The Bujang Lapuk
Palau

"Where are you, huh?" ask Za to Alya who just came down from the bian motorbike.

"From the doctors keep stopping by here. Pingin dimasakin Bulek garang asem."

Za smiled wryly. His mother was so attentive. Even to Alya. It turned out that the asem he ate was cooked at Alya's request.

"It's healthy, isn't it?" Za rubbed Alya's stomach which was already seen blooming.

"Alhamdulillah. Hopefully soon after, Ma'am. Don't procrastinate."

Za could only smile. Somehow a smile this time. Must be bad to see. Proven by Bian.

"His relatives are upset with his brother Mas Bian."

"Sokay know!" refute Za. He went into the house after Alya. Before Bian interrogated him.

Like her own child, Za's mother prepared a meal for Alya. There was a sense of pain either because of what slipped into Za's heart. Envy, maybe that kind of thing. Iri was treated like Alya. Stabbed his stomach while climbing a prayer. Za hurriedly brushed it off. Although it wasn't easy. Maybe because of his sensitive mood.

Za chose to sit on the sofa. Trying to ignore her mother and Alya. Even with the distance of the dining table and the living room sofa not far away, he still caught the voice of his mother talking to Alya. There was nothing strange about their conversation. His mother's good attitude is nothing new. But fmampu make Za uring alone. He took the key and went ahead.

"Za!" call Bian who just came out of his room. "Fadhil call, here! You didn't leave? He's too bad to turn on you," he said again.

"You ah!" sahut Za ketus while passing ignoring Bian.

"That's why, anyway?" muttered Bian astonished at Za who was acting strangely.

Riding a motorcycle without a purpose. Down the alley by the gang of the housing complex.

A motorbike lines up the slow pace of its vehicle. Za. The motor sport rider walking beside him unlocked his full face helmet.

"Don't go far, Za. Later on!"

Za throbbing. I don't know when Ghani could be a little serious.

"Where are you going, Za?" ask Ghani again.

"Eat meatballs," replied Za origin. Because he really has no purpose. Let alone eating meatballs, his appetite just somehow disappeared to nowhere.

"Need friends, right? Eating alone is not good, you know."

"Mode!" sahut Za ketus's. But he let Ghani follow him because of the sound of another driver's horn warning them.

Arriving at the meatball stall, Za parked her motorbike in a quiet place because in front of the meatball stall lined with parked motorcycles.

Ignoring Ghani, he went in first ordering two bowls of meatballs and two cups of water.

"Have you a message, Za?" ghani asked as Za looked for a seat.

A seat located on the inside is the only one left. They also went to the table.

Ghani took off his leather jacket leaving his shirt still tidy even though he just came home from work. Working at a financial institution does require Ghani to always appear slippery. Especially as a frontliner.

"A really bad mess, Za?" A very precise guess from Ghani.

"Hungry."

"Makanya learned to cook, Za. Don't wait for your mother to cook if she wants to eat."

"Enak. I can cook as long as you know yes, Mas," said Za did not accept.

"Thank God. It's okay, afraid your husband ran away if his wife can't cook."

Za knew Ghani was joking. But it still sounds flaky. Maybe Fadhil won't run because Za can't cook. But it could happen because Za expels bad thoughts that pass.

"Eat, Za!" Ghani shifts the hot bowl in front of Za.

The smell of the meatballs teasing his tongue. Za added a lot of sambal and also saos immeasurable. Ghani shook his head to see him.

Za did not argue. He did not count how many spoons of sambal he put in his bowl. It was just that the clear broth had turned brownish-red as he stirred it.

"Well! It's so spicy, Mom." Za's white face suddenly turned pungent red.

"You did not say anything. Exchanges for Mas Ghani's, nih!"

"It's really bad, Mas. Really."

Ghani tasted the meatball sauce from Za's bowl. "Crazy of you, Za. Here mix it up later for two."

Ghani's silly idea was accepted by Za. They took two bowls of meatballs until the spiciness became reduced. Let alone mixing meatballs that they have not eaten, eating a single plate is normal for them. But that was when they were kids.

While chattering, they enjoy meatballs with the sensation of an extraordinary spicy taste. It was as if Za had forgotten her problem for a moment. Because Ghani likes to make a joke.

"Ouch!" Za patted his forehead.

"Why, Za?"

"Forgot a wallet, Mas," said Za while grinning. "Bayarin huh, Mas?" he said again with a face.

Ghani sighed softly. "Luckily, I came along if I couldn't be told to wash your bowls, Za."

Za chuckles after Ghani who is about to pay for the meatballs. It's nothing, because to pay for parking he didn't bring any money. Walking behind Ghani is the safest option. Because surely Ghani will pay double parking as well.

Za drove first followed by Ghani. The afternoon walk at work is very busy. If she was okay, Za would have been reluctant to go to the street. But the atmosphere of the house makes it uncomfortable. It's nobody's fault. Only he could not make peace with the situation.

"Za, Mas Ghani wants to buy martabak first. Alya had a message. He said he was home again" Ghani exclaimed from behind his helmet.

Za didn't say. All the attention seemed to be on Alya. Ghani who had made him a little entertained now turned annoying for him.

"You want to buy them, don't you?"

"No! I want ice chocolate," said Za Ketus.

"It's normal that his face does not need to be teased," Ghani replied and then he re-positioned his bike behind Za.

Martabak sellers of Ghani family members of course Za is very understanding. He stopped his bike in front of a mini market. Waiting for Ghani who is ordering martabak. Because he would charge his neighbor to buy him ice chocolate whose wagon was not far from the martabak seller.

"Two yes, Mas," Za rayu.

"Don't just two, Za. Just like Mas Ghani buyin," said Ghani. "Tomorrow you sell. Nyetor to Mas Ghani."

"Ashim!"

Two cups of chocolate ice are already in hand. But the martabak queue is still snaking. Za was forced to wait because she was actually lazy to come home.

Za sipped his chocolate ice while waiting for the martabak to be made.

"Tumben you're running around on your own, Za. Chaotic again?"

After passing through the tens of minutes and hundreds of meters distance the question was thrown and made Za speechless. Is it possible that his face is so obvious if he's harboring trouble?

"Just want to, Mas. Mas Ghani did not understand so housewives are boring," said Za.

"Happy, Za. Later if you already have children will not be able to go alone."

Ze was silent again. Maybe the life cycle is like that. Born, grown up, married, had children, old, died. It's like all phases have to go through.

"Sok knows herbs, Mas. Marry not yet," said Za behaving as if she was fine.

"Well, Mas. Older hunt no one wants to be with you."

"Cowok is relaxed, Za. Your husband can get you a lot younger" Ghani replied as if without burden. Not so with his face.