Pocong Assayment Tumbal
twenty one
The house with a half-stage model, walled black bamboo room, feels full. The doctor's guests sat in the chair, observing the condition of the cottage.
“How, Mr Kyai?” ask Ilyaz.
“Alhamdulillah, with God's permission, the negative energy that exists in this house fades a little. Nanda Ilyaz is always plagued with strange noises. This house apparently still has to do with the musala in front.”
“Yes, Mr. Kyai. This house belongs to ust. Aslam, the founder of this village musala. I've told you everything about the curse of this village.”
“Destiny ust.Aslam is terrible, must die in a state of defamation.”
“Then, what is Pak Kyai's plan after this?”
“We must not waste the struggle of ust. Aslam in upholding the phrase in this village. We must restore again the trust of the villagers to return to carrying out the command of God.”
“Yes, Mr. Kyai. I understand.”
The atmosphere of the village is very quiet, as with the last nights, the howls of wild dogs and night animals dominate the village atmosphere. No citizen dared to come out since magrib arrived. This is the first night of Atang's death, as well as the death of Anto, must have been his spirit.
The house of Ijah.
Ilyaz and his guests also taught, praying for Atang's death by holding tahlil, no one came to participate. The owner of the house is busy in the kitchen preparing a little food and drinks to entertain guests, just with a glass of tea water and a little village food provided by Ijah. His heart was delighted with the care of those who wished to pray for his deceased son. An empty glass is filled with tea water pouring from a blackened aluminum teapot on the base, hot steam billowing in the glass.
The wind from outside rang out, fiercely blowing and airing cold.
Ijah shuddered the body several times when pouring tea water in a glass. There is a shivering air that makes the fine feathers bristled, but not too much care. From the outside along with a gust of wind, there were footsteps jumping, approaching. This time a somewhat trembling hand was seen from the water being poured, swaying, it seemed to be cold or it might be the effect of the fear that plagued it after hearing the jump step.
The sound stopped at the kitchen door, then Ijah's nose caught the faint smell of the funeral flowers, the fur of my back was standing up.
Tok tok tok, kitchen door is slowly knocked, “Mak, please Atang. Cold,” call from behind the door sounds obvious in the ear.
“Atang?” mummy mak Ijah recognized the voice of his son who had just died this morning.
“Mak, please Atang.”
“Tang!” call Ijah to step slowly.
Intimacy took him to ascertain who had called. Slowly, but surely, Ijah approached the kitchen door, grabbing the handle made only of wooden steps. The woman tilted her body and placed her ears on the door leaf.
“Mak, cold. Please,” that voiceover.
Ijah unlocked the door which was only a slot of iron, slowly creaking heard. He peeked slightly behind the open door, there was no one. However, that voice was clearly heard. With complete confidence, the door was closed, there was no one outside. Who asked for help, his voice resembled that of Atang?
“Mak, cold. Please.” Ijah heard again the voice, faint.
However, for some reason, his heart was pounding and cold sweat came out from his forehead. Someone very close behind, aware not only that he was in the kitchen. However, who? Carefully, the woman turned around in a very subtle step, glancing slowly.
“Arrrghhh!” hysterical screams.
The body instantly collapsed on the spot after confirming who was behind it.
Ijah's screams sounded until the middle room. Ilyaz and the people who were teaching ran towards the direction of the shout.
“Astagfirullah, Mom! What happened?” ilyaz was half shocked.
Spontaneous, Ijah sprawled on the floor that was only layered ground was grabbed. Her wrists are examined to ensure pulse. Ilyaz took the therapeutic scent oil from under his shirt pocket, smelling it at the old woman. A few seconds passed, a reaction occurred, the eyes began to open, a little dazed with the situation, the temples massaged.
“Pak Doctor?” said Ijah rather surprised.
“What happened, Mak?”
“Pocong, Atang! Doctor sir, he's a pocong. Back here.”
“Atang, Mak?” ilyaz said astonishment. His head slightly looked up, watched the situation around then again looked at Ijah who was still drooping, “Mak, try to take a deep breath. Quiet.”
“Atang, Mr. Doctor. hiks,” hysterical sound Ijah turned into sobs.
After drinking, he began to calm down.
“Tadi, Mak heard people asking for help, very similar to Atang. Out of curiosity, Mak make sure, but outside there is no one and after the door is closed-” Ijah stopped for a moment, the look is tense, “Atang in front of Mak, so pocong.”
“Astagfirullah, maybe too tired, Mak from the morning constantly crying over the departure of Atang. Now, it is better to just rest at the lodge, come with us so that someone takes care of Mak Ijah,” Ilyaz invited.
***
Pondokan.
Ijah could not sleep with the incident experienced while in the house, obviously who came to him at the time of the issue, Atang. Surely it was not wrong to see, his son with a pitiful expression, asked for help to get cold. The old woman shed tears as she remembered it, “Tang, what happened exactly? Mak sad, your spirit is not calm.”
The eyes were reluctant to be closed because the mind that continues to imagine Atang, even though time has shown two in the morning. The wind outside was fiercely blowing, the howls of stray dogs accompanied. Again, Ijah catches the jump step, the same when a moment Atang's spirit appears in the kitchen. His heart was hardened because he knew the sound. He got out of bed and quickly got out of the room.
“Pak, Mr Doctor!” Ijah said a bit loudly with a knock on the door that woke Ilyaz up.
“What's up, Mak?”
“Pak Doctor, Atang. Mak hear his voice.”
“Masa, Mak?” tanya Ilyaz hesitated with Ijah's confidence.
“True, try Mr. Doctor listen carefully.”
Ilyaz kept quiet and obeyed Ijah's wishes.
Trok trok trok, he caught the same sound before seeing Atang stiff on the bed, momentarily stopped and then the knock of the front door sounded loud.
Ilyaz and Ijah turned their eyes towards the door.
“Pak Doctor, please. Cold ,” someone outside calling Ilyaz.
“It must be Atang, Mr. Doctor,” said Ijah shivering a little because of the fear that afflicted him.
Ilyaz ventured to step to the front door, followed by Ijah who could not escape his grip on the doctor.
The door slowly opened, its creaking sounding rather quietly.
“Astagfirullahadzim,” jolted Ilyaz shocked. At the door, there was a corpse wrapped in a shroud with five ties.
“Pak Doctor, please. Cold,” call Atang.
“Atang!” scream Ijah, the expression of fear turned drastically into sadness.
“Tang, what do you want?” it was quite clear Ilyaz's words. He did not feel excessive fear though, could not be lied to if his heart was a bit nervous.
Ilyaz's guests woke up and joined in. They also suffered the same shock.
“Pak Doctor please, cold. I do not want to be picked up to the palace Ki Ageng Mayitan,” lamented.
“Ki Ageng Mayitan?” Kyai Tapa asked.
“True, the demon king of the owner of the pocong palace in this village,” Atang beat still sounds sad wailing.
“Tang,” call Ijah sobbing.
“Cold, Mak. Atang is not strong,” Atang moans.
“Then, how do we help you, Tang?” ask Ilyaz.
Atang's face only shed tears, not talking anything. The sadness and confusion he showed, made Ilyaz and Ijah feel together.
“Good, we will help you, God willing. Now, go first from here and do not disturb other citizens,” said Kyai Tapa.
