Chapter 3:
A Little Angel in a Narrow Heaven
~An original masterpiece by Fendi S~
Immediately after officially getting married, Bima brought Wanda to move into a tiny, rented house in the densely populated slums of Palmerah. The incredibly simple, fragile houses stood suffocatingly close to one another, crammed tightly together like sardines in a tin.
The light blue paint on their walls was heavily peeling in every corner, revealing the rough, gray cinder blocks beneath. A cheap, rusted tin roof absorbed the scorching, unforgiving heat of the Jakarta sun without any mercy throughout the afternoon. The winding alleyway leading to their new home was far too narrow for any car to pass through. They had to walk on foot, carrying their heavy luggage while weaving through crowds of neighbors who were busy hanging their wet laundry outside.
Bima stood frozen and completely speechless at the threshold of the wooden door. It had no handle; a small, rusty padlock was the only way to secure it. His heavy suitcase pressed down painfully on his exhausted shoulders. His eyes slowly swept across the entire four-by-four-meter room. The musty, suffocating smell of damp cement floors instantly stung his nostrils. A faded, dusty pink ceiling fan hung completely motionless from the ceiling.
"I am so sorry, Wanda," Bima whispered softly, breaking the heavy, awkward silence. "The house is incredibly cramped. And the air is so hot it practically burns the skin."
Wanda stepped inside, walking right past Bima without a single ounce of hesitation. The beautiful girl gently placed her expensive designer bag down in the dusty corner of the room. She casually kicked off her high heels, leaving them scattered by the door. Her bare feet bravely stepped directly onto the rough, freezing cold cement floor.
There was absolutely no trace of disappointment on her radiant face. Not a single complaint escaped her thin, graceful lips.
"Did you honestly think I was looking for a multi-story marble palace, Mas Bim?" Wanda teased, flashing a warm, knowing smile.
With nimble hands, she immediately grabbed an old palm-fiber broom leaning in the corner. She began aggressively sweeping the thick layers of dust off the floor, her eyes burning with an undeniable, fierce enthusiasm.
Bima stepped forward, gently grabbing his wife's arm to stop her. "That is not what I meant... You are used to sleeping on a soft, expensive mattress in an air-conditioned room. Meanwhile, the air in here is so stuffy and incredibly uncomfortable."
Wanda stopped and leaned the broom against the peeling wall. She turned her body completely to face her husband. She raised her soft, delicate hands and gently cupped Bima's thin, exhausted cheeks. Her slender fingers lovingly wiped away the remaining beads of sweat from his forehead. Instantly, the sweet, intoxicating scent of jasmine radiating from her body completely overpowered the musty smell of the tiny room.
"My palace is right here, Mas Bim... Right inside your warm embrace," Wanda said, staring deeply into Bima's eyes as if searching for his absolute certainty. "Now stop worrying. Help your wife sweep this dirty floor. We have to set up the mattress before the sun goes down."
Hearing those words, Bima smiled. The massive, suffocating burden that had been tightly squeezing his chest instantly evaporated, blown away into nothingness. Wanda's unconditional acceptance was incredibly profound and pure. She swallowed every single one of her husband's economic shortcomings without a second thought.
To Bima, this simple, cramped house was his true palace. It provided an unparalleled, absolute inner peace. He had successfully grasped the absolute freedom he had always dreamed of. He was standing tall, able to bring happiness to the woman he chose, purely on his own two feet. He felt his dignity and honor as a man had been completely salvaged.
The Syllables of True Freedom
The following days passed by as if they were living in heaven, heavily woven with an intoxicating, deeply poetic romance. They fought incredibly hard, building a bright future side by side from the absolute bottom.
Wanda poured all of her energy into growing her small beauty salon. She tirelessly served customers, cutting and styling hair until the late afternoon. Bima continued to work relentlessly, focusing entirely on painting to gather enough rupiah to keep their household breathing. His fingers grew heavily calloused from dragging thick charcoal pencils across sketchpads from noon until dusk on the dusty sidewalks of the Old Town.
Every single dawn, long before the sun rose, Bima would wake up first. He would light the old kerosene stove, filling the tiny room with its distinct, nostalgic aroma. He would boil fresh water and brew warm, fragrant jasmine tea into a simple glass. Wanda would always wake up shortly after, stretching her arms and deeply inhaling the sweet aroma of her husband's morning brew.
"Good morning, my proud Artist," Wanda would greet him, wrapping her arms tightly around her husband's back.
Bima would turn off the stove, turn around, and kiss his wife's forehead for a very, very long time. "Good morning, Mrs. Bima. Your jasmine tea is completely ready to accompany your morning," he joked playfully, sliding the glass toward her like a professional bartender serving his favorite patron.
Every evening, as the time came to pack up his street stall, Bima always found himself fiercely impatient to go home. He would walk incredibly fast, almost breaking into a run as he navigated the winding, crowded alleyways. More often than not, his hands carried a warm box of sweet terang bulan (martabak) filled with milk and cheese—his wife's absolute favorite treat. Sometimes, he would pick a simple, wild flower growing on the side of the road as a romantic surprise.
Wanda was always there, waiting for him at the threshold of the wooden door, greeting him with the sweetest, most affectionate smile. Her long, beautiful hair was usually tied up into a messy bun, revealing her elegant neck, which was often glistening with the sweat of a hard day's work.
"What is cooking tonight, Honey?" Bima would ask, kissing her forehead tenderly, finally releasing the heavy longing he had held back all day.
"Your absolute favorite moringa leaf soup is ready. And the crispy fried tempeh is still steaming hot on the table," Wanda would reply efficiently, reaching out to take his heavy canvas backpack from his tired shoulders.
They would sit cross-legged facing each other on a faded plastic mat decorated with a bird-of-paradise motif. They shared a single plate, devouring their hunger while silently sharing their boundless love.
"The tempeh is a little bit burnt today, Mas Bim," Wanda said, blushing slightly as she watched her husband chew with immense appetite.
"Are you kidding? This is the most delicious tempeh in all of Jakarta. A five-star restaurant's luxury dish could never beat this," Bima praised earnestly, without a single trace of a lie in his eyes.
Wanda let out a crisp, melodic laugh. She reached out, gently wiping a drop of sweet soy sauce from the corner of her husband's lips. "You are such a liar. You are far too good at sweet-talking me."
Absolute, unadulterated freedom had finally found its most comfortable home.
The Whisper of the Rain
That night, lying on the thin foam mattress of their rented house, a light rain began to fall, gently tapping against the tin roof. A freezing breeze sneaked through the cracks of the wooden window frames, sending shivers across their skin. Bima wrapped his arms tightly around Wanda from behind, the natural warmth of his body completely chasing away the cold.
Wanda rested her head comfortably against Bima's broad chest. Her slender fingers slowly twirled the faded buttons of her husband's shirt, moving to the hypnotic, rhythmic sound of the falling raindrops.
"Mas Bim..." Wanda called out, her voice so incredibly soft it was almost completely washed away by the sound of the drizzle.
"Yes, Honey?" Bima answered, his eyes still closed as he happily inhaled the lingering scent of jasmine from the curve of his wife's neck.
"Starting tomorrow, you have to paint much, much more. Your efforts have to multiply twice as hard as before."
Bima was instantly confused. He furrowed his brow and opened his eyes. He turned to look at his wife's face, a massive question mark hanging over his head.
"Why so sudden, Honey? Is the landlord raising our rent next month?" he asked, a sharp note of anxiety lacing his voice.
Wanda shook her head slowly, desperately trying to hold back the beautiful smile blooming on her lips. She reached out and grabbed Bima's rough, calloused palm. Gently, she guided his hand and placed it flat against her stomach, right over the thin fabric of her nightgown.
"A brand-new life is growing perfectly healthy inside here, Mas Bim. Very soon, you are going to be a father."
Instantly, Bima's chest boomed violently, as if it had been struck by a massive steel hammer. His breath hitched, trapped completely at the back of his throat, stopping the flow of his blood for a fraction of a second.
"Are you... are you completely serious?" Bima's voice trembled violently, desperately trying to contain the explosive, overflowing surge of pure emotional joy.
Wanda nodded firmly, without a single drop of hesitation. Beautiful tears of overwhelming happiness rolled down, wetting her blushing cheeks. "Our first child will be here very soon to perfectly complete our happiness, Mas Bim."
At that exact second, Bima broke down. He sobbed uncontrollably, completely tearing down the tough, stoic masculinity he had maintained all these years. He pushed himself up into a kneeling position, bowing his head deeply. His trembling lips kissed his wife's stomach over and over again, endlessly fueled by absolute euphoria. His tears of profound gratitude shattered the silence, harmonizing beautifully with the sound of the falling rain outside the window.
"Thank you... thank you infinitely, Dear God," Bima sobbed loudly, wrapping his arms tightly around his wife's waist and burying his face into her stomach. "I swear to you, I will give him the entire world."
The Little Knight of the Light
The following months of pregnancy transformed into the most thrilling, highly anticipated period of their lives.
Bima ruthlessly multiplied his working hours without complaining of exhaustion even once. He spoiled Wanda completely, treating her like a majestic queen who had descended straight from the heavens. Every single night before bed, he would patiently massage his wife's swollen calves, which ached from carrying the increasing weight of the baby.
"Are your legs still sore, Honey?" Bima asked, gently kneading the soles of her feet all the way up to her calves.
"It feels so much better after you massage them, Mas Bim. Your child has been kicking incredibly actively all afternoon while I was serving customers at the salon," Wanda snorted playfully, smiling with immense pride as she lovingly rubbed her perfectly round, swollen belly.
Bima quickly pressed his right ear firmly against his wife's stomach, trying to carefully listen to every single tiny movement inside.
"Don't be naughty in there, my little champion. Have some pity on your mother; she is exhausted from working all day at the salon to earn money," Bima whispered, playfully chatting with his unborn baby while gently stroking his wife's belly.
Wanda affectionately ruffled her husband's messy, wavy hair. "He will definitely grow up to be a great, strong man exactly like you one day, Mas Bim."
As the ninth month approached, Bima could be seen busy sawing scrap wood and hammering planks on the narrow front porch of their rented house. His hard-earned money was still not enough to buy an expensive baby crib from a fancy maternity store. So, using his own two hands, he meticulously built and assembled a tiny, beautiful wooden crib, coating it with a glossy varnish to warmly welcome their precious little angel.
The nine months flew by rapidly, finally bringing the greatest, most ultimate blessing from the ruler of the universe.
Late one night, Wanda whimpered in agonizing pain, enduring massive contractions as her water finally broke. Bima immediately scooped his wife into his arms, running frantically down the dark alleyways toward the local maternity clinic.
A loud, piercing baby's cry shattered the tense silence of the clinic that night. Bima immediately leaned in, softly reciting the sacred Adhan (call to prayer) directly into the tiny, reddish ear of his newborn baby. His deep voice trembled violently as he fought back the heavy sobs clogging his throat. Tears flowed endlessly, completely soaking his rough cheeks.
Wanda lay weak and exhausted on the hospital bed, staring at her husband with eyes overflowing with pure, unconditional love. Cold sweat drenched her beautiful face, which looked incredibly pale and drained of energy.
"What is his name, Mas Bim?" Wanda whispered hoarsely, her voice barely a breath.
Bima leaned in close and kissed his wife's damp forehead deeply and passionately. "Wira... Wirabuana. This little knight is the bringer of the shining path for us."
The Silent Prologue of the Storm
Wira grew rapidly into an incredibly handsome, undeniably adorable toddler. His skin was flawlessly clear, seemingly radiating its own bright light. His sharp gaze was as piercing as an eagle's, perfectly inheriting the mental toughness of his street-hardened father. His thick, wavy hair was an exact genetic carbon copy of Bima when he was younger.
The presence of little Wirabuana perfectly completed the frame of happiness for the simple family living on the outskirts of the capital. Their son's pure, innocent laughter echoed brightly inside the tiny four-by-four-meter house every single day.
Late one night, Bima wrapped his arms tightly around his wife's body after Wanda had successfully put Wira to sleep inside the glossy wooden crib Bima had built himself. They stood together, looking down lovingly at the incredibly peaceful face of their tiny son, who was sound asleep, breathing in a slow, steady rhythm.
"I promise I will always protect the two of you with all of my strength. I will defend this happiness until my very last breath," Bima whispered, swearing a solemn, unbreakable vow directly into Wanda's ear.
Wanda smiled incredibly sweetly, responding to his vow with absolute, profound inner peace. The girl tightened her embrace, burying her tired, beautiful face deeply into her husband's broad chest, creating a sanctuary of absolute tranquility.
Bima had been taken by this girl to fly and touch the most beautiful heaven imaginable. He closed his eyes, holding the absolute perfection of his life tightly in his arms, fiercely refusing to ever let it go.
The great man was determined to stride confidently toward the future, completely unaware of the dark, hidden secrets destiny was slowly brewing.
The arrival of his first child had successfully birthed an unparalleled warmth within his small family. Yet, it was also the silent, impending prologue—the calm before the devastating hurricane that would one day brutally shatter the fragile walls of their palace of love.
To be continued in Chapter 4...
