12 Badoets
Loro's Naked

January of 1992

The rainy season is not over yet. Although not as great as December, but puddles of water are still created every morning. Mosquito larvae appear to squirm in empty cans of rusty milk.

This morning the sun seemed timidly showing its rays among the thin clouds that were moving slowly. The sound of the chicken was not as loud as usual. Truly a day that begins with a sense of laziness.

Four people sat on a slum couch in a rickety house. The sound of the radio sounded a little buzzing play pop hits song titled Angan. One of the men who had a scorpion tattoo on his arm appeared to be holding a knife used to shave off his dense leg hair.

"Auwww" cried Trisno, a man who had a scorpion tattoo on his arm as a knife scratched the skin of his thin leg. A reddish liquid dripped from the gaping wound.

"Be careful guobl*k!" snarled Umar, a man who was busy listening to the radio earlier.

"Maybe you were told to seek Trisno's treatment" said Anwar, a man wearing a plaid-motif scabbard.

"Cangk*mmu War's. After robbing a lot of money continues every day you talk penitent?" trisno replied while rubbing her bloody foot.

"Heh, don't be so loud! If heard by others it can be troublesome!" bentak Umar's.

"Salahin tuh temenmu Anwar. Every day the talk of penitentity. Just the cleanest!" Trisno grumbling.

Anwar stood up from his seat. The thin mustache above the lips appears curved with a reddened face hue holding back anger.

"What happened yesterday was a mistake! We are all great sinners. What's wrong with me reminding you of penance?" Anwar was emotional. He put both his hands on his waist.

"If you regret and feel guilty, why still accept the division of the spoils? Huh huh? Why don't you just donate it?" Trisno.

"Damn it! Stand up! Let's go to the yard. We finish it in men. Reminds people like you of the need to be violent so that your hard-headed stone can be broken!" gertak Anwar challenges Trisno to a fight. Now the scorpion-tattooed man was silent. He realized that among the horde only Umar was able to balance when fighting jotos with Anwar.

"That's it. Stop this unimportant fight. You must remember, whatever happens, what we have done to Sumiran remains a secret oath that we will take to the grave." Umar emphasized his words.

"Where is number 4, by the way? Unseen was the trunk of his nose for days," asked Umar to divert the conversation.

"Don't you know? Reportedly he is now studying to his shaman subscriptions. You still remember the shaman who was asked to rain at that time," Trisno replied still rubbing his bloody legs. Umar.

At the same time, the sound of the song on the radio stopped playing. Replaced a newscast read by a female broadcaster with a stiff tone and intonation. It is reported that fifty thousand money lost in the house of wealthy businessman Sumiran has serial numbers that sequence. It also mentions a row of numbers from the serial number of the money. As well as a competition for anyone who has money with the serial number mentioned in order to immediately report to the authorities and be rewarded 3 times the amount of money.

"Good money is not in a hurry to spend." Umar patted his own forehead.

"Where do you keep the money?" ask Anwar full of questions.

"Surely, calm down" replied Umar lightly.

"That's evidence, don't let you wear it, you know" Anwar warned.

"Yes I know. After all, the money should be for our boss number 1. Unfortunately if it's like this maybe he's not interested anymore" murmured Umar, his gaze was far-reaching.

"He doesn't need money. From the beginning the plan was made, not a matter of money is the goal," Anwar argued. Umar mangosteen agrees.

"I want to go home. Listening to you babbling here won't make me rich. Mending me a drink and drunk till night" Trisno said suddenly. He got up from his seat and walked out of the house. His feet still look red from the scratch.

"He's our friend. Why look at him so hatefully?" Umar mutters.

"My hands itch. Among others Trisno is the most difficult to manage. I never agreed he'd join us." Anwar snorted in annoyance. Umar just smiled at Anwar's words.

There was one person who had just been silent in the corner of the room even though his other colleagues were arguing even just about to hit. That's Santoso. The man seems to be getting thinner. A blackened eye basin indicates a lack of sleep. He was biting his fingernails with a blank look.

"Let the Trisno. I was worried about him" Umar said, pointing to Santoso.

"You pushed him too much, Mar. I thought he shouldn't have come yesterday." Anwar sighed.

"He needs that money. I know damn well. His parents were in debt in large numbers. If he does not come, the other friends also ogah give him a part. How else to." Umar shrugged both his shoulders.

"After all, he himself initially asked. Although in the end he was about to withdraw, but had already participated in preparing and knew the plan," continued Umar.

"The problem, even though he had a lot of money to pay off the debt and the interest, was that he was unhappy. His parents did not stop debt. We use dirty money for good, the result is still dirty Umar," said Anwar, his expression suddenly changed.

"For me the money wasn't dirty War. There is our right in it. Sumiran started his business using money belonging to his colleagues. Isn't it natural to ask him back when I need to? My son is sick War. I don't hold a dime" said Umar.

"Your son? The widow's son you mean?" argue Anwar cynical.

"You're starting to piss me off Anwar. Everything someone else does is always wrong in your eyes. The truth is you are one. Never mind, I'm going home!" yupak Umar is angry. He walked out of the house and grabbed his jengk bicycle that was leaning against the front porch wall.

"Sad. Two friends are both drunkards. The one drunk the drink the one drunk the woman," Anwar chuckled.

Suddenly Santoso stood up from his seat, making Anwar a little shocked. Santoso was still silently daydreaming, his forehead shrinking like he was thinking of something.

"What's wrong?" asked Anwar curiously.

"I'm going to the parlor" Santoso replied briefly.

"Huh?" Anwar scrunched his forehead.

"I'm going to take his son Mr. Sumiran. Poor boy there." Santoso.

"You're not sane!" anwar Bengpak.

"However Mr. Sumiran is good to me. At least I will take care of his son," Santoso replied still blankly.

"You think that way your sins are forgiven?" Anwar glares.

"I'm not looking for forgiveness!" pekik Santoso and immediately ran out of the house.

"Hey hey, shit! This one is already gil*!" Shouted Anwar was unable to prevent Santoso who was running in a frenzy of loyalty.

Connect___