Lutfi Gilang's

17. Shooting Buyer

i

I exited the building, then walked through the crowd of shooters, and I accidentally met an old friend. Him, Baim. Rizky Ibrahim, his real name. He was my friend during High School, at Wanabakti Pramuka Unit Twig Wangon.

In the past, I was quite active in following various organizational activities. Understandably, AB blood type does like to organize. Check on Google if you don't believe it.

"Hey," I say hello to him who loves me.

"How are you?" He grinned at her face.

"Healthy "I answered. "yourselves, how are you?"

"healthy. Uh, by the way, what else is going on in Jakarta?"

"Novel,"

"Oooh.... is still nulis, too?"

I'm nagging. "You, you're at the seminar too?" I pretended I didn't know he was the shooter here. Fear of guessing wrong.

He's nagging. "Take work. He he he,"

"Snoot?" many finally.

"Yes. It will be sent to the TV channel" he said.

"Ooh...." Immediately, my brain re-emerged the memory in the company of 0000, as I sat in the waiting room and saw the news of the missing person. Yep! Baim might be the culprit. After all, she also worked in the shooting section and did send it to the TV channel.

"Im, I was watching berasi—"

"Yes" he said, "I sent it two days ago. But it just showed up yesterday, sorry?" her door.

"I'm sorry?" my many.

"Yes. You're asking about Lutfi who let it be on TV."

"Huh?"

"Well, go on, why don't you want to be shot too?" He continued to ask.

I was still dumbfounded for a while before finally answering: "It's not me, Im."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't send it to you" I said later. "Two days ago, I was just in touch with the friends at Banyumas."

"Well, keep going... Who sent that info to me?"

I'm shaking.

"But, that info ain't wrong, is it?" He asked with a stutter. "I-I mean, it's not a hoax, right? I don't want to go to jail for spreading fake news, Lang."

"Yes," I'm nagging. "what did the sender say?"

Baim slightly melengos. Trying to remember the memory in his brain. "You're not wrong. But tomorrow, Lutfi and his family are not home."

I muttered.

"That's really?"

I'm nagging. "Otherwise?"

"Yes, yes, he asked me for help to get in the news." he explained. "That's really not you? You don't know me anymore, do you?"

I'm shaking. My eyes are focused on one point. The biggest possibility is the perpetrator of the news.

I do not hate him, I just want to thank him for helping me by sending news about Lutfi who disappeared without a trace to Baim until finally reported on TV. But, I also need to know her true indentias. At least to convince myself that he's not Lutfi.

"What time did he send a message?" I'm back to interrogating.

"But I checked.l "Baim grabbed his phone from the back pocket. Swiping it around long enough. "huh?! The e-mail doesn't exist." He was surprised and showed it to me.

"She e-mailed the info?"

Baim. "E-mail also use your name. That's why I immediately thought it was you."

I muttered, trying various ways to bring back messages that were lost or deleted accidentally. But the result: nothing. "What time is it?"

Baim receives back his hp-own. "Hmmm..want dzuhur, lah, if not wrong."

I muttered. Confer with my brain.

What sent Mamah's message? But, Mama does not understand about e-mail. Hmmm.... What is Father? He also knows about email. Uh, but hp Father, right, together with Mamah. I guess, not them. Did Lutfi deliberately make his own message? What is someone else? What who? Ahh.... !!! Who is the sender of the message?!

"Lang,"

I was surprised to hear Baim calling me.

"What do you think?" He's nanya.

"I was curious about the sender of the message. What's Zaqi?" I'm guessing.

Baim. "Zaqi knows about me too."

"Oh, tumben he's not updet?" I was a little surprised. A moment to remember Zaqi's talk in the swamp Situ Babban Jatilawang, if he knew news about Lutfi from Baim.

Baim shrugged his shoulders. "But most busy work, right?"

"Maybe,"

"Eh, continue... Who do you think the sender of the message is?"

I'm shaking. "I don't know yet. Later, if you have any info, let me know, will you?"

He's nagging.

Then I said goodbye after giving him my phone number, also because I felt the sky was starting to blacken. Baim returned to his task of voting.

Speaking of shooting-soting, Lutfi and I also did it in high school for Indonesian interview assignments.

🌹🌹🌹

ii

School holidays in 2011.

Lutfi and I visited a flower garden in Purbalingga. It is quite close to the highest volcano on the island of Java: Mount Slamet. Even included in the foot of the mountain or the body of the mountain, or whatever, I do not really understand the division of the region and the mountains.

Far, very far for a new High School student to occupy a seat in class X even semester. Moreover, those who ride motorcycles are men who do not have a Driving Permit. Yes, fortunately, today the police are not conducting a street raid. And hopefully they don't do it before we go back home. Aamiins.

By the way SIM, actually I was confused because it was touted as a letter, even though it looks like a ID card. And if you know the ID card, at least you've seen it, you'll agree with me: it's a card.

And, very clear from the extension of KTP: Identity Card.

So, why isn't the SIM changed to KIM? Driving permit card. It is a card, not a letter. Don't you?

Okay, no need to discuss SIM and KIM at length. I also don't want to be considered a smart ass from a government that has a title exceeding S1. We continue the story.

We chose to go far to a garden in Purbalingga because in that place many roses grow. And the plan after finishing the schoolwork, we intend to buy one or two or whatever Lutfi likes.

I hope he doesn't ask to be bought that garden. He is very fond of roses. More than that, the rose is a typical flower from the month of his birth, the month of June.

After explaining our needs and submitting a permit to the owner of the garden—it was indeed a letter, a piece of paper inscribed from computer ink, signed by the principal, stamped the school, given a school stamp, and put into the amplom which was also given the school stamp—aku and Lutfi deliberated for a moment to determine who would do the interview and who would vote.

Since Lutfi insisted on not chatting with the owner of the garden, I relented and complied with his will to have him vote when I interviewed the owner of the garden.

I handed the camera to Lutfi, explained how it worked, and asked him to be very careful because it was only borrowed, not bought, or own.

It seems, here I do not need to write in detail how the interview took place. Because this kind of thing is already a lot on TV or youtube or online sites.

I hope that, without me explaining, you can imagine for yourself how an even-semester X High School boy would conduct an interview. Yeah, not surfing and formal on TV. More to the usual chat that was shot.

After the interview, we bought two roses. One was red, and the other was pink, which Lutfi chose. I myself, indeed the year of the rose yes the two colors are the same white. Although here there are also yellow, blue, purple, and green roses. Of the seven colors, there are also other types of colors. Dizziness is about color.

You know guys, it's just red, yellow, green, in the blue sky. Uh....

Well, if the girl, the color is: maroon red, brick red, heart red, tosca green, moss green, banana midget green, dark green, baby blue, tosca blue, sky blue, sea blue, dark yellow, light yellow, yellow ee .. hoek....

Lupain!

After taking a break, we visited a chicken noodle shop not far away.

Here I will not discuss us who eat there, anyway will not!

Wh why?

Yeah. I don't want to.

Why else?

Go on, don't go to kepo!

He's....

Okay further....

Well, really curious as it turns out? Okay I'm telling a story.

We ate chicken noodles with Lutfi spending a serving of chili at our table, and luckily it didn't make me have to pay triple as before. If you forget, you can re-read in the Sambal Price Enhancement chapter.

Well, it's just like it happened at Purbalingga's chicken noodle shop near the rose garden. It doesn't really matter, so what are you doing? Nyesel is also the end.

🌹🌹🌹

iii

We arrived at Purwokerto in Ashar time.

After finishing praying, I invited Lutfi to eat, again, in a place to eat that is not too crowded visitors.

It's not a chicken noodle shop, it's a rice restaurant. Rice with many kinds of sambal. That's what Lutfi likes. Yes, I did try to make him happy, although Lutfi himself had no problem buying three thousand rames on the roadside. But yes.. his name is dating again, I have no capital, I am ashamed. Right?

Indeed, sometimes the prestige nature leads to waste.

While waiting for the food to come, I opened the camera to check the results of our interview. And....

"Kok, didn't you have that shooting?" I'm nanya.

"Snipples, times." Lutfi answered.

"The purse is sprained in the bag?"

"He he he,"

"Here, there's no koh." I complained.

"Where, anyway?" ask Lutfi as she approaches. "Try opening it up first."

I followed him, and was very surprised after hearing our previous interview but without any pictures! Yeah, just black.

"Black skirt?" Lutfi nanya precedes me.

"I want that too" I grumbled.

"Misrupt maybe the camera,"

"What's the cause of the shaking on the street?"

"Maybe. Try the check."

I'm nodding. Take off the lens cover, and shoot Lutfi. The photograph. "Well, this can be." I said as I showed you my photo.

"Oh yes, this is a picture. Try the video."

I followed his proposal. Shoot it again, and shoot it. "There can be a picture, really." I said.

"Well, how was that black?" He's nanya.

I took a deep breath. "So nyooting, what camera did you see on me?"

"To you, same to the camera as well."

"What part do you think?"

"This, that little box" Lutfi said as she pointed at the camera section.

"Well this one?" my many.

"That's why there's no picture of it."

I flinched hearing Lutfi's reply. Then laugh.

"Why are you laughing?"

I smiled and looked at him.

"Why, anyway?"

I'm taking the camera on the table. "So you're released, aren't you?"

"Engga,"

I'm tickled, again.

"Why, anyway?!"

I'm shaking. "Why not open?"

"I'm afraid of being broken, I'm not being naughty. Open a camera that is not yours. In fact, yours too I don't dare to be uttered."

I laughed more and more at his explanation.

"Why, anyway?! Ngetawain what, anyway?!"

"Too the lens cover is not opened, yes just the result item." I explained while showing it to Lutfi.

His face turned startled, and began to seem regretful to his gaze. He tried to practice it. Then.... "Sorry,"

"Ga papa," I smile.

"I'm sorry, because I'm not doing anything right. Far away to Purbalingga there is no result. Sorry," he said in a very slow and soft tone. His eyes even began to glaze over.

"Ga papa's. I already bought a rose, so there's still a result" I said trying to calm him down.

"Continue... What's the task?"

"Yes, we'll have another interview."

"Yes. I'll talk about you nyooting."

I chuckle. "Yes,"

Waiter's coming. Put our order on the table while explaining what the name of the menu is. Just as he was about to leave, Lutfi suddenly called out to him. "Mr,"

"Yes, is there another addition?"

"Yes Mba, we'd like a little interview."

"Sorry Mba, I still have a duty" he said trying to resist.

"Before Mba, just for a moment." asked Lutfi.

"But Mba—"

"We pay!" Lutfi.

The waiter grinned. Then sit. "What if I could know?"

The duitan eye. My heart.

"School work,"

"Oooh... good Mba."

Lutfi looked at me and with both of her eyeballs, I know, she asked me to get ready immediately.

Lutfi asked a variety of questions in great detail and insistence. Starting from the owner, the history of its establishment, the reasons for taking the menus, the number of employees, monthly income, even the food we have ordered on the table.

The waiter could not answer. Only Lutfi asked about the history of this place to eat, the waiter asked permission to call the owner of the restaurant. So, the question was conveyed Lutfi to the owner of the restaurant who happened to be the owner of a five-headed woman who was doing regular monthly checks. And I'm grateful that we don't have to pay, anymore, for the interview.

From that activity, the owner of the restaurant gave us a sweet-sour grilled salmon dish and three kinds of chili for free!

Waaa....

This was all because of Lutfi's brilliant idea! And thanks to the question that is very similar to an expert reporter, and the lure of Lutfi if the video will be spread on the internet. On youtube, on facebook, or on the web.

Not only that, the other advantage is that we both get the highest marks for X class interview assignments at SMAN Purwokerto. Cockroaches!

Lutfi emang is amazing! I'm grateful to have it, and I'm grateful that Lutfi wants me to.

Alhamdullah....

🌹🌹🌹

iv

Currently in 2018.

Until the mesh, after performing the Maghrib prayer and the Isha prayer at the same mosque, I received a letter that was entrusted to the same neighbor next to the room. I received the piece of paper and thanked him, and then entered my room.

I sat down for a moment to take a breath as I was tired of carrying things up to the third level. Until finally, I decided to clean up my room and then take a shower and change clothes.

While enjoying a serving of rames, I went back to reviewing my smart phone. But, until now there has been no progress on Lutfi from friends in Banyumas, Cilacap, Purbalingga, Banjarnegara, Yogyakarta Special Region, and DKI Jakarta.

Feeling guilty, I stopped eating. Take a moment to enjoy the night breeze. I wish all of his hastening could ease the burden on my brain.

Now, I already know, that Baim was the one who sent the info to one of the TV channels to be then reported. But, I still cannot accuse anyone other than Lutfi of doing so. And if I accuse Lutfi of doing it, there's something else I have to solve. Name: "Where did Lutfi get Baim's e-mail? And why would he make the news that he's missing? Is this all a test?"

Hmmm, there are too many mysteries here. I didn't expect that my life would turn this drastic after Lutfi disappeared without a trace. Like a detective story, ha ha....

I tingled a little with tears. Suddenly the wind blew, bringing the scent of roses from the East. "Is Lutfi in the East?"

I was bowed down, enveloped in endless lightness, as if my journey this time would lead me to failure. The failures I always avoided. The failure I always hoped would never come. Failure.it's a very scary thing.

I looked up, staring at the dazzling rays of the Sky Queen along with the sparkling of thousands of stars. "Lutfi, where are you?"