Way Home
71 Is not a coincidence

Three days later, Hazri lives in her new home. Two days ago, aided by Karno, he installed a new water pump and a television antenna. Haji Slamet legacy water pump is old, not strong nyedot. Television is also mandatory, that is the main source of information to know the development of Jogja. Buy in the city, just 14” so the same generally belongs to the citizens here. All beds and guest chair tables are simple, cheap. Dispenser is not left behind, drinking is one of the obligations of life. About easy eating, there is a stall near this new house. Delicious too, good.

Today there are PLN officers tampering with the electricity meter. Through Karno, Hazri asked for help to be managed to increase electric power. Too mepet felt if only 450 Watts. Ask to be made 900 Watts so that the pepper is loose. By PLN officers it is even recommended all go up to 1200 Watts. Just okay.

While looking at the two PLN officers working, Hazri sat on a wooden bench under a rambutan tree twisting her kauuka prayer beads. Yesterday Karno and his son Marno made this bench after installing a television antenna. The HP in his pocket rang, from Huda. Hazri smiles....

“Assalamu’alaikum, where is this..,” greet Huda.

“In Magelang, Mr. Haji.”

“Magelang? Not Jogja?”

“Bikin post first here.” while answering Hazri walk to the back of the house, near a small river. Find a safe place, be ready, know this phone call broke through the critical area of his fugitive status. “In the meantime, the closest and safest to Jogja in my opinion is here. Solo, Semarang, and Klaten are home to me.” Hazri continued.

“He-eh, he-eh..,” Huda understands. “Where in Magelang?”

“Name Tidar. Do you remember my story about the Japanese murders?”

“Eemm, Mister Day?”

“Yapc. Still strong memory yes ?.”

“Hehe....Huda...Why Ho?”

“Ya there. I now live in the house where I killed him.”

“Buskey! Nothing worse? Still haunting his spirit..”

“Hahaha.., Mahmoud.... Uh, Arif..”.

“Mahmud? Your name is Mahmud there?”

“He-eh. Replace again.”

“Againan Arif I guess.”

“Yes, for you Arif is okay. Let these people who are Mahmud.”

“Mahmud what?”

“Mahmud aka mamah easy.” joked Hazri.

“Hahaha...dah change profession now?”

Hazri also laughed.

“How to, Mamah?” pandas Huda

“What?”

“That house.”

“Good, tasty.”

“Enak? Your voice was already like genderuwo. Don't be in a trance now?”

“Hohoho..., fear of gender same student Shaykh Atha’ ilah. Where to have ‘Cakra Buana’ again..”.

“Crazy you. Really stay there?”

“Iya.”

There, Huda shakes his head. Huda told you to stay there? Woe.

“As you are...,” Huda gives up. “If I want to go there, to... what was his name? Mat...?”

“Tidar.”

“He-eh, Tidara.... Which way?” keep Huda.

“Mild. Exit the Magelang highway, straight up a little bridge. Later on the left there is a turning corner, follow. Not far from meeting the T-junction, turn right. Already, just follow that path. The end will reach Tidar. The road is winding, Hud, because it goes up to the mountain.”

“Ooh, his place in the mountain?”

Huda. “Keep when you get there, where to?”

“Wah, kinda hard. Just ask, say the house of Mr. Mahmud or his former home Haji Slamet. Must know them. Or, ask Mr. Karno only.”.

“Pak Karno?”

“Iya. He's the one here who helped me. Haji Slamet used to not live here anyway, maybe someone knows something is not.”

The conversation continued, until then it was completed by Huda.

“OK, Mom. There will be time to play there. All the legends of Magelang women, hehehe..”.

“Sip, wait. By the way, where are you now?”

“Barusan sandar in Mataram.”

Hazri. I wanted to go to Komeng, but later.

“OK, Rif, uh... Muds. I pull it off first. Beware genderuwo..”

“Hehe.... Equally, Haji.”

“Assalamu ‘alaikum.”

“Wa’alaikum greetings..”.

Hazri sighed while putting HP in her pocket. “Huda, Huda...,” he mumbled softly. Across the river, a group of carefree children ran across a rice fielder chasing a broken kite. It looks like the kite is about to fall into the river. Right turns. But, basic kids, never give up. They also fought quickly down to the river while shouting happily.

Interested, Hazri approached the river. Look at the behavior of the children earlier. Less clearly, the further he looked, his body lowered. Then, Swiying... HP was floated down, freefall into the small rocky river. Break it to pieces down there. Hazri patted the jidat.

He immediately went down to the river, hurried like the children earlier. Devastated, only a few handsets remain. Hazri bobbles head. About HP is easy, the problem is that the SIM Card is gone. Wanted not to meet, drifting seems. This is the water of this small river. The problem is, there is stored Huda's HP number. Hazri returned to her head.

The book is out of nowhere too. Wanted since yesterday did not meet, in the bag is not there, in the car was nil. His strong guess was left behind at the Sabri restaurant when he swapped cars with the Imam. When taking BPKB, Hazri did issue the agenda book, placed in an empty seat next to him. Keep forgetting, do not kebawa glide to Jogja.

Indeed, the contents are not dangerous, have no possibility to dismantle the disguise. There is no fatal record because the book is new, the old agenda book has been destroyed. Only, that's where Huda's only HP record number is. How now? He had to single again.

Almost three months already. Comfortable right Tidar. Until now Hazri feels as if he is still on the deck of the ship owned by Haji Huda, only the size of ‘giant’. Aman bin sentosa. Free to go around the village. He can leisurely go to Tidar Market without installing ‘Cakra Buana’. Freer. Want to buy goat satay, want to eat martabak telor, or want to snack meatballs, whatever. Enjoy right.

Residents of this village are generally friendly, not much calutak, want to know the affairs of people. Someone was wondering about work. But, after being bullied by Hazri by saying that he was a former sailor who was tired of sailing and wanted to live quietly on land, then no one else felt the need to continue the investigation.

And, there is, so spread the news that Mr. Mahmud is still a bachelor and wants to live a quiet life, so many girls often pass in front of the house every afternoon with sweet smiles. The widow also exists. Karno laughs when Hazri asks about this phenomenon.

Hazri can carry herself. Not happy even though it is very comfortable this situation. Watchfulness cannot be simply removed. Good or bad, he's still aware he's a fugitive. So, mingling with society is done, but not completely fused. Keep a safe distance. Because, he felt there was still a risk for him and for them if they mingled indefinitely.

Hazri refused an offer to become one of the village mosque managers, although she often hangs out there. Likewise with the offer of local youths who asked him to become a cadet reef builder. At first, the residents were a bit confused by Hazri's attitude. Benign pigeons, approaching. But they get used to it too. Maybe it is so suitably Mr. Mahmud. Let it be, the important thing is that the donation is smooth and large.

Community affairs were easy for Hazri who was difficult, really difficult, was to understand the reluctance of his heart to continue the journey to Jogja according to the original plan. In fact, Jogja is only a little more. Not lazy! Hazri could not be lazy to look at his men there. It's about another! A question he himself does not understand why. That feeling is incredible. It was like there was a powerful force holding him back to stay here, in the village of Tidar. Don't go there! That's how his heart felt. That sense of disdain had already arisen since the second day he had stayed here.

Not never tried to fight, the first first, tomorrow after adding electrical power at home. The night is ordinary, he makes plans tomorrow to go to Jogja. I miss Romi and Tomi. However, the next morning when he was about to leave suddenly his body shivered. No heat, no pain, just shiver until you can't get out of bed. Surprisingly, when shivering it ‘Cakra Buana’ as if lost from him, can not be called. Gigilan continued until Hazri finally sighed. “Allah. ..” then fall asleep alone.

The damage was tried again. The same! Directly shivering, nggelosor fell drooping on the floor. ‘Cakra Buana’ somehow escaped to where. Continues shivering, only stopping after he gave up surrender to Allah ‘ while crying as he pleased.

After that, long Hazri did not dare to act on this. Because, just a little desire arises to Jogja, shivering symptoms that immediately ambush. ‘Cakra Buana’ is ready to escape. If it continues it will happen again. Already, keep Hazri quiet about that.

Until a week ago. After a long time, who knows. Bakda ashar, Hazri again intends to go to Jogja. Because he was ready to defend, to fight. Shivering, forced to walk to the car. You can, get in the car. But, somehow Panther who had never had a problem was suddenly not willing to be distarter. Gigilan grew, but Hazri continued to fight. The engine hood was pulled open.

When he was about to get out to see the engine, suddenly blows shades of black into the car, clumping like smoke. I don't know what and where it came from. Direct stuffy.... Hazri panicked, hendel the door jammed pulled. Then, “Hegh...,” his neck felt strangled. Stifled it! not choke. Hazri said it, as if the death schedule had arrived. “Allah..,” he sighed. Stay strangled. “God...,” groans again. Still strangled too. “Allah.., ampuuun...,” resigned him, when the breath seemed to stay straight again. Blaise... As soon as this situation disappeared, everything returned to normal. Hazri wept and cried, repeatedly saying forgiveness to his Lord. Slowly fall asleep on your own. As if someone put him to sleep.

Waking up maghrib. “Allah...,” Hazri again sighed after her consciousness recovered. As if something was moving, with no desire in his heart, the ignition was rotated. Gramm.... The engine successfully lit up. Hazri was stunned, then pondered for a long time. Definitely not a coincidence. Too elegant to be considered a coincidence. This sense of reluctance must not be an arbitrary thing. His eyes twitched in glass, then two clear drops rolled down. “Ya Allah.. .,” his sigh slowly while moving out. Adzan maghrib sayup....

Secuil Coffee

Rambutan fruit is produced from the plant Nephelium lappaceum, still a family with longan, lychee and matoa. Rambutan belongs to the tropical fruit, believed to be native to Southeast Asia. Rambutan trees are widely cultivated in Indonesia, Thailand and Malaysia.

The name rambutan is taken from the word “ramut” term in Malay which means fur. Rambutan fruit means hairy fruit. The name is in accordance with the shape of the skin of the fruit overgrown with fine spines resembling feathers. In English this fruit is called by the same name, namely rambutan.

Rambutan fruit is round in color ranging from green, yellow to red. White fruit flesh tends to be clear. Ripe fruit tastes sweet to sour sweet. The only part that can be eaten is the flesh of the fruit, while the skin and seeds cannot be eaten.