COBBY

Songo's Twisted

Starry night, moonlight shimmered in the distance. A pair of feet stepped up. His mountain slippers almost broke the weight of a very long journey. Although the breath feels one or two strands, but the desire to immediately come out of the darkness of the forest makes the muscles in his body do not want to stop stepping.

Bathed in sweat, Hasan managed to get out of the forest. He glanced at the silver-colored watch that was in his left hand. It's 7 p.m. A full day he circled round the misty road at the foot of the bead hill of K sub-district.

Hasan now reached the paved village road. A few tens of meters in front of the house lights glittering residents competing with the starlight in the sky.

"Alhamdulillah," Hasan thanked him for coming out of the forest. Although he was currently still confused, it had to go in which direction.

The fatigue that piled up made Hasan's footing waver. His legs trembled and he finally collapsed on the edge of the paved road. On top of the slightly wet grass Hasan straightened both his legs. He sighed, staring at the starry sky. No more heavy fog blocking the view. Hasan was really relieved.

Thirst started to throttle. Hasan had to call for help immediately, he desperately needed water to quench his thirst. But forcing his body to step back was impossible. Let alone to walk, stand now unable. Hasan's leg muscles swell.

As Hasan began to despair, a motor light glowed in the distance. The sound of two-stroke motor exhaust that sounded noisy to some people, but sounded melodious as a helper angel for Hasan. A man wearing kopyah, his age may be about 50 years old appears to ride a motorcycle with his style like a racer winding dodging holes in the streets.

"Sir toloonggg!" hasan shouted while waving his hand.

The motorcyclist stopped right by the road in front of Hasan. Highlights of his motor lights illuminate Hasan's body squatting in the grass. Hasan grinned while adjusting his breath.

"Hey Dik. Why are you in such a dark place? Nyari snail?" ask the biker. He was still sitting on his motorcycle seat. His faint mustache faintly appeared dense in the middle of the darkness.

"Sir, I ask for help" said Hasan Lirih.

"Second a minute. Do not be one of the student groups. . .eh, kliru ding, students who explore. You were reported missing this afternoon, right?" ask the biker.

"Yes Sir. That's my. How do you know?" Hasan asked back.

"Lhooo, I'm Mbah Bayan in the village. Earlier, your friend reported to the village hall said there was one of the students who turned up on the manik hill. It turns out you are, after all," said the father who called himself Mbah Bayan.

"Terus piye's? Can you walk?" Mba Bayan asked again. He was still sitting on his motorcycle seat.

"No strong Mbah Bayan. It felt like my knees were limp," Hasan replied resignedly.

"Lho you know, I'm still young gini kok hankulnya wes kopong. Most of you are, "soon Mbah Bayan.

"Mostly?" Hasan scrunched his forehead.

"Yes, most of the way. .ha ha ha," Mbah Bayan laughed hoarsely. Next he coughed.

"Yok ride not bonceng not deliver to your friends," continued Mbah Bayan after his cough subsided. He patted his own chest.

"Bantuin Mbah's. My legs are stiff," Hasan's pinta slightly whined.

"Get a tight grip" Mbah Bayan told Hasan, who had been sitting in the back seat.

"What's going to speed up Mbah?" hasan asked as he put his hand on Mbah Bayan's waist.

"Lhooo is no longer, mbalap dong. Gas pol brake poll semrinthilll," said Mbah Bayan release the clutch. The front tyre lifted slightly and the motor immediately roared roaring in the darkness.

"Heh, where have you been? Your friend nyariin has been very excited. Maybe at this time they are also not good to eat a drink," asked Mbah Bayan while driving his motorcycle.

"I am the cowboy Mbah" Hasan replied briefly.

"Partially you guys are weird, the bead hill is famous wingit kok even roam there," grumbled Mbah Bayan.

"The place is beautiful Mbah, exotic," continued Hasan.

"I am the citizen here just think you know Mas if you want to go to the forest area there. Oh yeah, what's your name, Mas?" ask Mbah Bayan.

"Hasanudin ibn Wagiman Mbah. Just call Hasan" said Hasan to introduce himself.

"Ohh, do not call Wagiman yes then," continued Mbah Bayan cuek. Hasan was silent. Hasan suspects, The parents who were piggybacking on him may have used to like to participate in the trade.

"You know, on a certain night in the middle of the forest there was the sound of a crowd. Like someone is in the middle of a dream. Though the manic hill is entirely in the form of wilds, where there may be a celebration. The sound of gamelan is most often heard in wednesday pahing or friday kliwon," Mbah Bayan said while stroking his nape elus using his left hand. His right hand was still busy pulling the gas deeper.

"Emmm, is there really no settlement or village that Mbah in the middle of the forest there?" hasan asked while pointing at the foot of the hill full of big tree trees.

"Your hands don't point!" mbah Bayan.

"Yes there is none. The only village closest to the manik bead hill is this Karang village. Uh, but he used to say there was a small village in the middle of the forest there," Mbah Bayan said.

"Now there is no Mbah?" ask Hasan again.

"This is a hereditary story. It is said that there used to be a village in the middle of the forest. It's called the village of Ebuh. It means village of fog. The village used to be a place for people to meditate, starch geni, tirakat, anyway. But over time the village was abandoned, because of the changing times. No one else saw or found any traces of the village. Lost, lost, fused with nature" Mbah Bayan said.

"But there is one more story, a rumor from residents who used to look for firewood in the forest. He said sometimes people see a market in the middle of the forest. Some even shop in the market. Nyampek house confused, wong intention nyari firewood can kok fish cursing, shrimp kali, kayak so. I don't know, really or not I don't know Mas," Mbah Bayan ended the story. Hasan mangosteen mangosteen listen.

The motorbike driven by Mbah Bayan arrived at the field beside the village hall. There stood a tent with a petromac lamp that was brightly lit. There is also a campfire with a fragrant aroma of roasted soybeans.

When Mbah Bayan's motorbike stopped, some people inside the tent immediately welcomed. There were 2 men and 3 women who rushed towards Hasan. The tired and anxious face now looks sumringah seeing the arrival of Hasan who returned after being lost all day in the forest.

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