Sigh. We weren’t as lucky as last Christmas, back then we found battered quilts and blankets; they were a luxury for us, even though they looked like a fox has chewed its way through it beforehand. No matter, they were generous enough to keep us cozy in the unforgiving nights at the corners of deserted neighborhoods where people came in the mornings to throw away dinner leftovers and breakfast trashes.

The curtains were drawn tightly everywhere, I guess that’s a good thing for us too, in a way. My little brother and I had nothing, you see, besides the clothes we were wearing and some spare cents we found on rocky pavements. Oh, and that cardboard, I almost forgot.
If the curtains weren’t drawn, my brother would see how other families celebrate Christmas, and that wouldn’t be good for him, would it?
To see families carving toasty turkeys in the cold dead night; red and white candy canes hanging as conspicuous as shiny ornaments; children opening presents under huge needle-like conifers! No, no it wouldn’t be good.

Christmas time isn’t supposed to be a time to be envious, is it? He was all I had now, just like I was to him. And I have never had such a Christmas as all those people indoors, but that was not what matters, right? My brother wouldn’t understand. He is little; and you know how little boys act when they see something they want, don’t you?

Well, it is really cold that night and all the match sellers have returned to the comforts of their heated homes, so all we could do was return to the slum we called home. It wasn’t so bad, at least we had company there, actually, a lot of companies. I bet old man Gus was there, like he has always been for Christmas nights; and skinny Roger would be there too- I didn’t know why they nicknamed him skinny, we all were- rubbing his hands together to provide himself warmth. He wasn’t very used to this lifestyle yet; he’d adjust in time.

“Sienna, Matthew, where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.” Annemarie caught my arm when we turned to the corner. “We’ve been looking for cardboard or cloth Ann.” My brother whispered.
“You two are terribly late. Come on so we can get it started.” She walked briskly, dragging the two of us with her. “What’s the hurry?” I said, puzzled by the sudden switch in our routine. “We’re celebrating Christmas, Sienna. Oh, here we are.”

We stopped. Yes, old man Gus was there, Roger was there, and all 18 others were there. In the middle of us all, a black broken bucket turned over. On top of it, six loaves of bread, with a single white candle, half melted planted in the middle on that bucket.

“Merry Christmas!” everybody cheered and laughed. Matthew? His cheeks turned rosy and his lips curled. His first Christmas celebration.
“Matthew, merry Christmas.”
He grinned and said, “Merry Christmas Sienna!”

Well, this Christmas wasn’t bad, it wasn’t bad at all.

“ Marchelline.” The beautiful young woman holding her baby lovingly answered in her sweet soft voice. “Can I hold her?” he hesitantly asked, adoring the tiny frame of the baby girl.
Scarlett paused for a second, not sure whether she could trust him with her little girl. Yes, he should be trustworthy. She thought to herself before carefully and gently letting Marchelline off her caress and into her long lost father’s.

He received the mini human into his arms, holding her so very delicately. Fearing that she could break with the slightest tug. The baby yawned sleepily in his hands. His very own baby. “How old is she now?”
“Um… 6 months next week.” Scarlett answered, smiling to herself looking at him holding Marchelline against his chest, slowly rocking her.

“How could you hide this for as long as you have? How is it that you’ve never told me?” Connor whispered, while he slowly shifted from the dining room chair to the sofa.
“I thought… I thought you wouldn’t want her. When we split that summer and when I finally found out I thought about going in this alone. I’ve always wanted a baby girl. Well, in different circumstances; more preferable circumstances. But I didn’t want to deny her of a life. I was terrified of what you’d think.

“I thought it was better this way. I didn’t know if you would love her like I would’ve liked you to. And I’m not seventeen anymore. I’m 26. I can handle a baby. And I love her more than anything. And I don’t think it’s fair for her to live without a presence of a father, especially if the father doesn’t even know about her. So, Connor. Here we are now.”

Connor was still enjoying his newfound baby girl’s presence. How could she think that he wouldn’t love Marchelline? Even when Scarlett left, he could never forget her. Wherever he went he looked for her; he looked for her calm green eyes, her luscious red curls, and her Cupid’s bow lips in every women he saw. Even now he still loved her.

“I love her, Scarlett. I just met her half an hour ago and I’ve fallen in love with this tiny girl. Thank you for coming to see me. “
“Yeah.” She said whilst tugging her red hair behind her ears. A smile fell upon her red lips; she was relieved. He loved his baby, he acknowledged her, he accepted her.

Connor caught Scarlett from the corner of his eyes. She was tugging her hair behind her eyes. He knew her well to understand her habits. She was relieved. He smiled to himself. You’ve finally done something right.
Marchelline have fallen asleep in his arms, making him happy, knowing that she trusted him enough.

He looked at Marchelline and looked for himself in her. He remembered his own blue eyes imitated by hers exactly. Her nose, her lips just like her mother’s. And that ginger hair… Scarlett’s beautiful shade.

He remembered all that happened that summer, the silent agreement to part their separate ways, the painful stab in his chest that he refused to show. Well, it was consensual. They know they wouldn’t make it in two different cities, either one has to compromise to make it work. They just didn’t understand it yet.

Why didn’t he understand?

“Scarlett?” he called her. “Yeah? Oh…” she saw their girl asleep in his arms and hurriedly came to get her from him. “No, that’s okay Scarlett. Let her sleep in my arms for some more time. I’m enjoying this. Come sit beside me.”

Scarlett sat wordlessly beside him.
“Scar… I’m sorry.”
She was astonished. Sorry? “Why?”
“I didn’t get it back then. I get it now. I’ll move to Chicago. I want to be in your lives. I love her. And.. I still love you. Can we start over?”

Scarlett was silent for long suffocating moments.

“Yes.”

I sat silently on my chair, watching the leaves as they started to fall. The skies have turned dense orange, and the little birds chirped happily whilst flying to its nest. The crisp, crescent moon has risen halfway up, but the sun had yet to set completely. My radio sung old melodies that brought me nostalgia. I just kept on sitting there, closing my eyes and wishing that the rest of the world would drown in the melody. Oh, how I wished.

I heard the familiar squeak of the wooden door to my study. “Ma’am? Your daughter is downstairs. Are you ready to meet her?”

“Yes.” I rose from my comfortable chair and walked a few steps to the door. The sound of my heels knocking the floor was the only sound in that large room. I stepped out and my butler shut the door softly behind me, ended only with a shy thud.

***

“Why?” I responded to the rather outrageous request of my one and only daughter. She was 16 at that time, and I, I was 37. “I’m quitting school to study acting in New York, mother. Joel had asked me to join him.”

“Acting can wait. You tell Joel that!” I answered furiously, banging my antique desk as I did.

Joel was my stepson. He had moved to New York with his uncle about a year from that time. My husband had died 3 years before, and I had been raising Kyra alone since then. And she had become quite the rebel.

“You can’t force that out of me, mother! My passion is acting!” she starting barking words right back at me. Really, this girl! “Go then. But if you fail to reach that dream, don’t you even dare to come back here and beg for money!” I said, and walked away.

Two weeks later, Kyra boarded on her plane to New York City. And I haven’t met her since. Until that day.

***

I walked down the steps carefully not to slip. It had been 4 years since Kyra left, and I wasn’t exactly young. I was 41.

I saw Kyra at the bottom of the stairs, standing silently with a tall glass of chardonnay in her hands. She looked much older; of course she was. She looked up as soon as she heard the sound of my heels. “Mother.” She whispered.

‘Kyra.” I replied briefly. We never actually have any warmth left in us since Kyra turned 13 and her father died; so the formality was to be expected.

I scanned Kyra from top to bottom; her lush, straight red hair had been curled unprofessionally, adding more years to her that she did not have. Her bright green eyes have lost a portion of its normal spark. Thick purple ringlets were below her eyes and her fair skin was very mildly tanned. For a 20-year-old girl, she looked as if she was in her mid 30s. She wore a tropical ankle-length dress, what appeared to be wooden sandals and some cheap beaded jewelry. Four years ago, she was a young girl who wore Stella McCartney’s and other designers’ trend. Now she appeared like she had been a backpacking tourist returning from somewhere in the tropics.

I ushered her to the sofa and told her to take a seat. Now the real business starts, I thought.  “Mother,” Kyra started, “I have spent 4 years on my own in New York, freed from your influence here. I have seen the outside world filled with different racial traditions, and I was picky with it, just the way you taught me, to separate the good from the bad. And I have decided to get married.” I didn’t fully grasp what getting married had to do with racial traditions, but I let her continue, “With Joel.”

I waited for her to continue her sentence, but that was it. “With Joel? Your half-brother?” I chuckled in disbelief. “I’m serious, mother.” Kyra said, and she meant what she said. “Joel Newman? Your half-brother? Really, Kyra?”

Her expression remained unchanged I guess she had made up her mind long before she got here. “So, what tradition are you talking about exactly?” I asked, tried to keep my voice calm. “Well, mother. Some Asian countries allow marrying relatives.”

“But he’s your half-brother, Kyra!” I couldn’t contain my emotion any longer. Marrying Joel? That could be one of the stupidest things she could have thought of. What was she trying to do? Kill me?

“I know, mother!” she started crying, “But there isn’t anything else I can do! I’m pregnant!” she shouted so loud. Now, if she was trying to give me a heart attack, I believed that she was nearly there. My eyebrows were raised so high I was afraid they would hit the ceilings, “Pregnant?”

She nodded sorrowfully, covering her face as if she was ashamed. She was right to do so, because I felt my hand burning, ready to slap her. She has brought back a wound greater that the one she made when she left.

“How did this happen?” I resisted the urge to yell to the top of my lungs. I was 41 for Pete’s sake! “I was drunk, he was too,” she couldn’t continue, she shook her head in guilt. I didn’t even know what to do anymore. I wasn’t ready to be a grandmother; even more if the child my daughter was conceiving wasn’t legal. Pre-marital pregnancy; why my family from all the other families out there?

I sat closer to my daughter. I slowly hugged her. I haven’t done a stunt like that in 4 years and I have shut my heart the minute she steeped out of this house. She cried even louder in my arms. I could not do anything but be still.

***

“Ma’am.” My butler called me in my study one evening. Kyra had gone back to New York two days ago. I told her that if she doesn’t want to marry Joel, she didn’t have to. I’d help her raise that kid that was coming. She didn’t say another word and exited my front door. I haven’t heard from her since. “What is it, Sebastian?” I asked, quite rudely. I didn’t mean it that way, but he came in at the exactly the wrong time. I was just thinking about Kyra.

“Ms. Newman is downstairs now ma’am. Do you want to meet her?” Sebastian informed me. “Ms. Newman? Kyra?” I was enthralled by Sebastian’s words. “Yes ma’am.” He said again. I stood immediately and walked at fast as I could to the staircase in my 10cm stilettos.

“Mom?” I heard Kyra. And I saw her, she was in the front door, her luggage slumped on the floor. I raced downstairs and gave Kyra the hug I have waited so long to give. Finally, after long four years, my little girl had returned. The tears I have withheld for so long finally wet my face; smothering my make up as it went down. But I didn’t care. My little girl was back. Finally home at last.

I woke up that morning with a face-full of sweat. My eyes watery and everything looked blurry. I glanced at the digital clock beside my bed, which was blinking at me. 12:30 midnight. Perfect, I thought sourly. My completely air-conned condo was cold and rather uncomfortable, especially that night. I dropped myself back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep anymore. I looked at the huge calendar across my room; ah, it was that wretched day again. No wonder I couldn’t sleep; no wonder I had that nightmare again. I rose from my bed and walked wobbly into the kitchen and got myself a cold drink.

***

It had been exactly 5 years since the day that all dreams had been snatched away and replaced by nightmare. It was mid-autumn that time, and the weather had been less chilly than the year before. We were at home, my family and I. in less than two hours, my brother; Andre would be flying to Vienna to study painting. We were supposed to send him off, but the house was busy and mom said that she would take us there as soon as she was done with the dishes. I was drinking coffee on the recliner, watching TV and glancing on my watch occasionally to make sure we wouldn’t be late. 20 minutes later, mom have had the car ready for us and asked us to hop in. we did, and the car raced through the road the second after.

Andre was sitting near the departure gate when we arrived. His face beamed as soon as he saw us running to him. He said, “Hey, I didn’t think you all would make it.” Mom hugged his 18 year-old-son, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Dad hugged him afterwards, “I’m so proud of you, Andre.”

When they were done, I walked to my brother and hugged him. I wouldn’t be seeing him for a long time, and I didn’t want to waste my last chance. I would miss him so much, “I’ll miss you, Andre.”

“Me too, Dee. Me too.”

The last call didn’t come very long afterwards, and the gate was open. Andre took one look at us, “see you in a few years. I’ll call often.” He smiled and walked away. “goodbye…” I said from where I was; although my voice was very soft and I didn’t thought he would hear me, he turned back, smiled and said, “Goodbye, Deirdre.” I never knew it was the last time I would see Andre.

The plane Andre boarded fell and there were only 6 survivors.

Andre wasn’t one of them.

***

I grunted when I found out there I have run out of milk. Just my luck. Really, that day? I took a glass of cold water instead; I sat and the couch and gulped it down slowly. It was tough living alone, that’s for sure. Having to get all the things I needed every month, preparing my own meals and taking care of my own laundry. I sighed, Andre never even gotten the chance to study in Vienna; he never even made it there. I turned my IPod on and let the songs sang to me.

Imagine there’s no countries,

it isn’t hard to do.

Nothing to kill or die for.

And no religion too.

Imagine all the people living life in peace.

Ah, this used to be Andre’s favorite song. He would sing it everyday, and he would write the lyrics down countless times. He loved the world, that Andre. He wanted his art to be one that can bring nations together. And he didn’t even get the chance.

The sun had already gone down a little when I arrived at the cemetery. A bouquet of agapanthus in my hands; his favorite flower. I walked towards a grand white cross at one side of that cemetery.

Andre R. Lucas.

16 February 1987 – 15 September 2005

I laid the flowers in front of his grave and sat awhile there. “You know, I stop believing in dreams when you died. But why is it, that every year, every dreamless year, that one piece of nightmare will wake me up. Every 15^th of September, that same nightmare will come. It’s about you. And my guess is that it’s from you. I get it, Andre. I shouldn’t stop dreaming just because you couldn’t anymore. I’m sorry I stopped believing even in the daylight dreams you taught me to believe in.

“Your dreams will live on. Although I couldn’t wake you up from your eternal sleep, I will wake your dreams up. Thank you.” I smiled and stood. Although I was talking to myself, I didn’t feel like a fool for doing so. I believe Andre heard me, loud and clear. I walked home that day, with a smile.

And for the first time in a long time, I dreamt a sweet dream.

Three months afterwards, Andre’s old paintings started to appear in art museums. Including my very favorite, ‘daylight dreams’

I didn’t do much, really. His works were amazing; all I did was let the world see it. I was, after all, an art critique. My opinion mattered; and, after a long while, I could finally feel the emotion behind the paintings.

Daylight dreams could never die as long as you don’t let them die.

Continue dreaming

Imagine, one minute I was piling the last of my old documents, and the next minute, a cot was pushed along the corridor, a nurse calling out, “We need an emergency room and surgeons now!” I ran outside and Lydia, the receptionist led me to the emergency unit, while she explained the situation. “That woman’s car crashed the side of that tunnel. Her car was racing when she crashed; many broken bones for sure, some broken glass in her system probably. Please lead the operation, Doctor. We’re currently short-handed.” I nodded and paced quicker to the emergency unit up ahead.

“She’s gone through cardiac arrest. Prepare 120 volts.” I ordered the others to assist me on this one. I had to save her.

***

Six months ago…

“Doctor!” a little girl skipped towards me; her teddy bear tight in her arms. I treated that girl about three days ago; she had appendicitis and I had to operate on her. I squatted to match her level, “Yes?”

“Look, doctor! It doesn’t hurt anymore.” She grinned, pointing to where her appendix used to be. I smiled back, “I told you not to worry, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did!” she cheered happily then skipped away. I never thought that would be the last time I saw her.

She died three days later from kidney failure. I missed it in the diagnosis; she died because of my ignorance.

“Hey.” Dr. Rosalind Johnson sat across me in my room. It was lunch hour, but I decided not to go downstairs to the canteen. “mm.” I murmured back. I was depressed and frustrated; a kid just died because of me. The last thing I wanted to do was let anybody pity me and said that it wasn’t my fault, because it was. “How are you now? Rough day, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Rosalind snorted in disagreement, “You think that NOBODY had died in my watch? I’ve been here longer than you have, Ivy. You have seen nothing yet.” She shook her head. “What are you trying to say, Rosalind? A little girl just died BECAUSE OF ME!” I raised my voice so loud I was even shocked. Dr. Johnson rose from her seat, “Yes. And it’s your fault.”

I was surprised by her words, but I couldn’t say a thing to her. Yes, it was my fault.

“But you cannot do anything to help her now. So why don’t you pull yourself together and face it. It’s your fault; don’t let it happen again.” Her words pierced through me, sharp. She stared at me a few seconds and then she walked away.

She didn’t look back, and since that day, neither did I.

***

“We’ve got a pulse!” Doctor Wyatt announced. I exhaled one long breath; finally. We proceeded with the operation. Passing the scalpel, forceps and drain back and forth until we finally sutured her. I sighed in relief once the heartbeat and condition stabilized.

“Yet another job well done, doctor Blair.” Dr. Max Wyatt congratulated me. I smiled back gratefully, “You too, Doctor.”

***

Two weeks after the first death of my career…

I walked pass the corridors quickly until the end of path, where the bronze plaque on the door said, “NEUROLOGIST- DR. ROSALIND JOHNSON.”

I landed 3 soft knocks on the door and pushed it open. “Ah, Ivy. Hi.” Rosalind said; she looked past her shoulders. Her office was a wreck; all the cabinets were pulled off the rack, all the papers off their folders and a big box on her table, filled with her stuffs.

“Rosalind? Where are you going?”

“You haven’t heard? I’m retiring.” She answered lightly. I never imagined Rosalind would retire so young. “Retiring?  Are you serious?”

“Hey, I’m 56 now. It’s about time, don’t you think?” she said, while she continued packing. “I heard about you husband, Rosalind.”

Her hands stopped moving. She froze. “I know what happened. I’m sorry.” I said, hoping that she’ll break the awkward silence. She shook her head slowly. “Do you know why I became a doctor, Ivy? I don’t want to see families cry again. I want to help as much people as I could to stop all the pain. But I’ve made families cry, and I’ve let myself cry. My own husband, Ivy! Brain tumor, Ivy! I’m a neurologist and my husband died from brain tumor!” she broke down. My heart sank a little with her. “I became a doctor because I wanted to save people. I wanted them to have futures. I still do. From the beginning, I thought that I was ready. But I wasn’t; I couldn’t handle that I was the one who have failed the people I wanted to help. But then I knew, that even doctors fail. And sometimes doctors need a cure for their broken soul. You gave me that cure, Rosalind. You told me that I should continue on and do better for the community and not giving up. That’s the risk being a doctor, Rosalind. Lives are in our hands; we are the ones that reveal the bad news, but we also are the ones who provide future. He would be proud for what you have done, Rosalind.”

Six weeks later, Rosalind did quit her job as a neurologist, but she continued her work in a little clinic in North Africa, helping the people who needed her most.

I guess that’s the thing about being doctors. You heal, but you could never heal your own pain when you fail. With great power, comes great responsibility, and that’s just what doctors have. Great powers.

.Prologue.

Dia seakan udara bagiku, dia cahaya yang membangunkan sang matahari setiap pagi untuk menyambutku. Tapi  dia menghilang, mengelapkan duniaku. Menghapus setiap warna yang tersisah dan mengantikannya dengan kegelapan tak berujung. Akankah terangku kembali?

Chapter 1.

Moving day, itulah hari ini. Matahari cerah sekali seakan menyapa diriku. Aku memang tidak pindah dari Mephis, hanya pindah ke tempat yang –semoga- lebih besar dan bagus. Aku sama sekali belum melihat tempatnya, bahkan gambarnya pun tidak. Tapi papa sangat suka rumah itu. Kata papa, rumah itu lebih dekat kesekolah dari pada rumahku yang ini; jadi aku sepertinya bisa berjalan pulang. Aku sangat bersemangat akan hari ini!

“Ariadne, sudah masuk semua?” papa bertanya –dengan sangat kencang- dari dalam rumah. Aku sedang bersusah payah memasukan barang-barang kedalam truk yang kuyakin akan segera overload. “Satu lagi papa!” aku setengah berteriak agar dia dapat mendengarku. Saat aku mendorong tas terakhir kedalam dengan sekuat tenaga, papa bergegas keluar dan membantuku mendorongnya. “Trima kasih pa.” aku tersenyum sedikit. Menunjukan apresiasi akan bantuanya barusan. “Tentu saja Aria.” Dia mengelus rambutku dan kembali ke pintu depan untuk menguncinya.

Papaku tinggi dan kurus. Rambutnya pendek dan rapih. Dia –tahun ini-menginjak umur 42. Rambut putih sudah mulai mencuat diantara rambutnya yang gelap. Mama meninggal setelah melahirkanku. Aku yang selamat. Dokter sempat memperingati mama dan papa bahwa kemungkinan besar hanya satu dari kami yang akan keluar dari ruang bersalin hidup-hidup; hanya aku atau mama. Siapa yang akan diselamatkan? Tanya dokter saat itu. Mama langsung menangis dan menjawab bahwa dia ingin aku yang hidup, dia memohon agar aku dibiarkannya hidup dan dia dibiarkan mati mengantikanku. Papa tidak tega melawan. Kata papa, sebelum mama meninggal, mama sempat mengendongku seakan aku hal yang paling berharga untuknya didunia. Dia juga menamaiku Ariadne. Setelah itu, dia meninggal dengan senyum tulus dimukanya. Akulah peninggalan terakhirnya.

Aku pernah melihat foto mama; dia sangat cantik. Rambut merah keritingnya membingkai wajahnya yang berbentuk hati dengan sempurna. Seulas senyuman yang indah terpajang diwajahnya yang mulus. Dia terlihat sangat bahagia. Dipelukannya, bayi mungil berwarna pink terlelap, matanya tertutup dan si mungil pun tersenyum damai. Itu aku. Papa bilang aku mirip dengan mama. Rambutku berwarna coklat gelap, sewarna dengan papa, tapi ujung rambutku keriting dan berombak seperti mama. Wajahku pun berbentuk hati persis miliknya. Tapi mataku berwarna abu-abu dan bukan hijau limau mama.

“Sudah selesai! Ayo kita berangkat!” papa menuntunku ke mobil ford fiestanya dan menyuruhku untuk masuk dan mengenakan sabuk pengaman. Aku sudah tidak sabar melihat rumah baruku!

Kita melewati beberapa tikungan dan jalan kecil, akhirnya kita sampai didepan rumah bertipe klasik yang besar luar biasa. “Ayo keluar, Ariadne; jangan bengong terus.” Papa meledekku. Sebelum kubalas, sudah kudengar pintu mobil sisiku terbuka, papamenuntunku keluar bak tuan putri. Aku tak sanggup menahan tawa. Papa mengulurkan tangannya kearah rumah itu dan menyadarkanku tujuan kami kemari. Aku menatap rumah besar itu seperti orang idiot untuk entah berapa lamanya sebelum akhirnya papa bertanya, “Apa kau mau menemaniku melihat-lihat atau kau mau tetap disini menatap gedung ini seakan akan gedungnya siap menelanmu?” papa tertawa kecil atas leluconnya sendiri yang masih sulit kucerna karena kekagumanku. Aku akhirnya memandangnya curiga lalu menyambut tanganya dengan senang hati.

Kami menaiki tangga marmer yang indah dan melewati double doors kayu megah dan pemandangan yang menawan itu membuatku menahan nafas. Kakiku terpaku ditempat, tidak mau bergerak. Keindahanya telah menahanku.

“Pa?”

“Iya sayang?”

“Ini gila.”

Chapter 2.

“Bukankah ini rumah yang indah?” papa mencoba meyakinkanku. “Ini gila.” Aku megulangi sekali lagi. “Sayang, rumah ini cantik sekali. Kenapa kau tidak senang?” papa terdengar benar-benar khawatir. Aku akhirnya menarik nafas panjang, “Ini indah sekali pa. aku menyukainya,” aku memeluknya singkat,kurasa dia masih tidak menyadari kegalauanku. Aku tersenyum-walau sedikit terpaksa- “Nah pa, aku mau kamarku dilantai atas!”

Aku menghela nafas saat aku meninggalkan papa dan masuk kekamar yang sebesar ukuran kamar seorang putri. Sudah kuduga kamarku akan seperti ini. Besar, megah dan segala itu. Tirai shiffon yang halus tergantung menutupi pintu kaca slide kearah balkon. Aku menyibakkan tirainya dan membuka pintunya. Udara segar menyapu kulitku. Segarnya. Kulihat kebawah, ada sepetak taman bunga dibawah sana; taman bunga yang indah dan –jujur saja- terlihat sedikit terlantar. Banyak sekali tanaman yang sudah kering. Papa benar-benar overboard dengan pilihannya kali ini. Aku tahu papa suka rumah seperti ini yang bertipe klasik, tapi ini… kata ‘gila’ terlintas lagi dalam benakku.

Aku sendiri suka sekali akan hal-hal antik dan indah; tapi dalam skala sebesar ini? Ini seperti rumah yang dibuat seabad lalu! beberapa alasan yang membuatku percaya rumah ini baru dibangun dan dibuat seperti ini sepenuhnya atas selera pemiliknya adalah surat tanahnya, bahan bagunan yang kokoh, ukiran dan corak keramiknya.

Aku memang berjiwa tua –kata orang-orang- tetapi ini sudah melebihi bahkan batas kewarasan siapapun. Aku menghela nafas lagi. Terdengar tiga ketukan di pintuku yang baru, diikuti oleh suara papa yang berat dan sangat kukenal. “Aria, kita mau memasukan perabotanmu sekarang.”

“Masuklah. Aku menjawab. Pintu terbuka dengan halus, hampir tidak bersuara. Satu persatu, perabotanku diangkut masuk oleh orang-orang besar yang tidak satupun kekenal. Aku lega saat mereka semua akhirnya keluar. Aku menatap kamarku sekali dan langsung menyadari contrastnya yang sangat mencolok. “Papa tidak membelikanku ranjang berkelambu?” aku bertanya sinis; tapi sepertinya papa tidak menyadari nada sinisku. “Maaf sayang, aku tidak tahu kau menginginkan itu. Akan kupesan sekarang.”baru saja di mengeluarkan handphonenya dari saku celananya ketika aku menolk, “Aku tidak mau sebuah kasur berkelambu, pa. “ dia segera memasukan handphonenya kembali ke saku dan mengatakan, “Sebenarnya aku masih mau mengobrol banyak, tapi aku harus menata perabotan.” Dia permisi dan keluar dari kamarku; menutup pintu dibelakangnya dengan baik dan rapat.

Mungkin aku akan tumbuh untuk menyukai rumah ini. Lagipula, kamarku besar. Aku menghela nafas lagi; siapa yang sedang aku coba bohongi? Rumah ini besar sekali, terlalu besar. Pasti akan sepi sekali. Ini rumah yang terlalu besar untuk seseorang yang kecil seperti aku. Aku meringkuk di queen- sized bed milikku dan membiarkan diriku sendiri tenggelam dalam kesunyian.

Keesokan paginya, aku tetap tidak merasa lebih baik. Papa sudah pergi bekerja, dia sudah menyiapkan sarapan dan note kecil yang mengatakan agar aku menikmati sandwich buatannya yang sudah disediakan.

Rumah yang besar itu benar-benar sepi. Sunyi. Tak ada suara lain selain langkah kakiku dan nafasku. Aku membawa sandwichku ke dalam kamarku. Setidaknya disana aku bisa mendengar suara burung berkicau bahagia. Disana, aku bisa makan sedikit lebih tenang; walau tetap saja, kesepianku masih tersisa. Aku bukanlah seseorang yang bisa dikurung dalam penjara seperti ini; walaupun bentuknya sebuah rumah mewah, ini tetaplah penjara bagiku.

Setelah gigitan terakhir sandwichku, aku masuk kedalam kamarku dan menarik secarik kertas. ‘lonely.’ Begitulah yang kutulis dilembaran tipis kecil itu. Aku melipatnya menjadi sebuah kapal terbang. Aku selalu membuat kapal-kapal terbang dari kecil. Aku tidak sepenuhnya ingat kapan kebiasaan itu muncul, tapi aku tidak berniat untuk menghilangkannya. Dulu, kertas kertas itu berupa bujur sangkar dan bukan kapal terbang. Dan dulu, aku membakar mereka –tanpa sepengetahuan papa tentunya- dihalaman belakang. Tapi aku ketahuan bermain dengan api suata saat banyak tahun yang lalu saat aku hamper saja membuat rumah kami segumpal asap, debu dan abu. Papa menghentikan kebiasaan membakar, tapi aku masih saja lekat dengan kebiasaan menulis kata-kata yang dapat mengexpresikan perasaanku pada sesuatu saat tertentu. Sekarang, aku tidak membakar mereka lagi, aku menerbangkan mereka. Secara, aku telah membebaskan perasaan-perasaanku itu. Yang buruk maupun yang baik. Aku selau saja merasa lebih ringan setelah melespakan beban itu. Dirumahku yang lama, jika mereka jatuh di teras, aku akan berlari dan memunggutnya dan mencoba menerbangkannya lagi. Disini, aku tidak tahu apa yang akan kulakukan jika kapal terbang kertasku jatuh ke taman belakang. Mungkin aku akan membiarkannya dulu dan memunggutnya kalau aku kebetulan berada dibawah. Sudahlah, tidak perlu memikirkannya dulu. Kuterbangkan kesepianku di kapal terbang itu; menontonnya menantang langit dan akhirnya menghilang dari pandanganku.

Chapter 3.

Sudah 9 hari sejak aku pertama pindah kerumah baruku itu. Hari ini adalah hari terakhir sekolah karena besok kami akan libur musim semi. Aku akan merindukan sekolah. Sangat amat merindukannya. Dan kabar yang lebih buruknya lagi, papa pergi ke Milwaukee selama seminggu untuk semacam conference perusahaan. Aku akan sendirian di rumah besar itu selama seminggu ini.

Sore itu aku suduk sendirian di balkon sambil melukis. Aku memang mendalami seni lukis. Itu adalah salah satu caraku untuk mengekspresikan diriku. Sebuak kanvas kosong adalah seseorang yang kosong; hampa, tiada apa-apanya. Tidak berperasaan, tidak hidup, tidak dapat bercerita. Sebuah keanvas kosong adalah sebuah cangkang kosong. Seorang pelukis menghidupkan kanvas yang tadinya mati untuk dapat menceritakan sebuah cerita; menceritakan apapun yang si pelukis inginkan dan bahkan bercerita lebih banyak lagi. Sang pelukis member karyanya sepotong hidupnya agar si lukisan bisa hidup. Menurutku itu adalah hal yang luar biasa. Aku tidak berbakat dalam kebanyakan seni; aku bisa main harmonica sedikt, yang lainya aku tak bisa. Inggris adalah satu-satunya bahasa yang kukuasai, bahasa spanyolku benar-benar hancur. Dan lukisanku… well, lukisanku. Karyaku tidak bisa disebut luar biasa. Bahkan mungkin masih dibawah standar sedikit.

Bagiku, kuas-kuas adlah harta berharga.. walau mungkin aku tidak terlalu handal memakai mereka, aku sangat mencintai melukis dengan kuas-kuas tersebut. Di kanvas, kata-kata yang sulit kuutartakan seakan tumpah berupa cat warna warni di palette ku. Tak ada satu orang-pun yang pernah melihat lukisanku, bahkan papa. Lukisanku kupotret dan fotonya kuberikan kepada papa, tapi mendekati aslinya papa tidak pernah. Dirumahku yang dulu, papa memberrikan loteng rumah untuk menjadi studio pribadiku. Dirumah ini pun, dia sudah menyiapkan dan memberikan sebuah kamar yang sangat luas untuk dijadikan studioku. Tapin sampa sekarang, lukisa-lukisanku masih dibungkus pelastik dan diletakan dikamarku itu. Ada sekitar 40 lukisan disana.

Biasanya, 4 jam bisa kuhabiskan hanya untuk melukis, tapi di suasana rumah baruku, aku tidak bisa. Aku tak tahu jelas alasanya, tapi sepertinya, kesepian membuatku gampang lelah. Biasanya pada jam ini, tetanggaku selalu datang mengunjungiku dan kita akan berjalan-jalan bersama. Temanku itu bernama Liza. Papa bahkan juga sudah mengangapnya anak, apalagi sejak papa Liza meninggal di kecelakaan tiga tahun yang lalu. Aku merindukan Liza dan semua tetanggaku yang lainnya. Beberapa hari yang lalu aku sudah mencoba beramah tamah dengan tetangga- tetangga baruku, tetapi banyak dari mereka adalah orang paruh baya yang sibuk. Rumah disebelah kananku, aku tidak tahu siap yang menghuni. Aku sudah mengetuk pintu, tapi tak ada jawaban. Aku bahkan sudan meninggalkan sekotak kecil muffin denga selembar note yang kuisi,

‘Dear new neighbor, aku harap kau menyukai muffinnya! Salam kenal, tetangga baruku, Ariadne.”

Tapi sampai sekarang aku belum tahu satu halpun tentang tetanggaku yang misterius itu. Rumahnya megah dan besar juga, tapi dengan design modern minimalis; tidak seperti punyaku.

Aku menghela nafas untuk entah keberapa kalinya hari itu dan meninggalkan lukisan urak-urakanku dan masuk mengambil secarik kertas lagi. Aku tak tahu apa yang akan kutulis; lonely lagi? Hanya lonely yang nampaknya menjelaskan situasiku sekarang. Namun aku menulis ‘desperate for a friend.’ Karena memang cocok juga. Aku siap menerbangkannya, tapi angin sedikit seperti itu  tidak akan mampu menerbangkan pesawatku. Andai saja ada tempat lain dimana setidaknya lebih tinggi, agar tidak jatuh ke halaman belakang. Aku menatap langit biru yang membentang tiada batasnya itu; di atap! Aku bisa menerbangannya diatas sana! Aku keluar kamarku untuk kedua kalinya hari itu untuk memanjat tangga menuju kebebasan.

Aku memang suka udara segar dan kebebasan; atap dalah salah satu tempat yang cocok untukku. Memakai dress hijauku, yang kebetulan sedang kupakai, naik keatap memang agak sedikit sulit. Begitu aku membuka jendela atap, angin menyapuku. Rasanya luar biasa. Aku melangkahi kerangka jendela itu dan keluar pelan-pelan; mencoba menjaga keseimbanganku. Atapnya luas, dan nampaknya menyatu dengan atap kedua ketetanggaku- satu di setiap sis. Aku sedang menyiapkan pesawatku saat angin menerpa dan membuatku menjatuhkan kapal terbangku itu. Aku beruntung karenan pesawat mungil itu tersangkut di tepi atap dan masih bisa kuraih. Aku menjerit-jerit pelan sambil menuruni atap yang licin dan sama sekali tidak rata itu. Aku membungkuk untuk meraihnya.

Oh no.

Keseimbanganku goyah dan kakiku tersandung. Aku akan jatuh dan mati. Doa-doa berkumandang di benakku, menagispun aku tak bisa. Detik-detik itu adalah detik-detik terlama yang pernah aku lewati. Waktu terasa berhenti sampai-sampai aku masih sempat berpikir bahwa waktu kasusku diperiksa nantinya, aku akan dibilang bahwa aku bunuh diri. Papa akan sedih sekali, bahkan mungkin menyalahkan dirinya sendiri.  Kejadian melodramatic itu dipercantik dengan kenyataan bahwa ditanganku ada satu lembar kertas yang bertuliskan bahwa aku kesepian. Kasus yang klasik sekali. Diambang keputusasaanku, aku merasa ada tangan kuat yang meraih dan menarik pergelangan tanganku. “hold on.” Kata orang itu. Ketakutanku menguap. Tangan itu menarikku keatas,dan akhirnya aku bisa mengangkat beratku sendiri dan naik keatas. Nafas orang itu tersengal-sengal, seperti diriku. “Thanks.” Aku berbisik kepadanya ditengah-tengah upayaku untuk bernafas. Dia mengangkat wajahnya dan menatapku; dia terlihat seperti sang dewa yunani. Rambut keemasanya mengilat dibawah cahaya matahari. Mata birunya indah; dalam seperti lautan.

Chapter 4.

“Apakah itu sangat berharga?” dia menunjuk pesawat kertasku yang sudah tidak berbentuk di digenggamanku. “Kalau kau mau, aku bisa membuatnya untukmu, tidak harus melompat untuk itu.” Dia nyengir.

“Aku tidak loncat,” aku berkata defensif. Wajahku panah karena malu, “Aku jatuh tersandung.”

“benarkah itu?” dia mengganguk singkat seperti orang tua sok mengerti. “Ngomong ngomong, apa yang sedang kau lakukan diatap? Dengan pakaian seperti itu?” dia menunjuk diriku dengan dagunya, aku mengikuti pandangannya dan melihat dress hijauku , tepinya sudah sedikit sobek. “ah, kebetulan saja aku sedang berpakaian seperti ini. Aku disini untuk menerbangkan ini. Setidaknya tadi, sebelum… yah, sebelum aku jatuh dan menghancurkannya.”

“Untuk apakah itu?”

“Ini seperti diary singkat sekali yang kubiarkan lepas, dan tidak kusimpan. Kalau persaan buruk dikubur kan rasanya berat dan sakit.” Aku tersenyum. Dia tersentak kaget lalu kembali tersenyum kembali. “Aku Aiden, tetanggamu.” Dia mengulurkan tangannya kepadaku yang kusambut, “Ariadne.”

“Oh, terimakasih untuk muffinya. Mereka luar biasa.” Dia memuji. “sama sama, aku senag kau menyukainya,” Aku senang sekali ada seseorang yang menyukai muffinku selain papa, “Oh ya, Trims untuk menyelamatkanku. Kenapa kau disini?”

“Aku sedang dijendela sana saat kau menjerit-jerit kecil. Aku selalu ada disanaruangan yang disebelah sana itu kamarku.” Dia menunjuk ke ruang dibelakang jendela yang tadi disebutnya.

“Dimanakah orang tuamu? Apakah merak tidak khawtir akan kau berada diatap seperti ini?”

Dia mengangkat bahu singkat, “Aku hidup sendiri.”

“Kau serius? Itu adalah rumah yang sangat besar! Dan kau coba mengatakan padaku bahwa kau tinggal dirumah itu sendirian?!” dia mengganguk. Aku pun terdiam. Dia pasti jauh lebih kesepian daripadaku; jauh lebih kesepian. “Tadi kau bilang namamu Ariadne kan?”

Aku mengganguk, “Bagaiman kalau kita kerumahku untuk mengobati luka-lukamu itu? Sepertinya tidak ada yang akan membantumu melakukan demikian dirumahmu.” Dia menawarkan. Aku ingin menolak tapi terlihat seperti orang yang sangat baik; apalagi dia adalah seorang tetangga, aku harus setidaknya punya seorang teman disini. “Baiklah.”

Dia menuntunku kearah jendelanya, mendorong jendelanya dan menpersilahkanku masuk; dia mengikuti tepat dibelakangku. “wow.” Kataku.

Ruangan lebar itu mewah dalam segala sudut pandang, tapi misterius disaat yang sama. Kamar itu memiliki cushion walls berwarna abu-abu. Ranjang pendek berkerangka dengan warna serupa ada di sisi kiri ruangan itu, disebelahnya, ada sebuah rak buku penuh yang ditata rapih. Didepan ranjang ada flat screen TV aquos Sharp yang ditempelkan di tembok. Dibawahnya, ada rak custom made untuk CD serta DVD player Phillips.

Disisi lain ruangan itu –harus melewati dua anak tangga- ada meja lebar lengkap dengan lampu meja berwarna hitam yang senada dengan tempat pulpen, folder dan mejanya sendiri. Disebelahnya berdiri lagi-lagi sebuah rak buku yang sudah penuh. Diseberangnya, sebuah working room slash lounge dengan dua unit laptop diatas meja. Sofa ada di belakang meja dan sound system melengkapi ruangan itu. Sebelahnya adalah sebuah pintu masuk keluar. Dan disebelahnya lagi ada lemari baju kayu dan sebuah laci kecil. Benar-benar kamar to die for.

Dia masuk kedalam kamarnya dan membuka laci diseberang kamarnya. Bunyi barang digerak-gerakan didalam laci terdengar sampai ditempat aku berdiri. Setelah dia mengeluarkan doa botol kecil dan satu plastik kapas bola,  dia menutup lacinya dan duduk dikasurnya. “Akankah kau terus berdiri disana?” dia menepuk kasurnya,  tempat yang kosong disebelahnya. Aku menghampirinya, langkahku pendek dan pelan.  Sakit, pikirku. Telapak kakiku pasti tergores. aku mendudukan diriku disebelahnya dan kutatap kedua botol ditanganya. Betadine dan antiseptik. “Oh aku lupa.” Dia kembali ke depan lacinya dan menarik keluar perban. Dia berdiri dihadapanku dan jongkok untuk mengobati kakiku. “Kau tahu kan bahwa kau tidak harus mengobatiku?” aku tertawa riang; sudah agak lama sejak aku mengajak orang berbicara. Aiden bagaikan air di Padang pasir yang kering. “Tentu. Tapi aku seorang born gentleman; aku harus membantu seorang nona dalam kesulitan.” Dia tersenyum, memamerkan sederet gigi putih bersih cemerlang. “Kamarmu keren sekali. Pasti mahal.”

“Tidak juga. Ini ruangan yang kupilih sendiri perabotannya dan strukturnya berdasarkan personal taste, jadi relative bagus atau jeleknya. Mahal? Mungkin saja. Semuanya ditanggung orangtuaku sebagai hadiah ulang tahunku yang ke 18.”

“Dan kapankah itu?” aku memancing informasi tentang dirinya. Dia menggangkat bahunya, “beberapa bulan yang lalu.”

“Jadi sekarang kau berumur 18 tahun? Sudah luluskah?” dia mengganguk, “Sudah.”
Jadi Aiden berumur 18 tahun, tinggal sendiri di Memphis dan sudah lulus sekolah. Kenapa dia nampaknya menganggur? Bukannya sekarang dia mestinya melanjutkan ke universitas pilihannya?

Aku memberanikan diri bertanya. Dia tertawa mendengar pertanyaanku. “Tentu, aku akan melanjutkan ke kuliah di musin gugur. Yah, memang aku bilang musim gugur… tapi aku tidak pernah bilang musim gugur ini. Aku masih mau bebas.” Terlihat jelas dari wajahnya bahwa dia suka kebebasan dan tidak suka dikekang. Sama seperti aku. “Jurusan apa?”

Dia terkejut dengan pertanyaanku. “ha?”

“Kau akan mengambil jurusan apa nantinya?” kuulangi pertanyaanku. “Pre-law. Aku mau jadi pengacara.” Katanya. Aku mengalihkan pandanganku ke lemari buku yang ada disebelah kasur itu. Lemarinya penuh. Semuanya buku perhukuman; atau setidaknya banyak diantaranya. “semua itu telah kau baca?” tanyaku polos. Aku anak berumur 16 tahun yang sedang berbicara kepada seorang tetangga yang baru kukenal selama 10 menit yang lalu didalam kamarnya sembari dia melilit kakiku dengan perban. Aku merasa di posisis yang sangat… awkward.

“Sudah. Semuanya sudah kubaca. Rak yang disebelah sana yang masi hada beberapa buku yang baru.” Katanya riang, tidak merasakan tension yang kurasakan. “Selesai.” Katanya tiba-tiba. Dia melepaskan kakiku –yang kuyakin kotor sekali- dari tangannya dan berdiri. Dia tersenyum. “Trims.” Kataku. Aku juga beranjak dari tempat duduk dan berjalan ke jendela tanpa berkata satu kata pun. Saat aku sedang melangkahi kerangka jendela miliknya, kudengar dia memanggilku, “Um, Ariadne?”

Aku berbalik menghadapnya, “Ya?”

“Akankah ku bertemu denganmu lagi besok?”

Aku tersenyum dan mengganguk; tidak bisa berkata- kata lagi. Aku melangkah keluar dan dengan hati-hati- sebisaku mejauh dari tepi atap- kearah lotengku sendiri dan menuruni tangga besi yang –untungnya tidak berkarat seperti pipa dirumah itu- kokoh dan dingin. Aku bergegas kekamarku. Senyumku tidak mengendur, aku terlalu senang. Akhirnya aku punya seorang teman.

Chapter 5.

Jamku sudah menunjukan jam 4 sore. Langit sudah berwarna jingga yang luar biasa mengaggumkan. Kukembali keatas atap hari itu untuk menemui Aiden. Kurasa ini semacam rendezvous karena kami menemui satu sama lain diatap. Tentang Aiden, aku tahu sangat sedikit; tapi aku juga merasa seakan aku sudah mengenalnya seumur hidupku. Aiden terasa sangat dekat, namun pada saat yang sama, sangat amat jauh.

Warna warni awan mengambang di langit yang akan segera menjadi gelap itu. Sesuatu putih menangkap perhatianku. Apa itu ? seekor burung ? aku memicingkan mata. Ternyata tidak, itu adalah sebuah pesawat kertas ! aku menoleh kekananku ; satu pesawat kertas terbang dari jendela tetanggaku ; dia sedang duduk di frame jendelanya, menerbangkan kapal-kapal terbang kertas. Matahari yang sedang terbenam menjadi background indah untuk momen itu. Aku berjalan kearahnya,  pelan pelan agar hal yang terjadi kemarin tidak terjadi lagi. Aku duduk disebelahnya. “Hey.” Dia memaggil, walau tatapannya tetap terkunci di kapal terbang miliknya. “Hey kepadamu juga.” Aku membalasnya. Dia tersenyum, memamerkan lesum pipi di sisi pipi kirinya yang tidak kusadari kemarin. “Ada apa dengan pesawat-pesawat ini?” aku bertanya. Disisinya, ada lusinan pesawat kertas yang menunggu giliranya terbang. “Aku sedang melepas dan meminta.” Katanya singkat.

“apakah yang kauminta itu sangat susah dikabulkan sampai harus membuat sebegini banyak pesawat?”

Dia menoleh kearahku. “Setidaknya satu permintaan sudah terkabul. Aku ada teman untuk menemaniku.”   Darah naik ke kepalaku , aku yakin mukaku sudah memerah parah sekali. Matanya yang biru sedalam lautan itu seakan menarikku agar aku tidak mengalihkan pandangan. “Aku selamat sampai disini kan?” aku tersenyum kepadanya, dia tersenyum kembali. Dia melemparkan pesawat terakhirnya keudara.

“Aku mengerti maksudmu.” Dia mengatakan kepadaku walau pandangannya tetap menerawang kedepan. “Maksudku tentang apa?”

“Kebebasan saat melepaskan semua beban. Aku bingung bagaimana si pesawat kecil itu tetap bisa terbang dengan beban seberat itu.”

Dia menitikan air mata. Aku menggengam tangannya; tidak tahu apa  yang dia rasakan, tetapi aku bisa dan mau berada disampingnya membantunya melewati segala itu; bahkan jika itu semua adalah seluruh bumi. Kami diam selama berjam-jam, hanya duduk diam disana, berpegangan tangan, berharap kita bisa member kekuatan satu sama lain.

Chapter 6.

Keesokan harinya, Aiden datang ke pintuku. “Selamat pagi tetangga!” sapanya ceria. Tanda-tanda kesedihannya sudah hilang tidak berbekas. “Mau masuk?” aku menawarkan dan dia mengganguk setuju. Aku membawanya mengelilingi rumah, menunjukan setiap inci demi inci rumahku yang baru. Dia bersiul, “Rumahmu classy sekali. Kau pasti merasa seperti seorang bangsawan.”

“Sama sekali tidak. Aku merasa lebih seperti seorang tawanan.” Aku mengerutu tidak setuju. “Kenapa?”

“Disini sepi. Tidak ada siapa-siapa selain aku; rasanya seperti diperangkap.”

“Kan kalau kau kesepian kau bisa naik keatap, mengrtuk jendelaku. “ dia menyeringai ramah. Aku tidak dapat menahan senyumku, “Kau baik sekali, tapi aku bahkan baru mengenalmu, aku tak tahu apa-apa tentangmu!”

“Kau tahu namaku Aiden, dan aku tetanggamu.”

“Aku bahkan tidak tahu nama belakangmu! Kalau papa tahu tentang ini, dia juga pasti akan bilang bahwa kau adalah seorang yang asing.” Aku mengatakan kepadanya, aku pun sebenarnya baru menyadari kejanggalan dalam persahabatan kami itu. Dia menarik tanganku, “Lihat aku.” Dia menekankan.

Aku langsung memandang kedalam matanya seakan dengan otomatis matanya menarikku. Seperti magnet. “Aku Aiden Nathaniel Mason. Aku hidup sendiri, berumur 18 tahun. Anak tunggal. Aku tidak merokok, tidak minum alcohol, tidak mengonsumsi narkoba. Ibuku dari Memphis dan ayahku dar Conway, Arkansas. Apa kau percaya padaku?” aku berdiri terpaku, masih menatap matanya. Aku memang percaya padanya; untuk suatu alasan yang aku sendiri pun tidak tahu. Anehnya, bahkan sebelum dia mulai berbicara, aku sudah percaya kepadanya.  Aku mengganguk mengiyakan. Dia tersenyum puas, “Bagus. Hanya agar impas, maukah kau memperkenalkan dirimu lagi?”

“Ah, lebih baik tidak.” Aku menggumam tidak yakin. Dia menghela nafas, “Kau begitu tidak percaya padaku?” wajahnya menunjukan ekspresi kekecewaan yang mendalam. Aku merasa tercabik-cabik, aku tidak mau mengecewakannya. “Um, aku Ariadne Havens. Aku hidup bersama Papa, umurku 16 tahun. Aku tidak merokok, minum alcohol maupun mengonsumsi narkoba. Aku telah hidup di Memphis seumur hidupku,  aku dilahirkan disini. Mamaku sudah tiada, dia mengorbankan hidupnya untukku. “ suaraku pasti terdengar pecah diakhir kalimatku, aku mrasa ingin menangis. Bisakah kau sungguh menyayangi orang yang kau belum pernah bertemu sekalipun? Mama adalah satu bagian hidupku yang tidak akan pernah bisa kurasakan.

“Menangislah” kudengar suara Aiden memecah keheningan yang seakan mencekikku. “Kau akan merasa lebih baik jika kau mengeluarkannya. Ayo, menangis sajalah” aku merunduk dan berlutut, kedua tanganku menutupi wajahku, air mataku tidak mau berhenti mengalir. Tanganku bergetar hebat.Aiden ikut berlutut denganku dan memelukku. “Tidak apa, dia pasti bangga akanmu.” Dia berbisik kepadaku. Suaranya menenangkan, seperti saat dia menarikku dari ambang kematian di atap. Dia menuntunku kembali ke sofa leather di ruang tamu dia membelai rambutku pelan dan halus, berbisik kepadaku bahwa mama pasti bangga dan dia ada mengawasiku. Tangisanku tidak berhenti, dia tetaap disampingku; berkeras untuk tidak meninggalkanku sendiri disana menangis sepuas hatiku.

Beberapa lama kemudian setelah tangisanku sudah reda, dia masih disebelahku. Mataku bengkak dan sayu, aku memandangnya dengan rasa terima kasih luar biasa. Kelegaanku kali ini berbeda dengan saat saat lain aku menerbangkan pesawat. Kali ini aku merasa lepas dan bebas tanpa batas. Aiden Mason telah mendadi pesawat kertasku.

Chapter 7.

Sudah tiga bulan lamanya aku telah mengenal Aiden. Papa sudah mengenalnya juga.
Menurut papa dia orang yang baik dan karismatik.  Aku juga sudah tahu lebih banyak tentang hidup pribadinya yang menyedihkan; lima bulan yang lalu, Aiden mendapat telepon dari Conway. Telpon itu dari papanya. Katanya di telpon bahwa mamanya mengugat cerai dan semuanya sudah beres dan diatur. Dia ditanya papanya apakah ada sesuatu yang dia ingin sampaikan, tapi Aiden tidak berkata apa-apa. Dan perceraian itu pun terlaksana.

Sebuah berita berat lainnya adalah bahwa dua bulan setelah perceraian, ayahnya diperiksa dan ternyata mengidap kanker paru-paru. Aiden tidak bisa melakukan apa apa seperti biasa. Aiden sekarang sudah bisa melewati hari harinya seprti biasa, tapi aku menyadari bahwa ada kesedihan yang menganjal berat dijiwanya. Dia mengaku dirinya baik-baik saja, tapi aku tidak yakin.

Musim panas sudah hampir berakhir, begitu juga liburanku. Aiden masih berkeliaran bebas seperti selalu dan aku sebentar lagi akan terperangkap dalam kelas dibelakang mejaku. Ugh.
Aiden bilang padaku bahwa segalanya akan terus  berlanjut seakan aku masih libur, tapi sulit mempercayainya saat dia sendiri tidak berada disana. Aku tidak menunggu sekolah seperti sebelum aku mengenal Aiden, aku telah menyadari hidup dibalik tembok-tembok yang memenjarai anak-anak selama 8 jam sehari.

Selama liburanku, aku hanya manghabiskannya duduk-duduk diatap saat senja dan subuh. Selain itu kami akan berbagi kisah hidup kami masing-masing dan sesekali bermain scrabble atau catur. Walau kedengarannya membosankan, kalau kau bersama seseorang yang semenyenangkan Aiden, waktu akan benar-benar terbang. Pada hari terakhir liburanku, Aiden bertanya, “Apa yang akan terjadi jika kau pindah lagi?”

Aku mengangkat bahu, “Aku kan baru pindah beberapa bulan yang lalu.”

“Maksudku secara skenario. Apa yang kira-kira akan terjadi?”

“Pertanyaan sesungguhnya adalah apa yang akan terjadi padamu. aku akan menangis dan menangis lebih banyak lagi. Dan aku pasti akan berkunjung sesering mungkin. Bagaimana denganmu?”

“Aku mungkin akan kembali kebawah batuku dimana tidak ada lagi tetangga perempuan baruku yang akan datang, menjadi teman terbaikku dan menghancurkan hatiku saat dia pergi.” Dia berkata saking santainya kalimatnya yang tadi dikatakannya nampak gampang.

“Bagaimana jika kau yang pergi?”

“Itu tidak akan terjadi. Aku umur 18 tahun. Tidak ada lagi hal semacam hak asuh. Aku sudah hidup hampir setahun tanpa orang tuaku, aku sanggup untuk begini selamanya.”

“Apakah itu benar?”

Dia mengganguk dan tersenyum yakin. Aku tidak pernah mempertanyakannya lagi.

Chapter 8.

Hari pertama sekolah membosankan seperti menonton cat mengering. Guru-guru mengoceh seperti tiada hari esok sedangkan murid-murid berselonjoran dikursi mereka masing-masing dan mengobrol. “The summer fever is still in the air.” Gumamku dalam hati. Memang benar, Rasanya liburan musim panas terlalu cepat berakhirnya tahun ini. Saat makan siang, murid-murid lainnya berjalan dikoridor, menyeret nyeret diri mereka sendiri kemana mana seperti seonggok daging tidak bernyawa. Aku rasa aku pun sedikit menyeret bobotku. Sekolah tidak tertahankan. Membosankan. Aku mencoba sebisaku untuk tetap bernafas didalam tempat yang disebut institusi itu.

Pada saat sekolah bubar, mataku yang telah melorot seharian merasa segar kembali. Kulemparkan tasku kebelakang sebelah pundakku dan bergegas keluar kelas. Tepat disebelah pagar putih tinggi sekolahku, Aiden sedang bersandar di sebuah motor, sebuah buku tebal berwarna kuning ditangannya. Dia sedang membaca. Aku berjalan mendekatinya, tapi tidak memanggilnya. Dia terlalu serius untuk kuganggu. Saat aku sudah dekat, dia tiba-tiba mendongkak dan melihatku, “Hey.” panggilnya. Dia menutup buka yang sebesar yellow pages itu dan memasukannya kebawah jok motor. Oh, itu motornya.

“Hey.” Balasku. “Jadi ini sekolah mu?”`

“Ya, dan ini motormu?” dia mengganguk tenang. Dia menaiki motornya dan menyalakannya. Lalu dia diam dan menoleh kearahku, “Apakah kau akan naik?”

Mataku terbelalak mendengarnya, “Kau serius?” dia mengangkat bahunya, “kenapa tidak?”

Aku mengigit bibir, aku belum pernah mengendarai motor sebelumnya. Naik sepeda aku bisa, tapi motor adalah sesuatu yang berbeda sama sekali. “Aku belum pernah naik motor.” Aku mengakui kepada Aiden. Dia tersenyum, “there’s a first for everything.” Katanya ceria. Aku setengah tersenyum dan menaiki motornya. Suara meraung motornya memulai perjalanan kita sebelum akhirnya motor itu melesat dalam kecepatan.

“Kemana kita?” aku bertanya. “kau harus menunggu dan melihat,” Dia berkata, “pegangan yang erat.” Dan motornya meraung sekali lagi sebelum mempercepat.

Sekitar sepuluh menit kemudian kami sampai ke sebuah golf club yang megah. Dia memarkir motornya dibelakang dan mengiringku ke pintu. “Apa yang akan kita lakukan disini?” aku menarik tangannya. Dia tersenyum tapi tetap berjalan. Di depan meja resepsionis dia tersenyum dan menitipkan kunci motornya tanpa berkata apa-apa. Aku mulai bingung lagi. Beberapa detik setelah itu seorang caddy datang kepada kami, dia tidak membawa tongkat golf atau apapun, dia hanya menuntun kami ke sebuah golf cart dan menyerahkan kuncinya kepada Aiden. Aiden berterimakasih lalu menaiki golf cart tersebut. “Ayolah,” katanya yang menyadariku masih berdiri diluar, “Apakah aku harus menyeretmu masuk?”

Aku tersenyum dan menaiki golf cart tersebut. Wow. Dua kendaraan yang belum pernah kunaiki telah kuniaki hari ini, apa lagi? Apakah nanti kami akan naik perahu jet? Suspense itu seperti membunuhku, tapi aku menikmatinya. Entah mengapa.

Tidak, Aiden tidak mengajakku menaiki perahu jet. Dia membawaku ke bagian taman yang agak jauh, dekat dengan telaga indah disana. Ada sebuah meja taman kecil, dua kursi disisinya. Sebuah lilin diatasnya dan alat makan juga. Dia memberhentikan golf cart nya dan turun. Dia juga menuntunku kemeja itu layaknya seorang gentleman. Dan layaknya seorang gentleman juga, dia menarikan kursi untukku duduk, mempersilahkan aku duduk, kemudian dia baru duduk dikursinya sendiri. “Maaf musiknya tidak bisa disiarkan sampai sejauh ini, jadi…” dia menarik ponselnya keluar dan memainkan lagu ‘I don’t wanna miss a thing’ Aku tertawa dibuatnya. “Wow, terima kasih untuk ini semua. Lagipula bagaimana kau mengatur ini semua?”

Dia mengangkat bahunya, “ayahku memiliki separuh dari business ini.” Katanya riang. “Ah.” Aku memaklumi, mengingat betapa besar kamar dan rumahnya. Seorang pelayan-aku menebak bahwa itu adalah seorang caddy yang berbusana pelayan- datang dan menyajikan sup asparagus. Aku mengangkat sebelah alis kepada Aiden. Dia setengah tersenyum, “diujung sana ada sebuah restaurant khusus untuk member club ini.” Jelasnya. Pantas saja semua ini mungkin. Tapi ini tetap saja luar biasa. “Ini luar biasa, Aid. Thanks. Dalam rangka apa?”

Dia nyengir, lalu eksperisnya berubah serius. “aku sayang padamu, Aria. Will you be my girl?” aku tidak bisa berkata apa- apa kepadanya. Mulutku kering seperti gurun sahara. (Well, tidak sampai seperti itu, tapi kau mendapat maksudku kan?) “Aria? Kau tak apa-apa?” dia menatapku. Aku mengupayakan berkata, “Aku tak apa-apa.”
dia tersenyum lega. “So?” dia bertanya lagi. Ujung bibirku tertarik sedikit, aku mengangguk. Dialah yang telah mengisi hari-hariku, dia yang mewarnai hidupku, dia mendengarkanku. Dia membuatku bahagia. Itu sudah cukup untukku. Dia beranjak dari duduknya dan datang kearahku. Dia merunduk dekat dan mengecup dahiku. Lalu dian memelukku ditemani dengan lagu ‘always be my baby’ yang mengalun indah. Saat itu tidak terlupakan.

Chapter 9.

“Kau sudah pernah masuk kesini beratus-ratus kali, kenapa setiap kali gugup seperti itu?” Aiden bertanya kepadaku saat kami berdiri didepan pintu rumahnya. “Kau tahu itu tidak benar, aku baru pernah kesini 8 kali.” Aku meralatnya. Sebenarnya, bahkan masuk kerumahku sendiri saja sudah gugup; rumah besar memberi kesan ‘properti orang penting dan kaya’ dan aku yakin sku tidak masuk kualifikasi kaya maupun penting. Mungkin papa kaya, tapi tanpa dia, aku akan melarat dijalan detik itu juga.

“Sama saja kan intinya. Kau kesini sudah 8 kali, mengapa harus sebegitu gugup?”

“Um, aku tak tahu. Sudahlah, kita masuk saja.” Aku berusaha menutupi kekhawatiranku yang menumpuk. Aku mendapat perasaan yang sungguh tidak enak tentang ini. Aiden menutar bola matanya dan memutar kuncinya juga. Lalu membuka pintu.

“Aiden sayang,”

Seorang wanita beranjak dari sofa Aiden. Dia memakai pakaian hitam dari leher kebawah. Dia cantik. Rambutnya pirang,  matanya hjau besar, wajahnya bundar. Aku menatap Aiden bingung. Aiden tampak kaget. “Mama?”

Ibu Aiden berjalan kearah kami, wajahnya panik. “Aiden sayang. Warren… Warren…” Air matanya mengalir dengan tiba-tiba, tidak ada tanda-tanda. Dia menangis. Aiden memeluknya. “Papa kenapa?”

“Warren meninggal. Karena kankernya. Tadi pagi.” Suara mama Aiden seperti tertahan. Seperti mencoba menahan kesedihannya. “Tenang ma…” Bisik Aiden walau dia sendiri telah menitikan air mata. Aku merasa terasingkan. Dua orang dihadapanku baru saja kehilangan seseorang yang sangat berarti bagi mereka. Dan aku, aku bahkan tidak mengenal papa Aiden.

“Aku akan meninggalkan kalian berdua.” Bisikku saat aku menyelinap keluar.

Pemakaman Warren Mason dilaksanankan sore itu. Aku diundang oleh Aiden, tapi aku menolak. Aku tidak bisa mendatangi pemakaman seseorang yang tidak kukenal dan diharapkan untuk bersedih disana. Tidak, aku tidak mampu.

Dan malam itu, Aiden tidak pulang.

Besok paginya, aku mendapat telfon dari Aiden. “Halo?”

“Hey Ariadne. Ini Aiden.”

“Aiden! Apakah kau gila? Dimana kamu?”

“Aria, Tenang. Aku tak apa. Dengar…”

“Aiden, aku sudah menghawatirkanmu semalaman, dimana kau?”

Aiden nampaknya bisa mendengar kekhawatiranku. “Aku baik-baik saja, Aria. Aku sekarang ada di  Stanford.”

“Stanford!” pekikku.

“Ariadne Havens. Dengarkan aku. Ayahku meninggal, dia telah menulis terakhirnya bagi kami. Permintaan terakhirnya adalah agar aku kuliah tahun ini. Dan sekarang, aku sudah diterima Stanford law. Aku tidak akan pulang, Ariadne. I’m sorry.” Aku seakan merasa ditampar,Aiden akan meninggalkanku sendiri lagi. Kata-kata bahkan sudah tidak bisa keluar lagi. “Aiden…”

“Bye Ariadne.”

Chapter 10.

“Honey, ayo makan.” Papa mencoba membujukku makan. Sudah seminggu sejak rumah disebelahku kosong. Aku merasa sebentar lagi akan ada palang ‘DIJUAL’ didepan pintunya. “Aku tidak lapar,” Memang itu benar, aku memang tidak lapar. Aku akan makan saat aku lapar nanti. “Aku akan makan nanti.” Aku berkata tanpa melepas mataku dari layar laptopku. “Ya sudah. Papa berangkat sekarang.”

“Hati-hati dijalan pa.” gumamku. Pintu kamarku pun ditutup rapat. Aku tak bisa melakukan apa apa; makan, minum, tidur… hidup saja susah. Aiden bagaikan udara bagiku. Itulah alasan lagu ‘no air’ Chris Brown dan Jordan Sparks terus berkumandang dikamarku. Aku hampir setiap hari naik keatap, berharap suatu keajaiban datang, bahwa Aiden akan ada disana. Tapi sebenarnya aku tahu itu semua hanyalah khayalan. Aiden tidak ada disana.

Mungkin untuk selamanya.

Aku bahkan sadar akan itu, tapi pagi itu, aku tetap saja berharap, tetap saja ingin naik keatas sana. Aku keluar dari kamarku menuju tangga besi. Aku memanjatnya seperti biasanya. Tangga itu sudah agak lapuk dan berkarat, pasti karena atap yang bocor beberapa hari ini. Air pasti menetes ke tangga itu. Tangga itu sebenarnya agak tinggi, sekitar dua setengah meter. Orang yang takut ketinggian takan pernah berani memanjatnya.

Matahari terang pagi itu. Cuacanya nyaman, tapi aku tidak merasa demikian. Tidak ada Aiden. Jiwaku terasa kosong. Hampa. Kurasa tidak ada yang akan kulakukan diatap lagi, jadi setelah sepuluh menit singkat diatas sana, aku turun dengan cara yang sama aku naik. Lewat tangga besi. Aku memapakan kaki pelan-pelan ditangga, berhati-hati agar tidak tergelincir. Setelah beberapa langkah, nampaknya tangga itu karatnya sudah sangat parah dan tidak bisa menahan beratku lagi, besi yang kupijak… patah.

Aku menutup mata dan menahan nafas.

…

Chapter 11.

Suara-suara membangunkanku. Suara ‘bip’ yang agak menyebalkan, suara seorang pria yang sepertinya berbicara denganku, memohon agar aku membuka mataku, dan suara air dituang. Beberapa saat berlalu sebelum aku dapat membuka mataku. Dan saat itu terjadi, pria tadi bersorak bahagia, “Dia siuman! Dia siuman!” pintu pun terbuka tidak lama setelah itu. Seorang pria lagi masuk ditemani seorang wanita. Mereka berdua berpakaian serba putih, yang perempuan membawa sebuah clipboard. “Bagaimana perasaanmu?” Tanya yang perempuan. “kepala ku masih sedikit nyeri, tapi aku tak apa-apa.dimana aku?

“Kau dirumah sakit, sayang.” Lelaki yang pertama berkata. Aku baru menyadari – lebih mirip mengingat- bahwa dia adalah papaku. Kita ada di rumah sakit, berarti dua orang lainya adalah dokter dan perawat. Masuk akal.

“Papa? Itu benar kau kan?” tanyaku, masih kebingungan. “Iya ini aku, Ariadne.”

“Siapa Ariadne?” aku bertanya lagi, makin bingung. “Itu namamu, tidakkah kau ingat?” papa terdengar prihatin. Aku menggeleng.aku pun sadar bahwa aku tidak tahu namaku sendiri. Papa memanggilku Ariadne, jadi itu pasti namaku, kan?

“Dok, kau Papa memanggilku Ariadne, jadi itu pasti namaku, kan?

“Dok, kau yakin dia tidak apa-apa? Dia tidak mengingat namanya sendiri tapi mengingatku. Apakah itu normal?” papa bertanya pada sang dokter. “menurut data, dia tidak mengalami kerusakan otak sama sekali, otaknya berkerja dengan hebat, semuanya berfungsi. Dia tidak apa-apa. Tapi dia mungkin mengalami hypokondria. Dia tidak mengingat karena dia tidak ingin mengingat. Jadi hal yang dia lupakan adalah hal yang tidak ingin dia ingat. Semua ingatannya akan kembali seiring waktu.”

“Oh, begitu. Terima kasih dokter.” Papa berkata lagi, dokter dan perawat pun keluar. Papa duduk disebelah ranjang yang kutiduri, tangannya menggengam tanganku, “Pelan-pelan saja sayang, tidak perlu mengingat semuanya sekarang. Yang perlu kau tahu hanyalah bahwa kau aman disini bersamaku. Oh ya, dan namamu Ariadne Havens.”

Aku mengganguk. Tak ada yang bisa kulakukan kecuali mempercayai papa. Tapi apakah semua itu yang dikatakan dokter benar? Bahwa aku tidak ingat hal-hal yang tidak ingin kuingat? Kalau begitu kenapa aku melupakan namaku sendiri?

Aku menghela nafas. Percaya sajalah, tak ada alasan untuk membohongiku juga. Aku bersandar di ranjang itu. Mengamati orang-orang berlalu lalang disisi seberang kaca didepanku. Seorang lelaki menarik perhatianku, mengapa? Aku tak begitu tahu. Mungkin karena dia sedang berlari dengan nafas terengah-engah kearah kamarku. Dia terhenti sebentar  didepan kaca diseberangku, menatapku, lega bercampur gelisah dan sedikit… bersalah?

Dia akhirnya masuk kedalam kamarku. Papa langsung beranjak begitu dia masuk, “Aiden.” Panggil papa. “Paman,” jawab yang pemuda itu, “Bagaimana keadaan Ariadne?”

“Dia akan baik-baik saja.” Kata papa, berusaha tersenyum. Lelaki yang dipanggil Aiden itu menghadapku. “Aria, kau tidak apa-apa?”

Aku menatap wajahnya, dia terlihat sangat lega seakan akan dokter baru saja berkata padanya bahwa dunia tidak jadi kiamat hari itu. “Kau… siapa?” tanyaku ragu, aku tidak tahu apakah itu adalah hal yang harus kutanyakan kepadanya. Raut wajahnya berubah, lalu dia menatap papa bingung. “Kata dokter dia mengalami hypokondria, dia melupakan hal yang tidak ingin dia ingat, dan sayangnya, mungkin kau salah satu dari hal itu,” Jawab papa akan pertanyaan tidak terdengar dari laki-laki itu, “Dia bahkan melupakan namanya sendiri.” Papa menggeleng sedih. “Kau tidak ingat padaku, Aria? Ini aku Aiden.” Aiden bertanya padaku. “Tidak. Maaf.”

Wajahnya sekarang dipenuhi kesakitan, seakan dia menanggung semua berat dunia. “Tapi kata dokter ingatanku akan kembali seiring waktu.” Bahkan itu tidak membantu, kesakitan itu diselingingi oleh kesedihan. Dia keluar dari kamar itu. Dan berlalu. Aku tidak tahu dia kemana, tapi aku merasa dia telah membawa sebagian diriku dengannya.

Chapter 12.

Aku tidak tahu berapa lama lagi aku akan tetap berada di ruang rumah sakit itu. Aku harus tahan dengan suara ‘bip’ dari mesin disebelah ranjang saat aku ingin tidur, dengan suster cerewet yang mengajakku mengobrol tentang hal yang -kadang-kadang- aku tidak suka, dan terus menerus mengeluh tentang perkerjaannya. Lalu, ada Aiden. Dia datang setiap hari, kadang kadang dia membawa benda-benda yang menurutnya aku kenal. Tapi aku tidak bisa mengingat satu benda pun. Sampai seuatu hari, dia membawa sebuah pesawat kertas.

“Kau ingat ini?” dia mengacungkannya keatas. Aku mengganguk. Benar, aku pasti mengingatnya, tidak mungkin aku lupa akan itu. Penerbang kecilku yang menakjubkan. “Apa yang kauingat tentang ini?” tanyanya, aku melihat secercah harapan di matanya. “aku menulis berbagai hal disana dan menerbangkannya.” Jawabku jujur.

“Dimana kau biasa menerbangkannya?”

“Hmm. Di teras?” aku menjawab, sekarang sedikit kurang yakin. Harapan dimatanya menguap. Seperti seseorang yang divonis mati keesokan harinya, sorot mata Aiden seperti menyerah.

Dan bahkan aku tidak bisa menyalahkannya.

Seorang wanita muncul dari balik pintuku, dia bukan wanita yang biasanya datang. Dia memakai selembar blazer hitam dan rok pensil hitam. Rambut pirangnya digulung dibelakang kepalanya. Mata hijaunya pertama memandangku seperti sedang menghakimiku. Dia mengubah arah pandangannya ke Aiden. “Aiden sayang, kenapa kau ada disini?” Tanya wanita itu dengan kesabaran yang dibuat-buat.
“Tidakkah mama lihat Ariadne? Dia sedang sakit.”  Sang ‘mama’ menatapku kesal lalu kembali berkata kepada Aiden. “Aku yakin Ms. Havens disini bisa menjaga dirinya sendiri. Ayo, taksi sudah menunggu.”

“Aku tidak akan meninggalkan Ariadne sendiri pada saat ini. Pada saat dimana dia paling membutuhkan!” Aiden membentak defensif. Mamanya tersentak kaget. Dia berkata dengan geram, “Bagaimana dengan permintaan terakhir papamu?”

“Papa sudah tiada, ma! Ariadne masih disini dan dia membutuhkanku.”

Kepalaku mulai berputar. Permintaan papa Aiden? Mama Aiden yang sedang berdiri didepanku… nafasku memberat, udara seakan berubah berat dan mencekikku. Kepalaku terasa berat dan vertigo menyerang.

Aku mual.

Aku menyadari bahwa suara kedua orang lain didalam kamar itu sudah berhenti berbicara. Suara panik Aiden memecah kesunyian, “Aria? Ada apa? Aria?” aku mencoba menahan nafas dan menenangkan kepalaku. Aku ingin menjerit, tapi keinginan itu kutahan sebisaku. Kepalaku tersa berputar, tetap saja gambar-gambar berputar dalam kepalaku. Wanita itu didalam pelukan Aiden, sedang menangis. Aku tetap tidak bisa mengingat lebih banyak dari itu. Semua ingatanku kabur.

Semuanya kabur.

Saat aku membuka mata, Aiden sudah tidak ada.
tapi sebagai ganti, papa ada disebelahku. Menggengam tanganku dengan erat, menyenandungkan lagu nina bobo masa kecilku. “Kau sudah bangun.” Sapanya. Aku tersenyum lalu mengangkat badanku dan menyenderkan punggungku di bantal yang juga sedang bersandar di frame besi kasur. “Sudah berapa lama aku tidur?”

“Sekitar empat jam.”

Papa menatapku dengan seksama. “Oh, Aiden tadi sudah pulang. Dia pergi bersama mamanya.” Papa memberitahuku. “Oh.” Jawabku. Aku bahkan tidak mau bertanya lagi. Entah kenapa dalam hatiku aku sudah merasa bahwa dia akan pulang bersama mamanya. Entah dari mana aku tahu. “Kau lapar?”

Aku mengganguk. Senampan makanan sudah tersedia. Sepiring spaghetti dan semangkuk cream soup. Aku memakan makananku dengan sangat pelan, merasakan setiap gigitan. Tak banyak untuk dirasakan karena spaghetti dingin itu terasa seperti plastik.

Kuletakan piring itu di nampan dan menyerahkannya ke papa. “Pa?”

“Iya sayang?”
“Bukankah papa harus bekerja besok?” papa tersenyum dengan pengertian. “Tenang saja, Aria. Papa tidak akan meninggalkanku.”

“Bukan itu, pa. sebaiknya papa pulang dan tidur agar besok bisa bekerja. Aku akan baik-baik saja. Lagipula besok malam aku sudah boleh pulang kan?” aku memajang senyumku yang paling hebat. Dia mengganguk setuju. “Kalau begitu papa pulang dulu ya sayang.” Dia mengecup keningku dan melangkah keluar.

Walau sepi, tempat itu tidak seburuk yang selama ini kupikirkan. Bau antiseptic yang melayang di udara tidak begitu buruk kalau sudah terbiasa. Aku menutup mataku.

Bunyi pintuku terbuka. Aku tetap tidak membuka mataku. Kalau aku pura-pura tidur, papa akan pulang dengan tenang. Aku mencoba untuk menjaga nafasku agar Nampak seperti seseorang yang tertidur.

Aku merasa belaian di kepalaku, dan kecupan di dahiku. Lalu beberapa detik berlalu sebelum pintu akhirnya dibuka lagi. Dan saat itu, aku pun membuka mata dan melihatnya melewati kaca didepanku. Dia bukan papa.

Itu Aiden.

Chapter 13.

“Papa tenang saja, aku akan baik-baik saja. Hari ini aku akan masuk sekolah ya?”

“Lebih baik jangan dulu, Aria. Tidakkah lebih baik jika kau menunggu ingatanmu kembali sepenuhnya?” papa memandangku khawatir. Akhirnya dia menghela nafas, “Baiklah. Siapa yang akan mengantarmu?”

“Aku akan jalan kaki seperti biasa pa.” jawabku. Yakinkah bahwa aku yang lupa ingatan bukan papa?

“Oh tidak! Tentu saja tidak! Papa akan minta Aiden mengantarmu.” Papa berkata dengan suara melantang. Dia jelas menentangku jalan ke sekolah. Sepertinya aku tahu kenapa. Kemarin malam saja aku lupa jalan kekamar; aku bahkan lupa bahwa kita sudah pindah rumah! Pantaslah dia tidak menerima ideku itu. “Tak usah lah pa, Aiden pasti sibuk. Lagipula, apakah Aiden bahkan tahu dimana kita tinggal?”

“Dia tetangga kita, Ariadne. Mungkin memang sebaiknya kau libur hari ini. Sudahlah, setidaknya libur sampai hari senin depan. Hari ini kan jumaat. Pasti tak apa. Gurumu pasti maklum.”

Aku tak bisa menolaknya. Dia terlalu khawatir. Mungkin seharian ini jika aku sekolah papa tidak akan bisa tenang. “Sudahlah. Aku tak akan ke sekolah hari ini. Papa pergi saja. Aku akan baik-baik saja.”

“mungkin sebaiknya kau ke rumah Aiden hari ini. Agar ada yang bisa kau minta tolong.”

Sekali lagi aku tidak bisa menolak. Jadi kuturuti saja. Dua puluh menit kemudian aku menemukan diriku menekan bel rumah Aiden.

Aiden sendiri yang membuka pintu. Wajahnya terlihat lelah, rambutnya berantakan, matanya menyipit seakan memblokir matahari dari pandangannya. “Ariadne? Ada yang bisa kubantu?” tanyanya. Tangannya menyapu rambutnya dengan sebelah tangan untuk membereskannya sedikit. “Um. Uh…” lidahku kelu. Aku bingung bagaimana menyampaikannya. Aiden masih dengan sabar menunggu. “Maaf menggangu. Papa pergi kerja dan dia khawatir meninggalkanku sendiri. Jadi dia menitipkanku disini. Tapi aku tidak mau menganggumu. Sepertinya kau masih lelah. Aku akan pulang saja.” Aku berbicara dengan terburu-buru.

“Hey, Aria. Tenang saja. Masuklah. Aku lelah sekali, jadi kalau kau tidak keberatan aku ingin kembali tidur. Kalau kau mau berisitirahat ada satu kamar tamu disini. Pakai saja. Okay?” Aiden menuntunku ke sebuah pintu. Itu adalah kamar tamu yang diksudkannya.  Dia melambai dan naik keatas, menghilang sebegitu dia telah menaiki anak-anak tangganya. Aku memperhatikan sekelilingku sebelum memasuki kamar tersebut. Beberapa hal terasa familiar dan beberapa lagi tidak. Sofa besarnya, kitchen counter dengan warna pastel. Sofanya familiar, begitu pula kitchen counternya. Tapi beberapa hal terasa misplaced. Meja kopi didekat sofa misalnya, aku punya perasaan bahwa meja kopi itu tidak seharusnya berada disana. Sebuah pigura foto keluarga yang tidak familiar terpajang diatas meja kopi itu. Wanita kemarin dengan rambut pirang dan mata hijau besar. Dia sedang tersenyum. Disebelahnya ada Aiden, bibirnya tersenyum, tapi matanya menunjukan ketidakbahagiaan.  Dan merangkul bahu Aiden, seorang pria setengah baya berdiri. Dia tersenyum ceria; rasanya dialah yang memberi foto itu sentuhan bahagia. Tapi melihat foto, aku merasa sebuah kehilangan yang tidak berdasar. Mengapa?
Sudahlah, aku masih sedikit ngantuk, mungkin sebaiknya aku tidur sebentar. Akhirnya aku memasuki kamar tamu dan membaringkan diriku sendiri, mununggu dunia meleleh dalam pikiranku.

Sudah tiga jam aku berbaring diatas kasur yang kurasa tidak pernah ditiduri siapa-siapa. Beberapa ingatan kemabali kepadaku. Seperi saat Aiden berkunjung kerumah, saat dia bercerita tentang perceraian orang tuanya, tentang kepindahanku kesana. Tapi karena aku sudah lumayan bosan hanya menatap langit-langit kamar dan sesekali mengecek jam tanganku. Akhirnya aku memutuskan untuk keluar dan mungkin duduk-duduk diruang tamu, menunggu Aiden. Saat pintu kubuka, aroma kopi yang kental dan wangi telur masuk. Aku melangkah keluar dan mendapati Aiden sudah rapih dan sedang memakan sarapan. “Hey,” panggilnya. Aku menghampirinya dan duduk diseberangnya. Dia menawarkanku telur, tapi aku menolak. Dia melanjutkan santapannya untuk beberapa saat sebelum dia mendongkak menghadapku. Dia mendorong piringnya kearahku, “Tak enak makan sendiri.” Dia tersenyum sebelum akhirnya menyodorkanku sebuah garpu. Aku menerimanya dan ikut makan sesuap dua suap. Lalu aku sudah kenyang. Aku kemudian pindah ke sofa dan duduk diam disana. Setelah Aiden selesai mencuci piring, dia menyusul. Keheningan menyapu. Kami berdua tidak berkata-kata, mungkin karena tidak ada yang bisa dibicarakan. Akhirnya dia beranjak dan menaiki tangga, tapi setengah jalan, dia berhenti. “Kau tidak ikut?” dia bertanya. Aku menatapnya heran, tetapi mengikutinya menaiki tangga. Hanya ada satu pintu dilantai dua. Dia mengundangku masuk. Kamar itu bagus sekali, furnishingnya elegan dan kreatif. Untuk suatu alasan yang ganjal seperti tadi, aku merasa barang-barang sudah dipindah-pindah. Lemari bukunya terasa kosong, sofanya diletakan tanpa simetri, meja belajar terasa kosong, begitu pula compartment CD dibawah TV. Ada sentuhan yang hilang. Aku terdorong untuk bertanya, “bukankah sofamu semestinya disana?” kutunjuk belakang meja, bagian yang disekelilingi sound system. Dia menatapku kaget, “Iya memang tadinya disana. Kau ingat?”

“Sedikit. Kebanyakan berdasarkan feeling. Aku merasa mengenal ruangan yang ini.” Dia setengah tersenyum, aku yakin rasa kecewa terselip di senyumannya itu.
“Lalu kenapa dipindah?” aku bertanya tentang sofa tadi. “Oh, itu. Aku membawanya saat aku pindah, tapi saat aku kembali aku juga membawanya kembali. Aku suka sofa itu.” Dia menjawabku. Aku sedikit puas dengan jawabannya walau aku tidak yakin kemana dia pindah. Aku berjalan menuju meja belajar untuk melihat-lihat buku-buku yang tertumpuk diatas meja. Ada 4 buku, semua tentang hukum. Ada sebuah selipan berwarna kuning. Kutarik karton itu.

STANFORD LAW.

Nama itu tertera besar dan jelas dicovernya. Aku menahan nafas sejenak, mencoba mengingat apa hubungan sekolah terkenal itu dengan diriku. Kenapa nama sekolah itu benar-benar menghantuiku?
“Aiden?” aku memanggilnya. Dia menghampiriku. “Ada apa?”  tanggapnya.

“Apakah Stanford law ada hubungannya denganku?”

“Tidak setahuku. Mengapa kau bertanya?’

“Aku merasa sebuah koneksi akan sekolah ini denganku. Apakah tidak ada hubungan sama sekali? Mungkin saudaraku bersekolah disana? Atau mungkin lewat dirimu?”

Dia terkejut mendengarku. Dia juga pasti menyadari sebuah koneksi diantara sekolah itu dengan dirinya atau dengan aku. Aku hanya berharap dia mau memberitahuku.

“Aiden? Ayolah, aku yakin ini penting.” Aku mencoba membujuk Aiden yang nampak enggan memberitahuku. Dia memalingkan wajah, dia seperti bertempur dengan keinginannya sendiri dan keinginanku. Akhirnya dia menghela nafas, “Aku pindah ke Stanford beberapa minggu yang lalu. Tapi aku berhenti dan kembali kesini lagi.”

Aku menatapnya. “Kenapa kau kembali?”

Raut mukanya keruh seperti sedang disakiti. “Karena kau mengalami kecelakaan itu.”
Kecelakaan itu? Kecelakaanku? Aku menutup kedua mataku untuk mencoba mengingat. Tangga besi itu. Aku mulai ingat saat aku menuruni tangga besi yang karatan itu. “Ah!” aku berkata. Aiden menatapku kebingungan.semuanya masih kabur di ingatanku. “Kau mengorbankan Stanford law untukku. Karena aku jatuh dari tangga. Kenapa? Dan kenapa aku tidak ingat padamu?”

Wajahnya berubah sedih, lalu dia menatapku, “karena kau Ariadneku.” dia mendekat, mencium dahiku dan memelukku. Air mataku mengalir, dan aku tidak tahu mengapa. Ruangan seakan berputar dan aku mual, tapi saat itu aku tidak terlalu menghiraukannya. Itu sampai nafasku berubah berat dan kepalaku berputar dengan lebih ganas. Aku tidak tahan lagi.

Setelah itu, segalanya berubah gelap.

Chapter 14.

“Dokter, dia sadar!” sorak papa. Tangannya menggengam tanganku erat.

Ah, aku dirumah sakit lagi. Apa yang salah denganku?

“Pa?”

“Iya sayang?”

“Aku kenapa lagi?” papa tersenyum mendengarku. “Kau demam tinggi sekali tadi dirumah Aiden.”

Oh! Aku ingat vertigo itu. “baguslah kau sudah sadar. Tadi saat kau tidak sadar kau seperti menggumamkan, ‘kenapa pergi?’ berkali-kali. Papa merasa bersalah. Semestinya papa tidak kerja hari ini.” Papa menghela nafas. “Sudahlah, pa,” Aku menjawabnya, “Bukan salah papa. Oh, aku harus minta maaf pada Aiden.” Aku mencoba bangkit dari kasur putih itu tapi papa tidak membiarkanku. “Dia akan segera kembali. Dia hanya keluar membeli minum untuk papa.”

Aku menghela nafas. Akhirnya aku menyusahkan banyak orang. Semestinya tidak harus begitu.

Papa benar, 10 menit kemudian Aiden masuk membawa sekantung munuman dingin. Begitu dia menyadari aku sudah sadar, wajahnya terlihat lega sekali. “Aria, sudah lebih baik?”

“sudah. Terima kasih.” Aku mencoba tersenyum. Aku tahu dia khawatir. Aku sadar akan itu sepenuhnya. Dan aku sudah bisa mengingat sebagian besar akan hidupku yang hilang. Aku tetangga Aiden yang bertemu dengannya-aku tidak ingat bagaimana- dan telah membuat Aiden matahari baruku. Tetapi akhirnya matahari itu terbenam dan aku berpikir bahwa matahari itu tidakakan pernah terbit lagi. Aku hampir benar. Hampir.

Mataharinya terbit lagi karena si bulan jatuh. Aku jatuh, dan Aiden kembali. Aku tahu aku akan terdengar sangat bodoh jika aku akan menanyakan kepadanya bagaimana kami bertemu; tapi akiu rasa aku harus tahu. Itu mungkin satu potong puzzle terakhir yang aku butuhkan untuk menyelesaikannya. Aku rasa aku harus tahu.

“Aiden? Bagaimana kita bertemu dulu?”

Dia mendongkak mentapku. Dia tersenyum kecil. “Aku menyelamatkan hidupmu.” Dia tertawa pelan. Aku masih agak tersesat didalam kata-katanya, tapi aku ikut tertawa. Sebagian diriku menganggap gurauannya lucu. “Putri jatuh dari tebing dan sang pangeran menolongnya.” Aiden menambahkan. Dengan itu dia juga menambahkan misteri pada kata-katanya sendiri. Aku bingung akan diriku sendiri. Kenapa akutidak bisa mengingat hal seperti itu?

“Nanti akan kutunjukan.” Dia tersenyum kepadaku. Aku tidak tahu apa yang dia maksud, tapi apa boleh buat, aku percaya sajalah! Aku membiarkan kata-katanya melarut di kepalaku sebentar; tapi sama sekali tidak menjelaskan apa-apa. Semua kata-katnya nampak penting tapi hampa pada saat yang sama. Benar-benar membingungkanku. Ya sudahlah. Tak ada satu halpun yang bisa kulakukan sekarang selain mempercayainya. Aku membaringkan kepalaku ke bantal rumah sakit yang berbau antiseptik dan mencoba menenangkan diriku sendiri. Berharap untuk satu saat saja semua makes sense.

Hari sudah sore saat papa akhirnya pulang untuk istirahat. Itu memang satu hari yang gila untuknya. Dia diberitahu anaknya bahwa dia pingsan dirumah tetangganya. Hanya aku yang dapat berbuat keanehan seperti itu. Dan pada saat itu, memang akulah yang berbuat keanehan. Aiden tetap disana menemaniku, bercanda dari waktu ke waktu, mengajakku mengobrol ria. Saat tiba tiba handphonenya berdering dia menatap layarnya dan menatap layarnya beberapa saat. Lalu dia mengulurkan tangannya kepadaku. “Ayo. Aku akan menunjukan sesuatu kepadamu.”

Aku meraih tangannya dan ikut berjalan dengannya keluar kamar dan menaiki lift. Dia memencet tombol lantai 6. Lantai paling tinggi disana. Aku heran, tapi tidak berkata apa-apa. Aku hanya mengikuti instruksinya dan menjawab jika ditanya; seperti militer. Begitu sampai dia menuntunku keluar dan ke sebuah tangga besi yang di cat putih. Dia membantuku mendaki tangga yang rasanya tidak ada akhirnya itu. Dis mendorong pintu besi dan mempersilahkanku lewat.

Angin sore berhembus ringan kepada kulitku. Ada sebuah kursi ditengah-tengah sana. Dia mengajakku berjalan kesana dan menduduki kursi itu. Aku menatap langit jingga dan semua awan beragam warna mengambang dilangit.

“Ariadne Havens, ini untukmu.”

Dia memberiku sebuah pesawat kertas berwarna pink. Kertanya penuh dengan tulisan tangan. “Bukalah.” Katanya. Aku menurutinya dan membuka lipatan kertas itu. Aku membaca suratnya.

Ariadne Havens,

Enam bulan, tiga minggu, empat hari lalu aku bertemu denganmu. Kau sedang menyelamatkan pesawat kertas sampai sampai kau jatuh. Aku menangkapmu. Tiga bulan, tiga minggu, tiga hari lalu aku menerima balas budimu. Tiga bulan, dua hari lalu aku melepaskan berat hatiku kepadamu tentang perceraian dan kondisi papaku. Beberapa hari setelah itu aku mengajakmu naik motor, golf cart dan menyatakan perasaanku. Sebulan sehari yang lalu, papaku meninggal dan tepat sebulan yang lalu aku melanggar janjiku untuk tidak pernah pergi. Empat minggu yang lalu kau jatuh dari tangga besi menuju atap tempat kita pertama bertemu. Tiga minggu enam hari lalu aku mendengar kau jatuh dan kembali dari stanford. Kau pulang empat hari setelah itu, tidak tahu atau ingat apa-apa tentangku. Tadi pagi kau pingsan dirumahku dan sekarang kau ada disini bersamaku. Apakah kau ingat? Aku tidak menyalahkanmu kalu memang tidak. Aku sudah melanggar janjiku, dan aku dihukum seperti ini. Aku pantas menerimanya. Tapi aku ingin kau selalu tahu bahwa aku akan selalu mengingatmu. Karena kau selalu ada dihatiku.

Sayang,

Aiden.

Semua yang pernah kulupakan seakan kembali keingatanku. Aku ingat saat gaun hijauku robek karena jatuh. Aku ingat saat dia mengobati kakiku waktu terluka. Aku ingat waktu dia menjemputku pulang sekolah naik motor ke golf course. Aku ingat makan malam romantis itu dan lagu indah yang mengalun dari ponselnya. Aku ingat semua itu seakan itu baru kemarin. Air mataku mengalir bebas akan haru. Aiden terseyum dan mencuim keningku dengan lembut. Aku memeluknya, berharap bahwa saat itu tidak akn pernah terlupakan sampai kapanpun.

.Epilogue.

“Ayo Ariadne, nanti telat!”

“Iya sebentar!” sahutku terburu-buru sambil mengambil semua buku yang ada diranjang dan kumasukan kedalam tas secepat mungkin. Aku berlari keluar sambil merapihkan tasku. “Maaf, aku telat bangun.” Aku mengemukakan alasanku. Aiden tersenyum, “Sudahlah. Ayo naik!” Aiden menepuk jok. Aku naik keatas motor dan berpegangan erat agar tidak jatuh. “Sudah siap! Ayo jalan!”

Aiden akhirnya menyalakan motor dan menjalankannya. Papa mengijinkanku kuliah di Stanford setelah aku lulus musim panas lalu.Aiden juga kuliah bersamaku. Papa menyewakanku apartment tepat diseberang apartment Aiden, jadi kami masih tetangga. Aiden waktu itu setuju menungguku lulus baru memulai kuliahnya, jadi kami akan ditingkat yang sama walau dijurusan berbeda. Aku meneruskan cintaku melukis dan akhirnya diterima.

“Cepat turun! Sebentar lagi kita telat!” dia berhenti didepan gedungku. “Bye.” Lambaiku. Dia mencium keningku lalu mengendarai motornya pergi. Aku berharap kami tidak akan berubah, tetap seperti ini selamanya. Aku berlari kelasku dengan senyum diwajahku, tidak sabar untuk cepat bertemu Aiden sepulang nanti!

Fin.

Catalyn McDermott couldn’t forget either. She didn’t think the trip will haunt her when she took the offer from Orion Cavelli to go to Italy with him. “Hey! Stop daydreaming, Lyn!” Ingrid Martinoff interrupted Catalyn’s daydreaming session. “Okay, Ing. I’m up now.”

“Good. You have jobs waiting for you. You’re not paid to build castles in the air you know.” Ingrid scolded. Catalyn sighed; she was so not in the mood for working and hearing Ingrid’s random chatter. “Right on it, Ing.” Ingrid left; the sound of her heels knocking on the granite floor signed her leaving. Ingrid Martinoff, the company’s former senior secretary has recently been promoted into to the company’s vice president. Big promotion. Catalyn is now the senior secretary. But she couldn’t take her mind off Italy and Orion; and also the Cavelli family. How was she supposed to take her new job seriously? Catalyn took the phone which was lying and collecting dust on her desk. “Hello Ing? I need a day off.”

***

Orion Cavelli. Jeff wrote for Orion on the piece of paper the librarian informed them to be guest list by the door. Orion himself didn’t feel comfortable in that hall full of shelves and books. Geez, why does everything have to relate to words and letter and numbers? “Orion. Don’t worry yourself. Just enjoy the quiet and silence of this place.” Jeff Hye assured. Orion grunted, “What is a dyslexic person doing in a library? I’ll be even more stressed out. I don’t think this is a good idea.” Orion said reluctantly. “Come on, Orion. You told me you needed some quiet time, and here it is! Your quiet moment. Go for it.” Jeff said.

Orion sighed in desperation; he didn’t think he wanted to outwit Jeff Hye. Jeff has been a really great help for him. His own incapability of reading has withheld him from doing his job in maximal. Thanks to Jeff, that problem is now solved. Jeff reads, Orion thinks; that’s the new method. “Alright. I’ll give it a shot.”

Orion and Jeff entered the library casually. But somehow Orion didn’t feel comfortable being in the middle of things he could not understand. Well, things he could not read anyway. Orion scanned around the room; it seemed to be a slow day. Only five or six people are in the place. Orion caught one woman glancing up at him. She was pretty. Her face was partly covered by strands of her smooth black hair. But beneath the strands of hair, her grey eyes were glinting. She slipped the messy hair behind her ears and shifted her sight back to her book. Orion approached her as Jeff wandered farther away from him.

“Hi. I’m Orion.”

The girl glanced up, her body straightened up then she smiled, “Catalyn McDermott. Nice meeting you. You don’t like it here?” she cocked her head to one side. Orion grinned, “How did you know?”

“Intuition. Why?”

“I’m dyslexic. I can’t read any of this.” His hand pointed to one rack of books after another. Catalyn unexpectedly chuckled, “You just gave quite some information about yourself to a complete stranger.”

“I trust you. I think I do. Can’t be helped, you know a few things about me already.”

“Touché. You know my name already too. Come, sit here.” she invited Orion to the chair beside her. Orion obliged. “So, you’re Orion. Last name?”

“Cavelli.”

Catalyn raised her eyebrows in shock, “Italian? You look kind of like one, but…no accent at all?” Orion smiled, this one’s attentive and very smart. He evaluated. “I was raised by my uncle. He’s an American; I haven’t seen my parents for as long as I can remember.”

“I’m sorry.” Catalyn said. “I’ve never met my parents either. I was raised in an orphanage.” She smiled. She peeped at her watch and said, “Here we are, two complete strangers who met five minutes ago conversing like we have been the best of old friends. I like it.”

Orion felt a hand on his shoulder; it was Jeff. His face was glowing with joy, unlike an hour ago when his face was nothing but stress. “Cybelle’s arrived at the airport. I got to go pick her up. Are you coming?”

Orion turned from Jeff to meet Catalyn’s face. “I have to go…”

“I’ll see you around.” She responded, waved to him then focused on her reading again.

“Cybelle!” Jeff exclaimed in joy as soon as he found his curly blonde haired fiancée waving at him behind her aunt’s wheelchair. Jeff rushed towards the two while Orion walked slowly and casually following his friend. “Madame Mariotte, I’ve seen that your health has improved.” Jeff greeted the elder woman. He grinned then kissed Cybelle passionately; they haven’t met for a month due to Madame Mariotte’s condition. “Ah. I’m back on top, Jeff. I’m now as healthy as a horse again.” Elspeth Mariotte laughed. Her laugh was pleasant to hear. “Well, well. You brought Mr. Cavelli to welcome us too? Too thoughtful of you, Jeff.” Madame Mariotte said as she spotted Orion catching up. “Hi Madame Mariotte. You look healthier.” Orion greeted, “O hi Cybelle. On the other hand, you look so thin. You should eat more.” Orion sounded just like a health consultant. And he probably did it on purpose as Jeff caught him winking to him. “Orion. So nice to meet you!” Cybelle hugged Orion. Cybelle was Orion’s old friend from secondary school. Cybelle used to have Jeff’s job in their secondary school; being interpreter for the writings on the whiteboard; and she used to be Orion’s ex-girlfriend too, that was until Orion broke her up. And fate acquainted them together again through Jeff Hye. “Right back at you, Bells.” Orion said, followed by Cybelle’s adorable laugh. “Okay. Orion, could you help yours truly carry the luggage to the car?” Jeff grinned. As he lifted one of the seemingly humongous suitcase. “You’re sweet.” Cybelle smiled and blew a kiss on Jeff’s cheek. Orion, as usual, followed. He was invited especially for that reason although Jeff didn’t admit it.

“So far so good, I guess.” Elspeth Mariotte said as she relaxed on Jeff’s leather sofa. “The operation ran well?” Orion asked. “Perfectly, lad. Perfectly.” The elder Mariotte replied. Cybelle smiled at her aunt’s reaction. She’s happy to see her auntie healthy again; and happy too. Elspeth Mariotte always liked these two men for company. “Ah. I have to get this.” Orion said as he reached for this ringing cell phone. Everybody knows that Orion’s hand phone never receives text message. They never even bothered; they already knew that he couldn’t read. He moved out of the apartment first then he pressed the ‘answer’ button. After murmurs of several not-so-important-details, Orion came back in; an unusual smile has bloomed on his face. “Who’s that, bro?”

“O, nothing.” His smile grew even wider.

-^^-

“Boy! You’ve grown! Just look at you now, Orion. I couldn’t believe you’re that little boy I used to raise!” Svend Charleston messed up Orion’s black hair. “Yeah, uncle. Thanks for the invite by the way.” A childish grin appeared right away on Orion’s face; it made his uncle nostalgic just looking at the man who used to be just a little baby some while ago. “Come on in! Aine’s already here.”

“Aine’s here?” Orion’s face lightened even more. “Of course, it’s a family reunion!” Svend laughed as he dragged Orion in. “Ri! You’re here! I missed you so much!” Aine jumped and hugged Orion as soon as she spotted him. Aine Charleston was Orion’s cousin. Sister; if Orion was counted as Svend’s son. “’S been a long time, hasn’t it?” Orion replied as soon as Aine’s arms loosened around him and his eyes were able to meet hers. She was just as lovely as she has always been; her straight auburn hair has gotten much longer over the three years they haven’t seen each other; Aine moved to Australia for her studies. Aine was four years younger than Orion; and so much shorter. Aine’s clear blue eyes were exactly as it was. “So, down under. You like it there? Met anyone interesting?” Orion teased. Surprisingly, Aine’s cheeks blushed drastically. Her pale cheeks turned so pink so soon. “Guess I have.” She whispered. Svend whistled, “My girl has grown up! Carla must be so proud. Wished she was here.” his expression saddened. Aine approached him and placed her hand on his shoulder and offered a sincere smile. Carla Charleston, Aine’s mother, died a long time ago. “Alright! What good is mopping?  Let’s eat my cooking! I made something special for you all.” Svend’s face lightened again. His familiar grin appeared; this made Orion felt much better, but a little scared. What experience has taught him was that his Uncle Svend’s cooking was nearly inedible. “Dad, I’ve eaten already. I don’t think I can swallow anything anymore.” Aine excused herself smoothly. “Me too, uncle.” Orion took the best of the excuse given earlier by his cousin. “Okay lads. Suit yourselves. How about some music?”

-^^-

“How’s your weekend with dearest uncle in mobile home?” Jeff teased. He could see Orion loved it. Although the food was undoubtedly terrible and the space inside the cramped mobile home was unquestionably small; the greatest joy to meet his family was always there. At least meet the only family he has. “Great.” And his cell phone rang again. That thing rang a lot lately. “Ry, I have somebody I want you to meet. Come meet me at the coffee shop near your office whatever its name is. See you. This is Aine by the way.” She chuckled and hung up. Orion rose from his chair, “Jeff, you don’t mind sorting everything in here for a while right? I got to meet my sis.”

“Your sis? You have a sister?” Jeff asked curiously without even taking his eyes off the paperwork. “My cousin, actually. You know; my uncle’s daughter.”

“O. she’s here?”

“Nearby.” Orion had worn his coat on and closed the door.

“Here’s him.” Aine said as Orion appeared by the door. Her friend scanned and evaluated him. Orion Cavelli?

“He’s your cousin?” Catalyn asked Aine as Orion approached their table with the same questioning look. “Yeah.” Aine murmured. “Hi Aine. Catalyn?” Orion greeted as soon as he reached the table and took his seat. “You know her? What a coincidence!” Aine, as usual, was very cheerful about this. “Hi Orion.” Catalyn greeted. Where have I seen the name Cavelli lately? She recalled. Aine and Orion chatted as Catalyn sorted out each file that she has worked at in the office the past few days in her head. “I got it!” she exclaimed; making Orion and Aine shocked of her reaction. “I knew I’ve seen the name Cavelli lately. There’s some kind of documents discovered lately signed by the name Cavelli, like some kind of lost diary. Important for sure. And what makes me sure about this was the name Charleston which was in there too.” Orion’s eyes bulged. He has never heard anything at all that has any connections with his parents. He didn’t even know what they looked like. “Tell me more about it.”

“Well, the other day, my law office got a pile of new documents to sort through. And there was this case about a discovered documentary by the name Cavelli. The case was to whom these documents would rightfully be given. My superiors thought that it was better to give it to Svend Charleston. But there had been the issue of their son, which I believe is you. You are the rightful owner of those documents, Orion!”

“So where are they now?” Aine asked. “In Italy.” Catalyn answered.

Aine turned her face to Orion, “So are you going?”

“I don’t know.” Orion’s voice lowered. “It’s okay if you don’t. Dad will get it eventually. Then you can see it for yourself.” Aine suggested. “Wrong, Aine. If they decided that the documents cannot be passed here to America, or even if the documents were considered to be Italian property, no one will get their hands on the documents but governments, either American or Italian. Unless, that is, if you will go and claim it.” Catalyn explained. She has faced this kind of case more than once; she has been working in a law company. “O no,” Aine murmured, “Will you go?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe…” Orion whispered. “Still, it’s your choice. If you won’t go, it’s fine. But either way, I’m still going to check it out. I’ll tell you what I find if you want.” Catalyn offered. “No. I’ll go. I’ve got to see it for myself.” Orion decided; it made a smile form on Catalyn’s lips. Strong willed; this one. “I’ll be going two weeks from now. Coming along?”

“Book a ticket for me, will you?”

-^^-

“Tomorrow.” Orion replied. “What? Tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve come with you!” Svend said. Aine had just told him what was happening and he invited Orion over to talk about it. “I’m sorry uncle, but I… didn’t think about it. I just did it. I’ll tell you what I find.”

“But it’s not enough! My sister and her husband drops you here one day and never returned? I have to know, Orion.” True, Svend never knew what happened either. His sister was a brilliant scientist, so was her husband. But what has become of them has never been revealed. “I’m sorry.” Orion stared at his uncle’s dark blue eyes; Orion could feel some of his pain too. Orion shifted his look to Aine, who has been sitting and observing them. As soon as she spotted Orion looking straight at her, she directly faced other direction nervously. Obviously, she was feeling guilty. Orion’ cell phone rang. Thank goodness. Orion thought; it saved him from more argument that was coming halfway already.

“Hello?”

“Ri, Madame Mariotte fainted. She’s conscious now, but she had been absent-mindedly calling people’s names. First Cybelle, me then now you. You know hope hospital, right? Please come now. Room 306.” And Jeff hung up. “Really sorry uncle, but an emergency just came up. I have to go.”

“Alright, son. Go.” Svend sighed and then smiled.

“Excuse me, where’s room 306?” Orion asked the receptionist who looked as though she hasn’t shampooed for three months and was chewing bubble gum. “Second floor.” and with that, Orion has rushed into the-luckily-open elevator and asked a person inside the elevator to press the button 2. When it opened again, Orion has already rushed out and dashed in the alley. “306, 306…” he mumbled. Then after passing several doors, he remembered of his incapability of reading. Darn. Jeff must’ve forgotten that I’m dyslexic. And again, with luck that apparently came on time, a nurse left a room. “Excuse me, which one is room number 306?” the nurse gave him an annoyed look. “I’m dyslexic.” Orion said and the nurse’s expression turned understandingly. “The one just before the end of the alley.” Orion thanked the nurse and swiftly moved to the room referred. He opened the door. “Thank God you’re here!” Cybelle shrieked. “Over here, hurry!” Jeff’s voice called. Cybelle guided Orion to her sick aunt who was chanting Orion’s name. “I’m here.” Orion held Madame Mariotte’s wrinkled pale hands.

“Young Orion Cavelli. You know, when I was young, I knew a Cavelli too. I don’t know if he has any blood ties with you or not. Mikkel Cavelli was one great man. Outstanding in words, and has a strong character. I looked up to that man for years. He then married a woman from America; very beautiful, very lovely. They moved out to America, had a kid and I’ve never heard of them since. Matches your story, I figure?” she chuckled weakly.

“Yeah. It matches.”

“Isn’t it too bad though? I wished I remembered this earlier. But my life just flashed before my eyes a few moments ago, and I just happen to see that particular scene which contained Mikkel and me. I missed that man. You do too, don’t you? Even though you never know him too much? I wish you luck and happiness boy, your journey is still far ahead.” And she flashed a slight smile. Cybelle broke into tears immediately. “Dear, don’t cry. My life has been a nice, long one. I’m satisfied, really. But yours is just about to start. Don’t mourn for me, darling. That’ll be an insult. Oops, my time has come. Good luck to all of you.” She smiled one last time and then she was gone. Cybelle cried even louder in Jeff’s arms. Orion’s hold on the lady’s hand tightened. One more has slipped away. The more you try to hold them, they slip away even easier. Just like little grains of sand through your fingers. He sighed and rushed to the door. “Be strong.” he said; then he left.

“You ready?” Catalyn asked as they enter the airport. “What other choice do I have?” he said. Catalyn has arranged everything for that day. The plane ticket, the lodging and all paperwork for it. “You can go home and forget all about this.” She suggested playfully. “Not a chance.” He said then went deeper inside and they mixed with the crowd.

The journey was smooth and they landed in Italy. “What to do next?” Orion asked. He didn’t sleep the whole flight there. He looked tired. “What about checking in? You need rest.”

“Don’t we all?” he joked. “Let’s just go. It’s not far. Or do you want to go for food?” Catalyn asked. “I’d rather go get some rest. My eyes are heavy already.” he grinned and Catalyn has to drag him half the way.

“So, what next?” Orion awoken the next morning with his very good mood. “Museum, I guess.” Catalyn said with uncertainty. “Museum. Why?” Orion asked, puzzled.

“Well, I got a call yesterday night. They told me that they moved it into the museum as the documents apparently contain some very valuable information for Italy.”

“So they’re going to claim it?” his forehead tautened. “Seems so. But maybe not. I don’t know.” She looked at her watch, “We better hurry, and our appointment is in 20 minutes.”

“Appointment?”

“Yeah, I arranged it last night. Get ready; I’ll call a cab service.” She said as her hand signaled Orion to go. He then rushed into his own room and changed his clothes. His mind couldn’t help wondering if he’ll never know what’s in that document. But he had to hope; he had to.

The atmosphere in the cab was not lively. Deathlike silence was all there was. Good thing the museum was not far away; even so, communicating with the cab driver himself would be very hard if not for Catalyn who was amazing at 12 languages. After about 20 minutes of driving, they finally paid the cab driver and then rushed up the flights of stairs.

“Ms. McDermott?” the secretary called Catalyn with her rich accent. “Yes?” she answered just as she stopped before the receptionist counter. “Mr. Debanheire is waiting. Please enter.” She said without even taking her eyes off the computer screen. But Catalyn didn’t seem to mind anyway. “Thank you.” She said as she pushed the door open and stepped in, followed by Orion.

The referred Mr. Debanheire was a short man. He looked like a very methodic man; all his pens were placed neatly in the pen case and his mahogany table was glossy. Very glossy. “Ms. McDermott? Ah, so glad you could make it. And this must be young Mr. Cavelli.” He said as he shook Orion’s hand. “Please sit.” He said. And they sat. Catalyn then started the conversation, “Mr. Debanheire, I hear you’re in charge of the Cavelli documents. As you probably already know, I’m from the law company, Henson & Parker. The company which deals with the case of this documents. And this Mr. Cavelli is the rightful owner of those documents, I believe.”

Orion remained silent.

“Ah, Ms. McDermott. But these documents contain very valuable scientific research results. Italy has the right to have it as well. Look, Mr. Cavelli was born here, he was raised here, and he worked here. He was our citizen. But if you are willing to see it now, I can show you.” Mr. Debanheire clarified. Everybody remained silent, waiting for Orion’s decision.

“Alright. Where is it?” Orion finally decided. “Here, Mr. Cavelli. Inside this glass case.” Mr. Debanheire handed the case over to Orion. Inside the transparent case was an old hard-covered diary. Orion opened the case and reached for it.

Due to his incapability to read, he just flipped the pages and let Catalyn read for him. There was a photo slipped on its first page. It was a photo of Orion and his parents when he was a baby. Orion smiled at the picture; at least there was a memory.

First page:

Diane C. Cavelli.

And Orion turned the second page:

28. January. 1985

I delivered my son today! Mikkel and I have decided to name him Orion. He’s such a cute baby boy that I’ve decided to write a new diary. Since all my previous diaries ended up as research notes and formula lists, I have decided to write on a brand new book. And Mikkel agreed with me. Orion is the most handsome baby boy I’ve ever seen; maybe I’m a little biased about it but I think every mother in the world would behave like me. Especially since Orion’s my firstborn. I love him unconditionally; work comes far second from my son. I will always love him.

Catalyn continued to flip the page, the second entry:

28 February 1985.

As a new mother and scientist, I’m really quite busy even without the extra works, so I can only fill up these pages really late at night or whenever I’m free. Orion’s a very smart baby. He’s now exactly a month old. Mikkel said that I’ve been spoiling him the last month, but I don’t believe so; infants need lots of love and attention, that’s what I have always believed. Anyway, Mikkel and I are travelling right now, experimenting and discovering new things. This is Orion’s first step to becoming a genius! I would be so proud. Got to make this entry short ‘because I don’t have that much time on my hands.

Orion could feel eyes moistened. And yet he skipped quite some pages before he let Catalyn continue reading for him.

6 august 1986

O gosh. Mikkel has a very severe fever. I’m not feeling so well myself, just not as bad as Mikkel. I hope my little Orion does not contract this disease too. Although Mikkel is sick, he kept doing his work incessantly and I’m a little worried about him. He says that something isn’t right with this illness or something. I barely paid any attention. Orion could now walk. He’s really brilliant. He could talk so very fluently although not perfectly. For some reason, he just couldn’t read. Maybe he’s too young for it? I don’t know. He maybe dyslexic, but I sure hope he isn’t. Even if he is, he’ll still be the genius he is; with or without an ability to read. Duty really is insisting me to stop this entry. I hope I can write some more.

Tears were already pooling in Orion’s eyes, but he wanted to hear the rest of the thin journal, and so he flipped the pages and skipped two entries. He let Catalyn continue reading.

17 July 1987

Mikkel said the sickness we’re suffering from is a new type of disease. Which means it’ll take time to process the disease to know more about it and then find a cure. This will take a long time! Mikkel told me that this disease is quite lethal but it takes its time. Orion hasn’t showed signs of having been infected, so I guess he’s okay. But I doubt it’ll last very long. And I finally found out that Orion is really dyslexic. He just couldn’t read no matter how I try to teach him. He seems to scramble the letters in his head. No matter, I know Orion will eventually work his way around and become a successful man anyway. I have nothing to worry about his future. Mikkel and I have decided to let Orion be in Svend’s care for a while-Svend’s my brother- until the disease cease from us or at least until we find a cure. It has been about two years and we seem to be suffering even worse every day.  At least if we have to die, Orion will stay safe and that the disease would die with us. That is all I ask. I’m going to Svend’s now. I’ll take all day but at least my baby’s safe. I just hope I can stop crying and stop worrying Orion who is trying to comfort me.

And finally, there are a few black pages and then, one last entry.

30 may 1888

I’m devastated. Mikkel died exactly one month ago. It’s been three years since we contracted the disease and we’ve isolated ourselves ever since. Only once we left our isolation and that was when we had to save our son Orion. He’s three now. I missed him so much. I feel even my end is near. Mikkel apologized to me at his last moment because he couldn’t find a cure. I don’t mind. I don’t think he disappointed me. Not at all. He had been the man I loved and who loved me till his end. I don’t regret anything. But I wished I could’ve watched Orion grow and raise him up myself. Well, I know it would remain a dream. I’m feeling sleepy now. And I doubt I will wake up again. So maybe this is my last entry. Signing off; Diane and Mikkel Cavelli.

Orion finally let his tears stream down his face. They died; his parents died protecting the rest of humanity. He could never be prouder. “Are you okay?” Catalyn asked while she wiped her own tears on her sleeve. Orion nodded and smiled. “I’ve gotten what I came for. Thanks.” Orion said. “My pleasure.” Catalyn smiled back to Orion. They thanked Mr. Debanheire for the trouble and flew back home.

***

Catalyn reached for her cell-phone and pressed 5. Using speed dial helped her multi-task efficiently, “Hello? Meet me at the café downtown. The one next to the pizzeria. I’ll be waiting.” Then she hung up. That was too important to chat over the phone or waste her time on. She needed to talk face to face. Now.

Orion arrived minutes after. “Catalyn. Nice to see you again.” He smiled and took a seat in front of her. “Likewise, Orion.” She smiled back. “So what’s this urgent business?”

“The trip to Italy. I couldn’t get it out of my head. Don’t you feel that there was something strong in her writing? Something that changed our lives the moment we laid eyes on the diary?”

“Can I say that there wasn’t? My mom was the one writing that! She saved me. She was one hero figure I would never get to know.” Orion sighed. “Honestly Orion, I can’t stop thinking about it. I know it doesn’t have anything to do with me, but… for some reason; I can’t forget it.” she mumbled. Everything was fresh in her mind, the handwritten diary, the yellowish pages, the photograph…

The photograph.

“Orion, that photograph. Did you take it from the diary by any chance?” Catalyn asked, as soon as she remembered that one little piece of photograph. Orion’s face looked shocked, then regretful. “No.” he whispered.

“Then we have to get it! I mean, that’s yours, isn’t it?” Catalyn said. Orion seemed even more astonished, “I think it is, but what can we do about it?”

“I doubt you can. I just wish I have enough time. Sorry, Ry. In this case, I got to go. I’ll inform you on any progress. I promise.”

Catalyn hurriedly left the café, leaving Orion wondering what that girl’s about to do.

_._

Catalyn went through her piles of documents as soon as she reached home. “Ah!” she pulled one document from a neat pile on her coffee table. That one was the exact one she wanted. He reached for her cell phone in her pocket and dialed the number 503-9342. “Hello, this is Catalyn McDermott; can I speak to Mr. Debanheire please?”

I less than 24 hours, Mr. Debanheire was already standing in front of an office door. The bronze plaque stated ‘Ms. McDermott. Secretary.’ Mr. Debanheire became more uncertain of this, his briefcase felt like it weigh 200 tons and he was so nervous in a few seconds his clothes would have been soaked in sweat. He took a long deep breath and knocked once. Catalyn opened the door and ushered the nervous man in. to Catalyn, he looked as if he was doing a crime; which of course he wasn’t. “Nice to meet you again miss.” Mr. Debanheire greeted. “Likewise sir. Please sit down.” She issued. Mr. Debanheire took his seat and opened his briefcase. “This is all the information I can collect on Mr. and Mrs. Cavelli.” He laid the paperwork on Catalyn’s desk. The woman took it on her hands and skimmed through it. Her smile widened as she flipped the pages. She finally placed the papers on the desk, “Thank you sir. This is very valuable for me,” she smiled, “and sir, can I keep this photograph?” she tapped on Orion’s family picture. “Sure miss. Thank you for having me.” he said and went out of the room. Catalyn sighed satisfyingly and pulled her drawer. Another photograph was there; she picked it up and smiled. Mystery solved.

Two days later, Orion got a phone call from Catalyn McDermott to meet her at the café where they talked a few days ago.  He headed there as soon as he could; he knew Catalyn didn’t like to be kept waiting for long. He arrived moments later. He saw Catalyn waved at him from one corner of the room. he took his seat across her. “Hi.” He said.

“Hi to you too.” Catalyn answered with a very bright smile. “What’s up?” Orion asked curiously. Catalyn searched her purse for a few long seconds and slid a photograph to Orion’s side of the table. Orion stared at the picture for a while and then shifted his view to Catalyn, “How were you able get this?”

“I asked Mr. Debanheire very nicely,” She joked, “and guess what? I have obtained yet another piece of information.”

“What’s that?”

She slid another photograph to Orion. In that photo, his parents were cradling two babies. One was bigger than the other, probably older too. “Who is the other baby?” he asked. “That was me.” Catalyn answered as she pointed at the baby Mikkel Cavelli was carrying. Orion seemed astonished. “When you were three weeks old, your parents came to the orphanage I was in. I was two weeks old at that time. They came to take to play with the kids there. And it turned out that I was the only kid there that was about your age. Usually, kids less than a month old aren’t capable of even crawling, but we were able to crawl and play. Your parent liked me and they wanted to take me under their foster care. They wanted adopt me. But they told the head of the orphanage that they’ll pick me up after their research trip. They never did. And now I know why.” She smiled; regretfully and understandingly at the same time.  “So are you my legal sister?” Catalyn was shocked of Orion’s question. “No. they never had the chance to fill in the proper papers.”

Orion moved to sit beside Catalyn. Catalyn was quite confused why he moved, but before she could ask him anything, Orion kissed Catalyn’s left right cheek, “Thanks. I’ve got to go.” He smiled, rose and walked out as he waved. While Catalyn? Catalyn just sat there, astonished and flattered.

*****

“Orion! Why are you so late?” Cybelle nagged. “Give him a break, dear.” Jeff laughed. “Sorry guys, I have to pick up Catalyn.” Orion grinned. “Ah. Where’s she?” Jeff asked. Right at that moment, Catalyn walked in the room wearing her stunning snow blue bridesmaid dress. “Hi.” She smiled. “Great, everybody’s here.” Cybelle smiled. Cybelle and Jeff were getting married. It has been three months since Elspeth Mariotte died. Her wish before she died was that the couple would get married within 5 months from that day. And they fulfilled it. Orion became their best man and Aine and Catalyn became the bridesmaids. And the ring bearer? Who knows.

“Everybody ready?” Jeff asked followed by many yeses and okays. The typical wedding music started playing and the bride and groom started walking on the red carpet. The scene was as beautiful as any wedding could be. Turned out that the ring bearer was Cybelle’s 10 year old nephew, Matthew. It was kind of funny. The ceremony finally ended and everybody started to eat. Orion ate on the same table as the bride and groom. “So when’s yours?” Cybelle asked Orion out of the blue. “What?”

“When’s your wedding with Catalyn?” Orion’s face blushed, and so did Catalyn’s. “Um, uh…” both of them became speechless while the others on the table laughed at their awkward reaction. The night was so alive with laughter. But even a night like that has to end.

“So what do you think?” Catalyn asked as they drive on the highway. “About what?”  Orion asked. “Getting married.”

“I don’t know. I don’t see that happening soon.”

“Me neither. So we are on the same page then.” Catalyn said cheerfully. “Yeah,” Orion answered, “Time will come.” He whispered.

Catalyn nodded, “The future isn’t written on stone. Everything can change.”

“Exactly.”

All the despair and the hopelessness,

All the sadness and the pain;

We’ll finally see each other and put on a happy smile.

‘Cause we’ve won the battle;

The battle of the harshness of life;

With you beside me and cheering with me.

“Miss Cravecrest?” I opened my eyes to see who bothered to call me. Unfortunately, he seemed to be a teacher. I haven’t realized that the noise have ceased. “Yes?” I asked. “Please introduce yourself to the class.” He instructed. I rose from my seat for one second, “The name’s Sonnete Laurelle Cravecrest.” I said then sat back down. I had nothing else to say. The teacher looked at me in confusion for a while then gave up and walked back to the place where he’s supposed to be; in front of the class. Although my eyes and ears listened to what Mr. Evans –the teacher earlier- was teaching about, my mind wandered off far, far away. I guess the teacher didn’t mind my absent mindedness because it’s my first day. Anyway, that day was as I predicted. Nobody even called my name besides the teachers; I guess that’s just perfect. If I want to flunk, this is just one easy straight road to it. I even have my reasons, such as, ‘I’m a little occupied because I stress about fitting in.’ or something like that. Just perfect.

*

My first week of school was just very smooth, that was until I spotted him.he passed my table during lunch; I have no idea who he was, I just felt that I’ve seen him somewhere. And that’s a threat. I mean, if he was anyone from my old school, he’d know that I used to be a good populaar girl, and I just can’t afford that to happen. if that happens, the teacher would start questioning me and calling my parent, and eventually I have to turn back to be the girl I used to be. Nope! I’m never going to let that happen. but I just can’t approach him directly, that would blow my cover as freak. If he was popular, that would be even more dangerous. I calmed myself down before I got too worked up. I might’ve just passed him while I was buying groceries or something, so he might not even recognize me; I don’t even recognize him. I think I’ll just let this thing float this way for a while; if I never cross paths with him here, then he’ll never even know I even went to that school. so everything’s okay. For now. “Miss Cravecrest, could you solve the problem on the board for us?” my math teacher, Mrs. Johnson, called. she must’ve caught me daydreaming again. And so I tried to solve the problem on that board. Too bad I got it wrong, so I had to stay after class for an additional lesson. What’s that all about anyway? I missed one question, so what? But I thought it would be better just to follow what they say rather than getting in trouble with either of my parents anyway. Everybody was dismissed at 3; everybody in class except me. I had additional class to attend to. The questions she gave me that afternoon were all easy that I managed to finish all 20 questions by 3.10. Another bad luck, I was 5 minutes too late to catch the school bus so I had to stay a few hours longer to get a ride home. It’s not like I could walk home now, my house’s not that close. And my only hope is that the school bus would come back quickly so I can beg the driver a ride home. While absentmindedly walking around the school corridor, I was reminded by a poster that this school had an impressive musical facility. So I decided to check it out. I climbed three flights of stairs and then found a row full of music rooms. I’m impressed; all the schools I used to attend never had this good a facility. Then I heard music. I was startled by it, but became immediately amazed by the sound. That song! I’ve heard that Trois Gymnopédies before! The precision, the accuracy. The melody drew me closer and closer to it; I was so drawn to it that I actually ran to the end of that corridor and slammed that door open, “Who played that song?” I yelled then gasped for air. The guy who was sitting on the chair in front of the grand piano turned his head towards me. I knew it! I knew I recognized him from somewhere!

“Devon Lowell?” I asked; just to make sure I wasn’t wrong. “Nice to meet you again, Sonnete.” He grinned. That childish grin I’d recognize anywhere, same goes for his Trois Gymnopédies. “I haven’t met you since… you left last year, wow, you look so different!” I commented. He chuckled, “Well, it was a year ago. I grow too you know.”

“But how? You went away. Last year to France. I don’t understand… I saw you left. You told me you’re taking up the scholarship in Paris. You said you wouldn’t be back…” I tried to put the scenes in its places inside my head. He grinned again, “I came back. I had to. You didn’t think I was going to leave you all alone here, did you?” I ran to his side and hugged him, wanted to make sure he was truly there and not just a fragment of my imagination. After all, he was one of the reasons for me to change; to leave my old life behind and start fresh in a messed up way. He returned my caress immediately. I could feel the warmth of his embrace; that brought me back to that time he was about to leave on that plane to France. I was completely devastated. I refused to get out of my room even for food, I didn’t want to go back to school for a few days until I finally got over it and start living again. But life has no more thrills afterwards and then I moved. A simple step to destroy one’s life.

“How did you find me?” I asked. “That wasn’t an easy job you know. I didn’t consider that you would move away so far. Guess what? My uncle owns this school. He proved it to be a good thing in my darkest hour.” He joked. “But it means you turned down the scholarship?” I was afraid to even mention it. Afraid that his dreams would be destroyed because of me. “It was terminated. Maybe they thought I wasn’t good enough yet. No matter.” He shrugged. I squeezed him tighter. “I’m gonna crumble if you don’t let go.” He warned. And slowly I let my arms loosened. My eyes were a little soggy from the tears, but I’m okay. Better than okay. I’ve missed Devon so much. “Why don’t you play some for me?” he asked, pointing to the grand piano. I shook my head. “You do it.” I just couldn’t bear telling him that I stopped playing the piano few months after he left. He’d be crushed. He was the one who taught me how to play the piano when I was 6. We come way back, since I was 5. Devon was the only friend I had back then, the only one who understood me, and the one who cared for me. My parents didn’t play that role, he did. My parents were just a couple of rich people who left their kid all alone in the cold lonely world. Well, now I’m just exaggerating it. No, they just didn’t seem to spend any time with me at all.

He shrugged and started his song all over again. I just loved that song.

**

“Wow, what did you do to your ‘new look’?” Devon asked me when he saw me about to enter the school gate. Apparently he’s been waiting for me. He noticed that I’ve removed my nail polish, wore a skirt which fulfilled the requirement length and wore a decent school shirt. “I don’t need it anymore.” I grinned at him. “Really?” he teased. “Yup. I have you right?” I smiled. He did too as he held my hand and we walked to class.

Even in my class, everybody was staring at me as if I was a new student all over again. I knew it must be weird seeing me with proper uniform after wrecking it a few days ago. Even my teacher was shocked when he saw me. Yeah, I guess the good girl image was starting to return to me. And this time I was okay with it. People actually started talking to me for the first time.

“So is your new image working?” Devon asked me afterschool in that music room where we met yesterday. “Kind of. People started talking to me, but I guess that doesn’t make any difference.” I shrugged indifferently. “What doesn’t make any difference, Sonnete? You’ve finally opened up. Of course it makes a difference!” Devon exclaimed in disbelief. I just laughed as his reaction. Seeing him and talking to him face to face like that… it even seemed like he never left.  “Thanks by the way.” I said. “What for?” he seemed amused for some reason. “The ride home yesterday, today too. But that’s not exactly it. For… coming back. Thanks.” I finally spoke it out. He looked happy to hear that. “Ah, I’ve turned soft haven’t I?” I joked.  “No,” he said, giving a slight smile then continued, “You’re the same girl I knew and loved. But you already know that right?”

“It’s just better to hear it spoken rather than just ‘knowing’.” I laughed. “Alright. I love you.” He whispered. I chuckled, but I could feel blood rising up to my cheeks. “Well, I love you too. It’s getting quite late, we better head home, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you say.” He laughed and we went home together, enjoying the evening breeze outside.

**

“Toss me that water bottle please.” I asked Devon. Within a second, the water bottle has already landed on my hands. “Thanks.” I said before opening the cap and gulped the water down. “It’s not that spicy.” Devon commented. “Oh yes it is!” I objected. We were in Devon’s messy room on a lazy Saturday afternoon. The weather was quite hot outside so we decided to ditch the bikes and stay inside. Devon has offered me some of the spicy snacks he just bought and I took that offer. And I regretted it. “Do you have any more water?” I asked, lifting the empty bottle up high so he could see that it was empty. “Okay. Be right back. Don’t die.” He teased. I stuck my tongue out for one second, and then he disappeared behind the door. Devon’s room has always been like this; messy. I decided to see the things he’s got to distract myself from the spicy taste on my tongue that’s burning it mildly. A few music books, lots of music scores scattered everywhere. I pulled one of the music books with the label ‘Beethoven’ on it and flipped its pages to see if Devon has destroyed it with his curly handwriting. Lots and lots of scratches and lines were in that book. Just as I was about to put it back where I got it, a sheet of paper flew down from its pages. And so I picked it up and started reading it. I couldn’t help myself; tears flowed from my eyes naturally. I quickly slipped that slip back inside the book and sat down, wiping my tears. “Hey, this is the last bottle. It’s really hard to find, guess mom forgot to buy more… hey, what’s wrong?” he immediately slid beside me and patted my back slightly. “Why’d you have to sacrifice so much for me?” my lips shook a little bit, but I managed to say the words. “What d’you mean?” he asked defensively. “I saw that slip in that book. You declined that scholarship. Why’d you do that? I mean it’s your dream! Why give it up?”

“I couldn’t bear leaving you behind. You were so destroyed. Not literally but… ah, you know what I mean.”

“But your dream…”

“You’re more important to me than all that. You get that, don’t you?”

I just shook my head in disagreement, not to what he said, but to what he did. “I want you to take it. I read the slip, you still can take it.” I said slowly so that he could understand me although I was sobbing. “What?” I guess my statement startled him; maybe he just didn’t see it coming. “Take the scholarship. Three years right? Take it.” I ordered. He was speechless. He didn’t say a word, he just stared at me. “I…” he said before I cut him off again. “You can’t just throw your dreams away like that. You have talent; not everyone can get a chance in that school! And you’ve gotten two chances already! Please take it. For me? Please?” I begged. “Will you be okay?” he finally asked. “I’ll just have to wait for you. Three years. I’m okay with that. At least I’ll try. Please, take it. This is your chance! Your one shot.”

“Are you sure? Positive? You will wait for me?” his voice turned quite sad. “I will. I promise.”  I whispered. He smiled and kissed my forehead slightly.

*****

“Hey, Sonnete?” my seatmate, Undine called me. “Yeah?” I asked sleepily. That was my last year in high school. “I think somebody’s calling for you downstairs.” She said as she peeped at the window again. The class haven’t even started yet and somebody’s already here for me. Shocker. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong this week, so I must be safe. I’ve been acting just like a normal student, dressing like a normal student and even attending school like a normal student. “Okay, I’m going down now.” I said lazily and I walked slowly downstairs. What is it now? I’ve reached the ground floor when I heard his voice. “Surprise.” I saw him grinning at me. I ran to him and hugged him. Almost the exact thing I did when I saw him three years ago. “Been waiting?” I nodded. He still felt the same. “Miss me?” he teased. “You have no idea.” I laughed. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t miss you. I’m losing my mind there! I’ve missed you baby girl.” he whispered. “I know.” I whispered back as he held me tighter. That memory burned into my mind.

Four years later…

“And now we’re on the peak of our concert, I present you the duet from Devon and Sonnete Lowell!” I heard the host announced. Well, this is now my turn. I haven’t participated in a concert as grand as this for many, many years especially since I got married. “Nervous?” Devon grinned. “Yeah, a bit.”

He reached out for my hand and guided me out to the stage. The crowd cheered. It was hard for me to breathe the first few seconds, but I was alright. Then, Devon and I were separated and sat on the two grand pianos. Devon gave me a supporting smile, and then, it all started. My fingers played naturally, I enjoyed every melody as the sound of my piano merged with Devon’s. My pain and sadness had been long gone; Devon has chased them away. And now, all I could feel is the surge of happiness. All thanks to Devon. I smiled to myself and then continued the song even more passionately. I may not be able to speak out how I feel to Devon; I guess the music can do it for me instead. The Trois Gymnopédies that we played will be our song. Until this moment, the melody has always brought us together. Yes, that was our song for sure.

Fin.

]]> http://angga25.wordpress.com/2010/05/22/our-melody/feed/ 4 angga25 http://angga25.wordpress.com/2010/03/21/de-cour-de-la-mer/ http://angga25.wordpress.com/2010/03/21/de-cour-de-la-mer/#comments Sun, 21 Mar 2010 14:53:37 +0000 angga25 http://angga25.wordpress.com/?p=153 ]]> Athenodora stared at the vast white sand. Her mind wandered around as she sat watching the rolling waves crashed the shore. The sound of the ocean; o how she missed it. The strong smell of salt was always there, even then. She smiled to herself remembering those days. “Mom.” Her daughter called. Athenodora glanced up and spotted her teenage daughter smiling brilliantly at her. She handed Ata a drink. “Thanks dear.” Ata smiled. Her daughter sat beside her, “You missed dad.” She murmured. Ata nodded, “Of course I do. Don’t you?” her daughter; Ersvinne, mumbled back a ‘yes’. The chilly night air doesn’t bother Ata anymore; she’s just very used to it. Her house was near the ocean; but she hasn’t once visited the ocean after her husband died. The ocean was Athenodora’s first true love.

***

Her eyes admired the sparkling water of the blue sea; the moon was reflected on its surface. The cool night breeze swept her face and her long auburn hair, the smell of strong salt was so clear in the air, floating to nowhere. Athenodora let out a loud sigh and turned her face from the waters. “Ata!” the most familiar voice called. Ata’s head couldn’t help but turn to the direction where the sound came from. And there he was; Reynard Mont. “Hey.” He said when he saw Ata looking at him. “O hi.” she stammered. Reynard Mont was the most handsome young man she has ever met; putting aside Gerald Johnson that is. “Do you stay nearby?” he asked in his rich British accent. Ata smiled and shook her head, “I stay downtown. I like spending my nights here. It’s always beautiful; so very peaceful.” Ata stopped herself from starting a monologue; she can feel blood rising up to her cheeks. Reynard seemed to notice her blush and smile. “You’re right.” He said as the breeze blew their faces. Then, from behind Reynard, appeared a beautiful blonde woman. Reynard turned to her than back to Ata, “Ata, this is Aisling Crowford. Aisling, this is Athenodora Randolph.” He introduced them. The women shook hands, but hostility was between them; Aisling wasn’t so friendly. “O.” Ata whispered. Reynard caught her emotion quickly and understood her immediately, “Aisling’s a friend. An acquaintance actually.” He explained. Ata’s spirit was quite lifted; that was until Aisling made a swift move, she grabbed Reynard’s arm and hugged it. An awkward feeling swept over Ata, “I… have to go. See you, Reynard,” she paused and choked up an “Aisling.” And she nodded politely then ran back to the darkness until even her back can no longer be seen.

“Ola?” Athenodora’s throat felt dry as she answered the call. The light of day had just appeared and she already got a phone call. “Can I speak to Ata please? This is Reynard Mont.”

“It’s me.” Ata could feel her heartbeat gaining. “O hi. Um… we were wondering if you’d join us for breakfast.”

“We?” Ata’s tone sounded bitter. “Aisling and I. In the nearby restaurant of Van Vermont.” Reynard replied.

“No thank you. Aisling probably doesn’t want me there anyway.” Ata muttered. “O okay. Sorry to bother you.” His voice filled with regret. “I’m terribly sorry… I don’t mean to…”

“No problem. It’s alright, I don’t really mind anyway.” He interrupted. “What if I join you for dinner later on? To make up for this morning?” Ata suggested out of pity; probably of herself. “O yes! That would be wonderful. Thank you. I’ll see you later then? Seven?”

“Seven.” Ata agreed. Reynard’s voice sounded excited again. His emotions can easily be guessed through his voice. They both hung the phone up. Ata sighed in frustration; what was she supposed to do? Dinner date for three was not in the list of her most wanted thing to do. Aisling Crowford and Athenodora Randolph didn’t match. Not now, not ever. But Reynard Mont was another deal. Aisling might not match with Ata, but not Reynard. Ata and Reynard were best friends two years back, during college. Ata Randolph had a crush for Reynard back in those days, but it seems that the feeling did not die overtime. Ata rose from her bed and showered. She couldn’t sleep with the date haunting her.

Eating very delicious omelets didn’t help her either. The hotel’s restaurant was terrific and exquisite, but the woman was too depressed to enjoy the bites. Such drat; having to spend all her day worrying about a three person date. Her evening finally ended with a nice cup of strawberry milkshake, and it cheered her up quite well. Then the phone call comes.

“Hello, Ata? Where are you staying?”

“I’d rather just meet you in the restaurant; where are we going anyway?” the idea of being nauseated ahead of schedule because of seeing Aisling walk in the hotel’s lobby with a well-fitted cocktail dress and a hand-purse with her undeniable beauty didn’t appeal to her. “That’s a surprise.” Reynard answered mysteriously. “Pick you up at seven. The problem is, where?”

“I’ll be just outside Oceania café. Just wait for me there.”

“Okay Miss Randolph. I don’t know why you have to keep the hotel you’re staying in a secret, but okay. At seven then.” He hung up. Ata glances up and saw the clock hanging on the wall. 6 p.m. already. Ata grunted once and rushed to the bathroom; snatching a towel on her way.

Ata walked to the Oceania café; it was just across her hotel. She didn’t want Reynard to know, still; she was just afraid that if that Aisling girl knows, she could come in the middle of the night and stab a danger on Ata’s throat. Most unlikely, but Ata was a paranoid girl. Just as she reached the café, she could see Reynard’s figure already leaning on his jet black car, waiting for her. O no, busted! Reynard chuckled as she came near to him, “Wow, what a secret you have there. That’s where you’re staying right? Hotel La belle. Nice choice. Fancy, definitely.”

“Um. Yeah. Quite.” She admitted awkwardly. “Come on in.” he opened his car door and made a gesture for her to get inside. Ata smiled slightly and scooted in; she was most surprised to find Aisling not there. “Are we going to pick Aisling up next?” Ata asked curiously; she tried her best to sound eager, but she failed. Real bad. “O no. it’s a dinner for two, right? Or if you prefer, I can call Ais right now and tell her…” Reynard sounded confused and a little disappointed. Or at least that’s what Ata guessed. Before Reynard could even finish his line, Ata cut in, “No need. This is perfect.”

“Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Reynard. I had a great time.” Ata said as she went out of Reynard’s opened car door. Reynard opened it for her. “You’re most welcomed. See you tomorrow afternoon for lunch?” Reynard invited. He just took her to a romantic candlelight dinner by the ocean and now he’s offering for a lunch date. A bold move.

“That’ll be lovely.” Ata said and hesitantly kissed Reynard’s cheek and turned her back to enter the hotel’s lobby. Reynard was left outside; wondering if…

***

“So, you know the places here well?” Ata asked.  “Quite well. Aisling actually knows this place even better than I do!” Reynard exclaimed. Aisling, Aisling and Aisling again. Why do many questions have to relate to her? Ata wondered. “O. Miss Crowford must be very close to you.” Ata muttered. “Not really. Aisling’s just a good company. Do you play chess?”

“Yes.”

“Speaking about chess, I just found out that Aisling aces at it! A week ago…” She let Reynard monologue, she wasn’t listening. Wasn’t even interested to. “So why isn’t Miss Crowford here anyway?” Her voice sharp yet annoyed. “She has something to do.”

“O,” Ata paused for a moment then continued, “Actually, I have something to do on my own. Um. See you soon.” Ata walked to the cashier register and paid both their lunches and went out the door.

The ocean wasn’t very calm that afternoon. Large rolls of wave crashes the shore often and sprays tiny droplets to Athenodora’s face. How refreshing after such an unimaginably horrible date. Reynard talks about Aisling Crowford all the time it made her sick. She didn’t even like the famous Miss Crowford. Ata saw her once and despised her immediately. Aisling Crowford’s cold blue eyes promised Ata no friendship. “I thought you had something urgent to do for running away from our lunch…” Reynard’s voice said. Ata turned and there he was, grinning widely. O great; Ata thought sarcastically. “I had an appointment. With the ocean.” Ata gave her excuse. Then she burst, “Did you follow me here!?”

“No. I just liked it here.” That calmed Ata immediately. “Why did you go?” Reynard’s voice sounded very sad and lonely. “I thought you’d like it better if we wrapped it up quickly so you can go see Miss Crowford.” Ata admitted. Reynard sighed and held both Ata’s shoulders, “Ata, please look at me.” And Ata obeyed. “Miss Crowford and I are just friends.”

“But you seemed to like her. So much. You talk about her all the time.”

“Ah. Let me tell you that Miss Crowford is a widow and is three years older than me.”

“A widow? You’re lying.”

“It’s all truth, Ata. She’s my father’s accountant. Her husband just remarried and divorced her; she’s here for my dad’s business. And I’m here for vacation. Since we’re on the same destination, my dad thought it was best for us to go together.”

“You seem to have grown attached to her.”

“O yeah? And why would I do this then?”

“Do wha?” before she could finish, Reynard had already squatted to match her seating level and pressed his lips on hers. For those intense seconds, Ata couldn’t focus on anything else but drown into the kiss. When he finally let go, Ata’s head was spinning all over. “Sorry to do that… you know, without permission. If you hate me from now, well at least I know why.” He grinned, although his eyes were apologetic. He stood from his squatting position. Ata, who was sitting, also stood and leaned closer to Reynard playfully. “Hate you? You’re kidding me.”

She said, then straightened up and smiled. She could feel blood rushing to her cheeks immediately. And her breath pacing, as if competing with her racing heartbeat. That was the first time; her heart that belonged to the ocean for so long has finally been retrieved for the man in front of her.

Three years from that day, Athenodora turned into Mrs. Mont. The newly wedded Monts had their reception in a famous cruise ship, De Eliza. Yes, Reynard Mont was one of the richest artists in the world. They lived very happily for five years in a countryside area. They even had a baby daughter, her name was Ersvinne Mont. After six years of the birth of Ersvinne, Reynard Mont died of heart attack. And Ata never went to the ocean again.

***

“Ersvinne, dear. Why don’t you take this old mother of yours for a walk?” Ata called. A smile decorated her withered face. Ersvinne has already turned into a fine lady; fair skin, auburn hair, large brown eyes from Reynard and dimples. “I’ll even take you to see the ocean today.” Ersvinne murmured jokingly. “You know what? I’ll even let you today.”

“Mom.” Her daughter called. Athenodora glanced up and spotted her teenage daughter smiling brilliantly at her. She handed Ata a drink. “Thanks dear.” Ata smiled. Her daughter sat beside her, “You missed dad.” She murmured. Ata nodded, “Of course I do. Don’t you?” her daughter; Ersvinne, mumbled back a ‘yes’. The chilly night air doesn’t bother Ata anymore; she’s just very used to it. Her house was near the ocean; but she hasn’t once visited the ocean after her husband died. The ocean was Athenodora’s first true love. And now her heart has returned to the ocean; o beloved ocean. The heart has returned to where it once belonged. The ocean.

“Mom?” Ersvinne called her mother whose body had sunk into the wheelchair. Ersvinne peeped from the side to see if her mother was awake. Ata’s eyes were closed but a sincere smile was on her face. The smile was mutual; a smile also bloomed on Ersvinne’s face. Finally, her mother met her love again. After all the years she locked herself away from the ocean, at her last minutes, they were reacquainted. Finally, at her last breath, Athenodora smelt the strong smell of salt and heard the sounds of seagulls. Finally the heart of the ocean returned for ever more. De cour de la mer…..

Fin