SKULLCAP
1. Trapped Situation
...1.1. Trapped Situation...
Low rumbles of voices filled the streets of protocol. At some point, police in uniform complete with bulletproof vests, safety helmets, batons and clear glass shield. But also seen some of the police wearing a black shield that clearly reads “polisi” on the front. They lined up neatly and tightly like congregational prayer shafs.
While the masses who do longmarch out of nowhere look enthusiastic even though the sun is still stinging. Adjoin. Seemingly. Kompak echoed the spirit-burning narrative.
They seem to consist of a few students. Proven from the alma mater jacket worn. No stranger. And of course very familiar, if the alma mater jacket from the campus is also in the middle of the crowd.
Then, there are some motorcade that also runs slow. They wear headbands. Carry each other's vehicles with each other. Like parades. Cheering, I don't know what was said. Sounds like a hum.
He turned his head. Look back. Not much different from the situation on the left-right and as far as the eyes look ahead. Even more boisterous and denser by the masses that came from nowhere. It's been countless.
The more advanced the speed of the motor he was riding the slower the speed. Still outclassed by the pedestrian motorcade. Because the road is getting narrower and blocked by people who continue to lunge forward following the car in front there. Car with open tub. On it was a stage containing several people. Then sayup-sayup heard the appeal from the hardener funnel.
Demonstrations like this have been seen several times. But more often he saw through television broadcasts. For a lifetime until now, he had never attended events like this. Although at the time of becoming a freshman, he was once forced to protest the policy of the rector who was considered deviant through the demonstration, but it did not last until the masses were dissolved. He chose to flee. And always avoid any invitation of activist friends to conduct a protest speech against an injustice or deviation.
He said he had good reason not to participate in such activities. After all, one voice and his attitude will not have much effect on a change. And of course, he was busy with his lectures. He wants to finish college on time. Yes, even if it eventually misses. Because, he was forced to rewind his target in order to care for his mother who was sick lately.
“Mbak ...”
It was all a choice for his friends. He never defended himself or denied his activist friends who chose that path. For all are the choices of each one who must be respected by each other. He chose his path. Neutral. Although yes, one, two, three friends once sneered at his decision not to participate in these activities.
“Mbak ... Mbaknya sure still want to Juanda?” ask the taxi driver who drove him this afternoon to see his script supervisor.
He wiped away the sweat that had flooded his face. Accompanied by a heavy exhale imagining today's plan doesn't seem to be going smoothly. It might even fail. “Iya, Sir. Keep going,” break it up. There was a doubtful tone due to the rate of movement of the motor faltering. The situation is getting hustle and bustle.
But when else. The opportunity to meet with his mentors is very rare. It's rare, famous killer anyway. Predicate as a lecturer child on the same campus does not change his status to “anak gold”. Or at least get the privilege. No. gabe. He didn't get it at all. Precisely being a teaching child on campus is increasingly burdened. His father's big name has always been a shadow.
His breathing felt heavy again. He scratched the rim of his head which was partially covered by a helmet, when the driver completely stopped the speed of his motorbike. Pretty long. They're restrained.
“Mbak, I don't think I can send it until Juanda. The direction of the palace is all closed. This terrible jam. I'm afraid I can go through this mah ..”
“But, Mr. ..” had a moment. But in the end he had to get off the bike. Despite the weight he reached for his money in a bag of black jeans worn. Handing over a piece of money worth twenty thousand rupiahs. The driver accepted it.
“Keep me to where it goes up what, sir?” That innocent question just came out of his mind. While his head was wryly looking at the situation around him that was getting denser, stuffy pollution and severely jammed. Gradually the worry was perfectly enveloping him. Brow shriveling. Imagining Professor Gunadi's unfriendly face. The very famous merciless discipline.
The stature of a thick and long mustache curved upwards like an old bicycle handlebar it will definitely dip more sharply. Eyelash fur joined between his eyes must also conical because the forehead shrivels. Not to mention the words that came out of the professor's mouth that were flat yet sharp like a dagger. Intimidated. Directly to the heart.
His fur stood up immediately. Enough once he got the consequences of being late to follow the lecturer of his guidance counselor.
He saw the watch on his left arm. Five minutes from his meeting with Prof Gunadi. Just 1 minute late, he was very sure not to be accepted for guidance.
The driver of the ojeg who has received the money, then asked for a helmet that is on his head with a pointing. He smiled wryly, forced to return it.
The driver shrugged his shoulders covered in a dull black thick leather jacket, “Pause tomorrow,” his mouth before turning back the bike. The driver insisted on the road splitting the density among the crowd.
“Lho ..Pa, Sir.” His lips were pursed in annoyance. But he could not hold back that driver who passed against the direction among the crowd who kept pressing forward. Fail. He had to decide to abandon his intentions. Received the advice of the driver ojeg.
He tried to walk to the side out of the crowd. Unfortunately, he was pushed from behind. Despite trying again to pull over, the current of pressure continued to creep and force him to walk forward.
“Excuse me, excuse me. Excuse me—“
“For Mbak. Onward! Don't stop!” get someone. Then followed by another male voice that said “Let's go forward..keep going! Don't stop the pity behind.”
While the hardener funnel of the command car echoes yel-yel:
“United-unbeatable students.”
Welcomed the masses with a flaming spirit and cohesiveness. Then continued with the song Indonesia Raya and the song Totality of Struggle. A song that students always sing when fighting for justice.
The sweat is no longer blocked. Clothes wet. He began to be overwhelmed to keep walking among the masses. His breathing began to feel tight. He even wet his lips and throat repeatedly.
I don't know what's going on up ahead. A moment of sounding eruption. Suddenly the mass from the front turned around. Something's out the protocol. Running in disorder.
“Shielded!” exclaim someone.
He saw the atmosphere was not conducive. Everyone ran away and sought refuge.
The sound of the eruption was heard several times. He was trying to find a safe place. Runs. Trying to pull over. Unfortunately, because he did not know what happened, he continued to run closer to the source of the eruption.
Frowsty. Breathing gasps. His eyes felt sore, watery and reddened.
He started coughing. While holding his stomach that feels nauseous. His sight began to blur. Limbung. However he could still feel his arm being pulled by someone.
“Na, your ideals changed again no?”
He shook his head, “I want to be a kindergarten teacher, Mas.”
The 22-year-old laughed. “When you TK said you wanted to be a dentist. Continuing first grade in SD he said he wanted to be a veterinarian. Second grade wants to be a chef. Two months ago he said he wanted to be a lecturer kayak abah. Last week I changed again to become an elementary school teacher. Now even the kindergarten teacher. Alamak ...,” he said while patting his eel.
“Indeed why if teacher TK?” his protest.
Makes the man laugh again. This time, however, his laughter was covered with his palm.
“Issh ... Mas Panca,” grunts him annoyed. “Kata Mbak Sapta because the salary of the teacher is small so teacher Kindergarten only, so do not bother.”
“Hahaha ..” Panca's laughter exploded instantly.
That was the last conversation with Panca one afternoon in the front yard of their house. Two days later he saw Panca standing in a command car voicing a speech on a television set.
“Na, study diligently yes, don't kayak Mas!”
“Why did Mas Panca order that? Is it because Mas Panca's grades are ugly?” sergeant. Because according to Mbak Sapta's story, his brother was almost in DO—drop out— because the value is bad.
Panca smiled as she rubbed her head.
“Issh ...” elaknya with head dodge.
“Just study diligently let kayak abah,” sahut Panca as it passes. Open fence. But before long he turned around while exclaiming, “Don't kayak Mas, Na!”
The message is always remembered. And always ringing in between the times of growth into adulthood.
“Build! Hey …! You hear me?”
His cheeks felt plumped.
“Do you want to die here?”
Slowly he tried to open his eyes. Just when his gaze had not been perfectly opened he felt that he saw Panca in front of him. A faint smile appeared when a hand removed the portable oxygen tube in his mouth.
“Mas Panca.”