BUCIN STARLA'S HUSBAND
DECEMBER RAIN
“Bu, Starla departs, yes!”
“Tara has not arrived yet. You guys don't walk together?” ask a middle-aged woman with a red shade on the neck.
“Tara again to Surabaya. Hence the shift she I replaced for a week,” said the girl while wearing sneakers in front of the porch of the house.
“Are you not going to ketapean enter two sifts for one week?”
The girl smiled, she sprayed a disinfectant liquid on her hand, after she finished wearing the shoes. “Nothing, Mom. This is still a semester holiday.”
“Ya, already. Be careful, yes. Say hello to Mother to Lani, she has not been home for a long time.”
Nodding, and kissing the back of his mother's hand, the girl immediately came out of the yard of a very simple house.
Starla Meisha.
Nineteen-year-old girl who will soon be entering second semester college. Aspiring to be a great writer like Tere Liye, it was what made the girl with the white bandana take Indonesian Literature.
“Your son has grown into a beautiful and brave girl, Kal.” Devita Maharani, looking at the departure of the princess only wayangnya from the terrace of the house.
Out of the narrow alley of the house, Starla walked towards a stop not far from the alley. He ordered ojol.
The night road was seen to be slow, probably also because the rain had just subsided as long as an hour ago.
Byurran!!!
Starla gaped in disbelief her hoodie was wet with splashes of water from a large puddle in front of her. He thought the owner of the bike would just walk away, but he was wrong.
“Hoodie lo wet.” The bass sound that seemed flat from behind the fullface helmet made him stunned. His voice made me want to marry ya, La.
***
“Assalamualaikum.”
The girl who was holding a snack in the middle room looked up. The clock has shown at half-seven p.m.
“Wa’alaikumsalam, Mi.”
“Which brother?”
“Solat has not yet come down. Sleepiness times,” answers.
“Mami ...,”
Helsa threw her gaze at the source of the voice. Looks like the eldest son will come out. Plain black hoodie, black nevada shorts, maroon converse shoes, and also a full face helmet tucked in his right wrist. Azlan Devandra Van Brawijaya's.
“Mami!!” once again he screeched, and immediately kissed the cheek of the woman who had given birth to him.
“Main.”
“Besok Papi borrow Jeep yes?” said the man in a sky-blue shirt from the door that connects between the garage and the living room.
“Now, Pi. Lastly, Cemara should be car push warning up to POM.”
“Daddy ih. Papi out of car make is not filled with gasoline,” firings.
“The name is also old man, likes to forget,” chirps Helsa quipped her husband.
“Iya deh, which is still seventeen hot,” reply Adryan.
If Devan continues here, the debate will be long and end in nostalgia. Her father likes to reminisce about his mother.
“Devan said goodbye,” he said while kissing the back of his parents' hands.
“Not come home!” helsa shouted as Devan sailed towards the garage.
***
The freedom that Adryan and Helsa give really makes Devan not feel constrained. The night world has become his daily meal. However, one thing that Adryan always insists on him. “No having ***, smoking, and drugs.”
That night with his black ninja, he fulfills the call of his friends at Headquarters. It was not the headquarters of a biker gang, just an ordinary community with 150 souls in it. Acme, the name of the community.
Brums….
Byur ….
“Sial!” behind that helmet. Devan stops the bike and pushes slowly back.
The lighting on the road made him not see clearly how the victim's face splashed water. What Devan knows is that she's a girl.
“Hoodie lo wet,” said. He took out two pieces of red money.
“This what?” ask the girl.
“Lo hoodie compensation,” he said again, pulling the girl's hand and putting money on her palm.
After giving away the money, he restarted the motorbike engine and left the girl alone at the stop.
Starla regained her senses, and looked at the departure of the black ninja man.
“Yes Allah, it's hard to apologize.”
