Touch Me Slowly's

Touch Me Slowly's
Kampung Manis



"What's this, Nis?" point Mike at a three-wheeled object in front of them.


"The name's Mike's rickshaw."


"Yes, I know. I mean, are we gonna ride this?" Sweet nods.


"Why do I have to ride this, anyway, Nis? We can't get in the car, can we?" mike's protest stood next to the woman who was busy counting the number of their bags.


"Semalem said ujan Mike. The roads are more muddy if you test, the car will be difficult if you want to pass." Sweetly give their two bags into the hands of a rickshaw driver in a woven hat.


"So we have to ride this, huh?" mike asked unsure.


"Yes. Here transportation usually uses this to go to my village. Yes, yuk ride. We'll hunt down the mallem." Sweet goes up first on the pedicab.


"But, Nis—"


"Just go ahead!" cut Sweet pops his head from behind the translucent curtain of rickshaw.


Mike can only just follow Sweet up there. The journey, which takes almost a day, must be spent both in a rickshaw that runs slowly and sometimes falters when passing streets filled with thick mud.


Mike got dizzy inside the rickshaw that walked following the muddy road there.


"Brenti-brenti, sir!" suddenly Mike.


"Why Mike?" The man did not have time to answer and instead jumped out, away from the rickshaw. At the end of it he was spewing out the contents in his stomach.


Sweet came down, approaching Mike who was leaning against the tree trunk.


"Jeez Mike, aren't you pa-pa?" tanya Sweet rubbed the man's nape.


"Gue can't, Nis. I want to go home, '" complained Mike with his pale lips.


"But we're gonna pause Mike. Hold it, yeah .. We can't bermalem here."


Mike clucked in his heart, he did not expect the journey to the village of the woman would go so far. Not to mention the winding road and arguably not worth it, really makes Mike dizzy half to death.


"Sir Mike isn't pa-pa?" Parto came in a hurry to approach her boss.


"Sir Parto's got no wind oil?" sweet asked still rubbing Mike's nape.


The middle-aged man swiftly took out the wind oil that he had prepared for their full journey of struggle this time around.


A little bit of Parto had already found out about the location of Sweet village before. Luckily his master Oma did not come there after a long debate between Moses and Mike last night.


"This cake makes Mike feel good." Sweet rubbed the wind oil into the man's nape all the way to his neck.


Suddenly the man turned into like a child near Sweet. "This one hasn't, Nis.." point it at his chest that field.


The woman obediently followed where Mike asked to rub the wind oil. His mind was more focused on his worry for the crossbred man.


Mike instead used this opportunity to feel the soft sweep of Sweet hands on his body.


"Is it good yet?"


"Udah. Thanks, yeah, Nis."


"Jude, we're going again, Dad? Hunting malem we call it later here." Sweet grabbed Mike's arm, propped up the man's body beside him.


"Lo's always on this road if you want to go to town, Nis?" Both of them were sitting back on a rickshaw that was walking by a driver.


"Yes, everyone in our village is too. Must go this way to get to the city."


"The road is just this?" Sweet nods. "Great, people in elo village. Years of lewatin street like this never complained a little," continued Mike did not think out.


"Not to complain about Mike, but do not know who to complain with. Want to complain about the government was not necessarily in the same governor they, the most abis in the promise doang...!"


Mike muttered while watching the road around them. Before arriving at the village where Sweet lived, they were greeted by many green pesawahan.


The air there also feels very different from Jakarta. Mike could feel the cool air with a gentle breeze blowing in front of them.


"Ni Huta, Mike."


"This is Samosir county, right?"


"Yes, why?"


"No, I'm just surprised here has a village that is actually still natural. Even the ones there are.." point Mike at a rice paddler they'll pass in front of.


"Still use kebo to make bajakin rice fields, you know. If in other areas, it must have used the machine so as not to complicated. Great that they are still defending the traditional way of kayak so when all is already modern in the present era," continued Mike at length.


"In my village, all the things that smell traditional are still in Mike's defense. Later you will also see all our houses here are still the same as old houses."


Arriving in front of a traditional house typical of the area there, Sweet came down from the rickshaw followed by Mike. His eyes did not look at all the corners of the house from the outside.


The roof of the house made tipped and rather high from the room of the house looks so beautiful from the sight of gray eyes. It turns out that it is true that the houses here are still traditional houses, customary there.


"Come on, come on Mike," Sweetie.


"Eh, wait, Nis.." hold Mike.


"Why?"


"Who is there at home?" mike was asked.


"There's only my mother and my sister. Take it easy, they don't bite people.." Sweet kekeh walked first in front of the man.


Mike clucked following Sweet from behind. She was still joking around, he thought. Parto also came in while carrying a lot of bags of goods that they brought for the Sweet family.


"Mom, sweet home, Mom...." Sweet walked in looking for her mother in the room and kitchen.


"Why, Nis?" mike asked to look at the long-haired woman alone.


"Mother's still in the paddy field this time Mike, probably back home. You want to shower first? Let me be ready."


"No need, wait for Lo's mother to come home, Nis. I don't feel good yet to meet the one who has a house already cheered in."


"Yaudah, that's why I made tea for you first, Mr. Parto, yeah...."


Waiting for nearly fifteen minutes in a simple tile-faced room, a woman who looked similar to Sweet. Enter staring in shock Mike and Parto who sat facing each other.


"Heh, who are you? Want to get some more debt?!" she screamed the woman angry.


"Eh, no, Mom. We're this—"


"Mother, mother .. You think I'm your mother!" cut the woman staring hard at Mike. "Get out of you, don't look for Simbolon here! I've been with him for a long time!" he kicked out two men who knew nothing of it.


.


.


.


.


.


.


.


.


For this Part the author wants to say thank you very much for Ka Melly Sianturi who already wants to be asked about her village Sweet...


I'm with you, Ka Mel 🤭🥰