A little girl made her way through the slum, passing adults who looked just as dirty and smudged as she was from their toil. Her small feet carried her as she dodged the people at the traditional market she had to cross to get to her destination. She ignored the splashes of wet mud on her toes; her tiny face filled with worry that shouldn't have marred a face so young.
The little shack that was her destination sat lonely next to a bent papaya tree, providing cool shade to the tiny dwelling place. A small white smoke bellowed from it. She entered, for once forgetting her manner as she fixed her eyes on a handsome figure kneeling beside the owner of the house who was lying sick.
Riri held the crumpled money in her small hand, waving it to the man in yellow and brown flannel shirt who seemed out of place in such a humble setting. "Om dokter, tolong mampir kerumah. Ada yang sakit dirumah saya (Uncle doctor, please come by my house. Someone is sick in my house)," she pleaded with her doe eyes, extending her hand as she offered him what little money she had.
The 35 year old Chinese-American man looked up to her, his dark brows furrowed in compassion at the child. He gestured to the thin man lying on the floor next to him who was coughing like there was grovel in his throat, "Apakah sakitnya seperti dia? (Is the sickness look like his?)" he asked, thinking that it was the viral disease that ailed whoever was in the little girl's house.
Riri spared a glance at the sick man, shaking her head. "Dia luka om. Dipukul orang kemaren (She's hurt, uncle. Someone hit her yesterday)."
After giving the sick man a few medical advice and a few strips of medicine for him to take, the young doctor grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He followed the girl through the market, adjusting his hold on the heavy bag once in a while. The little girl led him to another place in other part of the slum. The young doctor assumed it was the little girl's family member who was injured in whatever fight had commenced yesterday- something that didn't surprise him anymore with how many jobless thugs roaming around the area.
He was proved wrong when he arrived and found his patient- a helpless Caucasian woman who was just as out of place as he.
***
TWENTY-FOUR HOURS EARLIER
"Gol!"
Eliska, Riri and a few other slum kids within the same soccer team let out a cheerful victory cry, laughing as a small boy in their team scored them another goal for three times in a row. The kids other team, hung their heads in defeat rather dramatically, putting collective blame on the goalkeeper.
"Uh-uh. No bullying. Be a good sport, guys," Eliska admonished the kids from the other team gently, before translating herself so the kids may understand her, "Tidak boleh bully ya. Harus sportif."
Contrary to what most people might think, the little kids from the slum had a very humble and teachable heart. They listened well to instructions, and upon her gentle rebuke, the kids flashed her various shy, toothy grins at her.
"I'm sorry, Miss Eliska," the kids said in unison. The way the kids spoke English for her sake melted Lika's heart. Somehow, in the eyes of the kids of the slum of Jakarta, Lika saw Aunt Mercy.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Lika
RomanceEliska "Lika" Denali has been Henry Kingsley's personal assistant and best friend for almost ten years. She'd been his greatest supporter. She'd been with him through thick and thin. She'd been the one to pick him up when no one else would. She runs...
