Sad night in mid-July. Matthew wiped the windshield of the car which was blown by the wind because the car air conditioner was off. Outside it was raining heavily, as if suddenly pouring from a giant bucket in the sky. Rainwater the size of a corn seed which is certainly very painful when it hits the skin. In the dim light, he could see the rain like a row of arrows hitting the earth. Some hit their windshields and made a "clack" sound. It was noisy, and it made Matthew's heart even more cloudy.
He made his car enter the Vasio Central Business District--- by way of Santruk Street from the east. Matthew looked left and right trying to find passengers. He was careful not to damage the tram line that bisected the street right in the middle. Trams run this route every half hour, even at night. On the right and left side of the road, you can see hundreds of lamps hanging from dry tree branches. Row, replace leaves that have withered a lot. The atmosphere is like Christmas Eve. Rousing. But Jalan Santruk is indeed the busiest street, and such an atmosphere is common every day. Foreign tourists who come here must think today is Christmas. They'll be surprised when they don't find the words "Merry Christmas! Sorry, we're closed!" hanging in the shop window.
Matthew slowed down as he passed the Hotel Le Cosien which was almost next to the Violet Towers Observation Deck. There are already many other taxis waiting for passengers. Inwardly Matthew complained.
He drove his car past the boutiques selling quality imported goods. Matthew tried not to glance to his right. Still, his eyes couldn't get past the Persian rug hanging from Helsinki's window. Beautiful dark green rug with decorative ornaments. Intricate and tiny flowers resembling Lilly flowers. Surely it costs no less than seven hundred dollars. And he started to wonder...
Ahhhkk, Matthew hastily pushed his thoughts away. He was not born of a wealthy person. Just remembering that made him sad. Why is it difficult for humans to think rationally when dealing with their desires?
Chit!!!! Suddenly he braked the car. A man who seemed to be in a drunken state was staggering, crossing the road right in front of the lip of his car. The distance was so thin, it made Matthew hold his breath. The cars behind him were stuck. Form a long line. One by one they honked. Irritated because the car in front of him stopped suddenly. Luckily no one got hit.
Matthew tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Fast!" Matthew shouted at the man. His hand is symbolized outward. The open window made it drenched in rain. Part of his long-sleeved shirt was wet.
But the man seemed to ignore Matthew's words. He seemed really drunk. He walked and strolled as he pleased, as if the road belonged to him. Traffic on the road is getting congested. The drunk man walked like a snail.
Right in the middle of the road he was silent.
Tin... Tiiin..... Tiiiiiiiiin!!!!!
Pleaseee...! Matthew covered his ears. The cars behind him made a lot of noise. Concert horns make people walk under umbrellas with bags filled with (bourgeois) groceries, said Matthew, also turning his head. But they returned indifferent. Some people seemed sympathetic, but they still didn't try to help. A woman in a wool coat --- not knowing how many sheep she had sheared to make them --- looked at her. Then he put on a disgusted face. She dreaded the thought of her delicate hands touching a drunken man in shabby clothes.
'Where are the police when needed?!?!' Matthew took a deep breath.
Finally Matthew took the initiative. He opened the car door ignoring the rain that hit him. He grabbed the man's arm and took him aside.
"Hah... hah... hah... hahh..., Mr. driver... You fool, the car is parked in the middle of the road!" said the drunk man. He took out a silver bottle from under his leather jacket. He swallowed it immediately. But soon he cursed as not a single drop came out.
With a grin, the man handed Matthew a bottle of Sherry.
"Want Sherry, young man? My wife said I can't drink too much! I'm going to get drunk, sob! He... he... he..., you think I'm drunk?"
Matthew didn't answer, he took the man aside. Sometimes the man wouldn't obey, so Matthew had to drag him down. The man limped and kept on babbling. He lifted his head so his mouth was very close to Matthew's. The smell of alcohol gave Matthew a headache.
"Hey .... quickly you pull over the car!" shouted someone whose car was in the back of Matthew's taxi. Matthew's car was still blocking the road.
Matthew looked away. Those people didn't even thank me. Or maybe they didn't know Matthew was trying to sort things out?
"Where are you going, young man?" the drunk man asked. He sat Matthew on the bus stop bench. His hands were placed on the iron-grilled fence. Matthew wished he had handcuffs to make sure he didn't let go of her grip.
"Where are you going?"
"Back home!" replied Matthew curtly.
"Wow…, your wife must be beautiful huh? Not like my wife. If tomorrow morning he's fat again, his body will definitely be like a donut! Ha ha ha ha. .. ha ha..!!"
Matthew was interested. But he knew, smiling probably wasn't something he would do at a time like this. He immediately ran to his car. Covering his head with his hands. Matthew could get dizzy if his hair was too wet from the rain.
The drunk man called out to him. But Matthew didn't care.
Matthew's shirt was soaking wet like an unopened mop, clinging tightly to his body. The cold gave him goosebumps.
Matthew rushed to his car, after looking back and finding a long line of cars. Long as a snake, twinkling like a firefly, and noisy of course.
"Back home!"
Yes....because his clothes were soaking wet. Or he will catch a cold.
"Hah...hah...hah...hah...hahh..., your wife must be pretty, right?"
Matthew couldn't help but smile, remembering the drunken man's joke. Only this time did he agree with the drunken man's words.
He turned his car around a small alley, turned around, and returned to where he had first arrived. Crossroads before entering Jalan Santruk. Then he walked towards the north.
Back home. He had found another reason to hurry home. The face that is always in his wallet. Matthew smiled to himself. Even without seeing the photo, he would always be able to imagine it.
Vera.