12 Badoets
Pitulas

Angkot stops right in front of the entrance of the shopping mall. Seems a lot of people are passing by. There is a large plastic bag containing groceries, there is also just hanging out on the outside of the plaza. The weather was quite blistering, making Wildan squinting when out of the angkot.

"Why are we here?" ask Wildan confused.

Angel ignored Wildan's question. He walked into a small alley located next to the plaza. Wildan followed behind Angel. He clenched his mouth tightly, because he realized the woman in front of him was reluctant to open the conversation.

The condition of the alley in the middle of the city looks seedy and narrow. Several stalls lined up, selling food to the plaza employees. The crowd made Wildan uncomfortable. Worried that his face that had been plastered in the newspapers as a fugitive would be recognized by people.

As the foot stepped in further and further into the alley, the atmosphere changed. Silent and lonely. Some less manicured homes line up with uniform paint colors. Angel glanced at Wildan who was behind him.

"Why are you such a frightened person?" ask Angel full search.

"Did you forget that I'm a fugitive now. Taking me into the crowd I think is a reckless idea" Wildan protested.

"Ohhh, about that. Take it easy, in the city, people won't pay much attention to you. They are busy with their own business. There's no time to see strangers" Angel said. He moved his feet back down the narrow road.

About ten minutes, they arrived at the end of the alley. A simple house with pale white paint, with wooden door leaves that look dull. Although the house is closed, Angel without permission immediately pushed the door and entered the living room.

Wildan kept tailing behind. When entering the living room, it appears that the old rattan chair is arranged circularly in the middle of the room. There is a closet in the corner with a display of strange and ancient looking bowls. A woman in glasses with long black hair came over.

"Enter people's homes without excuse. Good thing I didn't yell at the nut!" snapped girl in glasses.

"I don't think anyone. Oh yeah, I brought the son of Clown number 2. Introduce his name Wildan," said Angel pointed to Wildan who was still busy paying attention to the living room of the foreign house.

"Ah, yes. My name is Wildan."

Wildan extended his right hand to shake his hand.

"I'm Nilla" said the bespectacled woman, ignoring Wildan's call to shake hands.

"I want to change clothes first" continued Nilla. He walked into the room, and closed the door quite tightly.

"Hi hi hi." Angel chuckles.

"What's so funny?" Wildan.

"You know who Nilla is? He is the son of Mr. Sumiran," said Angel still with his neighing laughter.

"Who is Sumiran?" ask Wildan not understand.

"Ha ha ha. You don't know anything boy," Angel's laughter grew louder.

The sound of the door opening. The door is located not far from the closet in the corner of the room. Nilla came out of the room wearing a white oversize t-shirt and pink shorts. The fragrance of perfumes and a little sweetness wafted out in the air.

"My father's voice was the victim of a clown mask robbery in 1991" Nilla said, squinting at Wildan.

"And among the robber clowns were our parents Wildan. So, it's only natural that Nilla hates you" Angel said casually.

"Huh? Then, we came here to apologize for our parents' mistakes? Is that Ngel?" ask Wildan with wide eyes.

"I don't need an apology. Especially the clown kids. In reality neither I nor you were raised by an incomplete family" Nilla cut with a flat expression.

"Reportment?" Wildan's getting confused.

"Help Nilla hunt down the remaining clowns" Angel replied with a serious facial expression. His eyes gidded at Wildan who occasionally gulped, soaking his dry throat.

"You mean we should commit a crime? Staking out? Stalking out? Even harming others? Edan! I don't want to!" Wildan immediately stood up, rejecting Angel's proposal.

"If you refuse, I'll call the nearest police officer! You are a fugitive!" threaten Nilla with her round eyeballs behind thick glasses.

Wildan was speechless, at a loss for words. It was like being in the cage of two lionesses. While he feels like Jawara the rooster. Just the name alone sounds brave, in fact only soft prey that is not filling.

"Huh? Ha ha ha ha ha. Look at Nilla's 'mendho' face. As per my message on whatsapp, right? I brought a unique man nan beg*!" Angel chuckled, followed by Nilla. Their laughter broke at the same time. Wildan gawking.

"Nilla just pranks you. Damnit damnit! Your panicked face made me laugh so much that I was crying" Angel said, patting her own thighs.

"What does that mean?" Wildan demanded an explanation.

"You think we're gonna be invaders*t? A fugitive like you?" Nilla chuckles.

"Wildan, we came here for redemption. But not to harm clowns. Instead of trying to find ways and loopholes to prove their sins in the past, and drag them behind bars. Let their old age reap the rewards of ignorance*n that has been sown," explained Angel. His voice sounded vibrating. His face also looked red.

"And that's all the key is in you" Angel pointed to Wildan.

"Me?" ask Wildan not understand.

"Yes, 50 thousand old and your father's will" replied Angel.

Wildan was silent. Deep down, he still denies that his father was involved in a crime*n. Moreover, the name Sumiran which Angel said as a victim of deprivation* is a name that is often called by his Father first when in a drunken condition. The name is said to be the cause of Ibuk Wildan's death.

"It's dumb, hey!" angel shouted, breaking Wildan's daydream.

"I still do not understand the contents of the will of the Father," continued Wildan Iirih.

"Can we see it?" pinta Nilla's.

There was no other choice for Wildan. He took out a wooden box inside his backpack. Then take out a piece of old paper that folds neatly in the box.

"Keep it where it all started. See you in hell." Angel and Nilla read together Wildan's father's will.

"What's this weird number?" ask Angel curious.

Wildan shook his head slowly. Although actually he already knew that the series of numbers was a serial number of fifty thousand old money, one of which was in the hands of Wildan. He still can't trust Angel and Nilla.

"Mean, I told you I don't understand. The will is strange" Wildan murmured.

"Maybe the Clowns understood the meaning and content of this letter. I assume this will is not for his son, but for the clowns, his comrades." Angel conveys his conjecture. A smart and reasonable guess.

"Then, the thread of destiny is currently moving with great precision. I just got information about someone who is most likely one of the Clowns. Take this letter to her, and ask her what it means!" Nilla smiled broadly. A horrible looking smile with fiery eyes.

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