Firefields
Loss and Meeting

AFTER returning from the market, Sawitri asked for permission to return to her home first. He will follow to the fields of Jauhari after cleaning up some work at his house. When he arrived, he immediately went to take a shower. The sweat on his body was already itchy.

Water from the bathroom still continues to flow through a small hole that leads to a trench behind the house. Sawitri felt his body refreshed after getting a hot water flush. If there should be something she likes most, then it is a shower.

In the cold water, Sawitri remembered having forgotten something, he rushed to finish his bath and headed towards the side yard of the house through the kitchen door.

Sawitri never thought about the benefits of clove trees in the yard of his house. He thought he would give it to anyone who would harvest it. But time gives us another option.

Although there are only five trees, the results of the sale of clove flowers are enough to meet the needs that cannot rely on the salary as a teacher and his tenure in school.

When free, Sawitri harvest the cloves themselves. Many valuable lessons are also harvested during the stay in a transmigrant environment.

Life is not about how much land you own, but how to survive when in a foreign area, away from the land of birth, away from memories.

Although he knew he was not a transmigrant, deep down, he experienced the same thing. It was like in the darkness of the night, stranded on a foreign island, when it first opened its eyes the next day, the morning sun slapped its eyes to suck the consciousness to always be prepared.

While tiptoeing Sawitri grabbed a slap filled with cloves that began to dry. He brought it into the house and collected it into one with a sack of cloves that smelled the whole room.

After her work was done, she sat down at the desk and continued writing letters to be sent to her parents.

I have another story, Mom. Continuing my story in the previous letter, about the dangers that lurked the village where I slowly began to be seen. There are people who want to master clove cultivation. 

The price of cloves is now starting to be unstable, many residents began to panic about the situation. But I don't need to worry, the danger won't hurt your son. 

As much as possible I will try to keep the school running well. Give my regards to my father and brothers. 

Sawitri folded the paper and put it in an envelope. Tomorrow is Monday. The Postman will come to the village to deliver and retrieve the letter in the post box which is right in front of the school.

Sawitri always sent letters to her parents in Bali. He even asked his parents not to insert money on the sidelines of a reply letter.

Sawitri knew the money was needed by her parents there.

Although from an unable family, Sawitri could not help but cry when remembering how her parents slammed bones selling tofu and tempe in the market so that her children could still go to school.

Sawitri does not want to dissolve in memories. His stomach was hungry too. Just now Sawitri wanted to get ready to go cooking, sounding rowdy from his doorstep. Many times the sound of knocking on the door was heard. Sawitri rushed to tidy up her clothes and opened the door.

"Sorry interfering. Did you see Patra or come down here?" wijan told Sawitri with a few questions.

"Aren't you with me on the market?” palak Sawitri.

After a long explanation, Sawitri finally stopped her hunger and joined Wijan to Jauhari's house again.

Arriving there, Princess and Zian explained as Patra broke away. They followed when Patra stopped at the doll shop. However, after that Patra walked again like he wanted to avoid them.

“Maybe he stopped at his friend's house,” Jauhari replied easing the panic of Wijan and his wife who were still traumatized by the incident some time ago.

“Hopefully he is fine,” hope Wijan.

“We'll wait until the afternoon. We better get ready for the fields, the villagers must have started to arrive. Who knew Patra was there now?” jauhari asked Wijan to prepare all the needs.

Although there is still something stuck, they finally follow Jauhari's advice and get ready to go to the field to jointly make a clove storage warehouse.

***

Sapri CS is still in Pelaihari market. Since then they seem busy choosing the soccer uniforms they will wear during the game later. While they choose uniforms, Sapri is like knowing someone who is selling in the market.

Sapri's vision was not wrong, that person was Sabran.

“How to pay later?” ask Ikbal if Sapri is leaving.

“I'm just leaving for a minute. You notice the guy,” point Sapri.

Ikbal also watched the person across the street. “That's Sabran!” peekik Ikbal's.

“I'm there first!” Sapri soon leaves his friends to come to Sabran who is not yet aware of his presence.

“How many buckets, Sir?” sapri asked among the people who were busy owning Sabran's bucket of sales.

“Cheap, only five thousand rupiahs. Anti-breakage origin do not slam, warranty for a week,” replied Sabran and immediately surprised after realizing who just asked the price of the bucket.

“Sapri?”

The owner of the name just smiled. Sabran then suddenly nervous and immediately asked Sapri to come closer.

“You want to buy what came all the way to Pelaihari market?” sabran asked as Sapri was already beside him.

“You buy the ball uniform. My friends are there. How do you sell buckets now? Villagers continue to look for the father in recent days,” Sahut Sapri tells that Sabran disappeared like swallowed by the earth.

“I'm sick of Yudha's cruelty. So, mending left the village and trading buckets now. It feels quieter!”

“Lantas how about Pak Jauhari and Mat Yusi who still looking for you?”

“It is better that they do not need to know. I'm asking you please don't tell me that you met me here,” Sabran's pint while inserting money into Sapri's pouch.

Realizing that, Sapri then checked the contents of his pocket. “We are tenths, where is enough to buy meatballs if this way!” said Sapri showing the money given by Sabran while smiling cunningly.

“Emberku just sold three, Sapri. Don't blackmail me!”

“Ya, already.Save the money,” said Sapri returned the money given Sabran.

“You just save it!” force Sabran.

“Not enough,” replied Sapri still refused.

Sabran snorted in annoyance. “Nih, I added,” Sabran said taking a money sheet in his pants pocket.

“Well, if this is enough even though it is still less if you buy meatballs,”, Sapri said he felt that Sabran's gift was still not enough.

“Then this?” Sabran held out another few pieces of money.

“That's enough. Take it easy, I will not tell Pak Jauhari and Mat Yusi if I meet you here,” Sapri said in return for the money he received. “So, this money remains halal and sincere, right?” ask Sapri.

“As far as you are. Remember, do not just Jauhari and Mat Yusi, but villagers do not anyone know that I sell here.”

“Mmm, if I can guarantee it. The problem is, there could be some among them who go to this market. The distance is not too far either. So, you yourself must be careful if you do not want to meet them,” suggested Sapri.

“It is better too. If anyone knows, my money can be used up just for shut-up services like now,” Simbal like not willing.

“Oh, so. So, not sincere. Here, I return all,” Sapri pretended to sulk.

“Ehhh, no. I mean, if this one's already gone. I'm Ihklas gave it to you. Take your friends out to eat meatballs!” sahut Sabran was wrong.

“Then, happy selling. May the bucket sell well,” replied Sapri leaving Sabran scratching his head.