12 Badoets
Papat

50 Thousand dollars with the year of printing 1991, looks whole and shiny. Wildan observed it, having suspected it was just a toy banknote. But judging from the material, Wildan believes that in his hands is real money.

Wildan sat down on the floor. He took the phone in his pants pocket. Then surfed in cyberspace, making sure there was no blue money in his hand in 1991.

"There really is" Wildan murmured as he looked at his search results on the internet.

"This is rare. Don't-don't cost many times over at this time," Wildan said enthusiastically. The sorrow that was torturous, is now a little lost. In his mind again appeared the desire to gamble which he referred to as an investment.

Wildan re-folded the old money and put it in a clear silicone cover. Then he took out the brown envelope that was inside the wooden box.

"White more" Wildan murmured as he tore off the tip of the envelope.

Inside the envelope was a letter. Wildan memorized the writing in the letter was his father's, looking neat with the letters upright connected.

"Keep it where it all started. See you in hell." Wildan read the top sentence of the letter.

After that sentence, Wildan felt increasingly clueless about the meaning and content of the letter because all the numbers are sequential.199114 199115 199116 and so on. The numbers filled the entire paper. At the lower right end of the letter is a signature. Also read Badoet 2.

Wildan repeated the reading of the sentence in the letter. However, he could not catch the message from the Father. Wildan returned the objects in his grasp into the wooden box. He immediately got up from the gloomy room with the scent of flowers that came out of nowhere, then walked tiptoe towards his room.

Wildan momentarily stared in the living room and observed Mr. Anwar who was sleeping very soundly. His mouth was open with a super hard purr typical of the Fathers. He felt guilty for judging Mr. Anwar as a chatty parent who likes to interfere and patronize. In fact, only Mr. Anwar is the one who cares about Wildan at the moment.

Wildan went back to his room. Then he kept a wooden box under the bed. While 50 thousand old money remains behind the silicone cover phone. Wildan laid down on a shabby mattress that felt hard. It was as if he was sleeping on a pile of wood.

The ceiling of the room is full of spider webs that hang black. There are also some lizards that settle for mosquito hunting. Wildan daydreamed, his mind distant. Remembering his friendship with the Father.

Wildan was not familiar enough with his father. Things he finally regretted at this moment. If time could be played back Wildan would like to at least have a conversation with his Father in the afternoon. Just ask if you have eaten? What are you thinking?

They live together under the same roof, but are indifferent and rarely greeting. Similar characters and characters make it difficult for the father and son to express his affection. When the Father was gone, it was only when Wildan's life became empty. A day saw his Father pensively on the living room couch, a common and trivial thing that Wildan now longs for.

"Sir, why did you leave me alone?" Wildan whimpered hugging bolsters. Her tears came back. It feels good, both heart and net. Slowly between his sobs, Wildan fell asleep.

...****************...

The strange crowing sound of Jawara woke Wildan from his sleep. The rooster with full wounds on his head was able to crow even though his voice was soft. Wildan rubbed his eyes and grabbed the phone on the table. At 6 am.

Wildan sat in the corner of the bed, spreading his gaze towards the living room. The sofa where Mr. Anwar slept on was empty. Blanket folded neatly on the sofa stand. Maybe Mr. Anwar has gone home, deliberately not waking up Wildan who is still asleep.

Sleep is a gift. With sleep everyone will forget about the problem. Sleep is like a restart button that will make people feel better when they wake up in the morning.

"Now I only have you Jawara. Eat a lot to be healthy again" said Wildan staring at Jawara. The rooster looked to him as if he understood his master's words.

Suddenly Wildan felt his stomach rumble. Hunger produces a strange sound from the intestines of twelve fingers in the stomach. Wildan remembered, since yesterday afternoon no rice had entered his mouth. Hunger forced him to head to the kitchen even though he was not sure there were any ingredients.

As he was about to head to the kitchen, Wildan passed by my father's room. Suddenly the door of the room opened from within, making Wildan jump startled to death.

"Br*k!" wildan Ogat.

The figure that came out of the room of the Father was no less shocked than Wildan. His eyes glared while holding his own chest.

"Sir Anwar?" screeched Wildan with his mouth agape. In fact, Mr. Anwar has not returned, but is in the room of the Father.

"What are you doing in my father's room?" ask Wildan wonder.

"Eh, ng nganu this. I am not cold. Last night I slept in your father's room. Want permission first to you, but do not want to wake up," said Mr. Anwar reasoned. He looks wrong.

"Ohhh. Actually last night I also wanted to offer Njengan to sleep in the room only Father. But given the circumstances of the death of Mr. yesterday I think Njengan not pleased," continued Wildan.

"There's nothing to be afraid of Dan. Oh yeah, I'm going home first. Later that night I will be here again" said Mr. Anwar, patting Wildan on the shoulder.

"Thank you, sir. So troublesome Njenengan." Wildan bowed no longer knowing what to say. Mr. Anwar was so kind to her.

"Oh yeah, I saw nothing in the kitchen. Looks like your rice is also gone. Come to my house, we eat together. My wife must have cooked" continued Mr. Anwar.

Wildan shook his head slowly. He felt very embarrassed, and did not want to trouble Mr. Anwar more than this.

"Why? Don't worry. If you refuse my invitation, what will you eat later?" Mr. Anwar took Wildan half forcefully.

"In the backyard there's a helmet sir. I'll boil it. Besides, I'm old enough to worry about it" Wildan refused.

"To me you are still a little boy, said Mr. Anwar, looking at Wildan with his vibrating eyes.

Wildan felt like he was staring at his dead father.

Connect___