Randa coughed violently, choking on his food. Meanwhile, Nisa patted her brother's back in a panic.
After a while, the choking eased, and Randa finally managed to complain to his sister.
"Nisa! Why would you scare me while I'm eating? Look at me now—I almost choked to death!"
Seeing her brother suffer, Nisa couldn't hold back her guilt.
"Yeah, sorry… But why are you eating in secret with that silly grin on your face? You looked like you were… I don't know… doing something weird."
Randa rolled his eyes at her.
"Doing what, huh? You think your brother's a freak?"
Nisa was about to fire back to lighten the mood, but before she could, noises came from the kitchen door.
Moments later, their parents walked in, curiosity written all over their faces.
"What's going on here? Why are you two being so noisy? I could hear you from outside," their mother asked.
Nisa quickly tried to change the subject, glancing at Randa with pleading eyes.
But Randa ignored her and spilled everything.
"It's Nisa, Mom! She startled me while I was eating, and I choked!" he said, pointing to the food he had just spat onto the floor.
Their mother, Siti, looked down at the mess with concern, then asked, "Are you all right now?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Hearing that, Siti's worried face softened, but only for a second—then her expression turned fierce again.
Randa, watching the sudden shift, was secretly impressed. If Mom were an actress, she'd already have an Oscar.
"Nisa! You never disturb someone while they're eating. That's a serious taboo. Don't you ever do it again!" Siti scolded.
Nisa hung her head, looking defeated.
On the other hand, Randa was delighted to see his sister getting scolded. He started pulling smug, silly faces at her.
Nisa was furious. She wanted so badly to get back at him, but since she was still under her mother's lecture, she could only grit her teeth.
Faisal, their father, just shook his head, helpless. Even as adults, his children still bickered like little kids. He turned his gaze to the dining table instead.
It wasn't that he didn't feel sorry for Nisa, but he knew she needed to learn her lesson. In Indonesian culture, there are two things you never interrupt: sleep and meals. So it was only fair she was being scolded.
Then his eyes fell on Randa's simple meal. Considering that Siti had already cooked, he wondered if his son disliked her food that day.
By then, Siti had finished lecturing Nisa, so Faisal asked,
"What's with the eggs, Randa? Don't you like your mother's cooking?"
Randa opened his mouth to explain, but Nisa jumped in first, full of energy, clearly eager for revenge.
"Oh, Dad! I think he doesn't like Mom's cooking! He was eating like it was the most delicious thing in the world. That's why I startled him—he looked so suspicious! I've never seen him eat like that when it's Mom's food!"
She blurted it all in one breath, worried her complaint might get cut off.
Randa just rolled his eyes again.
"It's not that, Dad. Mom's food is always good. I was just trying out eggs from our own chickens—and they're amazing! You should taste them…"
Siti and Faisal exchanged skeptical looks. Eggs? That delicious?
Before they could say anything, Nisa snatched an egg from Randa's plate and tasted it.
At first, her face stayed neutral, but the moment she chewed, her head started bobbing up and down like a spring-neck toy.
"Mom! Dad! This is insane! I never thought a fried egg could taste this good!" she exclaimed in disbelief.
Siti and Faisal still looked doubtful, assuming Nisa was exaggerating.
So Nisa immediately spoon-fed them rice and egg.
As soon as they tasted it, their eyes lit up, faces glowing with satisfaction.
"This is… incredible. Is this really from your chickens, Randa? No extra seasoning?" Siti asked.
"No, Mom. If you don't believe me, fry another one. It'll taste the same."
Still skeptical, Siti fried another egg. When she, Faisal, and Nisa tasted it, the result was the same—it really was exceptional.
"Wow, you're amazing, Brother! Everything you raise and grow tastes better than usual. I'm sure you'll succeed in farming and livestock!" Nisa said excitedly.
Hearing that, Siti felt relieved. Her recent worries faded a little thanks to those eggs.
Faisal gazed at his son with pride. He felt Randa had truly become reliable.
In the end, the whole family ended up eating earlier than usual because of Randa's eggs.
Randa made sure to eat plenty—since he'd been diligently training with his Prison-Style Workouts, extra protein was only natural.
Siti and Faisal each had two eggs.
Nisa, however, ate only one, though her dissatisfied expression betrayed her craving.
"What's wrong, Nisa?" Faisal asked.
"Nothing, Dad. It's just… the eggs are so good. I want more…"
"Then why don't you eat more? Afraid of getting fat?" Faisal teased, used to his daughter's quirks.
"No, I'm afraid of breaking out if I eat too many eggs."
Randa scoffed.
"Come on, you still believe that myth? That's nonsense."
Nisa glared at him.
"Hmph! Know-it-all!"
Faisal could only shake his head and quietly continue eating.
...
That night, Randa went to the chicken coop, excited. After all, when someone gets a "new toy," it's natural to be more attentive and enthusiastic.
That was exactly how he felt. He busily checked on his chickens, grinning from ear to ear.
I wonder how much these eggs would sell for? They can't be the same price as regular ones. Even native free-range eggs cost more than factory eggs—so mine must be worth even more! he thought, weighing the idea in his head.
His father, who had tagged along out of curiosity, gathered the remaining eggs to take home.
Faisal didn't care much about what his son was doing—he had no desire to sit around in the forest feeding mosquitoes.
On the way back, Faisal saw three men sitting at the food stall in front of their house. He set the basket of eggs in a corner and greeted a few familiar faces. Soon, a young man called out to him.
"Hello, Uncle!"
"Hey, Rohid! How are you?"
"I'm good, Uncle. How about you?"
"Can't complain."
"Oh, Uncle—I heard Randa's home. Where is he?"
"He's still at the chicken coop."
"What? He's still there this late? Raising chickens can't be that much work. I used to have some free-range chickens too. Just build a coop, feed them, and let them out during the day. They always came home on their own in the evening."
"Hahaha, it's not that hard, really. Randa's just… a little obsessed," Faisal said with an awkward smile.
Rohid didn't quite believe him, but as a younger man, he simply nodded politely.
A little later, Siti came out of the house in her hijab, asking Faisal if the chicken coop was alright.
Meanwhile, Rohid, busy with his phone, suddenly felt thirsty.
"Auntie, can I get a glass of teh talua?"
Teh talua is a traditional Minang drink made from whisked egg yolk and sugar, topped up with hot tea, sometimes with lime juice to cut the smell.
"Oh, teh talua? Sure, wait a minute, dear," Siti said, heading to the kitchen.
Rohid thought she'd be back quickly, but it took longer than expected. When she returned, she looked uneasy.
"Sorry, Rohid. We're out of kampung eggs. I haven't bought more yet. Could you order something else?" she asked apologetically.
[Ps: kampung eggs = free-range chicken eggs]
"No problem, Auntie. Just a hot tea then."
Siti nodded and was about to go back inside when Faisal stopped her.
"Wait a minute!"
"What is it?" Siti asked, slightly annoyed.
"Randa's raising free-range chickens now. Of course there are eggs. Make me a teh talua too!"
Realizing her mistake, Siti grabbed the egg basket.
"Here you go, Rohid. We've still got some. I'll make it now."
"Thanks, Auntie," Rohid replied, relieved.
Siti went in to prepare the drinks, while Faisal scrolled through Facebook on his phone, chatting lightly with the men at the stall. The TV, the sound of phones, and the conversations gave the place a cozy atmosphere.
Before long, Siti returned with two foamy glasses of teh talua.
"Here you go, Rohid."
"Thank you, Auntie."
Rohid set the glass down, still glued to his phone. He didn't drink right away—it was too hot.
Faisal, on the other hand, wasted no time. He lifted his glass and inhaled deeply.
"Ahhh, that smells amazing!" he sighed. He had expected Randa's eggs to make it taste good, but the aroma was beyond his imagination.
Quickly, he squeezed in some lime juice, stirred, blew on it gently, then took a long sip.
At once, the rich sweetness and fragrant tea filled his throat. Faisal froze for a moment, then shouted in true dad fashion:
"Ahhh, delicious!"
Startled, Rohid looked up to see Faisal grinning with a foamy brown mustache on his lips. The sight left him baffled.
Noticing his reaction, Faisal only got more excited.
"Come on, Rohid, try it! Today's teh talua is special because it's made with Randa's eggs!"
As a Minang, Rohid knew teh talua usually tasted the same everywhere. But with Faisal's enthusiasm, he couldn't refuse.
He followed the steps, minus the lime—he didn't like mixing sweet with sour. Everyone was watching as he prepared to take his first sip.
Under the pressure of all those eyes, Rohid braced himself, expecting something ordinary—or worse, disappointing.
Finally, he took a cautious sip, eyes closed as if drinking bitter medicine. The room fell silent.
But then, to everyone's surprise, his eyes flew open, wide with delight.
"Wow, this is amazing!"