Leila Chudori - Home

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 father 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.