Tidying Up Asa, Inviting Hidayah

10. Find Something Missing

Finding Something Missing.

☀If you feel you have anything, try to look into your heart. Is it far down there, there's peace?☀

Immanuel Kagendra Hara's.

The presence of my ex-husband in front of me was not expected before. I thought I'd just stop by the tomb for a little while and go see Noura at the Jogja branch.

It seems like this is proof that we can't manage destiny. Never imagined before if I would talk to Pak Wawan at the tomb of my mother. Hernawan name, but better known as Wawan. He was the one who should have hated me and my mom, but it was the opposite.

“Father is here to clean mama's tomb?” I asked earlier, when I saw Mr. Wawan pluck the grass that grew around the tomb of mama. Abort the yellowed frangipani leaves, then sweep them to the edges. Pak Wawan perfected his work by burying the dry leaf and grass garbage. It is fitting that the tomb of the mother always looks clean, it turns out that Pak Wawan diligently cleans it.

“Usually every jum’at afternoon, Nabila and Akmal are cleaning. Or Nadia when she visits. Coincidentally yesterday it was a Friday’at rain, so no one came.”

“It just so happens you can come here, all from the garden.” Pak Wawan pointed at the salak garden not far from the tomb.

I noticed the face of Wawan. Quiet, calm without resentment or resentment. What is he thinking or feeling now? After mama hurt by leaving him with two children, Pak Wawan still take care of mama's grave. Is that how good he is?

I waited for Wawan to finish, without even wanting to help. So I was stunned to see him so sincere, without the burden of cleaning mama's tomb until there was no grass or dry leaves there.

I drove Pak Wawan home, I think because our goals were in line. But I did not expect it anymore, because in the middle of the road, Pak Wawan asked me to stop.

"It's noon, it's hot. Walk later if it's not too hot." Said Pak Wawan when we had just arrived in front of a small house without a yard.

“Not lunch, right?” Pak Wawan placed a cup of coffee in front of me and then brought another cup while sitting opposite to me.

I'm shaking. Mr. Wawan moved his hand, allowing me to drink. The bass sounds calm, “while we eat, you are cooking rice.”

“Father need not bother, I am not long here.” It does not feel good to be troublesome, Wawan. Who am I to bother a good person like Wawan.

“No hassle, Hara. I'm glad you came. It's been a long time since you last came here, I thought you wouldn't come again.” Pak Wawan looked out of the house through the door that was deliberately left open, “what are you going to travel?”

It must be the suitcase and the vespa I brought. The last time I visited this house using a car, Pak Wawan would wonder why now I only wear a vespa, carrying a suitcase anyway. The complete package looks like a person going on a trip.

“Oh! That ... I was transferred to Jogja for a while. Last morning just arrived, stop by Magelang first take vespa.” I can't tell you the truth about it to you. After all, he doesn't understand about my job, does he?

"Do you have a house in Magelang?" Wawan frowned, I forgot to explain in detail.

"No, Sir. My boss has a house in Magelang, that vespa also has him. I can use it for mobility here."

“So, huh? That means you'll be staying in Jogja for a while, huh? Live in which area?”

“My workplace office in Gedong area is yellow, sir. If I want to live where, I don't know yet. My friend is looking for a rented house for me.”

“Oh! Actually not too far from here. Why don't you stay here?”

The unexpected offer from my father made my body stiffen. I never thought anyone would ask me to stay together. All this time I lived alone, no one had ever wanted to live with me. Except Cecilia, my cousin. And father, the offer .. it really made me feel considered.

I did not immediately accept my father's offer. I considered everything carefully, for I never made a decision without consideration. Moreover, later I will definitely trouble his father and family.

So when I called Noura and she said she didn't get a rented house for me. I just received an offer from Wawan. Stay in his house for a while, while looking for a rented house.

I need a rented house because I don't know until when my work is done. It is not easy to find out about someone, it may take a long time. Plus I have to be careful doing my unorthodox job.

When it was almost afternoon, Mbak Nabila and her husband came home. The open-top car is parked next to the house. It was in the yard of a neighbor's house rented by mbak Nabila to park his car. Mbak Nabila had greeted me, before he went somewhere and went home with a little boy. About four years old.

Wawan's small house feels narrower because of my presence. I don't know. Or maybe just my feelings. Maybe also because of the boy who had come so noisy.

“Om iki sopo to, Buk?” (Who is this, Buk?) I knew the boy was asking Mbak Nabila, his mother. Want to know all about the stranger who was suddenly in his house. I'm. Although I don't really understand what I'm asking.

“Om wes pakpung urung?” (Om showering yet?)

“Om omahe ngendi?” (Where is the house?)

“Om kok ora salat? Ibuk sajang, nek mboten doso prayers, you.” (Om, really, don't pray. The word ibuk if not praying sin, you know.)

“Om rung shit, po? How, ora pray?” (Om not yet circumcised, huh? Not praying.)

"Jare pak ustadz nek wes sufit kudu sregep prayer." (Pak ustadz said that circumcision must be diligent in prayer.)

Really makes my ears itch to hear the noise. It was as if he had a mountain of question stock and an ocean-wide vocabulary. The noisy and tall little boy wanted to be.

That night I spent answering all the questions of the boy named Naufal Ibrahim. Although with the answer as I can and must be translated by Pak Wawan and mas Akmal because I do not really understand Javanese.

Late at night, I looked at the ceiling of the room whose paint color had faded. There's a watermark here and there, maybe a leaky mark in the rain. The sound of the night beast became the melody of the silent repellent. Cold felt until it penetrated the bones, but gradually reduced. I just realized that the air here is colder than in Magelang.

I turned my gaze to the two men of different generations next to me who had fallen asleep. The house had only two rooms, so we were forced to sleep together in a narrow bed. Naufal ngeyel asked to sleep with me. So this is it, one bed filled with three people. Narrow, I can barely move.

I used to sleep in a king-size bed alone. When I have to sleep together like this, of course I find it difficult to close my eyes. It's just that there's another feeling coming from the heart. Warm.

I was constricted and unable to move, but somehow I felt comfortable. Especially when Naufal unknowingly put his foot on my stomach and one hand on my chest. I should be uncomfortable, right? But what I felt was a foreign feeling. Like having drunk warm water, the warmth immediately seeped into there without permission.

In the morning, I felt a foreign feeling that I could not yet define. It was a feeling that made me want to smile and even laugh. When Naufal told me about his friend who had just been circumcised.

“Mbah, Mbah! Wingi Dani supit's. Jarene le nyupiti nganggo bendo, Mbah?” everyone laughed except me. (Change, Mbah! Dani was circumcised yesterday. He said he was circumcised with a big knife, Mbah?)

“Opo nek sufit ki sliced, Mbah? Dadi cendik nek ngono.” Everyone laughed except me. (Indeed, if it is sliced, Mbah? So short, dong.)

“Naufal emoh suppit, ah. Coaching daughter's chest, hiii!” Everyone laughed again, except me. (Naufan does not want to be circumcised, ah. It will be short. hhii!)

I laughed when Akmal translated Naufal's story from beginning to end. Waitaminute! L laughed? How can I laugh after this?

What the fuck? Can that kid make me laugh? One thing that rarely happens to me, or maybe I haven't laughed since. Naufal managed to make me laugh, but the little boy told me without the slightest funny expression.

After breakfast I sat with Wawan and Mas Akmal while enjoying a cup of hot coffee. Again, one thing I never did in life was talk.

When I first met Akmal, I thought he was a stiff man. Highlight his sharp sword-like eyes were drawn before me. But it was inversely proportional after we spoke. Mas Akmal turned out to be a nice guy even though he was not good at joking.

Wawan is like that too. I thought it would be boring to talk to a middle-aged man like him. It turns out that since yesterday our chat was quite connected, even though it was just a pleasant talk.

Just last night I was in the middle of this simple family, I had a lot to get. Especially the warmth of a family ….

I who used to feel the house of Pak Wawan is small and narrow, now what I feel is the spaciousness of heart and warmth. Here, I feel needed, considered there as well as appreciated.

“Night his sleep wasn't good, huh, Hara? Must be a nosy nuisance Naufal.” Akmal said towards the end of our conversation this morning.

“Ngak, kok, Mas. Naufal antennas.” I noticed Wawan laughing. He must have known if all night Noufal slept while continuing to hug me, even wrapping one leg on my stomach.

I'm not the kind of person who likes to make small talk to please others. Lie to make others feel happy. But Noufal's attitude made me change my stance, there's no harm in lying, if it can make us comfortable. It's not a lie that breaks the rules anyway, is it?

“This house is small, you must feel uncomfortable. Even so, you can stay here as long as you want.”

The words spoken by Pak Wawan made me rubbed my neck. He seems to know my heart. And the emergence of Mbak Nabila while holding Naufal added confidence to the decision I had to take,

“Naufal ready? Come on Interracial!” Pak Wawan stood up, leaving his coffee that was still half left.

“Naufal where to go?” I asked because as far as I know the four-year-old boy is not in school.

“Naufal should we leave in pesantren.” Mas Akmal replied, “we have to go find a trade, there is a sale. So it's safer for Naufal there, than for you to bother looking after him. Later in the afternoon new picked up, we finished selling.”

Somehow I was encouraged to take over the duties of Pak Wawan to take Naufal. The boy seemed to have something that interested me.

“How about just be with me? The pesantrennya in front of that, right? I also want to leave, all through.”

“Ah! No nicotine, no?” Seloroh mbak Nabila's.

“No, Ma'am. All set out, really. Correspondingly, right? Come, Naufal!” I stood up, after grinding the actual cigarette is still long, “om take the bag first in the room, yes?”

When I returned with a small bag hanging over my shoulder, Naufal immediately grabbed the hands of his mother, father and grandfather, kissing the backs of their hands politely.

I grabbed the skinny boy's shoulder, about to guide him out of the house. But Naufal flinched, pulling the edge of my shirt. I had to duck, frowning because I didn't know what Naufal wanted.

“Om haven't salim the same them.” Naufal said innocently while pointing at the three people behind me, “kata ustadz, if you want to go, you have to pay salim to the parents. Let me get ridho and bursa.”

I rubbed my neck, feeling embarrassed. ‘Basic bak’, my inner.

Kusalami Pak Wawan also mbak Nabila and mas Akmal. Turns out Naufal still doesn't accept, “dicium, Om! Let's bless.”

All righty! I admit now I'm like a buffalo whipped in his nose, obeying the orders of a little boy I've only known for a day.

“Excuse Naufal, yes, Hara!” mbak Nabila whispered, when you kissed the back of his hand, as Naufal commanded.

“Please ask, yes, Hara! Sorry to bother having to drop off Naufal.” Akmal rubbed my shoulder.

Not knowing what this was feeling, I felt like crying and smiling all at once. Maybe this is called being overwhelmed. I felt Akmal's hand rubbing my shoulder. Akmal's cold hands just feel warm, how can it?

I drove Naufal to the boarding school located in the entrance of Wawan's house. Naufal was greeted by a man. Cocoa clothes, sarongs and peci, at first glance the appearance of the man was exactly like Faiz mas. The appearance of Muslim men I rarely see in Jakarta.

“Sopo, Fal?” (Who, Fal?) I heard the man ask Naufal. Maybe because a stranger saw me.

“Om e me. Ngganteng, to?” I shook my head to hear Naufal's speech, even if it was only faint. Fucking kid.

I nodded my head at the man who welcomed Naufal. That must be his ustadz. I saw some children of Naufal's age running around in the pesantren yard. Is this a pesantren or a daycare?

But this atmosphere made me think for a moment ….

I opened the bag, took the cell phone from inside. I looked back at the atmosphere of the boarding school that was still boisterous by some children. I can't believe Naufal waved at me.

“Om! Ati-ati!”

I smiled, returning Naufal's hand. Waitaminute!

;’/I smile? Good Lord! Why else would I do the impossible. My smile is expensive, but why have I wasted it since yesterday.

I cut off the view from the pesantren page. Focus on the phone in your hand. I typed the letters there until it formed a single sentence.

[I have a place to stay.]

Sent

I sent the message to Noura. Then I put the phone back in the bag. I drove a vespa leaving the pesantren area, out of the gate bearing the name of a village.

Passing Magelang-Jogja road, I drove the vehicle at medium speed. Heading to a place that I will visit often in the future. Looks like I'm starting to find something missing ....

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Seriate....

Friends ...

Stay save and healthy. Keep immunity and faith, do not underestimate the virus that is spreading. Prokes tight, wear a mask if out of the house, mandatory double yes. You who are sick may get well soon. Who is in a period of isolation, may always be healthy and facilitated all affairs.