Short Story (Cerpen)

Maling Hamlet

Category: Fiction Fantasy Short stories

Title: Maling Hamlet

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The gurgling sound of water ceaselessly filled the pond. Flowing profusely through a shower made of bamboo. On the left right of the pond was filled with a bamboo fence that was still green. The bamboo trees block the sunlight through the roof of the wooden house inside the fence. Slowly my feet began to climb the bamboo webbing that was one meter high. Then step slowly. Passing the pool lip. The mujahir fish in the pond seemed to be watching my every move.

This wooden house is located at the westernmost end of my hamlet. Fused with the vast expanse of rice fields behind him. The roof of his house is covered in bamboo groves. The leaves fall into a thick blanket that begins to blacken. For two days the inhabitants of this house were in a hospital twenty km from my hamlet. Waiting for family members who are undergoing breast cancer surgery.

Crews! My fingers pulled the door leaf made of acacia wood. The kitchen door was open. I looked around me. A clut passed in front of me. Screaming like a baby misses his mother's breast. There were only gas cylinders and boilers standing on top of the furnace. My feet keep moving. A jar containing crupuk stands on the living room table. I opened the door behind the table. Shredding a pile of clothes in the closet. Lifting the mattress on the wooden cot in front of me. Brengsw! I didn't find a penny in this bed. Cold sweat slowly began to flood my body. I'm starting to lose my mind.

'Tek tek'. The sound of a bamboo tree being hit with a piece of wood danced in my ear. Gesture from my friend who's standing guard outside the fence. I need to get something out of this house. I have to get things that can be exchanged for money from this poor man's house. Oh yes, that boiler and gas canister, I whispered in my heart. Without a second thought, I returned to the kitchen. I was sambar and the boiler and the gas canister were standing next to the furnace.

My heart is beating faster. Hunting for air coming in and out of my nostrils. I lifted the boiler over the bamboo fence and greeted it with two hands of my friend. After the ten-kilo gas cylinder I lifted, my feet climbed up the bamboo fence again. Bluk! I dropped my body in the bushes right next to where my friend was standing.

I took a deep breath while shaking my head. A big smile emerged from my friend's face. My heart rate keeps hunting. Spurred both my legs to go even faster. My friend followed me with a gas canister in his right hand. We walked down the path in the middle of a bamboo tree. Every now and then the sound of chicken coke and the chirping of a pleci bird pierced my ears. We stopped for a moment in the middle of a rice field overgrown with grass reeds that were as tall as shoulder. Letting go of the breath that continues to hunt. I thought hard to find a way out so that the two objects immediately become rupiah.

Sayup-sayup heard the sound of a cassette reciting the Quran from the hamlet next door. We were silent. A moment later in a soft voice I said,

'Alright, then, now you go home take the bike, then I will bring these two objects up near the highway, ' I assure you. My friend lifted her body. Rotating the body and lost among the reeds.

I was still silent, looking at the two things in front of me. Wade through this wheel of impartial fate. Looking back at the mosaic of my past. The past has always disturbed me…

Long ago, five years ago, I still lived in a boarding house not far from my hamlet. But, I only lasted for two years until the second grade Aliyah Madrasah. A very precious time in my life. A time that promised me a wonderful future. However, there was no wind or rain, suddenly tobacco was the source of my family's economy and almost the entire population of my hamlet was suddenly dropped. My father and mother were struck by lightning during the day. But I didn't care about all that, what was important to me at that time was school and seeking knowledge.

Dad often complained about the situation.I once saw my father angry in front of the tv. He condemned the news on one of the television channels that broadcast news about the fatwa stating illegal merok*k. Spontaneous dad slammed the glass in front of him. Dad chided a kiai who spoke on the screen.

Finally, a hectare of my family's land was planted with trees. That was my father's last choice. It's impossible for me to grow lombok or rice considering the price of fertilizer that my family's finances can't reach. Do you know how much the tree costs? one kilo is only valued at eight hundred rupiahs with a one-year wait to be able to harvest it. So bitter and bitter is the reality of life.

I finally took off my school uniform and got out of the boarding school. Some of my friends also suffered the same fate as me. Including my friend. I was angry with my father and mother who could not afford my education. I am also angry at God who is unjust to me. Doesn't poverty bring a person closer to disbelief or error? Ask Him.

I decided to go to Solo without my parents knowing. Become a waiter at a food stall in Klewer market area. I started to live a new chapter of my life. I started learning about real life. The carpenter and the rickshawman behind the Market became a part of me. Become my new best friend. I also met with various brands of liquor. Especially T*pi Tilt and V*dka. Those are the two brands I know, which can be reached by my mediocre salary. I know it is forbidden in my religion. But there's no way I'm living alone in this big city. I need a place to gather like my life in the pesantren.

I stayed in that city for a year. I came out disrespectfully from the stall. I used the daily money my employer set aside at the stall to meet my needs. I returned home through the Racing Station. Along the way home my mind floated into a small room in my village. Mother's shadow danced in my mind. Mom sat in the living room with a glass of tea and a plate of boiled kettle. A moment later, Dad's wrinkled face danced in front of me. The old man began to overstretch the ketella of trees in the rice field. His sweat poured out profusely under the scorching sun that burned his body.

Ah, I woke up from my daydream. The noise of my friend's motorbike was like calling my name. I went and walked down that path. The sunlight was right above the crown of my head. The sweat grains wet my clothes. I saw the voice of the Adhan always calling people to perform Friday prayers. My friend's old Honda CB 100 bike is already on the side of the highway. With a thousand steps I brought the boiler and the gas canister. Take him to the junkyard buyer's house which is located about seven kilometers from the highway in front of my hamlet. Both were replaced with one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Ah, my life today is worth a hundred and fifty thousand rupiahs. My whisper in my heart.

The sun is now in the western sky. A moment later it sank behind the horizon. There was a feeling of pride in my heart in today's adventure. At the very least, today I was spared from death who was ready to pounce on me at any moment. Death is my closest friend and enemy. Along with the twilight that began to creep, on the way home we stopped at my grocery store. Buy a skirt*k, two bottles of V*dka, and two packs of leather nuts. Not to forget I invited my friends to enjoy our hard work today. They were listening to my words, and,

'Newly this time, I entered a house that contained only a boiler and gas cylinder!' I said as I sipped a small glass of drink in front of me. Until late at night I was with my friends. Enjoy this little feast and reap the windfall of what else will either be in the future.

My eyes felt so heavy to open. The sunlight that pierced the room blinded my view. I was jolted by the sound of the door being pounded along with a loud ear-splitting sound. I rise from my sleep.

'Come out, bangs*t!'

I was led home to the hamlet. The old, the young, and the children looked at me like they were seeing a boar that the masses had caught for eating corn in the fields. I sat in the living room chair of the cadus. Waiting for a cadus who does not show the trunk of his nose. The children's eyes peeked at me from the window.

'Where does this happen?' ask Anton the village youth leader. The head of the village did not come.

'Yes, just take Ambon to my house, we hear him there', Anton said fieryly.

I'm back being herded. The hamlet boys running around following me. Joyful happy. Like following a capital artist.

I sat cross-legged in the living room in the shape of that lesehan. My father and mother sat on my right. In front of me the owner of the house I took the boiler and the gas canister sat with a sharp eye to my face. Like I wanted to stab my whole body. After a silent atmosphere without a sound, Anton opened the trial. He showed me a small object as proof of my mistake. An hp card found in the middle of a rice field. I bowed listlessly. The phone card fell as I sat in the middle of the paddy field. I confess my actions, though,

'Yes, I did take the boiler and gas cylinder belonging to Mr. Rohim. By Allah I took it alone, ' I said slowly.

I saw her face like a withered flower. He's bowed lethargic. While wiping away the translucent grains that flashed on his cheeks, words slid from both of his lips stammeringly,

'Mas Anton. and. everyone present here. forgive me,'. Mom stopped saying. It was as if tons of stone piles filled his chest cavity. Mother took a long breath. Then continued his words, 'I.. I can not take care of my son..., I have not been able to educate my son this...' the details are now flowing more rapidly. Like spring water in the rainy season. My father's left hand was holding my mother's shoulder. And mother put her head on my chest. The mood became more and more silent. It was as if only a soft and gentle voice came out from the mother's chest that filled the room.

Suddenly a loud voice came from the front. A young man shouted loudly that I was paraded from the house of the youth leader to the house of Mr. Rohim.

'That wine nutmeg! let's get wine from here to Rohim's house, sir,'

'Agree!' the voice of the other young man.

I bowed listlessly. Remember Suratman who was paraded one year ago. My friend stole grass and a banana. He was paraded around the village. On his head was a pile of green grass and his hand carried a banana. The youth and the hamlet children followed behind him cheering. His parents were devastated to see his son being treated that way. But what power. After the tragedy Suratman's father never left the house. Never take part in gotong royong activities every week morning. Friday prayer is no longer. He felt like a parent.

'Don't march! I do not agree in that way, ' shouted another young man. After I raised my face the young man was my friend.

Finally there are pros and cons among the youth. Some wanted me to be paraded like Suratman. Some people don't want that to happen. Anton mediates that debate.

'That's enough, don't continue here the debate!' shout Anton.

'Later to talk with kadus sir and other village devices about the appropriate punishment for Afat Nur, ' he continued.

I was given two days to find a boiler and gas canister for damages. I have to hand over the two items to the youth chief and undergo the trial one more time.

The promised day came. I brought a boiler and gas canister in my kitchen. The youths, village elders, and children regrouped into one in the courtyard of the youth leader's house. Mr. Kadus was also present there. I handed over my stolen replacement. Mr. Kadus opened the show, though,

'Everybody, so that our hamlet becomes safe and there is no theft like this anymore, then based on the decisions of the village devices, Afat Nur alias Ambon will we arak from here to the house of Mr. Rohim'. The kids listened to the decision. They can't wait to see me like a sacrificial goat being skinned. I screamed loudly, though,

'This is not fair! I don't accept this decision!' All eyes were on me. This is the first event in this village. A thief dares to fight.

'Why is this punishment only given to people like me, Suratman, and other child wongs? Why is it that Mr. Kadus who is not acting in charge of our society just let it go? who every night goes ju*i in the terminal not demoted from his post? I am ready to be paraded as long as he does not become Kadus again', I said loudly while pointing my index finger at the face of the Head of the Hamlet.

Plaque! A fist landed on my face. Then another fist. I felt a red liquid coming out of my forehead. But, most of the citizens actually sympathized with me and protected my body from some young man who wanted to prey on me. At least I did not feel any pain even though the red liquid soaked my curls. My eyes were staring like an eagle ready to grab onto its prey. Staring at the faces of some young men who landed their fists on my face.

I finally went home. Those who beat me started to come to apologize. Not long after that Kadus resigned from his position.

From then on I ran my profession outside the area. I advise all who wish to follow in my footsteps not to do so in this hamlet. I have a lot of people in different areas. If one of my men gets caught by the police, I'll make it up to him. If my men are beaten by the masses, I will send my men to kill whoever did that. I can buy a skirt*k and a few bottles of drinks without having to climb over the bamboo fence again. I was busy thinking about this little village. Serving people who want to meet me. Expressing questions that become a burden on their lives. Or, invite me to give her son's wedding day. Monday to Friday I went to the village office. Wearing clothes that my wife had ironed. On top of that shirt pocket knitted threads painted my name. Nur Afat.

Ah, in this hamlet. Like me, I can become a Cadus.