Lutfi Gilang's

2. The Daffodil Flower

i

That afternoon on Sunday 2018.

I sat pensively facing the swamp in the midst of ripening the rice fields. Birds chirping with gossip people who might have seen me pecking for more than two hours.

My ears hear a lot of them making various hypotheses that most are true: "The other is upset."

But none of their conjectures for the cause of the turmoil I felt was right. In general they guessed that I had just broken up, or cheated on, or rejected, or confused about paying the installments, or even confused about paying the debt.

That's not true, and of course it's wrong. I'm upset because my boyfriend disappeared. Not because of a new person or a third person. Not because the relationship ended. Not because he was bored with me.

He, my beloved, is gone, vanished like he just received some incredible magic. Like a fantasy movie I often watch. He, my lover, disappeared without a trace like an undetectable secret agent. It's like the detective movies we watch a lot.

But anyway, at the end of both films, even all the films made by humans on this Earth, there is always a reason for departure: "No longer love, or is testing love." And that's what keeps my brain working to review the archives of past memories to find out the reason for his disappearance.

Maybe, if only the story in the adventure game—Assassin's Creed— that I often play is in the real world, of course I will use the Animus to dive directly into the past to find out the cause of my lover's departure that occurred today. Unfortunately, it only exists in fictional stories, or unknown realities.

If only my memory was strong, if only the memory of men as strong as women, and if only memory like hardware or software. I, must have known the reason for his departure.

However, God predestined my memory, the memory of men, weak. Not even as strong as the memory of the buffalo, who always remembered who the master was, who always remembered the direction to which they should go home, who always remembered their hordes.

Speaking of the buffalo and his memory, of course it makes me envious. But not for body shape and skin color. Yes, it would be terrible if there were buffalo humans, except in the movie Sun Go Kong. The buffalo man in the film looks dashing and rogue, even though the edges become criminals who must be killed.

Okay, forget about the buffalo man. This is my story of losing a lover, not the story of the apes who preached the scriptures.

The wind rippled, giving air passage to the fallen leaves and flowers, one of which fell and perched on my hand. I stared at the Daffodil Flower with lazy eyes. Bright yellow, it was one of the colors I used to be very afraid of, and fortunately my hobby of yellow has diminished as my relationship with her has progressed. Him, sweetheart.

I still stare in the flower of my birth while occasionally opening up memories of the past.

In the past, about seven years ago, on the Mount of Love Purbalingga, I would feel the distress of being there because at the end of the road many Daffodil flower trees grow. Makes me have to repeatedly feel tense due to the fear of yellow.

But, furthermore, Lutfi patiently taught me to no longer fear the color yellow. Cooking yellow vegetables such as putren vegetables, eating yellow fruits such as pears, wearing yellow clothes, and much more he did; with the intention of eliminating my phobias.

The things he did were quite effective, especially after he told me that the Daffodil Flower is one of the typical flowers of my birth month—Maret—feel fear of yellow color subsided, not as hyper as before.

According to him, every human must like all the colors in this world even though it has set one color that is preferred. And indeed, I agree with that. Of course, God created a variety of colors with a specific purpose. Thus, as a believing and godly being it is fitting to accept all that the Creator has created.

"Wooy!" the young man surprised me. "Continue to sleep."

I looked at him who was looking at me, "Oh, Zaqi." Then back to the Daffodil Flower. "How are you?"

"What did you tell me about the flowers?"

I sighed, back facing the five-faced man with a thin mustache and a short beard. "There's bad news."

"I know." He patted me on the shoulder with his left hand. "Say, you told me this afternoon."

"Ah, you're always up to date." I said languidly.

"Where are you going?" He's nanya.

"Campus, hut, Balaikemambang, Andhang Pangarenan, Bulupitu Terminal, Cinema, square.all the usual places for us to play." I'm explaining.

"Nitip the flyer too?"

I'm nagging.

"Bendungan Kali Serayu, have you?" ask Zaqi.

"Udah." I replied.

"The family in Wangon?"

"Udah. Same, no one wants to tell."

"That means you haven't been kidnapped" he said.

I nodded again, this time with a heavy breath.

"What's the problem, anyway?"

I replied not knowing by signal.

Zaqi. "I've called to the minister guarding Cilacap beach, later if he sees Lutfi, he will call me directly."

"Thank you Zaq,"

He's nagging. "Well, did you talk to Hilmi? He's in Jogja, who knows Lutfi's there."

"Udah. To Basuki too."

"Oooh... Where does he work?"

"Hand."

"Hmmm... which part of Jakarta is already?"

"Udah, to Galih Sama Puryono the same Payment management."

"Paytren?" Zaqi.

"Yes, whose business is Ustadz Yusuf Mansyur, that is."

"Oh yes." she replied. "So there's no problem?"

I'm shaking.

"Well, how can you say? Said you were the fiancee's brother?"

I raised my left hand, showing a circular ring on the middle finger. "I really don't know Zaq."

"Lutfi ain't no more deket same guy?"

I'm shaking. "You know for yourself, we often hp. That Abis, if I don't come, she won't be able to get out of the house."

"Yes...who knows, he again deket another guy eat it say kayak gini."

I let out a breath. "If he's coming back with another guy, why would he accept my proposal try?"

"Yes, maybe I can't help you."

I grunt. Thinking that the talk just now has a point.

"Temenin eat, yuk?" bring him.

"Huh?" I'm making sure.

"Yes, I eat."

"Looks." I replied.

Of course I don't taste to eat. My entire brain is still filled with anxiety over Lutfi's condition. Where is he? Is she healthy? Has he eaten? Has he been drinking? Has he taken a shower? Has he gone mute? And so forth.

Okay, forget my last question.

Which human remains appetite while his lover disappears without a trace, for no apparent reason?

Yes, if you are one of the types of people who still eat even though your lover is missing, maybe your love is not really for him, or maybe your love is very serious but you are willing to eat. Basic greedy!

"Come on, bentar tok. You haven't eaten since this morning either, have you?"

"You're the story, huh?" I'm nanya.

Zaqi grimaced, and again invited me to eat.

Feeling uneasy about Zaqi's treatment, I got up and gave a reason to escape his invitation. And without me realizing the reason was really ridiculous. "Blesson, Lutfi SMS if he has met. I'll go first, okay?"

I know that Zaqi knows that I'm lying. I can judge by the way he expresses himself. Frown furrowed, eyebrows raised, disgusted eyes—like to see people defecate but can not be separated, and lips wrinkled. Yeah, it's just my look at Zaqi, I don't mean insulting that his face is ugly. No. gabe. Of course not. His face is handsome, but a little.

And my silliness only realized after I drove my motor vehicle. Where does a missing person find himself? Ah, I'm so bad at lying. But, speaking of lies I think I remember something.

🌹🌹🌹

ii

When I was in X-11 SMAN Purwokerto, I was satisfied to look at the woman sitting on my right side. I made the fatal mistake of lying to him.

"Why not replace?" ask Lutfi. He was wearing a light blue long sports shirt with a matching veil.

I smile. "The author doesn't like sports."

"Huh?"

"You used to be the chairman of HMS silat."

"Kok, you know?" I'm nanya.

"obvious. What the hell, doesn't Lutfi know? He he he, "He answered.

"I believe." I said.

"Yes, change it first."

I shook my head, then buried my head in my hands. Position yourself asleep.

"Don't sleep!" the yell pulled my arm.

I rise with laziness. "Well, I don't want sports."

"Eleeeh... don't want to exercise, the clothes have been made first."

I was caught hearing his talk. "Sightly?"

He's nagging. Pointing sportswear sleeves that exceed the arms of the OSIS uniform. Then I grabbed my ear.

"Ouch!"

"Eat it, don't lie!" lutfi said while patting my right shoulder.

"Yes, yeah. Sorry."

"Udah, just change it first there. I'm waiting for."

I got up and walked slowly down the table, out of class.

"Wait!" call Lutfi stop my steps.

I turned my body, facing towards him.

"We're going to the UKS."

"Huh?"

"We're going to the UKS, now!"

"Ah, yes."

🌹🌹🌹

iii

In the UKS I was asked to sit in a chair.

"Please take off his shoes" he said commanding me.

"Why?" I'm nanya.

"Shoes off!" he said and pulled my shoes off. Then I was surprised to see blood dripping onto the UKS floor from my socks. "Why?" Very slowly Lutfi pulled my socks.

"Udah, not papa."

He got up, took a cloth and a basin filled with water. Then wash my feet.

I groaned repeatedly withstanding the pain in the wound he washed. It's new, very new. And I haven't had time to treat him so as not to be late when I picked up Lutfi this morning.

And the pain multiplied as Lutfi pressed my legs firmly, trying to take the thing that stuck in my leg. I didn't react. Trying not to react. Just close the eyes, bite the lips, and try not to produce any movement at all so as not to trouble him.

"Beling," he said as he pointed the sharp, clear object at me.

"Ah, yes...." I was at a loss for words because the energy was drained quite a lot, as well as feeling confused. Where does he know.

Lutfi rose up, and brought a basin of fresh water, and washed my feet from the stains of blood. Then layered my leg tear with a sterilizer that I don't know what it's called. Cover my wound with a cloth and tie it with a bandage.

"Drink first," he said as he bribed me.

I obeyed his orders. I look into the face of the woman I love. His gaze was lethargic, his lips were pale, his body also felt much colder. Like he had just done something so horrible for her.

Yeah, true! Of course seeing blood is a terrible thing for a woman, especially if it comes from the wounds of her loved ones.

Ah, it feels like I really suck at having made it this hassle.

"Sorry," I said.

"Ga papa," he said. He sat by my side and held my hand tightly.

I'm sure he's still scared of what just happened. "Drink first" I asked as I gave him my inexhaustible glass of drink.

He complied, then kept it on the table.

"Thank you,"

"Sama-sama," he replied limply.

"Why do you know?"

She smiles. "What don't I know about you?"

I smile. I feel so happy to have and be owned by him.

"Next time, don't lie. I don't like it."

"liying?"

He's nagging. "Lying males participate in sports, do not like sports, this is, that's, but want to do the wound."

"He, uh,"

Lutfi patted my left shoulder. "Basic!"

"As a payment, I'll drop by." I said trying to take responsibility.

"Must!" the insides make me happy. Glad that he still wants to linger with me.

"He.... chicken noodles?" I'm nanya.

"That's it!" He answers.

"The pedes?"

"Yes, take it ten spoons."

"The strong?"

"Strong dong, are you?" He's just mocked.

"Well.... The Sleeping King is not in front of Queen Absent."

"He he he," He laughed.

"He," I did too.

🌹🌹🌹

iv

That is a lie that I regret very much, which must make Lutfi hassles and almost fainting, which lies like any form will still be known to the truth by Lutfi. But, that doesn't apply if there isn't him in my life.

I mean, I could lie because of her absence, because she disappeared, and because I had to keep trying hard in front of other people. I don't want anyone to see me cry, let alone wipe away my tears other than Lutfi.

I'm a grown, 21-year-old man and I'll be growing up in mid-March. It is appropriate a man strong, resilient, and not easily cry.

Although I am not sure, until when I can survive in this condition, the condition of losing a lover without me knowing the cause of his disappearance.

On the motor that was traveling at medium speed, I stared at the flower of my birth. Daffodil Flowers. Flowers that hold many memories of the past, the times I was with him, he, my lover, Lutfi Nurtika. Who now knows where.

And subconsciously, tears crossed my cheeks.

"Lutfi, where are you going?"