Ew, Creepy! Part 6
“Turns out the principal is tough as nails. Once it’s torn down, it stays torn down. The once beautiful and serene classroom is now leveled to the ground.
But the ILA2 kids are just as tough. Get kicked out once, they still won’t budge. Get kicked out three times? Yeah, bring it on. Better than benzene, right? But that day, the kids were determined not to be moved to the old warehouse classroom. Not because the replacement classroom was smaller, not because it was next to the houses of residents who blast loud dangdut music during class hours. It’s more than that, a lot of values were taken away with the demolition of the old classroom. Values that can’t be bought. Can’t be replaced.
And that’s why the kids are staging a protest now. Even though the classroom has been torn down, they refuse to move. Even though the classroom desks were moved around by the janitor overnight, magically in the morning, they’re back to their original place. Complete with kids sitting on top of them.
“This is actually pretty cool, feels like studying at an open university!” Lupus exclaimed.
“Yeah, from here we can freely flirt with the girls doing sports!” Gito added.
“And we can easily get snacks from the cafeteria. Just shout and it’s delivered!” Meta, Ita, and Utari chimed in.
And the result? Buim had to scrape her head with a bottle cap all night because she caught a cold.
Even the school janitor, who spent the night moving the desks around, was dumbfounded when he saw them back in their original place in the morning. “Did you see it yourself, last night I was moving the desks?” the janitor said to his wife, looking out the window of their house towards Lupus’ classroom. Their house was still within the school compound.
When his wife nodded, still busy feeding their two-year-old child, the janitor blurted out, “Then why did the desks come back? Did I mess up while moving them?”
“Dad, remember the saying ‘Take care of your feet when you walk, take care of your tongue when you speak.’ Maybe you didn’t take care of your feet when you moved them?” the wife replied.
“Maybe, dear,” the janitor said, plopping down on the porch.
“Hey, Dad, look! The principal and his gang of assistants seem like they’re heading towards the kids.”
“Oh, this could get messy. Honey, you better pack up our valuable stuff. Just in case a revolution breaks out.”
“Yo, dude, what valuable stuff are you talking about, man?”
“You know, the school bell. If that thing goes missing, it’s gonna be a hassle. That thing has been holding up our rice bowl, man.”
Meanwhile, the principal and his crew are strutting around all high and mighty on the opposition side.
“Whoa, whoa, we might get suspended for this!” Lupus says anxiously.
“No worries, bro. As long as we get a severance package,” Anto says nonchalantly.
Gusur, who always sympathizes with Lupus’ crew, quickly scoots over to Lupus’ desk.
“Chill, bro. Don’t stress. I’ve prepared a poem to help with the protest. Can I recite it now?”
“Nah!” Gito and Anto shout in unison.
Gusur immediately shuts up. Lupus feels bad.
“Your poem is better when it’s recited in your heart, Sur!” Lupus says, trying to comfort him.
The kids stay silent. However, protest messages start popping up, aimed at the school authorities. Some are written on cardboard, some are displayed on pieces of cloth.
“Kids,” says the principal, “we’re ready to hear all your complaints.”
Anto stands up right away.
“Ugh, I haven’t had breakfast since this morning. That’s the complaint I’m feeling right now,” Anto shouts.
“If I don’t eat, I might faint, sir. It’s so hot in here,” Fifi Alone says while fanning herself with a pencil (ugh, like that’s gonna help!).
Hey, hey!!” Lupus interrupts. “That’s not what Principal meant. He’s ready to listen to our complaints about them tearing down our classroom. Right, sir?”
“Not… uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s right. But we’d prefer if you guys send a representative or a delegate to have a face-to-face meeting with us while drinking cendol,” the principal offers.
“I’ll do it,” Aji interjects.
“Nah, I’ll do it, bro,” Gito protests. “It’s a good chance to have cendol in the afternoon.”
“Nah, me. Me. Me!” the kids instantly start arguing to be the representative.
“Alright, calm down. We said we’re against chaos. Why are you all shouting like that?” Nyit-nyit comments, who has been silent this whole time.
“You can send a representative, someone you can trust and is responsible. Don’t send just anyone to have a dialogue with us about such an important issue like this.”
The kids go silent again. Meanwhile, the protest posters have started to serve different purposes.
Some are being used as fans or makeshift seat cushions.
Finally, they agreed to assign Lupus, Fifi Alone, Meta, and Gito as representatives to attend the dialogue forum. The other friends didn’t forget to give them some encouragement and prayers.
“Hopefully our mission is successful, Pus,” whispered Fifi Alone as they walked towards the principal’s office.
“Petition, Fi, is that what you mean?” Gito asked.
“Yeah, screw it.”
The kids outside were nervously dancing, I mean, anxiously waiting.
And right at ten o’clock, the dialogue forum began. On the principal’s side, besides his representatives, there were also a few teachers who were suspected to be loyal all the time. (Deodorant, maybe!)
“We, along with the other students, object to our class being moved to that corner room, which used to be a warehouse, Sir. First,” Lupus started reading their demands.
“Second, we demand proper compensation.
“Meaning, if possible, we want to be moved to a class that is not too different from our previous one.
“Third, we are disappointed that our class was demolished just for a parking lot.
“Fourth, why was the demolition so sudden?
“Fifth, go on a pilgrimage if we can… Uh, sorry, Sir. I accidentally brought my religious notebook. Uh, the fifth demand is that we are grateful to have the opportunity to meet with you, Sir.
“Well, those are the demands we are presenting, Sir. And thank you for your attention. Peace out!”
The principal was silent for a moment.
“Kids, we accept your demands, with the condition that you still move to the new class. You have to understand that the demolition of the class was not solely for the benefit of a certain group, but for the benefit of all of us.
“You know, our school doesn’t have an adequate parking lot. And it turns out that a parking lot is important. Besides parking, it can also generate income by selling parking tickets. Anyone who wants to park their motorbike or car has to buy a ticket.
“So, you have to be willing to move to that corner room for the development of our school.
“How about it? Agree? Alright, let’s close the dialogue forum. Boom!”
Lupus and his crew didn’t have much to say because the principal immediately offered them cendol to drink, and then left the room.
Remembering the incident at school earlier in the afternoon, Lupus couldn’t sleep at night. He felt that the principal’s reasons were too contrived. But what can he say, the rice has turned into burnt crust. It’s impossible to rebuild the demolished class. It would definitely cost a lot.
But imagine studying in a warehouse? Ugh, that’s so lame.
As a result, Lupus woke up late in the morning. That was after Lulu banged on the door with a hammer and ended up breaking it.
“Hey, do you not go to school or what?” snapped Lulu. “It’s already noon, you know!”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Go take a shower.”
“You go.”
“Ugh, I wake you up and you’re still being a pain. Do you want me to hit you with a hammer so you can go back to sleep?”
Lupus was threatened like that, so he hurried to the bathroom.
But, “Luluuuu…! Where did you hide the dipper?”
“Hahaha, for once, take a shower without a dipper. But don’t worry, Pus. I put a spoon there instead. It’s more fun to take a quick shower with a spoon.”
“Hahaha.”
“More enjoyable. Pus!”
Luckily, when they arrived at school, the other kids hadn’t entered yet. Well, it turned out that the school guard was busy moving the desks and chairs to the new classroom. Because if they moved them at night, he was worried that they would have to move them again to the “disputed” land during the day.
And it turned out that this incident also caught the attention of the teenage magazine press. One of them was HAI for the “School Antics” section. Mr. Dharmawan, with his curly hair, skinny figure, dark skin, and (fortunately) alive, arrived early in the morning.
He waited at the gate while carrying a typewriter and a tape recorder, which, maybe to save money on batteries, was powered by a motorcycle battery connected to the battery compartment. Meanwhile, in his jacket with many pockets, there were rolls of film, tissues, spare change for making phone calls (in case he ran out of money, so he could ask for a ride from the office car), notes, and the rest of the dirty laundry that hadn’t been washed for a week.
And Fifi Alone knew exactly who he was. Definitely a journalist! So, of course, she wanted to be interviewed! And with a pretentious friendly attitude, Fifi immediately invited Mas Dharmawan to hang out. Of course, they ordered drinks first. Mas Dharmawan, receiving such a warm welcome, was very happy. Especially getting an offer of free drinks, wow, it could save transportation money. His mind quickly calculated, hihihi, his popularity could rise! Understandable, being a journalist is like being a chicken. Eat, peck, eat, peck. No time to think about tomorrow.
But his wandering thoughts were quickly extinguished. He remembered, this was for work. He couldn’t relax. So, after a short chat, the journalist got straight to the point, “So, what’s the real issue behind this incident?”
“What? Drumming? Well, that’s one of my hobbies. Playing the drums. The important thing is the exercise. Besides, artists like me shouldn’t be far from the community. You know, everything comes from them. In short, I don’t want to be labeled as snobbish. That’s why I entertain playing the drums. And I don’t need to be afraid of being called low-class. Do you know Merias Kukus? He’s our actor who just won an award. Rumor has it that he’s a down-to-earth person. Likes to eat at street food stalls. Well, I want to be like that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t have money. If it’s just money, I already have a lot saved in banks. Right? Right?”
Mas Dharmawan was confused.
“But, kid. I mean, about the demonstration…”
“Oh… about concentration, I’m the best at that. Once the camera starts rolling, the only thing I think about is my role. I have to get into my character. The heat from the lights or the people watching on set, that’s small stuff. It won’t ruin my contraception.”
“Contraception?”
“Yeah, Mas. Confrontation. Sorry, but professional artists are sometimes like that. They forget about the little things… what was it? Confirmation? Yes, right, consequences.”
While scratching his curly hair, the journalist dude continued his question. “Like, dude, is it true that the demonstration was caused by the teachers’ not-so-great image in the eyes of the students?”
“Totally, dude! Like, for real. You know it, man. In the upcoming FFI, I have no intention of making a surprise. Just so everyone knows, I’m not some small-time artist. Like, is Muchsin the only one who can snatch the Citra? Oops, my bad. Who was it that snatched the Best Actress title the other day?”
“Christine Hakim, you mean?”
“A hundred points for you, man. That’s who I meant, Sutan Takdir Alyahbina. As fellow artists, I’m totally solid with him. His performance in the movie ‘Depan Bisa, Belakang Bisa’ was truly amazing.”
“Oh no, miss. Sutan Takdir Alisjahbana is not a movie star. He’s our writer. The author of the book ‘Grota Azura’, ‘Dian Yang Tak Kunjung Padaam’…”
Fifi Alone paused for a moment. Then she said seriously, “If that’s the case, my suspicion is correct. He must be a writer!”
Not long after, the new classroom was filled with ILA2 kids. But not all of them, some were hanging out in the cafeteria or sitting under the acacia tree.
That day, the first teacher to enter was Mr. Punk. He’s one of those teachers with high solidarity. As soon as he entered, he started talking about physics formulas.
Hehehe.
The kids were caught off guard. Mr. Punk realized that the kids’ enthusiasm for learning hadn’t fully recovered. So, instead, Mr. Punk invited the kids to have a discussion.
“I can feel all your emotions, guys. But remember, kids, something you love so much may not be something we can have forever. Right now, it’s better to enjoy what we have. Let’s enjoy this moment as something extraordinary.
“I think if you guys want, we can also paint the walls of this classroom. We can make it more beautiful than the previous one.
“So, what do you think, kids? I think instead of dwelling on the past that won’t come back, it’s better to revive our spirits to build a new atmosphere.”
“Well, actually, we already had that intention, sir. We’ve planned everything down to the smallest detail,” Lupus chimed in. “But what we’re still wondering is why the principal doesn’t have a proper master plan when doing something. No long-term planning.”
“Yo, dude, Mr. Punk is totally bummed about Kepzek’s lack of planning. But whatever, let’s forget about that. We should focus on something else, man. Oh, seems like our little crew isn’t complete yet, huh?”
“Yeah, man. Fifi Alone is getting interviewed by some mosque bulletin journalist in the cafeteria. And Boim, I have no idea where Boim is, sir,” Anto said.
“Boim? I saw Boim… still sitting on his bench amidst the rubble, sir,” Utari said.
“Yeah, sir. I saw him too. Maybe he’s still not able to forget all those memories, sir.”
“Try to convince that kid, dude. Tell him to join us, don’t let him be alone in that zone, it’s sad,” Mr. Punk said.
Lupus and a few of his friends went outside to approach Boim, who was still faithfully hanging out on that “memory ground.”
“Yo, man, let it go, man. Just let it all go,” Lupus persuaded.
Boim stayed silent.
“We know how you feel, man. We all feel it too. But hey, we got a replacement, man. Yeah, even though the classroom is kinda small, kinda stuffy, kinda smelly and dirty like you. But we can make it better, man. We’ll paint it again.
“Come on, man, let’s go inside. The other kids are waiting.”
Boim didn’t budge.
The other kids looked at Boim with a mix of sadness and admiration. Who would’ve thought, that ugly kid could be so loyal?
“Come on, man, let’s go, man. Don’t add more sorrow to our hearts,” Meta, Ita, and Utari joined in, trying to persuade him.
Boim looked at each of them, then spoke softly,
“I have to stay on this bench, my good friends. You know, I’m waiting for a first-grade kid who comes in the afternoon. I sent a letter through this bench. And that kid promised to reply to my letter. They said they’ll leave the reply in my desk drawer. That’s why I have to stay, wait, and hold on here. It would be a shame if I left…”
The other kids were stunned.
