The toughest choice

Darma will never dare raise his face in front of Sumini. For him, Sumini's anger is a natural thing because Darma has not been able to make Ajeng happy all this time. His heart hurts every time he hears the words of insults that are so spicy and sharp that they pierce his chest when Sumini scolds him or Ajeng.

However, Darma will not be able to reply every word which Sumini says. Silence and silence, that's all Darma can do while hoping for a miracle to make him look proud in front of Sumini's parents. Sometime Darma hope, one time he can be considered worthy of being a father to theirson and no longer belittled in front of Dewantara.

"Honey," called Sumini with glancing at Darma after her mother left.

"I don't know why I think it might be better if you accepte Nyimas Randu's offer. Maybe, my mother will no longer say harsh words in front of you." Ajeng muttered so softly from the doorway where she stood looking at her husband who always insulted by her Mom.

Darma looked up, not believing how his wife could say that. What is the purpose of the wealth and throne offered by Nyimas if, in the end, there is a sacrifice of life that must be sacrificed for their happiness? False happiness is only seen in the eyes of ordinary people who see, but not necessarily the real happiness they will get later.

"Come on, Beib. Your mom has always been like that, has't she? Don't think about that. I'll take a shower first," said Darma with lethargic steps, walking around the house because he often entered through the back door so he could immediately reach the bathroom and clean himself before entering the house.

"Be patient, Honet," muttered Ajeng, looking at her husband's back.

Immediately, Ajeng closed the door when she felt a gust of wind with the scent of flowers piercing her nose. Actually, Darma was not the only one who felt that Nyimas Randu was being followed.

After the incident, Darma shivered with a fever after meeting Nyimas Randu for the first time. Ajeng also often felt the scent of flowers piercing her nose. Moreover, during her heated struggle with Darma, the scent of flowers continued to surround her. The fragrance that sometimes turns into a rancid smell of crushed Kapok leaves. One bad thought made Ajeng suspect that Nyimas Randu was still following her husband.

"Let's enjoy it, Honey." Ajeng said with opening two packs of rice for herself and her husband, while keeping the other for Dewan. Darma already looks fresher after bathing. The two of them chose to eat on the bamboo bed in the front room, with the door left wide open.

"Yeah, Amir is my best friend. She give us two pack of rice. Come on enjoy it together," said Darma who already looks fresher after bathing.

They ate by occasionally chatting about Dewan and his new bicycle that Masiti had given him. Ajeng also did not forget to tell them about Dewan's Pencak Silat training, which made their son wake up regularly before dawn, as well as Dewan's new activities, which always went to mosque at midday, in the afternoon, and at dusk.

"What exactly is Dewan doing there, Beib?" asked Dharma.

"In the morning Dewan practised martial arts; in the afternoon it was duhuran; in the afternoon, asaran. When the sun rises in the evening, it is evening. Reading the book is the same as isaan Mas," explained Ajeng, answering her husband's question.

"What is duhuran, asaran, or maghriban?"

Ajeng shrugged her shoulders. She also didn't understand some of the words that Dewan often said.

"Bu Masiti said it was carrying out Islamic religious orders, Honey. Similar to what Dewan used to say. But I don't understand about it. My mother and father never taught me the Al-Quran," admitted Ajeng with a wry smile which Darma agreed with a nod.

"Yes, you're right. Neither did I learn to recite theAl-Qur'an. The mosque is far away in the district. There were no smart people here before. I think it's good, as long as Dewan is doing positive things, so be it."

They did not feel the yellow rice they had eaten. Ajeng was about to go to the kitchen. However, the sound of shouts outside calling for her and her husband made Ajeng relent and turn towards the front door.

"Ajeng, Darma, Ajeng."

"Yes Mr. Sanaji, why?" asked Ajeng, seeing the village guard who shouted for him with sweat on his face accompanied by Sanaji's breath that was running out of breath.

"Dewanl, Ajeng, your son. The head board is leaking. Now the village head is taking him to the clinic."

"What? Dewan's head is leaking?" Darma asked who immediately caught Ajeng's limp body and almost fell if he didn't catch her quickly.

*

"Honey, Dewan's hospital fees must be paid immediately. I saw a total of almost is five million. That's a lot. Where did the money come from?" complained Ajeng in front of the Dewan's treatment room.

According to Raga, yesterday afternoon he, Dewan, and other friends were indeed racing bicycles when they returned from the Mosque. However, when Dewan was about to turn, there was a very fast motorcycle coming from the opposite direction.

The collision was unavoidable until the body that bounced made his head hit a large rock until it leaked. However, my goodness, the crasher ran and was irresponsible. Even Darma and Ajeng, who followed Sanaji to the clinic but they ould not find Dewan there because the village head brought Dewan in the clinic's car to the hospital, which was far away from the city. Finally, Darma asked Amir for help and took them to the hospital in his new car.

"Last night I asked Pak Harto for a credit, Beib," said Darma in a languid voice.

"What did he say, Honey?"

"He doesn't want to lend me his money." Darma's head shook weakly, then he lowered his head, looking at his jet black toes with orange nails because they were often buried in the mud of the rice fields.

"Oh my God, how is this, Honey?" Ajeng looked hard at thinking. Who else would they ask for help?

For villagers like them, five million was not a small amount. That's a lot, and they don't know where they got it from. Darma suddenly remembered the offer from Nyimas Randu, the queen of the Randusewu palace, whom he rarely visited because Darma often had goosebumps when he sat under the big Kapok tree.

"Ajeng, I'm leaving for a while. Please take care of Dewan and wish me luck that tomorrow morning I can bring money for hospital fees," said Darma, very lethargic.

"Where are you going? It's already late if Pak Harto doesn't want to give a loan. Who else will you complain to?"

"Where do you think I should go?" asked Darma, who was also still unsure about his intentions.

Ajeng seemed to think before she voiced a tough choice. "Nyimas Randu. I don't want to lose Dewan. Any other choice beside come to her place? "