Intersection<\/p>\n
M. Andhy Nurmansyah<\/p>\n
My father was sitting in his easy chair in the porch, doing
\nnothing. He did that every morning to drench himself in the first
\nlight of the sun for two hours. When the sun rose higher I could
\nsee the deep wrinkles on his face. They were too deep for the sun
\nto reach inside those lines. And I could see his flame was
\nbeginning to flicker out. My father, who was once a hard-working
\nperson, had become a weak man who needed someone, if only to wipe
\nhis beads of sweat. I didn't blame him and understood him well.
\nHe had been plunged into life's toughest phase.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to disturb him while he was sunbathing. I
\nthought it would be better for him to have a lot of rest. Since
\nhe'd had a stroke after my mother left us a year ago, he bore a
\nburden heavier than he could carry. But it wasn't the only thing
\nthat concerned me.<\/p>\n
For the last several months he had acted strangely and had
\nbecome more sensitive to my younger sister. He got angry easily
\nand looked uncomfortable whenever Mirnah, my younger sister, was
\naround him.<\/p>\n
"This is your tea and bread, Dad," Mirnah put his breakfast on
\nthe table. But he didn't answer and turned his face away to avoid
\nlooking at her. Mirnah ran to her room and slammed the door,
\ncrying. I was in the garage and thought, "It's happened again."<\/p>\n
I hurried after her.<\/p>\n
"I'll try to talk to him. Please Mirnah, be patient. I believe
\nhe had no intention to hurt you. We both know that he's been
\ndepressed because of his sickness. Please, stop crying and calm
\ndown," I tried to please her, though I knew it would not be easy
\nfor her to ease the pain of being rejected by her own father.<\/p>\n
"I just don't understand why father is doing this to me. Have
\nI done him wrong? Have I?" she asked, resting her head on my
\nshoulder.<\/p>\n
"No, you're not wrong and neither is he. He was just confused
\nby his condition. You are 19 now and must learn how to manage
\nthis situation calmly. You've done well so far and I'm proud of
\nyou."<\/p>\n
I did my best to soothe her. It wasn't an easy task because I
\nalso had to deal with my own feelings. I found it harder and
\nharder to accept this situation. Concealing my own emotions, I
\nwent to see my father.<\/p>\n
"Why did you do that to your own daughter? What's wrong with
\nher?" I asked calmly, but firmly. While sitting and waiting for
\nhis answer, I stared into his eyes, which showed no light of
\nlife, so hollow were they.<\/p>\n
"I believe what you did was unintended, but please Dad, don't
\ndo it again. She's still a child and still needs you as her guide
\nto become a mature woman," I continued in a steady voice. I
\nwanted to show him that I had grown up and was strong enough to
\nhelp him carry his burden.<\/p>\n
My father suddenly broke into a coughing bout; he was drenched
\nwith sweat and his breathing became difficult. Startled, I
\nfumbled in his pocket hastily to find his medicine. I took a pill
\nout from its bottle and helped him to swallow it. A few minutes
\nlater he was his normal self again. As soon as his breath resumed
\nits normal rhythm I carried him and laid him on his bed and made
\nsure he felt comfortable.<\/p>\n
That day was Sunday. The sun scorched the earth and everything
\non it. Even my heart melted in the heat. The day seemed to share
\nmy feelings and the heat reflected what was inside me. The hot
\nair was enveloping me, drowning me in the unfriendly heat and
\nthen left me panting.<\/p>\n
I went outside and sat abruptly on my father's easy chair. I
\nlit a cigarette, drew deeply and blew the smoke hard. I leaned
\nback against the chair, closing my eyes, trying to relieve myself
\nof the complexity of life.<\/p>\n
"Is he OK?" Mirnah approached me with dread.<\/p>\n
"He's much better now," I sighed uncomfortably.<\/p>\n
"Are you OK? Your breakfast's ready," she took a seat and
\nstared at me worriedly.<\/p>\n
"Thank you," I forced myself to smile.<\/p>\n
Darkness had fallen with the night some three hours earlier. I
\nhad had a shower about an hour ago but the unrelenting
\nheat in my room was starting to make my shirt wet again. I opened
\nthe door to my room to try to let a rush of air cool my body.<\/p>\n
My father and Mirnah had gone to bed when I started to cry. I
\ndidn't know why I cried that night. I just thought that it would
\nfeel much better for me to cry when my heart was loaded with
\nabsurdity. For a few minutes I felt I was a normal 25-year-old
\nboy who still missed his parents' warm touch. After I regained
\ncontrol of myself, I realized that indeed I wasn't strong enough.
\nAll this time I'd just pretended to be strong.<\/p>\n
"I hate you, really hate you," I moaned.<\/p>\n
My body stiffened. All my muscles tensed whenever I thought
\nabout her, my mother. I could feel the anger heating up the blood
\nin my head. My eyes were moist, but I quickly controlled my
\nemotion. At that time, I saw everything had gone wrong. I felt
\nthat my family life had begun to sink. A profound hatred,
\nstronger than sickness, had gripped my father: My sister had to
\nput up with an annoying father and I was trapped in between. My
\nlife was so full of complexity while my mother was having fun
\nwith her new life and family. These unpleasant facts sometimes
\nblurred my vision, preventing me from seeing everything else in a
\nbright light. The whole situation spooked me. I was afraid that I
\ncouldn't keep my strength to face it and deal with it. I was
\nafraid of running out of energy to stay in the middle of this
\nsituation as a lineman.<\/p>\n
Yes ... I had heard many sermons about being a fair and wise
\nman. Those sermons said when someone was able to put everything
\nin their proper place, he would be a fair and objective judge to
\nsolve anyone's problem. At first I thought I could be a referee
\nfor my own family. I wasn't sure anymore.<\/p>\n
I looked at the clock; it was 11:10 p.m., but my eyes refused
\nto close. I felt a pang of instant regret for not having a chance
\nto meet my mother before she went away. If I had arrived earlier
\nthat evening, I would have had a chance to see the face of the
\nman who "stole" my mother. Maybe "stole" was not the most
\nsuitable word, but that was what he'd done, stolen my mother's
\nheart. I had no other word to better describe what he'd done.<\/p>\n
He was my mother's boss, a widower with one little boy. Before
\nmy mother went away that evening, he'd never shown his face at my
\nhouse. I knew him only from his voice when he called my mother on
\nthe phone to ask about her work. I'd never thought before that my
\nmother was having an affair with him. She always treated us,
\nincluding my father, well all the time. I couldn't deny that my
\nparents' relationship had been in trouble since my father had
\nbeen out of work. But my parents always hid it before their
\nchildren. I still didn't understand why she'd left us. I knew her
\nas an old-fashioned woman who'd put loyalty before everything.
\nThis was what kept bothering me so much and no one could give the
\nideal answer but she, my mother.<\/p>\n
I wasn't sure what time I finally fell asleep on the sofa in
\nthe living room. Dawn in the eastern dome of the sky startled me
\ninto the changing of day. As dawn began to stretch its light
\narrogantly and banish the dew from sight, I knew a new day with
\nnew hope had arrived, and, of course, with it, new problems.<\/p>\n
I scooped a handful of water and washed my face. Mirnah had
\nbeen busy in the kitchen, as usual, preparing our breakfast. I
\nopened the door to my father's room slowly to avoid making it
\ncreak. He was still asleep. It was unusual for him, as he had
\nbeen advised by his doctor to sunbathe every morning and had
\nnever missed the opportunity.<\/p>\n
"Isn't he awake yet?" Mirnah asked me. And I could see that
\nshe her emotions were under control.<\/p>\n
"No, not yet. Why? Is his meal ready?" I asked her warmly.<\/p>\n
"No, but it will be soon. I've cooked his favorite food," she
\nsaid with a flat tone, but I was sure that she wanted me to know
\nshe loved father. Tears rolled down my face as I couldn't bear to
\nsee her sweet pure face. I held her tightly and kissed her head.<\/p>\n
"I know that you love him and, I assure you, he'll never hurt
\nyou again. Trust me, he loves you too."<\/p>\n
My heart was deeply touched and I couldn't speak anymore,
\nexcept for hugging her.<\/p>",
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