Lutfi Gilang's

23. He's my turn

i

I was invited to enter Gilang's room.

“This, his room.”

It was a room with a size of roughly 3 by 2.5 meters. A more appropriate room is called a library, because it is full of books on a shelf, just like in a library. But neat, not to be considered as a man's room, or maybe Gilang was already berberes before picking me up.

“Usually, anyway, it is neat, but it is not as neat.” said Mamah.

The walls are tosca green. There was a silhouette made of a series of letters that turned out to be all about me. Starting from the full name, the name he gave me, classes, schools, boarding houses, habits, and various views of Gilang about me. Made exactly like me if photographed from the side. Below it is written:

“Hopefully painted ga angry. —Gilang 2010.”

“That's your picture.” says Mamah. “Like?”

“Like, Mah.”

“There's more, which he made about you.”

“What, Mah?”

“Tuh.” Mamah said as she pointed at the bookshelf.

I approached and took one by one to look at the cover. “This is made in Gilang, Mah?” ask a question after picking up a book titled: “Black” Ink

“Oh, if it's not wrong it's poetry. Try bringing here.”

I approached and sat on the side of the bed to the left of Mamah, and gave her the book.

“It's made in Gilang, Mah?” I'm nanya again.

“All the books, he made.” said Mamah.

I was surprised, there were at least over twenty books. I really didn't expect him to be so eager to be a writer.

“Bentar, Mamah search first.” he said while flipping sheets. “Oh, here it is. The title is Lutfi, he he he.” said Mamah with a volume like whispering and looking at my face.

I accepted and read it.

“Lutfi”

If it is alive, full of mystery.

Love is like a riddle.

When you die, it is always surprising.

If you, I idolize.

—Collect, 2010

Suddenly, I immediately remembered the writing I read secretly first, in the book Gilang. I didn't expect him to enter me into his work even in print.

Open the next sheet.

“Do Not Go”

Fi, don't go

Especially with another man

There will be me in your heart.

—Collect, 2010

I'm not going away from you, Gilang. “Merinding, Mah.”.

He just smiled and looked at me, as if there were more.

“Lutfi Two”

What do I say about the vehicle, you?

Slippers, SD time

Bicycle, SMP time

Motor, SMA time

Come on, I'm gonna go for a walk with you

I want you

—Collect, 2010

“Ha ha ha, good, Mah.”

“Back of adalagi.” said Mamah as if he understood very well the contents of this book.

“Gilang”

I'm not Buya Hamka,

who is good at coalescing words.

I am not Habiburrahman,

who is good at writing great stories.

I'm not Hanung Bramantyo,

who is good at organizing all elements of film.

I'm not exactly Ramadan Iqbal,

who is good at role playing.

I'm just Rizky Gilang Kurniawan,

sitting next to the dream woman.

—Collect, 2010

Dream woman! My heart exclaims.

“That's all that Gilang likes.” says Mamah.

“Oooh...”

“Yes, all boys, just those four guys. Plus one more.”

I actually directly trapped his father. But still it is: “Who, Mah?”

“Syakh Rukh Khan.”

“Hah?” I'm tekajut.

“Iya. The Hollywood movie player. Mom likes it too. He he he.”

I laugh too, but I don't know who I mean. Anyway, I just thought that Mamah and Gilang like Indian movies.

“She didn't want her parents, like the other kids. The girl who wants you to doang.”

“He he he.”

“Ya has been read again.”

“Allet alone, Mah?”

“Lutfi Three”

If it's cake, what do I say, you?

Chocolate bread? A bakpao?

A donut? The nopia?

Come on, I'm gonna eat all that.

I want you!

—Collect, 2010

At that time, my feelings were like soaring into space.

“Mamah, can Lutfi copy?”

“Ga no, the book was brought aja.”

“Ga anything, Mah?”

“Iya.” replied with a smile. “Make you.”

“Still, Mah.”

I don't know why I hugged him. And he hugged me like he didn't mind.

“Eh, it's noon. Let's go to the kitchen, yuk?”

I nodded following him out of Gilang's room and went back to the living room to pick up a large crackle and I put a small book next to my bag.

Arriving at the kitchen, while taking out the ingredients that Gilang and I bought earlier, I tried to melt the atmosphere.

“Cross, love what cuisine, mah?”

“Kangkung.” he replied while showing the vegetable to me.”He that, every day this masakin, will not be bored.”

“If Lutfi is instantly bored. He he he.”

“Mamah is also like that.” He got up and took the basin and handed it to me.

I talked to Mamah, while my thoughts continued on Gilang, because it had been an hour and more he had not returned. I was worried, he went where it was, kept forgetting me. Or, he plays with his friend. Well, it could be bad if it happened that way.

🌹🌹🌹

ii

Vegetables, drinks, rice, spoons and forks, all of which are neatly placed on the table. Maybe it's been an hour and a half, Gilang left and hasn't come back. Even after Ivory came home and sat in the dining chair, he had not returned.

“Mana, Mamas?” asked Mamah who was sitting next to Ivory.

“That, sleep on the terrace.”

Huh huh? I was surprised, I just got out of my seat and went outside. Shocked I saw Gilang was sleeping soundly like a victim of natural disasters.

Wake slowly.

He woke up slowly just like in class.

“Why do you sleep there?”

“I'm confused where to go, same Mom, also told out.”

I laughed when I heard it. It felt like Gilang had just made a mistake of continuing to be punished for sleeping outside. Engga.

“Means from earlier you didn't go-go?”

“Engga, there will be you in my heart.”

The deg! I remember the poem he wrote. Glad I finally heard that sentence coming out of Gilang's mouth.

“Yes, come on in. Mamah told me to eat together.” I said.

“Iya.” said.

“But wash your face first.”

“Iya-iya.”

I entered the house while walking along with Gilang. It feels like a couple of lovers who have lived in the house.

Gilang and I immediately joined Mamah and Ivory who had sat facing the dining table, after I accompanied Gilang to wash his face.

“Nah, let's eat Mamah's collaborative cuisine with De Lutfi.”

“He he he.” I laugh.

Looks Gilang and Ivory stormed the bowl containing sauteed kale that I and Mamah cooked before.

“Heh, do not wrestle.” exclaimed Mamah after Gilang and Ivory scoop wars like a knight fighting over a treasure chest with a sword.

“That's Mamas.”

“Yeee... This is right, Kak Lutfi cook for Mamas.” said Gilang.

“Ih, this is Mama Cook for Sister!” timpal Ivory does not want to lose.

Feeling nervous, I immediately took the bowl and divided it for the two of them.

“Still, Brother.” says Ivory.

“Still, Fi.” says Gilang.

“Well, that should be. Fortunately, Gilang like you.” said Mamah.

Hearing that made me feel like I was the woman of my dreams.

We had lunch together, the four of us while Mamah explained that Father Gilang worked out of town. Go home once a year. He was just as strange as Gilang. Maybe because Gilang's father was still a baby, he had to suckle to eight mothers, which could eventually affect his personality. And the eight new genes obtained from Dad, passed down to Gilang.

Then Mamah told me about the habit of Gilang at home who continued to meditate in the room, difficult to eat, difficult to build. Even once fitting opened the curtains of his room, said Mamah, Gilang shouted: “Mah, do not open! Later I'll vanish”

“Ha ha ha, what is a vampire?” I cried with excitement.

That day was the happiest day for me. I am happy to be at Gilang's house. Can gather with Mamah, Ivory, and Gilang.

Gilang who once sent a letter through Ateg to help me find kostan, through a physics package book to help me master the task of nomot five who is difficult seambrug, help me take absent from Language class, IPS, IPS, and tenth grade. What kind of shape equates to that? Simple but very lightening to my burden.

The crossbeam that once gave a cube-shaped hanger gift with full Islamic nuances. Ordinary, not as luxurious as a pendant or gold gem, but full of meaning, as if giving me additional memories to keep my religion strong even while in school.

Gilang who once helped me get home to the hostel with a garbage cart, storytelling to help me sleep soundly. Ah, I think I'm very special.

The brilliant who once noticed the small changes in me, which not even others saw, spoke with all sorts of words that always made me happy for a moment. Although what he said was not words of love, but able to grow love in the heart that I closed tightly.

The cross that made me feel comfortable, just like when I depended on my father was arguably even more so.

It's a cross that makes me feel safe, like he's managed to get rid of everything that could hurt me. I know, he's not a spiderman like the character he really likes as a pahlawna figure of his idol, but to me, he's better than the spider man.

Gilang may not be a good man, for everyone of course, he seems lazy because he always sleeps in class. But it was because of his illness, and as night fell, Gilang spent his time producing work, not messing around. He, really serious about living in the time when he should have acted as a child his age, having fun spending time with less meaningful things.

Gilang may not understand the theory of how a man should treat a woman, but everything he does can make me feel special than other humans, even his parents. Being the happiest woman I could ever imagine, without the need for her to over-treat me to make me feel more.

In fact, Gilang who secretly idolized me, and said directly, really at that time, I also idolized him.

Maybe I was too exaggerated in judging him, as if he was understanding, as if he was great, as if he was a hotshot, as if there was nothing bad about him. As if he was perfect. But, you should know, this is my right to judge it so. You will also think the same way as me after knowing Gilang, but sorry, I will never let that happen, because he is my Turn, he is mine in High School.