BROMOCORAS
Starting Point

"It's for all of you, son Salim."

That night, after praying Isya', Salim was stunned by Zaini's statement. A large map containing several sheets of important letters was thrust Zaini in front of him.

"I... What is this, sir?"

"Everything you have."

"But this is not my right, sir."

"What right, son? Satriyo?"

Salim speechless. He did not dare to say anything at the moment.

"It's not that Satriyo is dead and then you hand this over to him in exchange for Satriyo. No, Son."

Salim frowned. He really did not understand what Zaini was saying this time.

"If you speak the right, then you give up what is rightfully yours. You give up the rights to the entitled. And your job is done."

"I mean father?" Salim tried to understand what Zaini said to him.

Zaini smiled faintly.

"Do you remember who your father was?"

Salim nodded. Salim remembered how his father often told about his friendship with Zaini since they were still in Jombang and joined the student army at that time. How the two of them took part in liberating this country.

The friendship of his father and Zaini is like his friendship with Satriyo. More than that even. Many heroic stories of the two of them are often told to Salim.

"Everything you own belongs to your father, son. All your father's hard work. It's just that the family of your mother, especially your grandfather, never wanted to receive a dime of your father's labor. Therefore, your father entrusts everything he has to his father for you to submit."

Salim. Without realizing it her tears gradually began to wet her eyelids.

"There's your father's writing for you." Zaini pointed the map on the table.

Salim immediately opened the map looking for his father's letter. Sheet after sheet Salim opened until finally found an envelope that was very shabby. It says "for my son".

Salim immediately opened the contents of the envelope. There was only a piece of paper that was as shabby as the envelope. There is very neat writing. Salim memorized his father's handwriting.

"Sugihing bondho lamun siro tibo titi wancine sedo tan keno ginowo. Seagrass sugihing pakerti senajan sukmo lan rogo wus ora nyawiji, nanging would be dadi pepperang pinuju marang Gusti kang siji. (The wealth of treasure if you have arrived at your death cannot be brought. If the riches of science, though, are not one, they will be the lights of the way to the Most Exalted God)". Once the letter is in that envelope. Salim understood very well the meaning of his father writing him a letter like that.

Salim folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. Return it again to the map with a letter that Salim did not know any letters in the big map.

"Now you understand, right?" Zaini asked Salim later.

Salim nodded slowly.

"alright. For the next time I leave it to you as entitled to all this, Son Salim."

"But, Sir. Do I deserve it?"

"Give me a little explanation of what it's worth, son!"

Salim just kept quiet.

"Don't Salim know? Allah tempts the righteous. Does Nak Salim think that's inappropriate? God gives trials to those who are already in trouble. Is that inappropriate too? There is nothing inappropriate when God wills, son."

Salim could not say anything for now. He just bowed to hear all Zaini said. For Salim, Zaini is his father's successor since his father died a few years ago.

"As servants, let us not forget that God has Kun Fayakun, Son of Salim. Nui ono wujuto."

"Help me, sir. To realize my father's ideals."

Zaini patted Salim's shoulder.

"For sure, son."

Salim smiled and grabbed Zaini's hand. Repeatedly.

"It has. Now you keep all these files."

Salim tidied up the map again and brought it into the room. In the mind of Salim never imagined his father had a relic of extraordinary pants like this.

"What other pride is this, sir? It feels just being proud to have a father like father is not enough for me. Because it's more than just being proud, sir. More than that. Thank you, Sir. To all the pride of having a father like a father."

Salim's eyes once again began to dampen. Fine threads began to bathe both of his eyelids. It even now slowly flowed down both of his cheeks. Salim bowed, letting the clear grain fall on his bed.

Salim could not close his eyes overnight. Her chest feels tight. His mind far away flew through the sky of his room.

In the morning Salim said goodbye to Zaini to come out for a while. Without Salim saying anything, Zaini knew Salim's purpose. Yes, Salim would have wanted to find out who reported to the police about Satriyo's death.

Salim meets Prastowo who is busy feeding his chickens. Seeing the arrival of Salim, Prastowo immediately departed from his busy life and immediately approached Salim.

"Kang Salim must have known about the current state of the terminal?"

"That's why I met you, Pras. Do you know anything?"

"Yes, Kang. As far as the sideyan from Mr. Zaini's house at that time, friends were looking for me. They think Kang Salim is still there?"

"Who are they, Pras?"

"No exception, Kang."

"Baron, Tikno, Griwo, Suko, Galih, Benowo, Joko, Dasman, Sipur, Anggoro. They all forced me to come to the office. There they reported everything that happened that morning. Also because of that."

Salim bobble head.

Salim touched the back of Prastowo's hand. "Remember what I said before I left for Jogja at that time, Pras. Remember Mr. Zaini's message. Revenge won't solve everything."

"Honestly, my friends and I didn't think either. A Kang Salim could be this soft now"

Salim laughing. "I'm not young anymore, Pras. That's the reason."

Prastowo stared silently at Salim.

"Let me see them, Pras."

"I'm sorry, Kang. Some of them are already a lot of them are now wandering. Griwo, Sipur, Benowo now works in Kalimantan in palm oil. Just a month ago the three of them left."

Salim nodded. "Thank God, Pras then. Then the others?"

"Baron with Suko who I heard they were in Surabaya. Tikno, Joko same Galih the three of them that I heard also have been selling but where I do not know, Kang. We can ask Dasman. Meanwhile, Dasman still has no job. Anggoro too, Kang."

Salim nodded. "Well, let's go meet them later, Pras."

"Good, Kang. Yasudah Kang Salim come in first, I make coffee first."

Salim followed Prastowo towards the terrace of his house. There was a wooden trunk made into a chair. Also the same table is made of a large sengon wooden rod.

By noon Salim and Prastowo were already in a bamboo-walled house. A man of Prastowo's age walked out of the room covered only with shabby batik curtains, carrying a tray of three coffee cups that seemed to be still hot.

"No need to bother, Man." Say Salim then.

"Ah, no, Kang. Just coffee."

Shortly afterwards, the sound of a very old motorbike stopped in the yard. Someone of Prastowo's age got off that bike.

"The Salim." The man shouted as soon as he got off his bike. Walking hastily and immediately greeting Salim, Prastowo also Dasman, the host.

"Angoro, how are you?"

"As Kang Salim saw. I'm still as usual, Kang. It's just that I haven't got a job yet. Just like Kang Dasman."

Salim smiled. Then light a kretek cigarette that has been on the spin since.

Dasman walked to the back, before long he came out again carrying a glass of coffee for Anggoro.

"If there's any need for Kang Salim to bring us all together here?" Anggoro asked then after Dasman sat back down.

"What about Satriyo, Kang?" Imbuh Dasman's.

Salim smiled and smoked his cigarette. Smoke billowed thickly before him.

"So Prastowo has told me a lot about it and I can understand that, all your actions, no matter who has the idea."

Anggoro fell. Salim noticed the change in Anggoro's attitude.

"Why, Ro?" Ask Salim later.

"I'm sorry, Kang. I am the one who moves my friends. I'm scared, Kang. Afraid that after Kang Salim left, they would attack us one by one."

Salim smiled. "I'm just grateful to you, Ro. Satriyo must have calmed down there and was proud to have brothers like you. A sense of solidarity never replaced by anything."

"As sampeyan said, Kang. We are brothers. We should have done something for our brother." added Dasman.

"And isn't solidarity our weapon all along, Kang. It's appropriate that we keep the gun, right, Kang?" prastowo who was silent.

Salim again just smiled and grabbed his coffee glass followed by another.

"I want to get closer to God." Salim's sudden words instantly made his friends flinch.

Anggoro is advancing his body. "What does Kang Salim mean?" tanyanya.

Salim smiled again.

"Kang Salim wants to repent?" tanya Dasman reiterated Salim's remarks just now.

"I've troubled the people around me enough. My relatives, friends, including my wife. I think it's time for a change in me."

Anggoro, Dasman also Prastowo just bowed. Deep down they actually want to quit everything they have been doing.

"I want to continue my decades of science that I no longer touch."

Everyone looked at Salim. They know what Salim used to be.

Before taking to the streets and becoming a much feared thug. Salim and Satriyo are santri in the village next door. But because of their harsh nature, they like to play hit and often make a fuss. The cabin babysitter was overwhelmed and eventually returned them. Continuing in public school makes Salim and Satriyo increasingly become. Almost every day they make a fuss either with their schoolmates or even at other school students.

"Who among you wants to come with me?"

For a moment everyone was silent. Silent. Only their breaths clashed with each other.

"I'm with the party, Kang. I'm tired of being this kind of me." Prastowo said later.

"I'll come, Kang." Anggoro followed later. So did Dasman.

Salim smiled. It was time for them to change. Turned into a human being who is recognized humanity is another human being. Not known for being tainted, but known for the sublime virtues they spread.

From that moment on they were four friends who sought the way of truth. No matter who they used to be. No matter what the people around them say.

Armed with Zaini messages. Salim has also crossed from one Kyai to another Kyai around Java and Bali. Anggoro and Prastowo learned to teach Zaini themselves, because they could not leave the village. There are many people they cannot leave behind. Dasman himself prefers to study little by little by being active in routine studies in his village.

Seriate...