ompung and the sculptor

Ninety-one he is now. He had planned for her life, all has been reached. He never imagined he was in fact already enjoy. A grave was he prepared on the hill. And he imagined, his statue, bust, will be laid carefully over the cross section of Italian marble which sent his son from Turino. The statue will be placed just one step from the gates of his tomb.
Itself, enshrined in a silver-colored stone, it will look like live, cast a look of eternal gratitude of the valley, glorify the bay, and seemed to never stop worshiping the island which stretches across the mouth of the bay, somewhere in there. The island is created to tame the onslaught obak Indian Ocean. As high as anything. Hatta sedahsyat tsunami. For this reason, a small town in the bay feeding it will be eternal. He will only dissolve if all the land had perished.
A day in the week, he climbed the hill foot, stand with your feet firmly on an area where his body one day be immortalized. He imagined himself a finished stone, with eyes that never knew fatigue, looked away to ensure the skyline is still to be sealing the ocean, the island was still on guard, who massacred beach waves are still crashing, and the city down there remains a center of life that stimulates and heroic, though small.
"Amang oi, Amang," Mother, mother oi .. fantastic, his voice hissing fight with the wind-gerbangkan beard. "Already I looked up at New York from Twin Towers. I had seen a row of mountains of ice that never disaput liquid from the highest inn in Paro, Bhutan. But, under my nose ... Ah ... no peerless. What a beautiful view from here, "Ompung who stood firmly on his knees, his death was at the top of the hill, berkusip convince nobody but himself.
Slowly she drew breath, but in. Together breath, he swallowed the last wishes. Her heart was so lumpy. As if next week he was going to die. Therefore, by whatever way he wants his statue was placed exactly where he stands now, with eyes NANAP scenery ancestors. In the imagination, he imagined, when he was found dying, his spirit will dwell in the body of the statue. That way, the eyes and his heart will not fission-fission of the stretch of land below, a small town where he was born, the bay and the waves mingle place in childhood, so also the savior of the island.
Not because the sun was sepenggalah, so now, with unsteady step he dragged down the hill. There was a lump in her heart. "Rosa ...," he poured a pile of disappointment on that have a name. "Kusembah you, do patungku it. Please. This is the last request. Show that you really love me, this Amangmu. I want to see the statue of yours before I die. Sweet my son, why do not you do as well ...? "Persuasion that he repeat, and repeat again, at every step his foot following the stairs down the hill waist.
The severity of her foot stone, harder the heart of his son. At the last meeting, at the dinner table, Rosa refused to work on the statue of the father. "Papi's not fair to me. All the way I was schooled. What I got from school, from my experience, also penghayatanku, just squandered. "
Good people might think those words as a rebellion against the father's child. Do not be so. Look at you, not Rosa stood up and kissed his cheek before declaring rejection. The father's lips kiss made it a little plastered. Apparently, he enjoyed his daughter's love who stopped him warmly on the cheek. As warm water bay.
"No force, Rosa. So you do not. Do not get me wrong, "the corner of her lips. "I just wish that you did nothing wrong. One look at the statue, is it you are also to be praised later. "
"I can not understand, and can not accept the award people understand how to Papi in Papi. How do I make the statue, what were the results, so I appreciate Papi. That is not the work of Papi. But, that live praising ungkapanku Papi, "Rosa docked into the lap of his father. "Praise was never wrong, Pi," mmmh ... a flower kiss Rosa landed again on his cheek.
"I mean not to get the wrong face. There must be no beard strands are confused bunch of wind. 'Kan you know what the meaning of a line on a statue. No matter how small he could give a bad image on the nature of man. "
Rosa got up took the ashtray while carrying a cigarette between his fingers. Finger not at all romantic, subtlety eroded out of cement, stainless steel, bronze, or glass fibers. When her son's Ompung backs, like a mother hen to see a worm, with ligat paw tissue in which the painted portrait of the father in the sketch markers.
Sitting back in his chair, Rosa did not even give us clues as to lose the paper in which he had been tugging at the line quickly to establish his father's face. He knew the paper would have hidden her father. Pinned between her thighs and then later on he kept most exactly in a safe in his bedroom. It was the twenty-seven tissue contains a sketch of the father. Maminya stories, at midnight, tissue-tissue that diterawang strand by strand the father until he fell asleep he made.
Ompung as would plunge into the hearts of his son, he's face to his eyes, and said: "Dozens of sketches have you made about me, none of which missed. Perseverance, not courage, that's me. I saw it in all the sketchbook. Beard represented only two thin lines, but that's precisely the line that strengthens my personality. And, although there is no clear line pull, a mole on my chin was always present, "he paused, cleared his throat. "But, it's just a sketch. The statue is it else you see. Something wrong, if you start doing it now. I have a body. I know. Give me a chance to testify on my own. "
Rosa silent, letting the cigarette to remain unemployed, but smoky in between two fingers. He was not willing to repeat, and repeat again his reason for refusing the wishes of the father to give the authority of truth in his work. Make her award is her right, in some way. Not required justification or correction.
Repeatedly requested that the statue of his father he was doing, before retiring, before judging him. But, Rosa refused. If the girl's heart is the heart of a sailor who is flammable, then Rosa will close the debate with his father was a jerk, "Sip babam!" Shut up! But, it's no way he did. That is tantamount to cut off the water. Which may break due to differences of opinion. Moreover, his own father.
Mention what you do not do the parents in bringing up her daughter. Just as the ninth sister, Rosa also schooled to Europe. As the youngest child, he was given the opportunity to witness the realist mural Siqueiros, including the famous painting "Death and burial of Cain," which describes the procession of death was a thrilling fighter. Also studied art in Mexico a few years.
After a recent trip to the top of the hill today. After persuading Rosa for three years and failed. After sketching the above tissue was twenty seven, the sculptor still not bend, it's time Ompung her own way. He met his wife.
"It's a thousand times kubujuk Rosa, he remains unwilling to start work patungku. I can sense. But, do you leak, da! You help me. This request is final. "His wife is puzzled. What could he do? Sixty-six years accompanying Ompung, he never let her husband.
"Lying for good. For me. Patungku .... "
"Bah, lied .... When you've taught me to lie? "
"This is the last request. Kusembah you, please. "
The next day, when the sun has not been rampant on the horizon, Ompung, sails his own boat heading to island. Accompanied by aides who worked with him since many years ago. The maid was told to go home and should only be returned if requested.
Small town at the mouth of the bay was shivering. On the second day Ompung disappearance, the family is really excited to lose the parent. The entire corner of the city investigated, the hills dipanjati find the missing parents. Faithfulness Ompung matchless wife even though she must pass the suffering he never cherished, that is lying. To anyone who comes to ask, as smart as paropera tilhang, he still said he did not know.
"Bah, manalah I know it. He's my husband. Over sixty years. I am most sad of all that is here, "she assured her children who come from various cities of all the winds.
On the ninth day Ompung disappearance, a family meeting decided that all should rise to the cemetery on the hill, opened the gate. Who knows Ompung already stretched rigid on the inside. All family members and townspeople menyemut up the hill. The gate is made of stone dikuakkan. Bed bodies carved from marble remains empty. The full name Ompung called pounding. Who answered only sipongang.
Eleventh day, Rosa came to bring a miracle. "Whatever happened to Papi, I have to meet his request. Final demand. Now is the time. Now! I apologize for my attitude toward all these years. The statue is since many years he requested that I do actually already kutatah. Already made. I piled on the sand dunes, hidden on the island. Tomorrow I go there, and will bring it here. Immediately, we place at the funeral Papi, "he said, making the mouth of everyone who attended nan blood but a gaping silence. Ompung wife is no exception. However, with alacrity, he secretly ordered his loyal servant to fetch Ompung island, at that moment.
At midnight, with the shrewdness of a former fighter, Ompung sneak into her bedroom. There, he kissed his wife's all-out. Never had she thanked like that, to the extent that his wife gelagapan. He even wanted to kiss her knees, to worship him anyway.
Before the sun crawl sepenggalah, from the island of a sailing ship rammed its bow toward the shore. Three boats larger than the back reveals the accompanying waves. Rosa, with eyes that could not be separated from the hull, sitting in the bow. In the keel, on a bed of white fabric, sculpture terduduklah Ompung. While at the beach berjibun relatives and townspeople that awaits. The little town was shivering. However, no tears. That there is a desire to know how nian way Ompung carved in stone his own son, the Rosa, the dissidents.
Once set foot on the beach, directly at the place the statue on the long coffin, open eyes to heaven. There are ten people carry the statue of a sitting forward on top of the coffin had. The procession move slowly. Menyemut man followed the statue to the hill. Small town at the mouth of the bay was shivering. Inaudible cry, which floats just mumbled want to know where the hell Ompung already made the stone. Dressed all in black, Rosa, the sculptor, leading the way, most bloated chest, stepping as the spearhead of the road to human wave unfold behind him.
Also there is no point of tears when Ompung seated statue in cross section, one step from the door of his tomb. And, just as the will of a body, the eyes of the statue was NANAP looked down the slope, to the town below, and the waves of the bay threw himself endlessly. There were murmurs that move from one mouth to another mouth. Hill tops shivering could not answer where Ompung earth. No warning, not unexpectedly, at the waist hill seemed suddenly male figure dressed all in white, tread softly.
"Oi ... who is it?" Roared a voice at the top of the hill.
The white clad figures do not matter.
Ompung wife Rosa near the shoulder, pressed his lips on her youngest child's ear. "Papimu!"
Witnessed by thousands of pairs of eyes, Rosa, down the stairs, pick up his father. She held out her finger. What he received was denial. "No, I am strong. I like what I want to see you make. "
Ompung surrounds the statue itself. Three times clockwise. Three times in the opposite direction. He listened to his beard long wave. Gasped he saw the shadow of dung flies behind a thin beard. Birthmark there but like nothing, like women who conceal arnal golden idol inside the bun.
More close, almost knocking over his shoulder Ompung statue. He glanced toward where the statue directs the eye. "Amang oi ... Amang, the beauty of the ocean you see from here," pujanya ear sculpture.
"Papi, which is wrong?" Rosa approached, pressing.
No answer to the sculptor, but his father's body is approaching. In the eyelid's parents choked water. Ompung hugged her, kissed the top of his head several times, until his eyes water drops on it. Thousands of eyes, wind, and twigs syahdunya witnessed the embrace. Generating jealous.
"Bah, why am I not?" Protest Ompung wife. "And I've lied." Thousands of eyes, wind, twigs, and the valley stretching out both hands to wait Ompung and tightly on his wife's body.