Andini grabbed a towel from a stack beside the drying room next to the kitchen and went off towards the bathroom to bathe, even as she continued to intone “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!” which was making her brother feel increasingly irritated.
Aji looked at the wall clock. It was now 1:30. Suddenly he felt a throb of pain in his head, as if he had a pinched nerve. He felt his eyeballs being pulled in all directions. This had to be a psychosomatic reaction to Rama’s announcement, her realized. Rama’s heart must be set on marrying this daughter of the director of a state-owned company. If not, then why did he want to introduce his parents to them?
“Iraaaah!” Aji suddenly shouted.
Mbak Irah, who had just finished putting away the food from their lunch, scurried into the room. She had never heard her Pak Aji shout so loudly before.
“Please heat me some milk.”
“Yes, sir.”
For his father to want a glass of warm milk was a sign that he wasn’t feeling well—which made Rama feel distinctly ill at ease. Then, as his father kneaded his temples with his fingers, Rama became even more reluctant to continue his unfinished announcement. His mother came into the room carrying a glass of warm milk. The look she gave him told him that he was not to do anything to make his father more upset.
“Would you like to lie down and rest?” Retno asked Aji.
Aji drank the glass of milk, one sip after another. Gradually, the throbbing in his head began to subside and his stomach feel settled and warm again. Retno sat down beside her husband on the couch. Both braced themselves to hear unpleasant news. Finally, Retno nodded towards Rama, who was seated across the coffee table from them.
“I know this is all of a sudden…” Rama began.
“What’s all of a sudden?”
“Well, this meeting I mentioned.”
“What is it you’re saying, Rama? You’re just asking us to meet Rininta’s parents, aren’t you?”
“Well, not just to meet them, Papa. There’s also…”
“Masya Allah!” Aji quickly gulped the rest of his glass of milk. Milk dripped from the glass and dribbled from his lips.
Retno stared at her son, suddenly finding a headache coming on as well. “So what you’re saying is…”
“What I’m saying is that Rininta and I intend to get married, sometime before the end of the year.”
“Ohmygod, ohmygod!” came the shriek of Andini’s voice from the bathroom followed by a gale of laughter. How could she hear them speak when she was taking a bath?
“Just a second here…” Retno was becoming upset. “You haven’t been to this house in more than a year and now you’re telling us that you’re going to marry your director’s daughter. Am I hearing this right?”
“But it’s still a long ways off, Mama. The end of the year.”
Aji continued reclining against the back of the couch, a mustache of milk on his upper lip, as he stared forward in a daze. Retno took a tissue from the dispenser on the coffee table and wiped her husband’s lip.
“The important thing here is not when you’re going to get married,” Aji said in a slow and even voice. “If you want to get married tomorrow, that’d be fine with me. What’s important is whether or not, when you started to date Rininta and then came to be accepted by the Priasmoro family, they knew who we are.”
Rama’s face grew pale. He hardly knew what to say next. He was coming to the most difficult part of his mission.
Andini came into the room to join the family circus with a towel wrapped turban-like around her freshly washed hair. She put her hands on her hips as she faced her brother.
“Is she pregnant?”
Andini look very much like their mother, with fair skin, a pointed chin, and small eyes. They also both had long straight hair. But unlike their mother, when Andini spouted those sharp words, she resembled, in Rama’s eyes, a she-devil.
“Of course not,” Rama growled.
Andini undid her towel and patted her hair, spattering her brother’s face with water.
“Well, then, answer Papa’s question,” she demanded. “Does your girlfriend’s family know that ours is categorized by the government as coming from an unclean environment? That we are an E.T. family? And you know I’m not talking about ‘extra-terrestrial’ or ‘entertainment tonight.’ E.T.—Eks Tapol—former political prisoner! Do you understand? Even though Om Dimas was never arrested and never imprisoned either, his name is the same. He’s an E.T. too, a former…”
“Yes, God damn it, I know!” Rama yelled at his sister.
With her wet hair unkempt and in a mess, Andini remained steadfast. Her small eyes bulged, just like their mother’s did when she was angry.
“And who the hell are you to shout at me? You disappear for years and now suddenly show up wanting to get married because you feel the need for a family. Where were we all this time!? And now you’re swearing at me?!”
Rama said nothing, but he could not check his rising emotion. He too felt like his pride had been stamped on. Rama didn’t know how to explain this to his family, but he had never wanted to deceive either his friends or the family of his girlfriend.
Aji guessed what his son was thinking. “So, the problem now is that you’ve never told them about your family background. For all the years you’ve dated Rininta, you intentionally hid our identity…”
Rama bowed his head. For Aji and Retno that was the answer: Rama had concealed his family’s identity. Even though Rama didn’t say it out loud, Aji, knowing his son’s character, knew that what Rama most wanted was for his family to bury its history and life story as deeply as possible.
Aji stood and excused himself, saying that he wanted to lie down. Andini looked at her brother like he was a paddy snake, good only for being chopped in two with a machete. Retno stood, her body suddenly stooped with disappointment. She went to the kitchen, her place of consolation.
“Mama…”
Rama’s mother shook her head, not wanting to talk any more—or at least for the time being. Andini returned to her bedroom and a few seconds later the combined sound of a hair dryer and the music of Deep Purple bounced off the walls of her room. Rama sat in the living room by himself.
Rama had assumed that there would be some emotional upset and uproar when he made his announcement, but he had never thought that his father would end the meeting in silence. How could he fight back or argue when his conversational opponent wouldn’t say a word?
Four years earlier, when Rama decided to take the job at Cita Karya, he knew he would have to erase his family history, at least temporarily. That he was able to get away not using the name Suryo and then pass the security clearance without his family background being looked into too carefully had been a minor miracle. When compared to the situation a decade before, the issue of a “clean environment” had greatly subsided. Nonetheless, the policy was still official and very actively enforced in a number of professional fields, especially public-related work: teachers, government religious officials, journalists, and, of course, the military—fields where it was thought that those who were “unclean” might influence the masses. He knew that a number of Alam’s friends who worked for the mass media were only able to do so by using pseudonyms.
Rama was just an accountant whose job was dealing with figures. Even so, he didn’t want to take the risk. That he had met and fallen in love with the daughter of a company director now presented a large and very personal risk.
Rama closed his eyes and, without knowing it, nodded off for a time on the sofa.
The sun crossed the sky so quickly that it was early evening when Rama awoke. Through partially opened eyes, he could see the blurred form of his father seated before him, staring at him with a look that could have sliced open his heart. Opening his eyes wider, he saw in the light of his father’s eyes a combination of sadness, disappointment, and chagrin. Rama slowly pulled his body up and into a sitting position until he was facing his father.
“Rama…” his f
ather began with a tremble in his voice.
“Yes, Papa?”
“I just want to say that I will not stand in the way of you pursuing a future with anyone who is good and loves you. But I will not condone you lying to the world about our family’s identity. This means you have two choices…”
Aji intentionally paused to take a breath; he was not used to issuing ultimatums. Rama’s entire body went rigid.
“You must either tell Rininta’s family about your family or propose to her on your own. If you can’t do that, your mother and I will not be involved in your wedding.”
Rama looked at his father wordlessly. He’d never thought his father would make such a threat.
“At my age, I’m not willing to be part of your lying games or keeping my head tucked down.”
“But that’s what we’ve been doing all our lives!” Rama suddenly shouted, unable to restrain himself any longer. His voice was so loud, Retno rushed into the room and quickly sat down beside her husband.
Now it was Aji who was angry: “Keeping your head down from the military and the government is one thing, but asking us to keep our head down from your future wife and in-laws is the same as asking us to lie! Do you think that when one day your father-in-law finds out about your family history he’s going to respect you? Do you think he’ll understand why you concealed your past the entire time you were dating his daughter?”
“He doesn’t need to know.”
Aji shook his head. “You’re so confused, you’re not thinking straight. It would be better for you to tell them straight out. I am sure that if Rininta’s father, this boss of yours, is a good man, he will not have a problem with it. What’s past is past, and this is no longer the time for judging people by their family history but more by their heart and soul and their daily actions.”
“But Pak Pri is a stickler for regulations,” Rama said in a shrill voice. “I know not much attention is paid anymore to the issue of a ‘clean environment,’ but some ministries and state companies still require a security clearance. I completely agree that the time has passed for categorizing people like that, but I’m still not comfortable in being frank about it.”
“Well then, that’s your problem, not ours,” Aji said in an equally high voice. “If, from the beginning, you had been open with Rininta and her family, you would have been able to judge whether she and they would be good for you. Whether they could accept you as you are—just as you must accept them for what they are.”
“Rama, I’d just like to say…” Retno, who had always tried to be accommodative to Rama, now tried to instill some clear thinking into him. “I think it’s normal for a company or institution to check a person’s background to ascertain their professional skills or to see if they have a criminal record. And even then, I feel, a person always deserves a second chance. But all this time—and this is what doesn’t make any sense—our only fault is our link to Dimas. Isn’t that right? And why is it a fault when he didn’t even do anything wrong?” She sighed. “Oh, well, maybe we can’t do anything about that; but for as long as we live, there is going to be a brand on our forehead: “political prisoner family.” And now you are entering a circle of people who view our relationship with Dimas with contempt, as a historical defect. How long will you be able to keep up your act with your future wife and in-laws? If your marriage begins with a lie, what kind of future home will you ever be able to build?”
Aji looked with admiration at his wife. Her argument was brilliant. Rama swallowed. “I’ve given the matter a lot of thought, Mama. When the time comes, I will open up to Rininta and tell her who I am.”
“But Dini is right, Rama. Nobody likes to be deceived.”
“I’m not deceiving anyone, Mama. I just don’t feel the time is right to tell all. I think you and Papa should be glad that Rininta is able to accept me for…” Rama suddenly stopped speaking.
“Accept you for what, Rama?” Retno demanded. “Finish your sentence! Why do you always insist on thinking of yourself as inferior?”
Rama couldn’t continue his sentence. Compared with his father’s sharp cry, his mother’s roar was that of an angry lion. He had to ease the tension. He had to succeed in his mission of getting his family to accept a dinner invitation at the Priasmoro family home.
“You know that I don’t have any problem with our immediate family. The problem is Om Dimas whose wacky politic views put us in this position in the first place…”
“Hello! Anybody home?” came the sound of a voice which caused Rama’s heart to jump to his neck. He looked around to see Alam and Bimo coming into the living room. With them was a stiking-looking Eurasian woman. Retno immediately stood up and gave both Alam and Bimo a warm hug. Rama looked on with a sour face but, for the moment, at least, the previous tension had subsided. “Lintang, this is Rama, the cousin you’ve only ever known by name. Rama, this is Om Dimas’s daughter.”
Retno put her hand on Rama’s shoulder, a signal for him to stand and to shake hands with Lintang.
Rama stood and tried to smile. Lintang shook his hand and then kissed his cheeks three times—first the right, then the left, then the right again.
“That’s how we do in Europe!” she said.
Everyone laughed and invited the others to sit down. The ensuing conversation revolved around the subjects of the demonstrations, the price of fuel which was slated to rise the following Monday, and the president’s upcoming trip to Cairo.
Retno noticed how flushed Lintang looked. “How have your interviews been going?” she asked her niece. “Have you had any luck?”
“It’s been much harder than I thought.” Lintang glanced at Alam and Bimo. “It looks like I’ll have to follow their advice and try to be more patient.”
“I’m sure it will work out,” Alam said with a smile. “If it’s difficult tying down the others, she can interview my mother first. That will be the easiest.”
“Your mother? That will be the hardest one, I bet,” Bimo joked. They all laughed, thinking of how prickly Alam’s mother could be with the foreign journalists who frequently asked to interview her.
As the others continued their conversation, Rama contributed little, somewhat miffed that his own conversation had been interrupted. Just then, the phone rang, and later Andini came into the living room.
“Hi, Lintang! Did you just get here? Your mother is on the phone,” Andini said.
“Is something wrong?” Aji interupted to ask.
Lintang waved her hand dismissively. “I’m sure she just wants to know how I’m doing. Don’t worry,” she said to her uncle, “Maman is always checking on me.”
Lintang stood and went to the telephone stand in the back. Alam and Bimo then began to talk of how all the university student organizations and NGOs in the city were united and ready to move. “Even the private universities have lined up: Trisakti, Indonesian-Christian, and Atmajaya,” Alam said, looking at Rama when he said it because Rama was an alumnus of Trisakti. Rama showed no reaction.
“Almost all of the universities are setting up free-speech platforms on their campuses to discuss the increase in fuel prices,” Bimo added as he stole a look at Rama as well.
Lintang returned to the room to join the circle with a serious look on her face.
“What is it, Lintang?”
“Maman called to ask about the news, but also to tell me that Ayah is having problems with his liver and that he’s refusing to go to the doctor. She wants me to give him a call.”
Aji gave Lintang a look of concern. “What’s wrong with his liver?”
“A few weeks back, Ayah collapsed at the Metro station,” she started to explain. “He went to the hospital for tests and had everything checked out, and they gave him some medicine to take.”
“And so?”
“He’s in out-patient care for now, but it looks like he needs to go back in again. To tell you the truth, I don’t know what’s wrong. I never saw the results of the tests, and Ayah refuses to talk about his
health.” Lintang conveyed this news with a heavy look.
“Still as hardheaded as ever,” Aji muttered. “Well, I’ll give him a call. You three can have dinner here tonight,” he then added, looking at Lintang, Alam, and Bimo in turn. Then he stood and asked Rama to follow him into the dining room.
Once in the dining room, he reminded Rama what he had told him earlier. “Remember this, Rama: you have two choices.”
“I want to marry Rininta,” Rama said to his father. “And all I want from you and Mama is for you to be my parents.”
“And all I want from you is to be my son—to admit to being the son of Aji Suryo and the nephew of Dimas Suryo.”
Aji then went to the telephone stand, intending to call his brother.
“Wait, Papa!” Rama said loudly, stopping his father from picking up the telephone receiver.
Aji turned back. “Is there something else?” “I also came here to invite you to a dinner with Rininta’s parents.”
“When?” Aji asked with a frown.
“Tomorrow, Papa. For the whole family. I’m sorry it’s so sudden. They told me last week but I didn’t come before because…”
“Because you weren’t sure whether you wanted to invite your family,” Aji stated. He didn’t know whether to be angry, insulted, or disappointed. Maybe it would best if he could feel nothing at all. Wasn’t he already immune to emotion? Aji glanced at the calendar but all he could think of was that this was the end of a peaceful weekend. He took a deep breath. He knew that his wife, even if she were angry or upset, would still try her best to accommodate her son’s wishes.
“Ask your mother. I have just two requirements: one, that you tell them about us, and two, that Lintang comes along.”
“But, Papa…”
“Lintang will come with us. She’s family too!” With that said, Aji left Rama standing alone in his confusion. At the moment he felt it far more important to call his brother and persuade him to go to see the doctor than to deal with his son’s personal issues.
Rama bowed his head. How was he going to explain his family history to his girlfriend and her family before the next evening?
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