Residual Flavour
Opens the diary of Amar

Dave immediately shifted his focus to the part of the monitor screen intended by the security guard. The man watched every move closely. A few times Dave's hand stops the video by pressing pause and enlarging the look of the desired object. What Dave had in mind, was already beyond guessing. The man's face looked flat. No expressions of shock, anger, or anything else.

From the video, Dave finally followed the video with the times he thought were still interconnected. Until what he did, unknowingly it took until before Maghrib. Because of fear Agas suddenly returned home, Dave also completed his investigation this time.

"Thank you, Sir. Please keep this secret tight, only the two of us know," Dave's pinta answered a nod by the security guard.

From there, Dave picked up some personal belongings from his room and rushed to leave the house. However, at the main door Dave runs into Agas who has just come.

"Is not your father-in-law in disaster? Why don't you come see me?" ask Agas with an equally flat tone of voice and expression.

Dave returned the papa's gaze casually. "If Dave comes along, what can Dave do? Prayer from far away is enough. Dave is not an actor. A good person plays a role to get good judgment from others."

"At least, you accompany Dira. Give her encouragement and support. Surely he was very sad, the ordeal that befell his mother-too heavy for Dira," Agas asserted.

The man monitors Nina's condition remotely by hiring the services of a spy. Therefore, Agas knows for sure the current condition of Nina. However, only to the extent that Agas cares. He is not interested in doing much. It's just that, for Dira's matter, indeed she still wanted to interfere.

"It's not just Dira who has sadness and feelings. The trial doesn't just belong to him. Don't look at the sadness of others too far. What was in front of Papa's eyes right now, was also heartbroken. But of course Papa doesn't care." Dave just left Agas.

Agas stood up unmoved looking at Dave's back which was further away from his sight. "Whatever you say, Dave. Papa's business is complicated, too. Want you to be angry, disappointed, or whatever - Papa doesn't care" he murmured.

Dave himself immediately left the Agas residence by driving his vehicle a little faster. Only after exiting the housing did the man slightly reduce his foot pressure on the gas pedal. Dave took his cell phone to call someone. But unfortunately, several times the dial tone, none of which was received by the number to which it was addressed.

"I'll just go to his house" said Dave.

All that came to his mind at this moment was to want to discuss something that became his suspicion. Realizing he can't walk on his own, Dave decides to team up with someone he believes-deeply cares for Deva.

****

After work, Deva went into the room. Hesitating, he took out a paper bag that contained some of Amar's belongings that Ali had given him some time ago. The target this time is Amar's handbook while in custody.

Deva's hands stretched out hesitantly, picking up the book with the light brown recycled paper. His heart was pounding irregularly. Between curiosity and anxiety, stir into one.

"Oh my God, I'm afraid I can't read it. I was afraid, what was written there was lara and the solitude that papa felt," said Deva.

The breath was so deep and heavy, carrying Deva's hand to open the cover of the book that was now on her lap. Nothing yet, his eyes were already teary. Family photos of the three of them while on vacation to the cold city of Malang, neatly attached there. Deva is still a teenager, maybe two dozen years old.

"How are you doing there dad and mom? Are you guys really together? Deva is still trying hard here. So many good people, but the kindness of papa mama that Deva always misses." Deva looked like she was daydreaming. However, his hand began to stretch out again opening the second sheet.

No doubt, the book belongs to Amar. The ink scratches that come from the fingers of papa Deva are indeed very distinctive. Beautiful, neat, and easy to read.

...Assalamualaika the Prophet...

...Assalamualaika ya Habiballah's...

...I ignored the agitated screams...

...Not not surrender...

...I'm going to touch now...

...Fragile message...

...Wrong in wrong...

...make me paralyzed...

...I chose surrender...

...Dispose of anger...

...Oh, my God, Robb...

...I feel everything in Your embrace...

...Wishing You to melt in my sigh...

...Kubumikan naffsuku,...

...repeat your glory...

Deva read every word with all her heart. His eyes began to glaze over. He continued to be privileged in his heart, trying to strengthen his heart to open the next sheet by sheet.

Suddenly, Deva's phone vibrated so intensely. "Who the hell?" muttered while reaching for a flat object with high technology on the nightstand.

Reading the name listed on the screen of his phone, made Deva instantly lose her sense of sadness. Not out of excitement because this figure contacted him-more appropriately, he really felt irritated. I don't know how many times, the man contacted her in half a day. Distance does not make a figure that is none other than God it loosens his work.

"Why use video call shows, anyway? It's not working hours, is it still taking people?" Before receiving the call, Deva cursed first.

"Bismillah," said Deva as she swiped up the green button on her phone screen.

"Totally long ...." The direct nag greets Deva as soon as her face appears in the small box section of the bottom corner of the phone screen.

"Sir, can you protest me? it's not working hours now. After all, Mades also had guests. Tomorrow's weekend. Could it be, right, work on Monday?" cerocos Deva's.

"I want to talk to Mama, it's important. I'm calling from earlier not picked up." The face of God on the screen Deva's phone looks so fresh and clean. Apparently, the man had just finished his bath.

"And I told you that Mades has guests" Deva said.

"Just a second, Dev. Important this. It must also be just gymnastics friends, "forcibly God.

"Attent." Deva said it with a wit. After placing Amar's diary on the nightstand, Deva also stepped out of the room to the living room on the first floor.

"Dev .. who really dong if holding a mobile phone. My head's dizzy to see your camera shake mulu, which one looks like the floor doang." The voice of God is heard from the speaker of the phone. Deva doesn't care, she accidentally turns the camera settings into a rear camera.

"Where are you going, Dev?" Not yet in the living room, Deswita had greeted Deva first. Apparently, the female guest had just returned home.

"This is Mr. God's phone, Mades. Said Mr. God, from earlier Mades difficult to contact." Deva gives Deswita her phone.

The beautiful woman who was more than middle-aged was frowning while checking the cellphone that had been in her grasp.

"No incoming calls" murmured Deswita.

"Ma ... Mama ...," The God shouted sillyly. Already he guessed, surely his mother was not immediately sensitive.

"It's Mades." Deva again held out her phone which had been ignored by Deswita because she was so confused. He changed the camera settings to the front camera. Deva hoped, the speaker phone did not complain because the cry of God was so loud.

"Oh, yes Dev." Deswita hastily received the advanced object.

"Where are you?" The god seemed to blink his eyes when he said that.

Deswita is just starting to understand, she is being used as an excuse by God. When Deswita was ready to say the words that made the child die of lice. The doorbell sounds.

"Let me, Mades." Deva took the initiative so that Deswita could still focus on talking to the Gods.

Not until a matter of two minutes, the main door was opened by Deva wide. Seeing who had come, Deva could not hide her surprise. One step of his foot backwards.