Not as Beautiful as Nur Laela's Dream
Finding a Way Out

The journey is not too long until they enter the residential area.

The man had stopped the speed of the motor in front of a house. A little hard while dropping Laela's suitcase from her motorcycle.

It was very different when he lowered his eggs which numbered 10 shelves and had been tied into two halves.

Huh, very favorit.

Over there is a cool motorbike parked in the yard of NMAN's house. Sure if the big bike is one that belongs to the house. Why should he be helped with this bike?

"Bw, .... Mother, ....!" The man shouted to call his mother from the terrace.

the so-called tergopoh-gopoh approached by rubbing slowly hands on the batik gloves he used.

"It's mom, there's a stray chick." His words slightly turned to show the foreign girl he had just met.

" Astagfirullah!" Plan the mother with her hands placed on her chest.

Never thought of him, Nizam, the son he knew best in his family. There's never been a story about his son. The son of the family pride, which he had entrusted in the boarding school to study religion more deeply.

All I know about this son, Nizam never wants to be close to a woman who is not his mahram. Except that in an emergency, considering the work of his son who entered the rescue team.

But now, his proud son brought a woman whom he did not know.

"Who?" He whispered softly after holding the boy's wrist.

Keep the feelings of the guests.

"Not knowing, Mom, I saw you on the bridge like you were going to kill yourself." Nizam also whispered, before rushing inside. It seems like the man is in a hurry. The business of the girl he left to mother.

"Astagfirullaah."

"Come on in, son!" Invite the mother to her guest who is silent at the door of the house.

Beautiful, with a dress that he said also displays the financial ability of this girl.

Laela was still speechless, hesitant to step up. Mother pulled her hand into the living room, knowing if this guest must be hesitant.

"Whose name?" Start introductory session.

"Laela ma'am." Laela answered softly, looking down still embarrassed.

He had guessed a brief conversation between the mother and the man earlier. He wanted to protest if he had no intention to kill himself on the bridge just enjoy the view of the river flow. But the courage to say no.

This place is foreign to him, even to his people. He doesn't know what else will happen after this.

While the mother was just a mangut-mangut, the hand still grasped the hand of the girl.

Before long, a man came out of the house with a small run signifying Iya haste. Hands are busy buttoning up his shirt. Woven gloves wrapped around the waist complete with black peci, increasingly displaying an aura of good looks.

"Mom Nizam is gone." The word also hastily.

Wait a minute, that guy was like the guy who was helping him on the bridge. Why it looks so different.

The man who had just passed by looked even more handsome than that dandy man.

Are they twins?

Laela looked at herself with her own thoughts.

"Yes, we are also magrib-an first yes. while waiting for Nizam." The pat on the back of the hand resuscitated Laela from her illusion.

Nizams. Nizams. Nizams

The man's name was Nizam.

But which guy?

Following the instructions of the mother, the owner of the house. Magrib is the only two in this house. Back to the living room, he said waiting for Nizam.

Until the door of the house opened slowly, displaying the handsome man earlier. Men who wear koko sarong and peci. Is this what Nizam is called?

Followed by the middle-aged man behind him.

"Please enter Sir!" The man whose name was Nizam allowed the man behind him to enter.

Laela straightened her body, suppose she was welcoming these people.

"Please sit down RT sir!" Say Nizam again.

"Thank you, thank you!" The so-called Mr. RT sat down with a smile.

But there were still other middle-aged men who joined them in the living room.

H. Muhidin, a middle-aged man who was made an imam in their village.

Laela was now confused about where to go, when in this room there was only her own woman.

"This is what Nizam's talking about?" Mr. RT's gaze now leads to him still with a smile on his face.

Laela stared one by one the members of the impromptu forum. He enjoyed one face only, Nizam's face, but confusion also struck the heart. What did Nizam talk about him to these people?

"So why, son?" The question was specific to Laela who was still thrown with a smiling face. Mr. Rt is very friendly. " Where is the address?"

Sisters? Your sister's head. Laela bearded, she is more suitable to be a child than Pak RT's sister than a sister.

And it felt like the greeting sounded ludicrous in Laela's ears.

Laela did not answer, preferring to bow her face when Mr. RT still looked at her with a smile, but there was no intention whatsoever from the middle-aged man. Only show a friendly nature to guests who visit the area. Laela felt too much.

" What's your name? We have not yet known!" The man who said he had the name Nizam was more friendly.

"Sailor." His voice again lowered, his guts really felt shrunken to be in this situation.

Finally, I came with a tray in hand.

Ah relieved it felt, at least someone accompanied him, fellow women.

"Where is your address?" Nizam asked back. The belief was still great if this girl came from the city, that was what she valued from appearance.

The girl looked down, not answering. Because he doesn't want to go home right now. They asked for the address to take him home.

" Who knows your family." Nizam.

"Stttt,..." A light clap touched Nizam's hand, stopping the man's interrogation.

"So how's Mr RT?" The man who had clapped Nizam's hand.

"Well, let's ask him how he wants it?" Mr. RT.

"You want how. It's night, you don't want to say anything either." Nizam, despite having tried to hide his frustration but still a little visible. Upset because the girl kept quiet despite being showered with questions.

He deliberately told Mr. RT and his village imam. Didn't want slander to happen because he took a girl to his house at night.

Also want to ask for advice where the girl will be accommodated tonight.

"It's okay, Mom. "

Mr. RT, I beg you for permission, let my guest sleep last night at my house." Negative speculation in this girl has been shown in the mother's brain. Not wanting anything to happen, this girl seemed not to want to go home. He did not want to talk about the house.

"Can't do it Mom!" a man named Nizam.

"I'm the same he's not a mahram, can't look at it." Further.