Father's Face (Part-2)

(For those of you who have not read part 1, can be read here (https://steemit.com/story/@teukumukhlis/father-s-face) 

And then he took me to the top of the mountain. On the mountain, I feel vibrating beauty and longing. Like a pair of lovers who missed her partner after a while it does not met. There has existed a house. It's our home, the father said. I ran to it. I saw a mother was sewing and Sis Zubaidah was helping mom cut fabrics. Then my father took me to a place. Here a lot of flowers. I smell the scent of flowers. Most here are the edelweiss. People say this is a perennial flower. A sign of true love for his girlfriend. They say, this flower is a symbol of the mountain climbers. Father pointing towards the west.

"It was our field," he said. I smiled and dad proud of the efforts in managing the fields are already beginning to show results.

I was very happy at the top of the mountain. I was satisfied to play with dad. Stepping up his shoulders, playing hide and seek, and play war. Until finally some men dressed all in black and wearing a cap face and then dragged my father harshly. My happiness is threatened.

"Daaaaaaad!! Daaaaaaad!! Daaaaaaad!! "I shouted.

I tried to extricate the muscular arms of the father's body. The more I fight, the more powerful the people were dragging my dad. I ran into the house to call mom and Sis Zubaidah.

"Mooooom!! Sis Zubaidaaaaah! "

However, they did not find. I'm looking almost to the corner of the house. Remains not found. I got out, perhaps they are in the flower garden. When I was there, the flower garden suddenly disappear. There was only the weeds barren. My house is also missing. People who dragged my father was also missing. Without realizing everything has been lost. And I was trapped in the dark. When I opened my eyes, I was awake. Mother and Sis Zubaidah were on my side. Again I embrace the mother. I cry. Sis Zubaidah heard incessantly istighfar (say forgiveness).

The next morning, I wrote a letter for my father.

Beloved My dad!

After so many years you are not on our side, we miss you so much. Do you manage a field that has been harvested? Do you already have a lot of money? Do not you miss us as we miss? Actually I do not have a field, I do not need much. Your love I have been quite happy. I would like a gentle caress. Go home! Go home, Dad!

From your son who is always waiting for you.

The letter was folded carefully. Although only a few sentences, the letter has at least cover my inner groaning. I just was not very good at writing letters well. Because the school did not teach me a lot about writing a letter. That fact that I get in my school. But whither shall I send this letter? Is there a post office there? Or on a white dove? No, I keep this letter. Maybe later my village there are people who go to the top of the mountain, and then I'll leave this letter.

For days I'm looking for someone who will be there. But nobody wants to go there. They are afraid. No matter what's up there. They say there was a ghost. And they said again, there are those who are cruel. Heartless people that always disturbing the tranquility of the village with its citizens kidnapped, robbed, and more that they do. You lie! My father was there. Impossible!

The letter was eventually treasured. Look after in order not to shabby. Someday, I'll take him myself.

(to be continued - part 3)