Wulan In Night Wound

Chapter 30 Pakne and Bune

"Mom just called you, Nduk. It turns out that you showed up first, maybe you already have what those young people are saying now? Ah, yes, that wife. Present father is not the talent of speaking English so, belepotan be. Do not strain gtu, Pak Jaka ga bite kok” said Mr. Jaka started the conversation punctuated by jokes so as not to become stiff. Bakso stalls are not so crowded, because it is still maghrib. Most people prefer to worship first.

"Chemistry, sir", I said correcting his words.

"Yes yes, that's what Jaka meant. Hahaha" he replied then laughed crisply.

I smiled in response to Mr. Jaka's joke. "What do you need to say, sir?" tanyaku later.

"Mother was already telling me, so Mr. Jaka did not want to ask again about it. I believe in Mom's instincts. What you want to ask, you are willing to be our adopted child?", asked Mr. Jaka with serious eyes.

"Am I not going to be a problem, sir, Mom? Really, I have no other intention when it comes to telling me about myself" I replied worriedly.

"Mom believe, Son. So I was full of hearing your story. At such a young age, but you can be so steadfast in living God's destiny. Maybe this is also the path given by God to the Father and Mother who are waiting for the presence of baby. But we were given a complete package directly, an adopted child and future grandchildren" Bu Nimas said.

"I'm afraid to disappoint Bu Nimas and Pak Jaka later. I am currently pregnant without a husband. I am afraid, Miss Nimas and Mr. Jaka are the gossip material of people. Especially if it affects the efforts of Bu Nimas and Pak Jaka", I said full of concern.

"Mother and Father are proud, Nduk. You are proud to have a strong and strong child like you. The average girl your age would choose an abortion if pregnant out of wedlock. Your heart grieves when reading news of abandoned babies or illegal abortion practices. I believe this is the path God chose to answer the prayers of the Father. Business problems, God's stipulation that regulates", said Mr. Jaka.

"Is it really okay, sir, Mom?" I still doubt.

"Follow your heart, son" said Bu Nimas

I thought for a moment. There's a lot of worry in my mind. My mother said she would be ashamed if her child became pregnant without a husband, even though the cause was rape. While the people I just met today, just asked me to be their adopted child. I am proud of the decisions I made.

After pondering for a while, I finally decided. "Before I really felt very grateful for the kindness of Bu Nimas and Pak Jaka. I was so moved. At a time when everyone scoffs at me and sneers at me, including my own mother. It is precisely Bu Nimas and Pak Jaka who are proud and support the decision I made. I don't know how else to express my gratitude. I would be proud to be the son of Bu Nimas and Pak Jaka".

"Then call him not Bu Nimas, Mr. Jaka that again. Mothers can. Or do you want Mama-Papa to be cooler? Or Mommy-Daddy to get rich with those Caucasians? Hahaha", said Mr. Jaka joking.

Plaque. Bu Nimas hit the thigh of her husband. "Ouch, Father. Dhewe iki wong Jowo. Ora, you need to be weird. Coaching wong podho guyu kabeh, wong iki rupane podho ireng mlenges but pretentious Mommy-Daddy!" said Bu Nimas nagging.

(Ouch, Father. We are Javanese. Don't be weird. Later on everyone laughs, this guy is apparently jet black but pretentious Mommy-Daddy!)

"Yo ora ireng mrenges pisan tho, ma'am. Sago mateng, Bu, sapodilla mateng" said Pak Jaka protested his wife's remarks.

(It's not jet black either, ma'am. Sapodilla ripe, ma'am, sapodilla ripe)

"Yo wes sawo mateng. But ojo kematengen, mengko bukosok" Bu Nimas bersoloh.

(Yes it is ripe. But don't overcook, it'll rot)

I laughed crisply at these two people who were now my foster parents. The discussion was exciting and friendly, a sight I never found in my parents, when my father was alive. Is this the harmonious family? Thought.

"I can call Pakne and Bune? I feel warm if I use such a call", I said giving advice.

"Wah. Pakne likes the horror. From now on Pakne wants to call Bune as well as Mom. Hehehe" asloh Pakne.

I extended my hand alternately to Pakne and Bune. "May Wulan be filial to Pakde and Bune, yes?” I said with a tone of reverence.

"Yes, son" Bune said as he stroked my hair.

"Bu, meatballs mix one. The meat is a half-two portion. Put on all butts, yes", exclaimed a woman who appeared to be carrying boys and girls who looked the same age. Maybe brothers with a difference that is not much different.

"Drink what, Mom?” tanyaku.

"Hmm, is there ice cantaloupe?"

"She, Mom. How many glasses of ice will it be?" I continued to ask.

"Two yes, Ma'am", replied the customer.

Customers one by one came and began to crowded the stall "Bakso Barokah" when entering dinner time. Some choose to eat on the spot, some choose to be wrapped. I helped as much as I could. Sometimes preparing drinks, sometimes cleaning the table or helping to wash dirty glasses and bowls.

Ten o'clock past finally the trade runs out and we start to improve. I, who was told by Bune from eight o'clock to rest, refused, I intend to help until the stall closes. In the middle of the event, there are still one or two customers who approach because they intend to buy meatballs. We disappointed our customers for not being able to serve. Apparently this meatball stall of my adoptive parents is indeed in demand, because it tastes good and delicious.

After the stalls closed completely, we crossed the road to go to the boarding house and the residence of Pakne and Bune.

"Now just rest, Nduk. Must be tired of it. Tomorrow we continue to talk. Pakne and Bune still want to know what your future plans are going to be like" when we have entered the living room which is a room to receive guest boarding.

"I'm saying yes, Pakne, Bune"

"Yes, Son. Bune's room is at the end of yes, room with light brown door. If there's anything, just tap don't hesitate" Bune said as he pointed at his room.

"Corn, Bune. Leres, maturnuwun", I replied.

(Yes, Bune. Fine, thank you)

I noticed, the doors of the room of the hostesses were dark brown. It seems deliberately distinguished to distinguish between occupant rooms and landlady.

As I moved to the second floor, I passed by one of the hostesses who greeted me kindly.

"New residents, Ma'am?” ask her while smiling kindly.

"Eh, yes. Introduce, I Wulan mbak, uh ce", I replied, again reacting when interacting with ethnic Chinese.

"Hahaha, relax. I have no problem what I am called. Stephanie, commonly called Fani" he reached out.

I shake hands with him. "Greetings, ce" I said smilingly.

"Petra too? What semester?"

"Yes Ce, maba. Department of Business Accounting"

"Hmm, two years under me. I'm fifth semester, Architecture. Where's the room? First floor what two?”

"Chairman, Ce"

"I'm on the first floor. You can't be bobo if you don't use AC, Surabaya puanas" he said while grinning.

"I'm a country boy, Ce. Never used AC. Maybe it could catch a cold if you use AC" my sloth.

"Cost is still quiet, because it is still a semester off. I'm a member of BEM, a MOS committee. That's why we went to Salatiga. Yes, it is malem. You rest, I'll rest too"

"Yes, good rest"

The time had already shown eleven o'clock by the time I got to the room. I changed my clothes because I was sweating after helping out at Pakne and Bune meatball stalls. It's late, I'm lazy to take another shower.

Wulan poured down her tired body while thinking about what Mr. Jaka said about Wulan's plan in the future. Wulan himself did not have a clear view for the problem. While waiting for a deep cradle, Wulan began to think about and organize his plans. Will Wulan's plan be realized easily and without obstacles?