The Match in the Hand of Papi

Banget Kangen

It had been a week, but there was still no sign of El's whereabouts. Zack was like lost like in the swallow of the earth, his existence was not sniffed at all by Aryan's men.

Aryan was really frustrated. Not to mention the condition of the father-in-law who is increasingly declining.

Long he was fixated in silence, Aryan was shocked by the sound of knocking on the door from the outside.

“Log in!” her word.

Before long the door opened. Septian in an old ash suit came into Aryan's room.

“Pak,” greet Septian.

“There is a development?” aryan asked without further ado.

“I've made a report to the police, sir. I have also made announcements in a number of media,” replied Septian. He seemed to know where his boss's question was headed. Aryan sighed while nodding.

*****

That afternoon, El sat in front of Mr. Kamsuri's house. Staring at Bu Yati who was sweeping the courtyard of the house that was not so wide.

Every now and then El saw Bu Yati who so graciously greeted people passing in front of his house to create small talk that El himself did not know what was told, because they used the language of the region.

El only smiled when there were some mothers looking at him.

‘What do they hurt me, yes?’ his inner.

“El, here!” Bu Yati is seen waving at El to invite him to join.

Slowly El began to rise from his seat. His feet are starting to improve. He began to walk even though he was still trained.

“This is Bu Iyem, her house, tuh.” Bu Yati introduced her neighbors while pointing at the house not so far from the house of Bu Yati and Pak Kamsuri.

“I El, Bu.” El answered briefly.

“Kalo bosen, play to home. There's a Mother's daughter Lastri who looks the same age as you.” Reply Ms. Iyem with her Japanese accent.

“Iya, Mom. Thanks,” replied El.

“Eh, we're in first. You haven't eaten, have you?” asked Bu Yati after Bu Iyem went home.

El also nodded. He is seen following Bu Yati who entered his house.

“Bu,” call El.

“Iya, El.”

“Bu, is there anyone here who has a mobile phone?” ask El.

“Mobile? What phone, yes, does it mean?” ask Bu Yati. His forehead looked wrinkled like he was thinking.

‘Gosh! does Bu Yati really not know the phone?’

“Mom don't know mobile? Which to contact people.”

“Oh, phone.” replied Bu Yati with laughter.

“There, but in the village chief's office. People here if you want to talk to people who are far away go to the village head's office,” continued Bu Yati.

“Bu, can you take me there? I want to contact my family,” said El. He was already impatient to contact Aryan so that Aryan would pick him up immediately.

El nodded with sparkling eyes. It felt like he could immediately talk to Aryan, saying that he wanted to go home soon. He misses the atmosphere of the house, and .. he also misses Aryan.

For a week now El has to live in a village that he himself does not know where. He had to live a difficult life according to him. He must sleep without a mattress, he must also eat with potluck food. Cassava, yam, and corn became a menu that he always saw at the house of Mr. Kamsuri. A life that never really crossed his mind.

****

“Assalamualaikum!”

There was a man's voice coming from outside. With a bright smile, he walked towards the door, like he already knew who was behind the door even though it had not opened. Yeah, who else if not the husband, Mr. Kamsuri.

“Waalaikumsalam,” Bu Yati replied.

Deftly Bu Yati took over the goods in the hands of Mr. Kamsuri. Like a machete, a bottle of drinking water and a shabby hat that Mr. Kamsuri wears. All can't escape El's vision.

“Capek, Sir?” ask Bu Yati.

“Lumayan, Ma'am,” replied Mr. Kamsuri.

“Inter, yes, Sir. I made coffee first.”

“Iya, Ma'am,” replied Mr. Kamsuri.

El observes everything Bu Yati does. Until Bu Yati finished making coffee for her husband, El's eyes were always fixed on the couple who looked different ages

“Segitunya Bu Yati welcome her husband. Though her husband did not bring anything for her.” Inner El.

All the movements of the couple did not escape the observation of El. El was amazed by the warmth created between the two even in a state of deprivation. Sometimes they heard both laughter. El is like a mosquito repellent, which is among them but whose existence is useless. Both of them were caught in a warm conversation.

“Father take a shower first, yes, Mom,” said Mr. Kamsuri.

Bu Yati who was still sitting, swiftly stood up to follow Mr. Kamsuri. He rushed to get a towel to give to Mr. Kamsuri.

“This, Sir.” Bu Yati thrust out a towel whose color was already shabby.

“Still, yes, Mom,” said Mr. Kamsuri.

“El,” call Bu Yati after Mr. Kamsuri leaves both.

“Iya, Mum.”

“Kok, daydreaming, tho?” ask Bu Yati.

El looks clumsy. He felt ashamed to observe both. “No pa-pa, Mom. I looked at Mom with Dad. Very friendly.”

“Walah, opone-friendly, tho? Ordinary aja. Every day is like that.”

“Mother does it every day?” ask El.

“Do what?”

“Yes, that was. Make you drink, take a towel Mr.”

“Ya, yes. That ‘kan is indeed the obligation of Mother. His name is also his wife. No way ‘kan wife neighbor who nyiapin.” There was a small ruckus coming from Bu Yati's mouth.

El remembered Aryan. As a wife, El realized he could not give the best for Aryan.

‘‘El kangen very same sister”