm not ready to be a mother." Ardika was in shock. He almost had high blood pressure. "I need money to cancel this."

Well, since that was the case, what could Ardika do but say yes and transfer a fantastic amount of money? He might as well break off the relationship.

That was it, that was the end of Ardika's adventure. From then on, his focus was only on Naomi. He worked early in the morning and late at night, traveled to various cities when handling projects, and brought Naomi with him. The business turned out to be a big success. His wings spread even wider.

In this year, the pandemic is rampant, killing all aspects of life, not to mention the Job Creation Bill that the government passed yesterday, his old friend Dante - not really - waits for Ardika to explain. Contacting him and asking for help regarding work.

At first Ardika thought about it. But seeing Naomi getting more active, he couldn't help but act. It could be bad if he kept inviting his daughter to the project. No work, disaster will come-amit-amit!

"Omi want to have an aunt?" That night while carrying Naomi to her big bed, he poured out stories - a substitute for fairy tales. "This is papa's look."

"Mama made Omi?" Her clear eyes widened. "Want ... Omi wants."

Immediately step on the gas. Usually Omi would think a thousand times and be reluctant. But this is without reason from Sabang to Merauke immediately agreed to stop at Lhokseumawe. It feels anjim bet rich odading mang Oleh who is like an ironman.

"I'll accompany Omi to school too."

"Okay."

Already. Is that it? Why is Ardika snorting so loudly?