The Stupid of Laweyan's Shoulder

Chapter 55: Link Feelings

For a few days now, Zayan has not seen Zulkifli anywhere. In the next few days, he will stop working as an intern in the office, to complete the final assignments from campus. The plan, if the office of Bentala Swarga Group does not recruit him to be a permanent employee, he will apply for work in the office of a company owned by his father's friend.

Zayan was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for someone. A cup of coffee that was still puffing steam, was in front of him. A young office boy, entered the room.

"Excuse me, Mas" the man told Zayan. He was silent, as if he were pretending not to listen. The incident a few days ago, made him have to be more careful.

Zayan stopped the OB with his question. Once he was sure, the man was a human.

"I'm sorry, I thought that was .. oh, yes. These days, Mr. Zul is invisible. Why?"

"Oh, that's ... Mr. Zul's remodeling the stall, Mas."

"Oh, so. Thank you." Thank you."

The man in uniform came out, after answering Zayan's question.

In Zayan's mind, a desire arose to visit Zulkifli after returning home from work. However, because there is a big project. He even had to work overtime.

At exactly nine o'clock in the night, Zayan had already walked towards a place. Zulkifli's shop. Arriving there, the shop was still dark and messy. A few meters from the place, there is an angkringan that is still crowded. The young man in the black jacket of his flagship trucker, stopped by.

"So, I suspect, Mr. Zulkifli got the illegal money. Make renovations to the shop and his house. Turns out it's his daughter's estate, Lastri ...."

Just now that Zayan was sitting on the long bench of angkringan, he had heard something unpleasant. Then, he ordered a drink after the angkringan owner welcomed his arrival. Suddenly, the people there, turned to one direction.

"The problem isn't the person here?" asked one of the men in short-sleeved batik clothes.

"Yes, I live in the suburbs. But I work at Bentala Swarga Group." Zayan answered the person's question while standing up to pick up a small plate for snacks.

"Oh, that big office. My neighbor works there. Zulkifli's name."

"Sir Zul?"

"Well, do you know him?"

Zayan nodded. Then the chatter moved on to another topic after that.

Zayan glanced at the timepiece that was coiled in his hand. Almost midnight. After finishing his coffee, he paid a farewell to the people there.

"Let's see, the office guy's gonna hang out and eat at this place. The person was also nice to talk to," said someone after Zayan left.

On the other hand, Zayan walked towards the nearest ojek base. A middle-aged man, willing to drop him off. As usual, the motorcycle taxi driver invited him to chat to drive away the lonely.

After paying some money to the taxi driver, Zayan walked to the terrace. Take off his shoes and jacket, then carry these items, enter the house.

Some lights have been turned off. The rocking chair where Mbahkung usually sits, is empty. Zayan walks around, peering at Arsyanendra's bedroom illuminated by sleeping lights.

Zayan fixed the old man's blanket. Look lovingly at the already wrinkled face.

As if sensing someone's presence, Arsyanendra awoke.

"Just come home, Le?"

"Yes, Mbahkung. Sorry if Zay made Mbahkung, wake up."

"Now, Le. Already eaten?"

Zayan nodded.

"Yes, rest there."

In a simple wooden house, a middle-aged woman sobbed. The clock on the wall showed two o'clock in the morning.

"Mom, why mother?" mesha asked as she saw Sri crying on the other side of the bed.

"I dreamt of meeting Lastri, Nduk. She's beautiful, a cute baby carrier. Gusti ... kangen really feel.

Mesha grabbed the hand of the woman sitting next to him. Gently pat the back of the hand that began to wrinkle edible age.

"How about tomorrow we make a pilgrimage to the grave of Ms. Lasti, Mom? We open the stall a little fuckin', is that it?"

Sri nodded, still sobbing.

"But, I've ordered food for a prank, Nduk."

Already awake, Mesha inched down from the bed. As if something moved his heart, he rested in a bow. The longing for his father and mother is growing, but fear will make the burden bigger, he has not been able to go home.

The next day, after Zulkifli left for work brought some cardboard food. Mesha enclose his veil, holding Sri's arm. The two women walked towards a public funeral.

Mesha felt the funeral was too far away, worried that the woman walking with him would feel tired. He proposed to call the taxi driver. However, Sri refused.

"Let's do a little sport, Nduk."

Mesha bought some flower wrappers to sprinkle the tomb in a stall not far from the place. When he entered the area with Sri, he was shocked. A girl he knew, looked at him. A man, with the girl.

"You know them, Nduk?" ask Sri.

"Yes, Mom. One of them, I know."

***

Bentala Swarga Group office space is still quiet. Zulkifli placed the cardboard he had brought from home on the floor where he used to work. He put a cardboard box on Zayan's desk. Just as the young man reached the entrance of the room.

"Sir Zul? Healthy, Sir?" He greeted Zulkifli with pleasure.

"Healthy, Mas. Oh, aye. This ... prank me, run out of home renovations and stalls, Mas. Sorry, just simple."

"Well, thank you. Here, I'll help you, sir!"

After putting his bag and jacket down, Zayan helped Zulkifli put the food boxes on the desks of his co-workers. Some of them have also arrived and are happy to get the food. Congratulations and prayers to Zulkifli.

Zayan and Zulkifli were already sitting in the kitchen. Face out. His office work was done last night overtime.

"So, this is Mas Zay's last day of interning in this office?"

"Yes, Sir. If the company doesn't hire employees, chances are, I'm not coming to this place anymore."

"Oh, that, to. Yes, I want Mas Zay here, but if the bosses don't allow it. Yes already. Wherever Mas Zay will work, I hope to get a job that is a blessing and do not forget to be with me, of course."

Zayan smiled. It had only been a few days that he had known the figure of the man before him, but it felt so hard to leave the man.

"Yes, Sir. Of course, I will always remember Mr. Zul. I want to be here too. Hopefully, I'm given that chance."

For a long time the two men of different generations spoke. Until another OB, told Zayan there were two people waiting for him in the lobby.

"Who, huh?" Zayan Mummings.

Connect ....