Anila For Anala

CHAPTER 44 - COLLABORATION

"Kids?"

Anila knew exactly where this conversation was going. The non-fasting woman took a sip of her black coffee before responding to Papi's wishes. "Boy the prayer, yes. After all, why would Anila have to tell the story of Papi to Anila's children? They will know her grandfather directly, really," joked Anila accompanied by forced laughter. God willing, Anila prayed in her heart.

The afternoon sky started to blacken, the mountain fog had already descended, making the visibility shorten. Cold air started to pierce the bones. Anila tightened the parachute jacket to encapsulate the warmth from her body so as not to go outside.

"Alhamdulillah our last fast," said Papi at the end of the dining table of intact trembesi wood that can contain 12 adults.

Among them have come Father and Mother from Surabaya. So shady Mother continues to hold the hand of Anila who has not seen for five years directly. This longing finally broke unstoppable. Anila realized she had spent a lot of precious time for her ambition.

Anila observed the after-goals, the faces of Father and Mother were no longer as young as they used to be. Their days are certainly hard to resist the feeling of wanting to meet the youngest who always reasoned to go home. Anila smelled at the back of the middle-aged woman's hand, the hand with the veins protruding in several parts. Sorry Anila, yes, Bun. Anila promises never to run away again, Anila inner while occasionally hearing Papi who still continues to give directions for tomorrow's event.

"This fire is 13 brothers, six of them one father, six of them one mother. Thank God everything is still complete. Tomorrow they will all come here, with children, grandchildren, and some already have great-grandchildren. Only Papi who has no grandchildren because of late marriage. Uh, I'm sure her kids are following her late." Papi patted the shoulder of Ranala who was sitting on his left side.

"Nobody's late, Mom. All God has arranged according to His time" said the wise father.

"Astaghfirullah, yes.iya right that," interrupted Papi accompanied by a laugh followed by an echo of jokes.

The sound of takbir began to fill the mountain air. Occasionally accompanied by the sound of insects and a goat in the distance. Anila had forgotten the last time she enjoyed the sound of nature like this. His life has been so hard in the last five years, he has forgotten how to enjoy the word 'pause'.

"Rest, tomorrow we work hard" said the voice of the baritone who had just come out of the bathroom in the room of the cottage.

Anila who was sitting while leaning against the bed rest shifted away, giving the man some distance with the still wet hair. The fresh aroma burst into his smell. Surely the scent was tempting to approach, but Anila was not. The woman who was still veiled with a rope chose to turn her back, immerse herself in a blanket, and close her eyelids tightly.

Anila has not been interested in establishing more intimate communication, other than the 'yes', 'no', or 'yet' reactions'. His heart still refused.

"If my heart has not been able to forgive how, Ummi?" tanya Anila through a short message that was sent to Ummi–istri ustadz Rahmat.

"Ask the owner of the heart to be able to apologize even if the person who hurt you does not ask for it. For forgiveness is not for him, but for himself. By forgiving, it means that teteh has helped the liver wound to heal faster." A reply that slapped Anila as well as giving an answer why her life was not also calm in the past five years.

O God, guide me to take the message of all events. Realize to me that all that has been and will happen is your taqdir. Make every Thy word, take me tighter to Thee. Open my heart to forgive. O Allah, forgive me my sins and the sins of those who have hurt me. The prayer that Anila offered in silence one third of the night. Despite the obstacles, Anila still did not waste time mustajab to ask.

...***...

With all white clothes, Anila, Ranala and all other family members welcomed the arrival of Papi's sisters. One black mini bus was directed by Ranala to park in the front row, followed by a red mini bus, dark blue, white, black again, and more until Anila confused to identify every vehicle that came.

"Yes, not all this. This is only a troupe from one grandfather," replied Ranala lightly and proud of his extended family.

The woman with the white robe widened her eyes when she saw behind the car door that there was not only a group of adults, but the little children who immediately scattered to and fro as if they had long held themselves in the car.

"Mas, plates, spoons, our glasses are not enough, are they?" Anila's worried.

Ranala patted her forehead. "Duh, yes, really. How then?"

"Yes, Mas stand by in front while nemenin guests. As soon as you see the empty plate, pull it, bring it back. I stand by in the back to wash and dry," Anila suggested.

"Okay, all I monitor the food that must be refilled," Ranala added.

"Yes. I kept the food warm in the back so it was ready to be served in case the one on the court table ran out."

Ranala and Anila welcomed the guests who counted more than 100 people. The whole seat is full. The entire remote corner did not escape the existence of the people who formed their own colonies. There are appropriate age, gender, or similar professions.

Anila flashed a smile every passing few while asking kindly. "Who is this? Whose son?" Anila could not even remember one by one her name. Just a quick glance, then return to the dirty kitchen where the pile of dirty dishes and glasses are located.

Ranala is no less busy. Many times he entered the dirty kitchen with a pile of garbage he threw into a black trash bag and put a plate complete with a spoon that was still straw with leftovers. "An, the meatballs are running out" Ranala reported.

"It's already boiling the sauce. Please put the meatballs in, Mas."

Ranala searches for the existence of meatballs, after finding them, she puts them into a boiling sauce and closes the panc again to speed up the meatballs to ripen. Ranala's gaze turned to Anila who was in the midst of the hassles of washing dirty dishes. Her hands were full of soap while the rectangular hijab dangled down until the tip went into the sink.

"Sorry." From behind Anila's back, Ranala took the wet end of the hijab at the end. The hairy hand raised the veil towards Anila's neck and turned it over. The activity caused the man's chest to touch Anila's back.

"I'm ahead again," Ranala said clumsily after a split second of their bodies rubbing against each other.

...***...

...Something dag dig duh der tuh.... 🤭🤭🤭...