Go home.

Chapter 2

When they call the neighbors, they can open up

the window then screams as loud as possible—that's why the intonation of the Sumatran outback is rude.

“Do we have to pay them, Shahdan?”

The village elder asked worriedly.

He slowly shook his head, in a meeting a month ago,

“Not a dime, Bang. They do like to hunt***wooden and That is

hobbies of the city. Maybe some

**** will be taken by them, for food or for sale. Only

that's the pay.” Said myfather.

I, who also attended the meeting, can immediately conclude, that is definitely the people who can eat ****. Because of My Mama

at home say many times, ****hallow to eat.

“Bujang!” My father exclaimed from above, already up the terrace

home stage, “You help Mamaak you prepare food. Don't just stand useless under there.” Angry my father

I nodded, immediately climbing the stairs.Fifteen minutes. The twelve hunters were already sitting on a mat, their firearms were laid out in a row in the bamboo hall.

Also backpacks, big flashlights, ropes, straps,

nets and other equipment. I soon found out, judging by the deft movements, they must have been experienced hunters. What I didn't expect was, my father turned out to be very close to the leader of this group. They sit close to the corner

mats, talking like old friends not together.

“From you Bujang.” My father called again.

I, who was lifting a kettle filled with hot coffee, turned my head.

“Come!” My father glared, impatient.

I hurried to the corner of the mat.

“This is my son, Young Taeke.” He pointed at me,

“They're fifteen. His name is Bujang.”

“Ah, you did not say in your letter that

you got a boy, Shahdan?” The narrow-eyed man looked at me, from head to toe, “His body is as big a man as his father. It's like an adult. His eyes are sharp black. I like him. Class

how many are you now?” ask the guy.

My father shook his head, laughed, “Not school. Like his Father.” add

my papa.

The narrow-eyed guy still looks at me, “Kemari, Bujang. Closer.”

I took another step, sitting with my knees on the mat.

“Are you good at hunting ****wooden like your father?”

“Do not expect.” I chuckled, cutting answers, and,

she was afraid her son would get hurt. Child-about

the only.” cut my father.

The narrow-eyed man nodded his head in takjim.

“You want to go hunting later in the afternoon?”

I nodded quickly—even before seeing my Father's facial expression

who sits next to.

“How good! Let's see how much

great you're in there. This father of yours

once upon a time, it was the hunters who

great, give him the gun, he

will drop one by one****

that's"brown that guy.That's a conversation that's too fast.Even before me

realizing it, I have gained

the golden ticket I've been wanting. Half an hour later, in the kitchen of the stilt house, Mamak was unhappy,

his face was sweating because

cooking gulai, looks sour.

But I assure you that

everything's fine. They speak specifically, though,

about hunting permission for me.

“There is nothing to fear, Madah. Your son only goes hunting. There were twelve hunters who went with him, as well as some young villagers. They

carrying a big flashlight, a firearm.

At most your son just scratched a thorn, though,

or his leg was bitten by a leech.” explained my father.

Mamak gawked, staring at the smoky cauldron.

“Come, Medah. Young Tauke asked for it himself, and how many times should I say,

we cannot refuse his request.

I owe everything.”

Mamak just kept quiet, wiping the temple. But it seemed like he could understand it, giving in. Raraest thing

once he gives it when it comes to me.

Don't forget to support me, brother.

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