The House in the Middle of Sawah

Stay

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Erni, Nita and Febi decided to go home. Although the task has not been stretched, but for fear of being too late in the journey they say goodbye to mother. Hasan and Irul insisted on staying over. But I don't know this idea either. Hasan and Irul insisted on "nginep" she was curious about the countryside.

"This sure, lek malem must be shahdu, duingin", said Hasan.

"Yes if I am from orok already here is normal, which is obviously later that feels different from where you are, if later in the afternoon there are many tonggeret sounds" I replied.

"Koyok opo anyway iku animal e?", Irul asked while holding his chin, as if looking really curious.

"Laler's kayak, but your thumbs up" I replied.

This is the first time a friend has stayed at home. I started to prepare a place for them to sleep later. Because the house is not very spacious, there are no rooms for guests. So yes the three of us will sleep in one room, the front room, my room.

By 5pm the sky was starting to look somber. It could rain when it comes down. I asked the three of us to take a shower in turn.

Azan maghrib sayup sayup heard in the distance. The distance of this house with the nearest mosque is indeed quite decent, there are about 2 kilometers to the north. Hasan went to mushola.

"Yok, maghrib an yok", ask him a little forcefully.

"Gas is ", I replied, but Irul looked reluctant.

"I'm not at my house, I'm tired of my prayers, you're just leaving there" replied Irul while moving his hands as if he was driving away a crowd of chickens.

"Angel wes this one, hmmm" murmured Hasan.

Finally, with a piggyback, Hasan and I glided to the mosque, while mother had left first with her sister on the onthel bike. Irul we live in the house alone. He seemed to yawn a few times, probably really tired. Finished my maghrib prayer and Hasan took the time to sit in front of the mosque. Many fathers with us. There are telling stories, discussing politics, there are also alternating massage.

"If in the village of kayak gini, exclaimed, the people get along well ", Hasan said slowly while looking at two fathers who were alternating massaging the body.

"Let's San, if here everyone knows each other, if in the city sometimes the same neighbors themselves just do not know whose name" I meng yes.

"Eh, come home, pity the Irul was ", Hasan invited arrived.

I approve. I see my mother and sister still playing with Mbok dirah. Sodara ibuk whose home is around mushola.

We rode our bike through the cold of the evening. Somehow this time the cold was more bone-chilling. And I don't know since when my feathers bristled. Arriving in front of the house I was quite surprised to hear Irul grinning inside the house. Hasan and I exchanged glances, asking in silence, who is Irul with? Did any of the girls come back?

We rushed inside the house.

"Assalamualaikum. .", Hasan said a half-calling greeting.

- - -