The Bujang Lapuk
Treaty of Ghani

Tin!

The sound of the horn shocked Za. He almost passed the alley into his house. Instantly he slowed down the speed of his motor. Turn the vehicle into his alley.

"Dream it!" ghani said as he held out a plastic bag.

"What is this, Mom?" ask Za.

"Udah knows martabak's wearing his nanya again."

"Who do you mean. He said Mas Ghani bought it for Alya."

"Make you. Do it for Alya."

"But this is chocolate, right? I don't like it. Just make Alya everything," Za refused later.

Ghani sighed softly even in the day of the storm. "Seat cheese, Za. Mas Ghani still knows you like corn cheese martabak," he said withholding patience. "If not the wife of the man I kissed you, Za" she murmured.

Za sloughed. "Brave?!" sahut while taking off the sandals and preparing to shake the head of his somplak neighbor.

Ghani. He put the plastic bag on the handlebar of Za's motorbike and drove back home.

"Based stress. Pantes don't do it!" Za muttered and left the motorcycle in front of the fence because the porch of his house was full of motorcycles owned by Bian, his father and Fadhil. Apparently Fadhil suckled her. Za was getting ready to get scolded. Since this afternoon, he deliberately turned off his phone.

With a confident step Za went inside. Break through the empty living room. There was nobody in the middle room. Only her mother cooks in the kitchen.

Za put down a plastic bag containing martabak Ghani's gift. The smell of butter mixed with cheese made her suddenly hungry again even though a few minutes ago she had just finished a bowl of meatballs.

"Where are you, Za?" ask her mother while concocting the ingredients she will cook.

"Eat meatballs, Mom."

"Having eaten meatballs still eating martabak?" ask his mother wonder.

"Darling if not eaten. If it's cold it won't be good."

His mother shook her head to see Za bite the hot martabak.

"Love to Alya. He wanted to eat martabak, he said."

"Alya bought Ghani, Mom. This is also him who bought." said Za still a little annoyed.

25 Years of being an only child feels like not willing to share attention even though he is an adult. Za was astonished by herself who was so sensitive if everyone noticed Alya who was pregnant.

"Where did you meet Ghani?" ask her mother again.

"On the road," said Za as he left the dining table.

Despite not seeing her husband's whereabouts, Za seemed not to want to know where Fadhil was. Because the bike is in front. He went into the room. The most supportive place to be alone. Although not too broad as the room in her husband's house, Za arranged in such a way that he felt at home lingering in it.

When he opened the door, he found Fadhil sleeping on the bed. Her smooth snoring sounded marked if her husband was exhausted. These days Fadhil is a lot of work. More often leave it at home from morning and will go home in the afternoon. But today Fadhil caught up with him before dark.

Staring at that calm face, Za suddenly nelangsa. Fadhil was such a good husband. Treat Za with special. But what can he do to make Fadhil happy. With all her flaws now, maybe forever she will be an imperfect wife.

The ringing sound of the phone made Za flinch. He looked for the source of the voice that turned out to be in Fadhil's pants pocket. The owner of the phone slowly opened his eyes. Then he reached into his pants pocket and the sound stopped.

"Dad!" Fadhil called out to Za with his still raucous voice.

"Where did it come from?" tanyanya.

"From..buy martabak," said Za. "You want martabak?"

"Yes, sorry. It was probably unintentionally pushet died alone," said Za again lying.

He approached Fadhil with anxiety. Because Fadhil must have taken his phone from the bag. It was possible that her husband had found an envelope that was also stored in it.

But seeing Fadhil's mediocre reaction, Za was a little relieved. She suddenly wanted to hug her husband. There was a fear of loss that suddenly ambushed.

"Why?" ask Fadhil while opening his wife's head covering. Until Za's long hair tied free.

"Nothing. Just want to hug. Longs. Lately it's been busy."

Fadhil laughed softly. "sorry. We're not going anywhere tomorrow."

"really? I'll go again."

"Really, Honey. Where do you want company?"

"At home only. Not going anywhere."

Fadhil took a long breath. He was astonished by his wife who was more at home even though many times he gave his wife freedom anywhere. Several months they married, never once saw Za carrying a grocery bag except shopping needs home. Za's clothes that's it. Until he himself bought clothes even though he had to get a scolding because the price according to Za dear if only to buy clothes.

Za moved away from Fadhil. Take a towel and change of clothes. Although the smell of perfume mixed with sweat is like opium. But it's almost night. And from the clothes that were worn since this morning, clearly Fadhil took to cleaning himself after a day in the workshop.

"Go take a shower, Mas."

"Bareng, yuk!"

"God! Which house is this?!" sahut Za reminded.

Ze followed her husband who walked out of the room. Hugged Fadhil until he was at the bathroom door. He screeched as Fadhil pulled him into the bathroom. Then rush out before the door on the lock. Fadhil's laughter echoed in the bathroom.

With a face that blushed because of his mother's attention, Za returned to the dining table. Eating martabak that just lying around. The sweet food was no longer so attractive to his father and mother. If you know Ghani was going to buy it, of course Za will choose salty martabak. But his name is also given, Za still eat it so as not to mubadzir.

"That's a great joy for your son" said Ms. Rahma, putting down a glass of warm tea.

Za just smiled in response. Yes, he was happy with Fadhil. Only one thing should complete their happiness. The sounds of babies that they may never have among them.

"Who do you drink it for, Mom?"

"Make Dad. It does not use sugar. Fadhil was Tawari's mother but he said he drank water alone."

Za nodded his head. He was not surprised because Fadhil only occasionally drank tea. The rest consume more water.

An outstretched hand snatched a piece of martabak. From the ashes of soap that clearly smelled of course it was Fadhil's hand.

"Hurry up for the bath?"

"Why again? Soaking in a tub?"

Za throbbing. The bathroom in his house was just a bathtub. Not a bath up like at her husband's house.

"Sir, go to the hospital, okay? Earlier Om Irsyad told the family group that Mbak Fatma had been born."

"Well, it's not like there's not nine yet, is it?" za asked a little surprised.

"Yes. But the baby was born. Something is possible. Thank God the baby is healthy. Women."

The smile on Fadhil's face actually made Za pinch. He tried to divert by helping his mother cook. Za doesn't know what to say about Fadhil's invitation to visit his newborn cousin's sister.