Since then, we have been moving from place to place without a house to stay. This situation is better, said Dad. We don’t have to crack our heads to think about what colour to paint the walls, what brand of paint to use, hire someone to paint or paint it ourselves, how many cans of paint would be needed and so forth.
That is only about the paint. Dad listed tens of – hundreds and thousands, indeed – problems that we would be able to avoid all together since we do not own a house.
“But, Dad,” said one of us while we were seated inside a peanut shell. “Which address shall we use for official purposes? What about school registration; which address to use? What if someone wants to send us a letter; a fan perhaps.”
“Just give the Parliament address or our Prime Minister’s,” Dad answered spontaneously. “At least we won’t be receiving all those junk mail.”
“And we do not have fans,” someone among us added; but not the one who raised the initial question. “Do you think we are Marsli N.O’s Penipu? No. We are nobody.”
The others among us agreed while shaking our heads. By then, we had already left the peanut shell where we took shelter and went through the pages of Penipu short story compilation while waiting for the rain to stop.
“What about school registration; which address to use?” Someone asked; could have been the same person or someone else.
“Why worry? Have you forgotten that all of you have never been to school,” Dad assured while walking.
“Oh, yeah!” We responded in unison.