My madam, my poison
A worry
"Give me my wallet!" my yelling.
The treatment I got from that man was unexpected. He kicked me off the bike and made me fall on the grass.
"Yes Allah. You okay, son?" said my mother as she walked up to me.
"Murkey! Snatch it!" shouted Mr. Amin while chasing the two. Looks like those two snapshots are fucking. The motorcycle they were riding actually fell mired into a hollow road. Quickly Mr. Amin ran up to the two men and took back my wallet.
"Racaine! Kualat you guys! I'll report to the police to have you arrested!" exclaim mr. Amin.
"Don't report us to the police, sir," said one of the men, holding his knee bleeding from being hit by a paved road.
"We promise, we'll repent." The other man who also suffered a wound on the elbow of his hand was chimed in.
"How is this, Mom?" ask Mr. Amin.
I looked at the faces of the two young men in turn. I don't know why I suddenly felt so sorry when I saw the wounds on some part of their body.
"We will not report to you, but on condition that we call the workshop employees to patch our car tires that leak," I said.
"Ba-ba-alright, ma'am."
One of the men then took his cell phone and rushed to contact someone.
About ten minutes later, two men were on a motorcycle. Both also carry tire fillers.
"What's wrong?" ask the workshop employee to the two snatchers.
"We're on apes!"
"They are qualities. Snatched Zura's wallet, but it fell, " explained Mr. Amin.
"Either, if you help the person who is sincere, do not expect a reward" said one of the workshop employees.
"Do you know them?" my many.
"They are my friends, Mom. They must have snatched, but it ended up being shit."
"That means Allah does not condone your bad intentions" I said.
"We're totally kapok. We won't be prank anymore."
"You can still ride your motorcycle?"
"Bi-bi-can, Mom."
"Yes, you can leave this place. Don't let me see you guys snatch again."
"Thank you, Mom." The man who was only in his 20s then greeted me.
"We're sorry too."
"Yes, I forgive you as long as you promise not to repeat it again" I said.
"Wait for what else? Go quickly!" gertak mr. Amin.
The two men lifted their motorcycles off the paved road. Not long after they left the place.
"Oh Allah, there are. Do a prank, njambret," I murmured.
"Where are you going?" ask the workshop employee after finishing patching my car tires.
"We're going to a public funeral."
"Oh, is the Cambodian TPU?"
"Yes, Mas."
"Yes, let me show you the way to get there sooner."
Fifteen minutes later we arrived at a public cemetery.
"I'm sorry Zura, Dad. Zura had just visited Dad's tomb," I said as I sprinkled flowers on the tomb navel.
"If you were still alive, you would be proud to see Zura who is now a successful entrepreneur." Mom chiming.
After sending a do'a to my father, we left the tomb.
"A few days ago my late father came to me in a dream" I told my mother on the way home.
"really? Did your father say anything?"
"I still don't understand the meaning of the dream. In the dream I was crying in front of someone's body. Then dad came to me. He took my hand and took me to the park. There I saw a man standing behind me. After I greeted him, he turned his body around."
"Who is that guy?" ask the curious mother.
"Eitherway. I haven't seen her face yet, but suddenly I woke up because Mom woke me up."
"Did your father say anything?" ask mother.
"Dad said it was the man who would be my wound healer."
"Looks like you know who that guy is."
"That man is definitely Gibran."
Why am I this? Just heard his name, my heart was pounding like this.
"Mom don't guess."
"Gibran is a good man, understanding and of course handsome. Even more handsome than your ex-husband" said the mother.
I threw my eyes out the car window.
"How do you feel about Gibran?" ask mother.
"Honestly, I still hesitate to open my heart to men again."
"Pity Gibran if hanged too long."
"Who hanged his feelings? I told him to give me time."
"Let's not until you're sorry if one day the man leaves you."
"I give everything to God. If he is destined to be my soul mate, there will be a way for us to unite."
"I think Ms. Zura fits Gibran perfectly." Suddenly Mr. Amin who was driving chimed in.
"No, you heard. Mr. Amin just said that."
I only responded to Mr. Amin's words with a knotty smile on his lips.
Just as the Maghrib was reverberating, we arrived home.
I set my feet toward the ablution place at the back of the house. I also deliberately made a small mushola there. Mr. Amin is the one who usually becomes our prayer priest.
"You don't pray Maghrib, Fin?" I asked as I opened the door to his room that was slightly open.
"Ehm, I'm an idol, ma'am."
"Yes already."
I just got out of Fina's room, I don't know why my stomach suddenly felt so nauseous. I want to spill all my stomach.
"What's wrong with you, son?" ask the mother who is also going to Mushola.
"Let's go, it's like my stomach's so nauseous."
"Maybe you catch a cold. After the Maghrib prayer later, let me ask bi Ami to make ginger wedang," said the mother. I nodded in agreement.
I thought after drinking this ginger wedang, my nausea would disappear. However, the nausea is actually getting more and more.
"Wouldn't you go to the doctor, son," she said, applying wind oil to my back neck.
"Maybe I just catch a cold, ma'am."
"This must be because yesterday you kept mom in the hospital all night."
"Mom why, Grandma?" asked Lyra who had just come out from inside her room.
"It looks like your mother caught a cold, from earlier nausea."
"Mother, don't be sick. If you're sick, who's preparing school supplies, who's braiding Lyla's hair?"
I'm reviewing the smile.
"Mom's okay, honey. Lyra doesn't have to worry."
Not long ago bi Ami appeared from the kitchen.
"Evening is ready" he said.
"Mom eat first yuk, bial healed." Lyra took my hand and took me to the dining room.
"Mother ate a lot" she said, pouring a few rice cobs and two large chicken pieces into my plate.
"God, Son. Why is the portion that much. How could you possibly spend it" I protested.
"Mother eats a lot of bial quickly healed. Lyla doesn't want you to get sick" Lyra said. I could see the worry in his eyes.
"Thank you, dear."
Suddenly I remembered when Lyra was a baby, I had experienced nausea quite often. After I checked with the doctor, the doctor said that the nausea I experienced was a symptom of appendicitis.
Did the disease come again? Or does the disease continue?
Connect …
Hi, Brother. Also in my new novel:
"THE TOMBOY'S CARETAKER THE THIEF'S HEART"
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