LOVE SONGS OF LOLOBATA

ARSENIC

In between my panic and fear Bray casually forced himself to make a pilgrimage to Baba's tomb. The responsibility has reached his funeral. Bray assured me that good intentions should not fail because of irresponsible behavior.

"The pilgrimage of the grave is a noble deed. Cooking has arrived here is not a pilgrimage because of this small disaster. We must be vigilant, but that does not mean we have to give up good intentions. Mr. Adnan will be on guard from the possibility of the mysterious archer."

"Mas Bray ..."

"Continue our good intentions! I'm fine."

The command with a smile contains a mouth that I can not deny. I hope this is not his last wish. He was so sure it would be okay. While I was so afraid of losing. I don't want to lose him. Enough of my baba and my nuri who lost their lives to poison arrows. Not Bray. If necessary, instead of arrows I have longed to meet baba.

God, I never demanded to have it even though I realized I had fallen for it.

I can be like this now because of him. If I hadn't met him, I might have been a carcass in the middle of the woods. If he hadn't introduced me to Aga and given me a chance to learn, I would still be a fragile and discouraged Fifa. All the light of my life is on because of him. I owe him.

Despite all her kindness, I still want to enjoy her stunning good looks and see her heart-felt smile. Not a problem from far away. I want to remain his admirer.

Please, God! Don't take his life. Just change my life. I'm willing, God. My life has only been a disaster for the people around me.

Argh... There was nothing I could do to let go of the burden that was pressing on my chest. Shouting shame. Crying is reluctant. Only a whispering heart asks for the help of the Most Giver God.

"Assalamu'alaikum, baba. Fifa has returned from Makassar. Already established friendship with grandmother and uncle Hasan." I quickly conveyed the important thing I wanted to convey to Baba as briefly as possible. I want to leave this tomb immediately so that Bray can help the doctor as soon as possible. Next I prayed in my heart while looking down.

I no longer care whether I can clean the grass that grows on the tomb of Baba or not. I do not worry about pilgrimage without flowers and rose water to sprinkle on the tomb. All my worries right now are for Bray's safety.

Fear and fear still haunts me. Sometimes I look to the side, front and back. I still felt I had to keep watch in case the mysterious archer came again. Every time I hear the sound of a motorbike or vehicle passing by on a road that is tens of meters from the tomb I turn my head. Even a soft sound like a gust of wind or a falling tree branch also makes me fret and glance at the situation around me. Anxiety enveloped my fragile back heart.

"Assalamu'alaikum's chat. Daeng Syarif, my name is Firdaus Sanjaya. I came to ask permission to love Daeng's favorite child. In front of Daeng's grave I promised to make her happy, treat her well, and not betray her" he said, raising his right hand as if to promise the person standing before him. Though there was no one there.

Oops. My hair stands. What's the matter? Bray talks like he's really dealing with baba. Anxiety is taking my brain hostage. This is not a shocking surprise. It is not a joke that brings laughter. I never thought Bray could make a statement of love and promise while her life was on edge.

"It has. Let's hurry to the clinic. Mas Bray should get a doctor's check-up right away." I had to hold her hand without caring she grimaced in pain.

Bray walked out of Baba's grave. Just a few steps away, he turned his body back and waved his hand. "See you, Daeng."

Bray's strange behavior isn't making me flowery and feel special. It just makes me more anxious. Is it possible that people who are almost dead can see those who are already dead? Did Bray's soul really find Baba?

Bray's face looked pale. My anxiety continued. While the person I was worried about seemed relaxed reading something that seemed serious in the mobile app. Sometimes he can be seen frowning and then typing a short message.

Arriving at the main gate of the mine area, the security guard has opened the door. Hisham was waiting by motorcycle. He led us to the company clinic on the 1st floor of the main office building.

"Take the arrows to the lab immediately, Mr. Adnan! Ask the lab officer to immediately research whether the arrow is poisonous or not. After that come back here again. The police will be coming soon." Hisham orders while accompanying Bray who can still walk gallantly into the clinic.

I followed them from behind. Some of the officers who saw us were whispering. I don't know what's being talked about. What is clear is that they must have guessed something bad after seeing the blood-stained white sleeve of his boss's shirt and the multi-layered gauze on his left arm.

Bray and Hisham enter the VIP room of the clinic where nurses and doctors are ready to wait.

I waited in the lobby of the clinic anxiously. Grasping hands back and forth while hoping for anxiety God heard my prayer.

Arsenic. I remembered again the possible type of poison that the mysterious archer had used to coat the pile or metal point part of his arrow. I took the device to find information about the toxic chemicals that have taken the lives of my father and my beloved bird.

From the Republika article I read important information quoted from the 2011 journal Toxicological Sciences, arsenic has historically been referred to as the "king of poisons" and "poison of kings" because of its deadly effects. This arsenic in ancient times was widely used by kings who wanted to eliminate their competitors or enemies secretly. Due to its colorless, odorless and flavorless properties, this poison is easily incorporated in foods or beverages. It is said that the Roman emperor Nero killed his 13-year-old half-brother and possible competitor Britannicus by adding arsenic to his soup. Arsenic was also used by the Italian Medici and Borgian dynasties to eliminate their rivals. In the homeland, human rights activist Munir was killed by food spiked by the same type of poison.

In addition to food and drink, arsenic was used by the ancient Javanese to coat keris to have a pamor and more deadly.

How appalling. It turns out that arsenic is an ancient poison that people have long used to kill their competitors. Various derivatives of the chemical element arsenic are now growing more varied and chemical plants are able to create inorganic arsenic for various industrial uses.

My head throbbed when I read one of the reviews on the website of environmental activists and university research that said that in addition to mercury, arsenic is a waste of harmful toxic substances produced from mining activities.

Hisham immediately ordered Adnan to take the arrow to the company's laboratory. Bray and the people who work in this company must have known very well the character of arsenic because the substance is used in the company's operations.

My mind branched between good and bad preconceptions. The good guess is that Bray will most likely survive because the arrow does not hit important organs such as the brain, heart or lungs. In addition, Bray hastily pulled out an arrow stuck in his left arm and released a lot of blood that may have been contaminated with arsenic poison. The company's doctors must have stock of antidotes. It is not impossible for mine employees to be contaminated by toxic substances accidentally while they work. That's why in this clinic must always be available antidote.

The bad idea is that there may be people in the company who use arsenic poison for crime. The two bikers had been stalking and trailing us so that as soon as they got off the car, they immediately carried out their evil actions. Are they people in the company? Or an outsider who deliberately stalked us from outside the fence of the mine area? Or a collaboration between the two?

A canteen attendant came with a food box. One was handed to me. Others were taken into the VIP room of the Clinic.

"Message from Mr. Hisham, sister Fifa asked to eat first. Afraid of getting sick from eating late."

I'm nodding.

A paranoid thought flashed by. It is possible that the food in this box contains arsenic or cyanide poison. The story I got from a google search about the severity of arsenic poison that is usually mixed in the food of the king's competitors so dominates my wild mind. The story raises new fears.

Ah, masabodos. I hungry. Care about that ancient story. By reading the basmallah I just eat a boxed rice menu that contains rice, chicken seasoning yolk, eggs, stir-fry beans, and sambal roa. As I promised, I was ready to die at any moment. Is not age, soul mate, and fortune in the hands of God?