FIZAH (Female Kolong Garbage)
PART 169 "Special Fried Rice"

*Tsaniya Tabriz

I had trouble bathing, especially when I took my clothes off. Also when wearing clothes. Ummik sometimes forces me to help me fear I can't. In fact, there was only one wound on the upper arm of my right hand. But, it really hindered my work speed. My activities are becoming slower. For a while, I used my left hand to hold and take anything. Through this accidental accident, I need to be more careful. Abah and ummik also advised me or ummik should not go out pesantren if there are no men who accompany. At least there must be a brother, Mr. Nizam, Kang Bimo, or other male administrators who are proficient in martial arts.

This morning, I spent two juz in one sitting. Last night I memorized a page before going to bed. So far there are no internal problems that hold me back. If anything, it's because it's about Mr. Su's problem and the marriage I'm going to face. I am very grateful because on top of the problems I think, it all does not interfere too much with my smooth memorization and murajaah.

After brother and sister Ulya come home later, two families will gather to discuss the wedding date and all the preparations. Including what kind of marriage I want. After returning the Koran in my room, I joined with Mbak Ufi and other students who helped with cooking. Although my hands hurt, but I seem to be less tasteful food menu cooked by Mbak Ufi, ummik choice menu. I chose to make a special spicy fried rice with a sprinkling of shrimp.

"Why what?"

"Where's the shelled broom? Leaving?"

"There's in the fridge. I'll get it for a second."

"May I, Ma'am Uf." I-i refused. Taken myself. But, the chili I need is less.

I took thirty cayenne pepper.

"Sir, ask you to please take everything down, yes."

Ufi has turned. Leaving his other job. He did it fast, only ten minutes at a time. In the kitchen, he is an expert. Peek the seasoning without being sliced even he can.

Fifteen minutes passed. Tasted. I'm mangosteen. I think the spiciness is very fitting. I asked again Madam Ufi to pour it into the bowl. I told him to put it on two plates.

"Who's the only one for?"

"There is."

I added crackers and chili powder. Special fried rice is ready to be served. I stared at the rice with a smile. I imagine the expression that eats it would be very funny. I'm out for a second. Looking up, is there santri putra who looks unemployed.

"Kang?" I wave.

The little Santri approached me.

"Kang, take the rice in the tray."

But, the santri looked confused to want to pass. She hesitated because there were two women in the kitchen. Reluctant. Ufi brother who realized that, he rose up to give his tray to the son santri earlier.

I whispered, "Kang, give it to Mr. Nizam, yes. Tell me this is from me."

He's nodding.

I'm watching him from here. I will monitor what will happen after he eats my fried rice. I can't wait. With that much chili, I think it's been very spicy. Not to mention the chili powder I added on it. I myself will just try the sensation of eating the bike. I stood up while holding my head. Santri gave it to him. He pointed towards the kitchen. So did Mr. Nizam immediately look here. Santri was gone.

I saw Mr. Nizam looking at my fried rice. Observe like people are judging something. My eyes are not my eyesight. I could see clearly he was quite enthusiastic even though he had not eaten it yet. He took his clothes first. Then he ate it too. One spoon in there was no reaction as I expected. Maybe he likes it too? Not as expected. He scoops it again and again. Very slow even though I saw it getting hotter. Surprisingly, he still spent it. I deliberately did not provide a drink so that he was confused. Funny then. I'm content. He looked to the left side with no water. But, he continued while holding back the red face expression. The sensation must have been like that burning person. Then, he walked half-run towards the kitchen. The rice was soaked that it was not left. As soon as I saw her up close, even she spoke up to the point of trouble. Many times I have heard him thump.

"I'm asking for water." He's holding that spicy. The sweat on his forehead began to slide slowly. Cleave again. His voice sounded more dragging. And, I forgot that she's a qori who might be abstaining from too spicy food. But I'm still satisfied. I want to show you a laugh in front of him.

I got him a big glass of water after taking the tray out of his hand. Added something. I don't know why all of a sudden today I had an idea to work on it like this. And, I'm very satisfied if this mischief of mine is successful.

"It." I showed you my flat expression.

I'm lip smacking. A little bit of a look away. Worried that my laughter will come off when he has drunk the water. Truth be told, I couldn't hold back my laughter. Along with him spewing out the water that I added a teaspoon of salt, I was petted. And, she looked at me annoyed. Between being upset and wanting to repay my actions. But, as soon as a smile poked at the corner of his lips. I threw away my gaze. Smiling is weird.

"Thank you, yeah." He returned the glass.

"Your fried rice is so good that my face looks like this."

Hide my smile. I left without excuse.

Ufi and Nuansa looked at me. Says ciee in unison. I'm glaring.

"Oit, oit, you've got the nerve to do this." Replace the laughing ones.

"Ufi's sister, look out I said Yaz."

Ufi was immediately embarrassed. She covered her face with a veil.

"Who am I?" Mbak Nuans melas.

Me and Ma'am Ufi simultaneously said, "Sama Kang Bimo."

We are straight looking. And laugh together.

"Kang Bimo recommended a flue" I said.

"Ih, Kang Bimo has that look on his face."

"Not wrong. He's the one who has the mandate of the police" said Mbak Ufi.

"I'm ready to fight." Ufi's mother joked.

"Don't just joke, Ma'am. Just direct gas." I became a stove.

I'm berwudu. I took my Koran. I want to talk again. I move into the living room. I opened the window curtains. I heard people teach in the minutes after. Low tones on taawuz and basmalah. I'm looking for the origin of the sound. The source sounds from the son santri's room. Who else if not Mr. Nizam. Santri son who is good at grooming was no one who can lie under his eyes. He's qari national.

A few minutes I screamed. I'm not calm. Can't focus on reciting the verses I said last night. My listener is centered on what I hear. Even though I had closed, covered my ears, that shrill voice still broke through forcefully. I paused for a moment. But, as I recall, her voice was not as beautiful as when I heard her at her house. Is it possible that the spiciness of my fried rice made the sound problem? Never mind. I keep working on it. When else can I do this. Besides yesterday he used to joke around with me. Yes, this is the reply. Then, in the end I did not become strident until he finished one maqrak.

Come Kang Bimo. He said hello until it surprised me.

"What's up, Kang?"

"There's a deposit, Ning."

"Breakfast from?"

"Monggo just read it."

I looked at him full of sight. "Thank you."

Just a piece of paper.

My voice was dragging. You have to take responsibility. Nowow.

"Kok even asked for responsibility, anyway," I grumbled. "No. I don't want to. It's just a drag sound anyway. I can also enjoy it again. Let it. I don't want to reply to the letter. Just talking directly even letters."

Tonight's an episode first, ngggeh.. Happy reading. Nyantai doeloeee episode.... 😁🤭😇🙏