Love The Bule
The Enchantment of Jhon

“Assalamualaikum.”

“Waalaikumusalam.” Hasna came out of the kitchen to greet the guest who had just said hello.

“Nyai.”

“Na.”

Fatimah, the mother of Al and Randi came with a cake that was quite a lot for the forty-day event Uthman to be held in the mosque of the cottage after congregational prayer.

Fatimah and Hasna have a big age difference. Fatimah was five years older than Hasna, while with Uthman, Hasna was eight years younger. Hasna simple girl from a simple family who just finished aliyah, arrived – arrived asked by Uthman who is a distinguished family. Hasna also refused. After all, who could resist the charm of Uthman, a pretty handsome, sholeh, well mannered man, and an LC graduate. It was precisely Hasna who did not suspect at all, that Uthman had always put his heart on him, even though at that time their relationship was only a teacher and student. Uthman became the Arabic teacher of a real teacher who was performing the Hajj and had to leave for more than forty days.

“Yeah, Nyai. Ndak not bother – bothered,” said Hasna by receiving a hand from Fatimah which is not only a cake, but also – fruits.

“Put where is this, Nyai?” ask the driver Fatimah who came with him and brought fruit berpeti – crates.

“Put where is this, Na?” Fatimah asked Hasna.

“Directly under the kitchen ake,” replied Hasna by pointing to the recycling using her mother jinya.

The driver of Fatimah nodded. He paced back and forth to drop off the luggage from inside Hasna's white Paj*ro car.

Unlike Hasna, Fatimah was born from a rich and distinguished family from the city next door. Fatimah also attended college, although not a graduate from Cairo like Uthman and his summit, Mustofa.

Uthman also married first to Mustofa, so Abid, Uthman's first child and Hasna was three years older than Al.

“Ndak. It's not troublesome at all, Na. We are like brothers. I have also considered you like my sister,” said Fatimah while embracing Hasna.

“Thank you, Nyai.”

“Ck. If the two are like this, just call me, Ma'am,” replied Fatimah as she pulled up the dining table chair and sat there.

Hasna smile. Then, offer a drink. “I make you drink first yo, Ma'am.”

Fatimah nodded while circulating her gaze. “Where to?”

“Bira and Arafah are at Munah's house. They are making luggage for the students who attend later tonight.”

Fatimah nodded. “Oh, so.”

“Mbak will be here until the event is over right?” ask Hasna.

“Iya dong, Na. I kn also want to help you.”

Hasna smiled and nodded.

It's getting late. Before Maghrib, the mosque used talaqqi led by Ustadz Abdullah. There are about seven students who take part in the program that is carried out every Monday and Thursday, including one outsider who is not a santri, namely Jhon.

“Jhon. Now it's your turn,” Utadz Abdullah said.

Jhon. He approached Ustadz Abdullah and sat cross-legged facing the humble middle-aged man.

This time, Ustad Abdullah asked Jhon to chant the letter Al – mulk. For the eighth meeting this time, Utadz Abdullah has just given a more difficult task than before, because previously he still asked Jhon to memorize and chant a letter with a short verse in the thirty juz, of course, using a tone like the tone of the imam of the Madinah mosque.

“Ekhem.” John cleared his throat and began talaqqi by uttering taawuz and basamalah.

Jhon's voice sounded melodious.

“Allazi khalaqal-mauta wal-saita liyabluwakum ayyukum asanu ‘amala, wa huwal-‘azizul-gafur.”

Jhon continued to chant the verse melodiously and mendayu. The tone he was singing was similar to what Abdullah had taught. If at a glance hear the voice of this John, no one thought that the one who chanted him was a bule.

“Ning Bira, said Nyai sembako – sembako who has been packed directly brought to the mosque,” Munah told Bira and Arafah who are still at his home.

“Ya already, we just transport it directly. Come!” said Arafah who was directly influenced by Tina.

Munah immediately asked her husband and sent the santri to help, while Arafah, Tina, and Munah only helped the part that was not too heavy.

“Dek, the rest we bring alone, yuk!” take Arafah to his sister.

Tina nodded. From earlier, he listened to the voice of a man chanting ayat al – mulk letter from behind the mosque loudspeaker which can be heard from the house of Munah.

Usually, Abdullah did not use the loudspeakers of the mosque when the talaqqi took place, but today he used it, because the time was about to approach the maghrib and to enliven the time, Abdullah also used the loudspeaker.

“Mbak, whose voice is this?” tina asked as she walked towards the mosque carrying the rest of the items that had to be placed there.

Arafah held his shoulder. “Ngga know, Mbak also new denger.”

“That's a big voice, Ma'am,” said Tina again.

Arafah nodded, agreeing with his sister's statement.

Getting closer to the mosque, Tina was made gaping, because someone who was sitting in front of Utadsz Abdullah and holding the mosque loudspeaker was Jhon.

Arafah who saw that immediately stopped his steps. “God willing, it turns out that voice belongs to your boss.”

Tina can't say – words. He looked in that direction from a distance. His lips were mute, there were only eyes staring in that direction with a heart dag dig dug.

Jhon reawakens his fascination with Tina. If in the past, Tina was fascinated by the figure of Jhon who became the leader in his division and was able to solve all the problems that exist with his intelligence, now Tina was fascinated by the change of John. He did not expect that the melodious and beautiful voice belonged to an annoying perverted man and had wasted – nyiannya.

“Hei. Hayo, don't be watched!” Arafah nudged the elbow of Tina's arm, making Tina realize and averted her eyes.

“Si bule it's getting handsome ya.”

“Ish, what the hell.” Tina diverted her sister's words by taking her back to walk.

“Dek, I agree that you are with him. Ummi also agrees.”

Tina turned her head towards the older brother while still walking towards the corner of the mosque. “But Mas Abid, how?”

Tina and Arafah arrived at a place that had been stacked with goodi bags made of materials for the students who attended the event later. They also put the items they brought along with the pile.

“Mas Abid is not as hard as you might imagine, Deck. Mbak sure, he will also agree.”

Tina smiled at the statement of her sister.

“Again, Mas Abid and your boss are familiar now. Indeed you never see, if in the project, they always talk together.”

Tina nodded. Yes, he had indeed seen the scene, he also hoped this time the relationship and Jhon would be made easier.