Among Thousand Journeys

Nauseating

“Is that Evo?” the voice of the woman in Jauhari's body asked..

“Evo Yulianti Dousand.”

Evo inched backwards, Jauhari's face was black, so the worse, maybe that's what made Evo retreat, I so thought why was that medium not just me, it was me, at least better than Jauhari.

“No way, mom is dead.., no way.” Evo inched backwards.

“Durrect son, after your mother died, you did not acknowledge your mother, quarrel.” Jauhari's body was strangled again, like someone whipping her back.

Kyai is seen raising his hand, his body gestures like holding an invisible person so as not to hit again, and immediately Jauhari did not complain anymore.

“What is the proof that you are my mama?.” asked Evo still

hesitate.

Then the woman's voice nerocos (talking at length) tells Evo from childhood until the time his mother died, about Evo who likes green bean porridge, never want to drink milk, and never drink milk, since childhood, her hair likes to be braided. Not until the story runs out, Evo screams to hit Jauhari but soon

detained by his adoptive mother.

“Oh mom...” cries Evo slashing,

“How's mama doing there?"

"huuu.. huuu, huu, huu, Oh I was tortured continuously.. flogged teru, regret free, why you never pray this mother.”.

“I always pray for mom..”

“But your prayers aren't there, why don't you come in

muhammad's religion, I can no longer be tortured.”.

“Mama...hu.” Evo is still crying.

“I go my son, my time is not much ..Include his religion Muhammad.”

Suddenly Jauhari's body weakened, and collapsed.

“Mama... mama don't stay Evo ma...Mama.”

Evo screamed and then his body fainted, Evo long passed out, while Jauhari had long since regained consciousness, but still looked confused, as if someone had run out of firecrackers right in front of his nose.

While after Kyai channeled prana energy from afar, Evo began to move consciously, because of that event Evo then converted to Islam, learning the prayers of children to his parents. After the ashar prayer, the Evo family left the boarding school, Evo's face was not

sad again, there were clearly strong lines of hope at the bottom of her heart, so that her beautiful face glowed.

“Feb, called Kyai.” the voice of Majid whose face is bent from behind the chest-length, the kitchen separator with the outside world, who calls Feb just Majid, he is my schoolmate in High School. Because he knew I was in the boarding school and then he followed, Majid was the same as me from Tuban just different sub-district, he was from Bangilan, his stature was even a little short, his height was my ear, his face

paspasan, handsome no, ugly he, because his face has holes in acne scars stone, but indeed his hobby is picking acne, if it has been ticking acne, then he will try as hard as possible so that the acne is hit, then he will try his best, when it hits, it's like getting a hidden treasure.

“Gantiin in the kitchen yes?”

“Udah sono, let me who ngurusin”

I immediately stepped out of the kitchen to where Kyai was receiving guests. Seen there is also Mujaidi, apparently called as well, Mujaidi is a santri from Bekasi. Actually at first not santri, but treatment because of drug addiction, after recovering, then decided to be

santris. Mujaidi stature is tall skinny, I was his shoulder, his age was eight dozen, his lips were black, often canker sores, then bleached his skin, his face was a bit oblong, the same as Majid, the same, mujaidi's face is also hollow because of acne scars stone, his hobby is the same as Majid, squeeze acne, if Mujahidi has already pinched acne then he will forget time, forget to eat, forget to eat, the difference with Majid if Majid ticked his acne if it had erupted, the former eruption was rubbed into the wall, but if Mujahidi more professional to try it he used a cloth, so that if the acne erupted, it erupted, the eruption was not going anywhere, the cloth was also moistened with antiseptic liquid. Mujahidi's acne-picking equipment is also quite complete. What I've seen, there are stone times, the benefit is that if the stone is sun dried in the sun, and after the heat then it is affixed, to the immature acne, it will soon ripen, it will soon ripen, there is another number 2000 sandpaper, the point is to sand the acne spots that are too deep. There are also sewing needles, for acne scribbles that are too rooted.

I immediately sat down next to Mujahidi, who threw his smile into my eyes.

“Mas Ian.” Kyai says.

“Iya Kyai.”

“Entar malem, together with Mujahidi follow the same patrol of Pasir Seketi. They need our help, to catch the thief that unsettles the citizens.”

I also agreed, while glancing at Mr. Lurah and his entourage. So after the Maghrib prayer, and the mandatory service, I and Mujahidi left after saying goodbye to Kyai. The dark began to creep, Pasir Seketi village from the pesantren about four kilos away, only had to pass through a long coffee forest and dark grumbul-grumbul terrible, but we consider it common, but we consider it, we used to live in the wild. At eight o'clock we arrived at Pasir Seketi village. In the field of village youths who carry a machete, a machete.

“Who?” ask the fat boy wearing a hat

browner. Behind him stood another young man on standby.

“I Ian.” answered me hard to eliminate

suspicions. Apparently the young man recognized me.

“Oo mas Ian, let's go to Mr. Lurah's house, Mr. Lurah has been waiting, it was said that Ian mas came to be taken directly to the house.”

said the young man while holding me. Followed by the respectful nods of the ten youths, in their eyes radiated admiration as they looked at me and Mujahidi.

Indeed, the story of the pesantren kanuragan Pa**, the slopes of Mount Putri, has become a byword, about Kyai and his magic santri, it makes me proud as well as afraid, afraid one moment their story is proven, because, and we are not powerful, weak, of course they will be disappointed and the name pesantren Pacung is just a figment. The three of us arrived at Mr. Lurah's house, and indeed in the front porch Mr. Lurah had been waiting for my arrival. Seeing me and Mujahidi coming, Pak Lurah immediately welcomed my arrival.

“Ah I've been hoping for anxiety, don't-

don't want Ian didn't come, let-mari.″we were invited to go into the house and sit in a chair. While at the table there are various kinds of fruit, fried, and no matter what food, I eat boiled cassava every day, of course want to taste the watermelon fruit that has been cut into pieces there is a yellow and red color. I glanced at Mujahidi, of course he also felt what I felt, oh right, I saw his jakun up and down very quickly. Because of the spit he swallowed, and subconsciously he stretched out a yellow watermelon, I poked his leg with my foot. It just so happened that Mr. Lurah went inside for a while, called his wife, and his son was asked to prepare a drink, a yellow watermelon....

Seriate...

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