Lutfi Gilang's

4. Assistance and Alleged

i

That morning, after returning from the mosque to perform the Fajr prayer, I saw a notification on my smartphone. It was an email from Lutfi Eka, my friend and Lutfi in college.

I opened the message.

"I haven't seen Lutfi until now, if I meet him later. I'll call you again. Oya, these are the PGMI-A class numbers I have."

Below it are thirty names with their numbers.

Immediately I replied to the message: "Thank you for the help." Then save the number of my classmates first. Then sent the same message, with the intention of asking if they had met Lutfi lately, and if they met Lutfi I asked them to tell me immediately, AS SOON as POSSIBLE!!!

Most of them replied in brief: Okay.

And most, especially women, ask if there is a problem and so on. But I just answered: "We're playing hide and seek."

Silly indeed, but I am sure with that answer they will no longer ask me many things. Of course, they will be lazy to ask me the real events and will find out for themselves what really happened. And indeed, for me, explaining to them one by one would only be a waste of my time to seek information to other friends. After all, Lutfi Eka herself already understood about my problem, hopefully she explained to them, my classmates used to be in college.

I changed my clothes, and started to heat the engine. Today, I should really get some information about Lutfi, somehow.

Apart from longing, worrying, and fear of being whipped is not a frenzy in the chest; two more days, we—aku and Lutfi— should attend the meeting held in Jakarta. It was a meeting to discuss our new book, which until this moment I still could not decide what kind of story I would make.

Said my old editor, Mr. Zurri, the meeting will be attended by the editor-in-chief, marketing chief, and company director. So, I was strictly forbidden to make a mess by intentionally not being present, or coming up without bringing results.

He also said, because of the contract I signed, however, I should be able to finish my collaboration book with the company in the next two months. If not, I have to prepare to compensate by paying a fine of up to Rp. 50,000,000,-.

Ah, I feel that the zeros are mostly. It should be three, so it's the same as the price of ice pop at a roadside stall.

At first, I thought, making books for two months was easy, and I often did, especially with Lutfi as my editor, the contents of the book I made became more interesting and quickly finished working.

But now, that reality is changing like an unprecedented impossibility, and I will not be able to replicate it in the future.

The disappearance of Lutfi without a trace made my life completely chaotic. Not only a matter of work, of course, also a matter of heart that you have read in the previous two chapters.

My smartphone rang, displaying a new number. At first I thought it was a trickster number that people were talking about. Calling early in the morning or at night, telling you if you can get a special gift and have to send a down payment of several hundred thousand or several million to the account number mentioned. So I rejected it.

However, the number came back to me, two, three, and four times. "This is a very brave man." grumbled my heart.

On the fifth phone I received it.

"Hello," I said.

"Why do you keep dying?!" sound in there.

"Who, huh?"

"Najib,"

"Oooh. Kirain called the trickster."

"Eat it, next time it's confirmed first. Don't play teleject phone!"

"Sorry, sorry. What was? Tumben telfon." I'm nanya.

"I heard from Ferizal, he said you're his fiancee, what's the truth?"

"Yes" I replied.

"Pst! I'm not sure if I wasn't invited?!" He grumbled.

"Wedding is just family. If it's a wedding, I'll be a shrimp."

"Promise, huh?!" his insistence.

"Yes," I replied quickly. "yes, Jib—"

"I know," the serobot. "Ferizal told me everything."

I muttered. "Where is he from?"

"Goddess. Tohirin also knows. I'm calling you for mastiin, really not if Lutfi says."

"Yes," I said languidly.

"Thank you, Jib."

"Tohirin and Irkham said they wanted to dance again around Purbalingga. Ferizal also wants to muter-muter Patikraja."

I creeped, felt very helped with their help, friends of my time became a santri in Pondok Pesantren Al-Qur'an Al-Amin, Purwokerto who was taken care of by Dr.K.H. Ibn Mukti, M.Pd..

"Where are you going today?"

"Cilacap, it's like."

"Ga!" abugn. "Cilacap there's a Goddess. My friends are also some who work on the beaches of Cilacap."

"Oh that way, hasn't Dewi returned to NTB yet?" I just try to be enthusiastic, while reducing my guilt to trouble them.

"Not yet, look for a candidate like him. Ha ha ha...." She laughs. But to my ears, the laughter was just trying to melt the atmosphere. "Yes, anyway you do not need to go to Cilacap, especially to the beaches, have many who want to go to sono."

"Yes, thanks Jib."

"Yes together Bro. Friends need to help each other."

Once again, my heart was moved to hear his words.

"Yes, that's it. I'm saying yes?"

"Yes,"

I closed the phone after answering Najib's greeting.

My heart felt a little relieved, because my old friends wanted to trouble him to help me find where Lutfi was, even though I felt very uneasy making them hassles.

But anyway, right now, I do need their help, because in fact humans are created with a social spirit, which requires the existence of others. Even if they are introverted, or blood type AB.

Like me who from the beginning is an introverted human being and has blood type AB, still need others in living this life.

In the past, during Elementary, so afraid of others, when the class teacher at that time did absent to know his students one by one, when my turn came, my name was called, my name was called, I immediately cried and ran out of the classroom as quickly as possible to immediately take cover behind Mamah's embrace. That's proof, that I need someone else for my shelter.

It's weird, but it really happened.

Continued to the SMP period. I was known as a no-nonsense student, because I was always surprised when my name was called. And just a little bit of a close friend. Yeah a little, just one. His name is Andi Wibowo, son of Mr. Saliyo. That's what I remember from before until now. I hope he doesn't hate me. He's....

Despite being the extracurricular chairman of pencak silat, I am still an introverted me. Hate to explain and show basic movements to new members.

Once I had to show the movement of the horses in front of all students of SMPN 2 Wangon in order to show off extracurricular pencak silat during the event MOS. And at that time, when all eyes were focused on me, I was silent until I fainted because I was so afraid of being seen by many people, because at that time there was no Mom who I could hug to take refuge.

Not only that, but there are many other silly stories. And I don't seem to have to brag about my flaws.

However, I am an introvert, who is an AB still needs others in this life. Like I need Lutfi in my life, for the sake of making me comfortable, for the sake of smoothing work, and for the sake of getting offspring. He's....

I locked the door, then ran my bike to Ajibarang, Lutfi's house. I hope he returns home.

"May you come home, baby."

🌹🌹🌹

ii

I arrived at the white-story house owned by Mr. Chudori located on Jl. Miftahul Huda Mosque Gerumbul Kalilepa Pancurendang Village Ajibarang Subdistrict.

I knocked on the door and said my greetings. Once, twice, and three times. Still no answer.

I gave up, then sat on the porch with my head down. Ignoring everyone who passed in front of me.

It's not my intention to intentionally not try to ask them. Just as I was just looking towards them, they hurriedly left with waving hands while showing a fearful expression.

What the hell's going on? What rumors have spread among them? Is it possible that they were actually told to shut up to hide Lutfi's whereabouts? Butwhy?

I got up, facing the house that gave me so many memories with Lutfi, that the entire owner of the house disappeared without a trace.

Is this really magic? Or is there a secret room? Or is this a test I need to complete?