Lutfi Gilang's

5. Gossip and Favors

i

I decided to take a short break after performing the Dhuha prayer service at a mosque located opposite the Purwokerto SPN, while guessing the greatest possible place to go by Lutfi.

Although my heart has repeatedly cried out that he is not around here. More precisely outside the Banyumas, Cilacap, Purbalingga, Banjarnegara, and Yogyakarta Special Region. But, if not in those places, where is he?

I was shocked when I heard a woman's voice calling. "Bag,"

I looked to the right and left sides, when other people were called, but in fact the condition of the mosque was completely deserted. I looked at the sound source.

She's a woman who has a face my age. The gamis he wore was long until sweeping the pedestal, the back of his hand was covered in black cloth, the hijab was large and neatly covered the chest with the help of a brooch on his left shoulder. If only I did not have a partner, if judged in terms of dress, I could immediately like him.

Yes, indeed, I like a woman who takes care of her aura earnestly.

"Sorry to interrupt" he said without looking at me. His eyes were centered on his fingers covering part of his face.

I shook my head, then switched to my smart phone. Open the game feature, choose it, then play it. I hope, my treatment just now shows that I'm not being bothered, especially by a woman like her.

Not that I don't like his closed appearance. I mean, I've had a boyfriend, I'm engaged, it's appropriate that I close myself off from other women. After all, the appearance of a Muslim woman seems to have been imitated by many thieves, so I just try to take care of myself. Again, not to insult him.

"I'm sorry if I've interfered, I just want to ask the direction to the terminal."

I got up, and pointed to an angkot waiting for passengers on the side of the road. "No, ask the driver."

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Mas."

Hearing her excessive apology made me unwell, so I looked back at her.

His head bowed, his hands together as if he were praying. Then I saw water flowing from the curves of his eyes.

My heart murmured, maybe I will be tricked this time, should I shout? But not necessarily this guy's a thief. Do I have to keep on being ignorant and indifferent? But what if he really needs help?

"Sorry Mas" he said again, "once again I apologize for interrupting the time."

I'm nagging.

"But, if I may, I'd like to ask you a favor, Mas,"

Asking help? At most ask for money. My inner.

"If the woman wears a yellow veil, tights, and jeans. I beg you very much, Mas hold the man and report him to the authorities."

Loh, didn't you ask for money? I wondered to myself. And according to what he said, I did see the woman in the clothes described by him leaving the mosque in a hurry. But, yes, he's the hijab thief?

"It just so happens, my wallet was taken the same way she did."

"Ah, .. i-yes."

He said hello and said his greetings while still apologizing, then stepped slowly out the mosque gate. I let him, sat back down and caught my breath.

"May Allah forgive me. I just take care of myself and keep my relationship. And hopefully, the woman is given the convenience to get to her house soon."

I looked back at my smart phone. Push a button, and call the police.

"Good morning, with Sapto Nugroho here, can we help you?" ask a man with his distinctive firm tone.

Actually, I don't need a phone because the police center is across the street from the mosque. But, I hesitated to come and explain what happened. After all, with the police offices and schools across the mosque, the thieves actually dared to steal near their buildings. So, I feel that those in the SPN are only people who attach importance to police education, not a real police duty in serving the community.

"Yes Sir. I want to report the theft that occurred just now in the mosque opposite the Purwokerto SPN." I'm explaining.

"Well, whose brother are we talking to?" tanyakanya.

"Disappear" I replied.

"Well, Brother Gilang, can you explain the thief's characteristics?" Officer asked.

"Can," I said. "a woman wearing a tanned yellow veil, a tight shirt, jeans, and green flip-flops. He was also holding a large dark brown bag."

"What was Brother Gilang stolen?"

"No, a woman who just came to the mosque."

"How's the character?"

"She was wearing a long light blue robe, a large veil that was one color, and was heading to the terminal."

"Okay, we received this information from Brother Gilang. And we're gonna solve this problem soon, so the victim gets her property back." Officers explained. "We will contact Brother Gilang again, for the continuation of this case."

"I'll wait, sir." I said.

"Thank you for the help, and keep your luggage wherever you are. Always be ready and aware of the perpetrators of the crime" said the officer and ended the phone.

I let out a breath. Get up and step into my vehicle. "It's time for Lutfi again. May Allah make my affairs easier. Aamiin's."

🌹🌹🌹

ii

I arrived at the Baturaden tour at 07:30 AM local time, where the new officers prepared for their positions.

While waiting for them to finish the ceremony on Monday, I sat on the side of my bike while facing the leaflet where my lover, Lutfi, had her face plastered.

There is also a writing: "New proposal December 8, 2018. And disappeared with his entire family the next day. If you see this person immediately call number 087xxxxxxxx."

The number part I deliberately censored in this book, I do not want, you who read my story actually flocked to send messages or call me. Yeah, PD's a little bit of a no-brainer, isn't it?

There is not a photo printed then reproduced, but the results of my hand painting deliberately photocopied as a news leaflet missing person.

I myself, in addition to fond of making up stories, occasionally took the time to make paintings. Starting from scenery, animals, cartoons, anime, face sketches, silhouettes, to photo copies. Not infrequently, people think my painting is a photocopy, so similar. In the quotes "can only be black and white".

In the past, during Kindergarten, when my friends were busy making views in the form of twin mountains, rice fields on the left and right side of the road, the sun, and the birds. I actually made a sunset view on a beach with a fairly appropriate color gradation, in my opinion. And it was acknowledged by my teachers and parents. Although black and white. I'm not very good at coloring.

During Junior High, I often fad to make cartoons combined, if for anime fans call it fusion, like what is in the movie Dragon Ball.

Sometimes I combine Naruto with Goku, Sasuke with Vegeta, Luffy with Naruto, Broly with Madara, Sakura with Bulma, and many more.

Several times, to fill free time during school breaks to save money, I had time to make a simple comic that was quite enjoyed by my school friends. There are even other school students who want to bother paying for my comics.

I still remember the title, "Si Budi Pesek". It was the story of a pug-of-a-kind boy who aspires to be a teacher, but never gets to school because of cost, and has to work to buy medicine for his sickly mother.

Profit from the sale of comics I used to buy silat equipment. So the matter of uniforms, attributes, weapons, bodyprotectors, and others all come from comic sales. No need to bother the parents.

But, making comics is not something I like, and in fact I am not focused in that field. I, in the past, during Junior High, focused more on martial arts, which led me to the National Championship, but only to watch, not to become a race participant. He's....

During High School, I often paint Lutfi's face, especially on special days like Tuesday because of his birth day, but not always, anyway. Most yes ... once a month. He's....

I remember, the first time I gave him my painting, it made us argue for quite a while.

🌹🌹🌹

iii

The clock shows the time of Ashar, but not yet heard the echo of the Adhan who said to each other. I sat in the school gazebo scratching paper to fill my boredom waiting for Lutfi to finish the Princess meeting.

When I was too focused on my actions, I was surprised that there was a hand that immediately covered my eyes. But from the smell, I could immediately guess that it was Lutfi's hand.

I kept letting him.

Five seconds, ten seconds, one minute, and finally he gave up as well. Take myself off and sit by my side. "Kok diem only?" He's nanya.

"You know, you." I answered. Back to work on my painting.

"Can't you know?"

"Your hands,"

"Why my hand?"

"Scented,"

Lutfi wasted her own hand. "Engga, really. I don't wear perfume either."

"Times?" ask me without turning my eyes.

"Yes,"

"Oooh, yeah, yeah. But scented,"

He mutters. "Again what, anyway? Very busy."

"Ih, similar. How, can?"

I smile. Write your name, date, month, and year in the bottom corner of the paper. Turn it over and hand over my work to Lutfi. "Make you,"

He took it with both hands. "Thank you," Then busy looking at the painting himself while smiling to himself. "Kok, can?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Udah of the sonna,"

Lutfi patted my right shoulder. "A snob!"

"He, uh,"

"While you can, you can't be arrogant!"

"I'm just being honest,"

"Hmmm.." he muttered. Keep that paper on his backpack. "Why not paint? Kan tolerable. There are some street painters who once painted can be twenty to two hundred thousand."

"Ga is too good," I replied.

"Well, I could, I did" he said.

"But ordinary, right?"

"Engga!" fielded. "That was great. It's kind of."

"Thank God,"

"Yes, take it seriously, yes, yes...."

"I'm not too good at painting, Fi."

"Keep, if you're nulis jago?"

"Yes.... ordinary as well, anyway?"

"Well, how, anyway?!" He nodded in a greget tone.

"I'd rather be scribbled,"

"Why? If the picture book had more fans."

I nodded in agreement.

"Some, you can still make a story but there are pictures. Like a comic, that is. More people are buying your books."

I muttered. Feeling that what is explained is true and not wrong. But.... "I asked you, may?"

"Can. What do you want to ask, eh?"

"If I write flowers, which you shadow, what?"

"Roses!" quickly answer.

"But if in the comics, already drawn Bangkai— Flower"

"The Time of the Carcass Flower?!" his gerutu snarled at my words.

"He," I laughed.

He hit my right shoulder, again. "Yes, yes, give me an example."

"Yes, yes." I said. "If in the comic already drawn Paper Flower...." I shut up, stopped, waited for his reaction.

"Yes, go on, um, even diem."

"He," I laughed. "If it has been drawn White Paper Flower, it is overshadowed only that one. Flower White color paper. But if there is no picture, the reader can be free to imagine whatever he wants. And no one's gonna turn it on."

"But if there's no picture, it's hard to imagine!" elak Lutfi, trying to refute my argument.

"But if there's a picture it can't be free to shadow whatever you like." I said quickly.

"Yes, anyway!" Lutfi.

"Yes, anyway!" I'm following.

"Ih, so men don't want to give up!" snarl.

"He," I laughed.

"Tau, ah, sebel." He turned his face, turned his back on me.

"Other times, I'll make up stories that have pictures."

"Well, that's dong." he said back to face me.

"But little,"

Lutfi patted my right shoulder the third time.

"He," I laughed.

🌹🌹🌹

iv

"Mas," call the parking attendant to end my daydream.

"Oh, yeah." I got up because I felt bad.

"Wait on who?" tanyakanya.

"Officer, sir." I replied.

"Officer?" He's just another. "What officer?"

"Oh, that's sir, I want this nitip," I said as I handed the leaflet to him.

The father accepted it. "Oooh... it turns out that the sampeyan is again nyari people."

I'm rattled. How'd he know?

"That, loh, Mas, already a lot of people who tell if there is a young man who is again looking for his girlfriend who was lost when he was just engaged." He explains.

I chuckle. Gossip in Indonesia is really spreading. "Oh, is that it, sir?"

"Yes, Mas. Yes, this has been brought to me. I'll ask the officer to reproduce."

"It's okay, sir. I still miss a lot." I said while showing the contents of the bag filled with leaflets.

"Ga needs to, Mas. That'll put it somewhere else. Here, this alone is enough."

"Ga papa, sir?" I asked to make sure.

"Yes" he answered.

"Thank you very much, sir." I said as I shook his hand.

The man nodded and returned my hand. "Later if I or my friends, or traders, or officers who see, will certainly immediately contact Mas."

"Yes sir,"

"The problem is to go somewhere else. Monday is usually a long ceremony. Until eight and a quarter, Mas."

"Oh that. Yes, sir, I'm sorry."

"Yes, be careful on the road. Keep health. I hope his fiancee meets."

I'm nodding. Then run my bike the other way. "I hope the parking attendant really helped me."

The same incident also happened when I asked the officers of Small World, Small Garden, Balaikemambang, Andhang Pangarenan, and Bulupitu Terminal. As if the disappearance of Lutfi has become a hot topic that is being discussed by the citizens of Banyumas. But, none of them saw or knew of Lutfi's existence.

In fact, friends who are scattered looking for Lutfi ranging from beaches, forests, hills, mountains, countryside, cities, recreation centers, shopping malls—gave the same news: "I still don't see Lutfi. I'll try to get back tomorrow."

I really feel bad and desperate. No longer know where to look.

"Lutfi, where exactly are you?"