Lutfi Gilang's

9. Trapped

i

The train just stopped at the station. The door is open in turns. Then people ran in and out.

I just got up and put the kid in the chair. Take my backpack from the upper trunk. Then step away.

"Wait, can you please call a pelvic guru?" her door.

"Replave?" I wondered to myself but didn't make a sound. Just making a confused expression.

He chuckled while scratching his head. "Well, my innate is a lot."

I looked away, looking at someone else. Showing that I was trying to reject her very troublesome request.

"I beg you" he asked again. But I kept my eyes off.

With a heavy heart and a heavy breath, I nodded. Get out of the car and sweep your eyes. Looking for a man in a shirt and knee-length pants.

When I found out, it turned out that the person had been ordered to carry someone else's luggage. I'll look for another few minutes. But then rushed back into the train after hearing the announcement: "Told to all the passengers, that the train will leave in one minute...."

"How's it?" He asked when he saw me.

I'm shaking.

"Well... What am I supposed to do, this?" tanyanya while pointing at her equipment. Two suitcases, one large bag, and three bags of women he had carried plus a toddler who was fast asleep.

Feeling that there would be no one to help him, I had to approach him by exhaling several times. Praying to God, so that if Lutfi accidentally saw me, he did not misunderstand like the people who rode in a carriage with me before.

I carried my backpack in front of my chest, and hers behind my back, while pulling one of the larger suitcases.

"Thank you" he said.

I nodded, looking back at him.

🌹🌹🌹

ii

After going through the crowd and arriving at the side of the highway, we repeatedly called taxis, most of which were first seized by other passengers.

"Oh, no part." he lamented.

I shut up, looked around. Trying to find a ride. I hope I can find a taxi as soon as possible so I can separate from this woman.

Yes, however, I cannot possibly linger with other women, because I already have a lover and even got engaged, even though my fiancee is now disappearing without a trace. But, if the condition is reversed, of course I am not willing if Lutfi has to linger with other men.

"Try me to order a taxi online" he said.

I grunt. Why not from earlier?! Ah.... But I didn't say anything. Stay on my previous battery.

"Oh, I forgot the contents of the package" he added, making me more upset. "Oh, the battery is low." he lamented a few minutes later. "Well, yeah, yeah, well. his phone's dead."

I looked at him furiously.

"Ma-sorry." he said while putting both hands together in front of the face.

I turned back to him. Then wave your hand towards a silver minivan. Then he approached her as the car stopped across the street.

"Excuse me," I tried to be friendly.

"Yes" the driver replied, lowering his windshield.

My eyes crept out quickly, looking at the entire empty part of the car.

"Sorry sir, can you take a ride to—"

"Oh, Mas.. I'm in a hurry again." sobotnya.

"We pay!" saut the Mother quickly. Very quickly until I was unaware of his arrival.

"Oooh, then, I may." replied the driver, rubbing his hands together. Push a button on the steering wheel, and let us in.

I keep both backpacks in the trunk of the car, and two suitcases in the back seat. As I was about to enter and sit beside the driver, he suddenly protested.

"Well, her husband's future ahead?" The driver.

"His husband?" The mother asked, as if surprised by the question.

I thought he would ask that. So I didn't respond to him.

"Sit's just sitting behind me, take care of my wife and kids" said the driver.

"Sorry, Sir. He is not my husband." replied The Mother ahead of me.

"Disappear" I replied.

"Ooh. Edi Suparwoto," he said.

"I'm Risma, sir. And this is my son Dimas." The Mother wailed.

"Wait, wait!" he said he forbade me to sit. "I'm not asking for acquaintances,"

"Keep, what, sir?" ask The Mother.

"OK, this one's Mother Risma the same Dimas her son. Well, now, that's the problem, Mas Gilang this, who is Mba Risma? Don't-don't fuck her, huh?"

I sighed hearing his extremely unreasonable accusation.

The mother replied with a stutter. "Bu-bu. Yes ... no. She, she, she's not my affair, really."

"Well, how come she's nervous?" the driver hesitated to help us. "I don't want to help a couple who are not clear about their relationship."

I heard Risma grimacing. And from the corner of my eye, I could tell that he was confused about how to explain it to the driver.

I shook my head, then stared intently at the driver. Showed me my identification card.

He read. "Danu Banu, author of fiction and non-fiction books from the company 0000."

The name of the company I deliberately censored, so as not to reduce the company's imaging if there will be something that is not wearing from where I work.

"Oooh.... So this nulis Masnya?" said the driver while pointing to a book called True Muslimah.

I agreed with a nod. Resisting my shock.

"Try, sir, pinjem" said Risma as if she had been familiar with the driver.

Mr. Edi handed the book to his mother for free.

"Oh, it turns out I met the same author directly. My great smile, Mas." he said in a tone that did sound very happy. "Come on Mas, go in Mas." he asked. "But then don't forget to sign my book, huh, Mas?" He asked without further ado.

I'm nagging. Back pull the front car door handle.

"Don't be in front, Mum. The back drop." stop it.

Lah's....

"If it's ahead, I'm afraid. There's trauma being scuttle."

For me, front or back, if the intention is begal, still do not say anything. After all, the begal must always carry a sharp weapon or a gun, even though he did not know it was genuine or a lie. And of course I don't carry that kind of tool. Besides, do I look like a criminal?

"Sir was ever scuttered?" serobot Risma, kept busy reading the contents of the book, as if he had known Mr. Edi long enough.

"Yes..ingga, heck." replied Mr. Edi.

"Well, what, sir?" ask Risma again without taking her eyes off.

"There have been many cases in the news, Mba."

"Emang, in Jakarta is still there, sir?"

"Oah, a lot of Mba Risma. I thought it was all bad." explained the driver.

"If so, it should be us who are ordinary people, who begal them. Ha ha ha.." he laughed in the air-conditioned car.

The driver laughed too. "Ha ha ha. Mba, if you can."

I am silent in a stirring mind. "When are you guys talking? I've been cape standing by the heat."

As if knowing my incompatibility, the driver again asked me to get into the car. But stay in the back seat.

I snorted, but finally complied. Back in my heart grumbling my misfortune today, and still hoping that Lutfi would forgive me even though I wasn't sure of it.

One thing I have not explained to you, I was forced to drive the Mother to her house because of her luggage, and because the money in her wallet was only Rp. 29,000,-. More than that, his ATM was lost despite searching repeatedly in the bag.

Ah, I'm really upset with Risma's family. A boy who ended my dream, disturbed me, confessed that I was his father to spread slander to the passengers of the Purwokerto-Jakarta train; not to mention his mother—Risma, not to mention accusing me of child kidnappers, not to mention, trouble me by asking for a pelvic floor, trouble me with his luggage, and again trouble me by having to drive him home.

If only there were still Lutfi by my side, of course I could escape the troublesome entanglement of the Risma family. I mean, whatever he needs, I can ignore because I have to take care of Lutfi more. Of course Lutfi can pretend to be sick or have sudden business.

But, my confidence was thinned when I heard the long cry of the boy named Dimas.

The male toddler could also cause Lutfi to be troubled by assuming she was his mother. Not to mention, Lutfi's fondness for small children. It will definitely make him feel at home for a long time with the child. Plus the child who did not feel at home for a long time with the Mother.

Ah, I'm getting dizzy thinking about the various conditions that allow me to be able to escape from the troublesome entanglement of the Risma family.

"Lutfi, help me!"