Lightly Longing

Modus

Although hesitant and a little confused, I approached Mr. Arbi who was already standing in the doorway. His hand was stretched out around my neck, so I remember what he did last night.

"Beautiful, Ta."

I immediately covered the area of his former hand earlier. Means Aisyah just saw this, my mind. He was busy asking about the paper. Oh, my God, it's because of this. I am not holy blood. Hem.

"Come, Ta!" ask him to pull my hand.

"Where?"

"the river."

"Well? Weird, you!"

"Ngangin' it over there. Rather than you being told to cook, mending with me to the river."

"But it's not good for your Mom and Dad."

Mr. Arbi doesn't care about other people's opinions. He kept taking me away. We walked leisurely, Mr. Arbi embracing my shoulder.

"Shame, uh!"

"Ngapain shame. You're my wife."

"Yes, but it's a pesantren neighborhood."

"Well, that's you know! Why not wear a hijab?"

Check me out with something that smells of Islam. Shouldn't bring religion, I said.

"Not to mention this," continued Mr. Arbi who pointed to the trunk of my neck. I closed it with both hands and nodded.

"Hi, girl," he said to the santriwati who passed by while carrying a mushaf.

"I, Sir?" pointing it at myself, I looked at Mr. Arbi and the girl took turns. I patted his arm slowly.

"Can I borrow your hijab?"

"Can, Sir. For a moment, I take it first," said the girl who then resigned probably to her dorm room.

"Don't you borrow her hijab?"

"Let you be more beautiful, dear," she replied, stroking the tip of my head.

"Have Aisyah, there is!" Mr. Arbi turned to his house. "Lazy back again, Ta. Just let it go, the chick took his. Let him have a job."

I'm just raising the corners of the lips, it's up to Mr. Arbi. The territory here is not my territory. Fifteen minutes had passed, the brown hooded girl came. He handed over the cover cloth of the incoming model, as most santri wear.

"Here, make snacks," he said, offering him tens of thousands of dollars.

"No need, sir," he refused subtly and pushed back the money given by Mr. Arbi.

"Udah, fetch. Count my rent, yeah."

"Thank you, sir." The girl was pampering. I'm wearing that hijab. Mr. Arbi put it straight into my head. I let out a rough breath. It looks old wearing a hijab like this.

"Then, I saw my bite marks" he said, chuckling and pulling my hands together to walk into the river that was not exactly where it was.

We walked down the pesantren, away from the crowds of the santri. A small river with large rocks is seen behind this pesantren. The water was clear and there was a small spring across from it. The surrounding forest looks thick with pine trees. It was cold and fresh in the air of this river.

Mr. Arbi jumped in there. The clear water was as small as his eyes, and he asked for my hand and went in with him. Sitting on a medium rock playing with water while telling stories.

"Sir, I'm curious about you" said I, who had a thousand questions in my brain.

"God! Pake was curious, you've seen it all, "his answer was embracing my shoulder. We sat next to each other and enjoyed the environment.

I hit the back of his hand slowly, he chuckled for a moment. "Just ask if you're curious" he said, propping his head up at me.

"Serious answer, huh?"

"Yes, honey."

"Why don't you study in the pesantren?"

Mr. Arbi changed positions. Now, he supported his body, looked up for a few seconds and then turned towards me.

"I can't see you" he answered and laughed cheerfully.

He seemed to think hard and said, "Emh, I don't know. If I asked why, I don't know either. Perhaps, because you are familiar with this environment, elementary school time also studied here. I have a desire to know the outside world behind this."

"But, baby."

"Yes, like my love for you, Ta."

I hit his muscular arm in a row, Mr. Arbi looked grimacing in pain. I was wrong with his appeal. So far, what usually looks quiet is not much talk. I misjudged it, I thought.

"OK, okay. I will seriously answer you" he said, gently rubbing my hand. I grumbled and was lazy to listen to the story.

"I want to go home!" my own threats I don't actually know the way back to the pesantren. Slowly coming down from the rocks, Mr. Arbi came along and hugged my body from behind.

"Do you know the way home?"

"Know!"

"Here, I'm divorced." He was driving to sit next to her with his arms holding my body.

"I don't want to be like Dad, Ta."

"Emang why?"

"In his world it is only about Islam, not knowing the technology and era of the times like today. That's why, I'm going to college outside, Ta."

"You're Kiyai's son, what's his hobby?" Mr. Arbi turned his head, looking at my face fixed.

"Hehe. Just you, Ta. I've never looked like any woman, other than you."

"That's a hell of a thing, anyway."

He just tightened his embrace, I was busy enjoying his warm body. This is my second marriage, a happy beginning.

"Sir."

"Emh, right. Still call sir. Eliminate the romantic atmosphere, anyway!"

"You don't regret marrying a widow like me? You know I was having an affair. You're not afraid I'll repeat the same mistake?"

"Ta, every human being has the right to have the opportunity to change. You're not cheating because you want to, it's just your ex-husband who doesn't care about your presence."

"Certainly? If I do the same thing, how?"

"That's why I brought you here!"

"meaning?"

"Initially, I want you to hang out at the cottage. But, things have changed. You're my wife."

"Sir Ananta, Bang Arbi...!" That voice I know very well. Aisyah standing on top called out to the two of us. Slowly he approached.

"What do you want, Shah?"

"Soner brother wanted Dad." We look at each other, my mind is making a mess. Is there a series of more customs that must be lived. Or kiyai wants to give us both a message.

"Yes, you go first."

"Well, what's Kiyai doing?"

"More ask for white cloth."

"White cloth? What's for?"

Mr. Arbi raises both shoulders, I'm getting curious about the customs here. Honestly, I don't know why I'm suddenly here.

"Come, Ta." Mr. Arbi got off the rocks first and dropped me off. Raise my waist to go down with him.

I was like a little doll to him, one that was easy to play or carry.

"You are a hobby, lift me from the waist."

"I love that part, let alone your ass. That's my favorite now."

"Kiyai's son is like a gini, anyway? There is no cure. Means that yesterday at the peak, mode, yes!"