"Prangggg!!"
A sharp deafening sound suddenly killing the calming night. The gloomy old abode finally making its voice after of so many days in hush. The surface of the swamp flanked to the hut stirred in reflection of the full moon.
A figure came out of nowhere running towards the abode. The path was not a friendly friend. Stumbling upon the solid radix of the forest trees made the figure plunged, head first, kissing the wet ground. The figure sneered in agony. But adrenaline had taken its toll long ago, the pain that in any normal circumstances would cause a faint seemed as if a nip of fire ant. The figure got up on the feet and started sprinting again. More alert this time, of course.
"Abang!!" she shrieked cuddling the trembling 6 years old boy that faced a two-times of his height man looking very stern and ferocious. A crumb of broken ceramic plate spotted all over the floor. The boy stood still too frightened to move anywhere worrying to get cut by the sharp fragments or worst, to be slapped by the man before him.
"I told you so many times never set your foot in this house!" the man barked out. Several driblets came out from the man's mouth as in evening drizzle. Thanks to the rampant caries the man has lost his front fences.
"But I just wanted to give some foods to Atok. Pity him, he hasn't eat for so many days" the boy retorted slowly while looking sympathetically to the old man at the corner of the house.
"Shut up!. How dare you talk back to me!" once again the driblets spraying. Only this time, its double the amount of the previous.
"Abang. Don't be too harsh on him. He's only 6. And, he is right, Abah hasn't eat anything. Look at him" Senah trying to console her husband while at the same time budging slightly to the back afraid of her husband's free kick in the face. Deraman has always been known for his bad temper. And it got worst these days. Senah still remember vividly the current incident that had happened in surau few days back. The old nyatoh wall of the surau almost completely destroyed because of him. The reason was not big, in fact it was so silly Senah had to pinch herself so hard when she first heard about the story from Limah, the head of the woman's affair in Kampung Berembang.
The reason was Pak Jak accidentally stepped on the brand new leather BATA shoes of Deraman. Well, it was not really Pak Jak's fault as the non-stop raining since the passed last week made the land all wet and muddy. Of course, in a hurry with a vision of less than 1cm, Pak Jak would easily headbutted the slippery floor and ended up on top of Deraman's shoes. And to Senah, it was entirely Deraman's fault to wear those shoes to surau. Firstly, Deraman never went for any prayer in surau and secondly, who on earth would go to surau wearing leather shoes during raining season? Senah knew her husband very well. She knew the reason he went to surau that day was because no other than the shoes. Deraman will not satisfy if nobody complementing anything new about him. Of course one way to boast about the new leather shoes is to wear them to the surau even for Maghrib prayer in a pouring rain. Poor Pak Jak, since then he was not only keeping his distance to Deraman but he also bought a thicker than life glasses to wear on everyday.
"Senah, you don't interfere with my lesson to Sedi. I try to teach him to respect me as a father. And what kind of make-up are you wearing? It seems as if you put a mud in your face!" chattered Deraman incessantly.
Senah knew too well that kind of sarcastic question shouldn't be answered. She had her lesson, in hard and excruciating way. She will let him stop by himself.
"Go home both of you!" Deraman continued not even looking to the old man.
Senah and Sedi went down making their way out. Sedi felt a huge gush of disappointment. He broke into tears. He didn't understand why his father hated Atok so much. Atok is a good man. He always tells stories to Sedi. There were times Sedi lied to Deraman to come over to the old man's house. And there were times Sedi felt the old man as if his father's. The tears accelerated down the cheek hill.
The old man at the corner of the house slowly lifted his grey-haired head. The fold and furrows decorated his pale face telling unfinished stories of despair. As he looked plaintively in the gloomy dark of the night a tear dropped wetting the dry cheek.
