REPLYING TO MY HUSBAND'S MISTRESS
Chapters 2.

By riding her bike Sarah went around looking for food that was enough with her husband's standards. Several times he had found a breakfast seller who had started arranging his wares, but he remembered Bima was not a lover of food with such a minimalist portion, he said, during the household Sarah knew it was true that the portion of her husband's meal was more or less the same as the portion of porters.

"Well, there's a fried rice man" Sarah murmured as she looked at the fried rice wagon that was still open.

Sarah turned her motorbike near the cart and it appeared that the seller was asleep at the table she provided for customers.

"Sorry, I'm buying." Sarah slightly shook the body of the fried rice seller who sounded the smooth snoring.

After several calls while shaking his body, the seller finally woke up in shock.

"Astaghfiullah!" he screamed while scooping his face.

"Eh, uh. Want to buy Neng?" he asked while smiling clumsy with eyes still reddened typical of new people waking up.

Sarah smiled at the absurd behavior of the fried rice seller.

"Yes, Bang. Please make three packs yes, but don't worry too much."

The salesman's brother quickly stood up excitedly. "Ready, Neng. Mango sit down first, let's make it."

The brother of the seller began to mix fried rice on a special frying pan, his distinctive voice sounded so sanitary in the cold morning. The fragrant aroma of fried rice makes Sarah's stomach which has not eaten since lunch also esophagus.

"Duh, laper. Hopefully later Mas Bima eat it is not like a person possessed so there is the rest," how Sarah imagines how ordinary Bima eats.

Three packs of fried rice was in Sarah's taste will be less for him, but how else? Sarah also had to set aside money to buy cooking ingredients for tomorrow. Just in case Bima no longer gives him money.

"Kok malem-malem like this out to buy their own food, Neng? Where's husband?" chirp the Seller's brother while stirring the fried rice on the pan.

Sarah who was daydreaming while holding her stomach seemed to gasp.

"Ah, uh .. u-sleep Bang, don't want to wake up. That's why I went alone. After all, get out of the house," Sarah told a lie. Even though the seller is quite far from his home.

"So this is for eating Eneng himself? Lots of Neng," said the brother again.

Sarah who was stuck with her own answer seemed confused, because there was no way she said that her husband forced her to leave.

"Air own clock is still open?" let's say Sarah switched the conversation.

The brother of the seller began to arrange the cooked fried rice and eggs into the rice wrapping paper.

"Yes .. if I'm mah, it's from a quiet sales day, Neng. So maxain open until malem, my wife said again need money to buy skinker. Well, because I love my wife so go home early in the morning also I jabanin for the beloved wife mah, Neng."

Sarah was moved to hear the words bang fried rice seller, a simple sentence but so touching and made Sarah remember her household which was inversely proportional to what the seller said.

A fried rice seller only willingly did not go home when late only to be able to meet his wife's demand for skinker. While Bima? Let alone give more money to skinker Sarah, for the money shopping alone she was reluctant to give because Sarah was given monthly money by her parents who were already elderly. From the earnings of companies managed by Bima.

"Now, Neng. I finished the fried rice, guaranteed delicious and make the picture always the same taste," said the seller's brother kindly.

Sarah smiled and accepted the packet of fried rice. "How much is it, Bang?"

"Cheap, Neng. Three packs of just 36 grand."

Sarah smiled awkwardly and handed over a fifty-thousand piece of money to the brother.

"So soon, Neng." The salesman's brother rushed towards his wagon and pulled out a drawer that he seemed to be using to save money.

"This is the change of Neng, because Eneng buyers with the most number of purchases today, so Abangkai discounted a thousand rupiah. So the return of fifteen thousand rupiah yes, Neng."

Sarah nodded faintly and took the change and put it back in her pants pocket.

"Thank you, Bang. Then excuse me," said Sarah as she walked to her bike.

"Ready, mango Neng." The salesman's brother invited him while swinging his hand.

Sarah turned the ignition of the motor and tried to turn it on.

Silent

Many times Sarah pressed the start button but there was absolutely no reaction given the motor metiknya.

Inexhaustible, Sarah got off the bike and grabbed him.

A one-time.

He's kali.

Three times.

Until I don't know how many times Sarah tried to grip the motor until her legs felt sore and numb.

"Why, Neng? Motor's on strike?" asked the salesman's brother to run over to Sarah who was soaked in sweat.

Sarah nodded faintly. "Yes, Bang. Don't want to be turned on. Where I've been so late."

The salesman's brother looked puzzled and scratched his head in a daze.

"It's still dark like this, like no workshop is open, Neng."

Sarah almost cried because she had been gone for almost an hour, but Bima only gave her no more than half an hour. Unimaginable in the eyes of Sarah cruel what else punishment will be given to him as Bima already.

The salesman's brother accidentally saw Sarah's teary eyes, a sense of compassion in his heart. Many times he stared at Sarah and her sales cart alternately.

"If you go home first, Neng. Let the motorbike be tipped here with me, tomorrow it will be taken. Said Eneng mah deket's house, right?"

Sarah wiped away the tears that had fallen from her eyes. "No, Bang. I lied, my house is far from here."

The salesman's brother gasped and stroked his chest regretting Sarah's reckless attitude, even though not far from the fried rice seller's cart there was a cemetery location that was somewhat haunted.

But for Sarah, there is nothing more frightening than the anger of Bima. Making it so brave and reckless to cross the grave in the early hours of the morning is very vulnerable. Not only ghosts, but also ghosts.

"Let's get anther, Neng." The salesman's brother extended his hand to help Sarah get up.

Feeling no other choice, Sarah nodded in approval to the seller's proposal.

"Ta-but what kind of cart did you have? It's deserted here, loh. There is fear of a thief" said Sarah, who was suddenly worried.

The salesman's brother headed towards his money-storage drawer and picked up some not-so-much-looking sheets of money from there. Maybe that's the result of him waiting for customers until a day last night. Sarah was touched to see it, how firm the heart of the seller's brother, even though he only got a little fortune but he still served with all his heart.

"Udah is safe, Neng. Come on I anter," said the seller's brother while patting his waist bag that has been filled with money that is not how much from the drawer.

The salesman's brother turned on his old duck bike and helped Sarah ride in the bonfire.

"Read the prayer, Neng. May we survive through the grave," said the brother after the motorbike drove and almost crossed the cemetery area.

The owl's voice rang out as soon as they passed the grave, without realizing Sarah was holding tightly to the brother's shirt because of fear.

The motor continued to accelerate until they began to enter the residential area, quite far from the location of the cemetery earlier.

"Which house, Neng?" asked the brother while looking around at the houses that passed by him.

"That's Bang, that pink paint." point Sarah at her house.

The motor stopped right in front of the pink house with a minimalist style belonging to Sarah, when it came down and thanked Sarah and the seller's brother was shocked by the thunderous sound of Bima.

"Where have you been jal*ng?" snapped with a belt clasped tightly in the hand.