RUSTING BOAT
Chapters. 34

Since an hour ago the wind was blowing strong carrying boisterous coconut leaves in front of my house break the silence of the night. Occasionally the sound of thunder did not want to lose also shouted adding to the boisterous tonight.

Water spots in the sky began to fall one by one on the roof of the house. My lips opened after I had gathered together, ready to pour out hundreds of insults to the figure of the man who was now present in my room. The man who had been playing with a thin rectangular object in his hand without caring about my whereabouts.

Several times I exhaled, trying to hold back the anger that started burning my chest. A feeling of distress began to envelop my heart. How could she have decided to spend the night sleeping in my room. Jeez... Where's the brain?

Not to mention my annoyance grew when I remembered the incident when we walked towards the porch of the house.

Amidst the tension of myself facing the sudden appearance of Mas Haris, the man whispered words that successfully made me burn from ear to face.

" If I were not tired, of course I would accompany my wife to entertain her lover. One thing you have to remember. Don't give him too much hope if the edges will make him fall more sick. Soon he will finally know about our status. And when it did, I was sure his heart would bleed - blood. " So Shafrie whispered as the man who would become my future priest approached.

Hundreds of times I said the word istighfar. Maybe over a hundred or maybe a thousand times I asked to be described in the face of Syafrie.

In every breath I may have asked the Owner of Destiny a thousand times to give me hundreds or millions of words of apology for having been rude to my husband.

But apparently to kill anger in the chest is not easy. Especially when I remember the hand of Mas Haris who introduced himself to Syafrie, but with his arrogance he passed without looking at my man for a bit.

May Brother Mansyah not hate me more because now my respect for his favorite brother-in-law is like dust blown by the wind.

" Don't look at me like that, I'm afraid my body will split in two. " He took his eyes off his hape a glance then again focused on staring at the black flat rectangular object.

I squinted my eyes trying to hold back the emotions that were starting to flare up in my chest. " Who would let you sleep here? "

The movement of his hand stopped fiddling with the rectangular-shaped and glowing object in his hand.

She looked up and smiled sweetly at me. " Okay, I'll sleep with your girlfriend. " He then moved up.

"Don't blame my lips, because after spending a week sleeping in the same room with you, a little bit of contracting can be nasty to your tongue. Just a little worried that the poison on the tip of my tongue finally told me about my marriage last week."

His hand was holding the door handle. " My marriage was to a stubborn woman who had returned from her ridiculous escape a while ago. " There was a shiver of anger in his tone.

" suckers..! You're threatening me, huh?"

I jumped ready to hit him. My eyes almost popped out. Both of my hands clenched as it held back furiously. I paid no more attention to the loud bang from the wind-blown window. I forgot to lock the window.

" Stts.. Don't shout out loud, Asthma. You don't want to, do you. Your boyfriend woke up and found out we were both roommates sleeping? Could hang him. " The father of the boy named Fadil put the tip of his index finger on my lips.

He shook his head slowly. " And don't repeat calling me a jerk. By Allah, the great sin of the law calls the husband that way, Asthma" he said.

A cold chill crept into my room because the window in my room was completely open by the wind. The anger that had been stirring in my heart was now extinguished. Replacing the shame that slapped me. Grand sins? Have I really sinned?

I moved slowly, as much as possible not to attract the attention of the man who was now turning his back on me. It's like he's sulking and I don't know what's wrong with me.

I chose to be quiet so that there would be no conversation between us. Let's just say, I like it this way. If I can get back to town with Mas Haris.

" Asthma.. " Syafrie suddenly turned to face me, leaving me in shock.

" Hm? " I was lazy to respond.

" What made you survive in this village? " Syafrie is now sitting cross-legged facing me.

" Nothing. " I fixed the location of my slightly tilted headscarf. To be honest I was a little sultry wearing a hijab in my room. But how else, that guy threatened me if he wouldn't let him sleep in this room.

There was a glint of wound in his eye. "What if I tell you the truth?"

" I still won't stay."

" Even though what I told you a few days ago is true."

My forehead was crinkling trying to remember - remember what important thing the man had told me a few days ago. " Everything you say is a lie." I wrote.

" What if it's true that someone's body is flowing both of our blood."

"I don't believe."

" Fadil our son."

" He's your son with that woman, not my son. Stop telling lies to hold me back. The day after tomorrow I'll go with Mas Haris."

It hurts when the yafrie blocks my wrist hard. "By Allah, by Muhammad and by the Qur'an as my book, I swear, Asma. Fadil is our son. He was born from your womb. So I beg you one more time..for Fadil's sake, don't leave us again."

Hah, I hate the thunder that strikes right in my heart. Is Fadil really my son??

It's bullshit! My heart and brain laughed out loud laughing at Syafrie's despair. He thought that by carrying the name of God, I would believe him. He drowned in the Red Sea with Pharaoh. Basic liar.

How could I possibly believe it. I can't possibly lose my memory. I never forgot or didn't have amnesia. I was depressed and almost crazy. But I never forget that I gave birth to a son and they buried him right under the coconut tree next to my house.

Then, if I've never had amnesia or a concussion, why is there never a single piece of my memory of Fadil?

For this one question I am sure Syafrie does not have the answer because I am sure, this is all a masterpiece of his lies just to try to keep me from staying in this village.

My wry smile was painted, for the sake of remembering the mistakes he had made in the past. The smile grew even more sour when I remembered the incident where I begged the man to leave his armour with the gift of hundreds of pairs of eyes that looked pity or who scorned me ten years ago.

And now that I've gone through millions of things disappointed because of him, the man is casually back expecting the love he once had - step on without feeling, she said.

It gets even stranger because he used dirty ways to make me repeat the romance of our marriage. Hah, sorry - sorry. But I can't. I don't want to anymore even if he's on his knees begging me.

Because, the fact of a petition no longer has meaning if we already know how hurt due to a betrayed promise. So hurt.

Then now he's using Fadil to snare me. Oh my God, where's the brain? She wanted to create confusion about my pregnancy. If innocence prays evil for someone, then I want him to die alone or disappear from my presence at this time. I don't know why my lips are so itchy to say it.

As I recall, during Fajri's pregnancy, I never had any problems. Even if there is only a problem of cravings. Indeed my cravings phase is very long, even until the end of the third trimester. And according to the midwife who used to check my pregnancy, it was something that sometimes happens to pregnant women due to the hormones that are innate to pregnancy.

During my pregnancy, my condition was normal - normal. No complaints, no pain and no such thing as morning sickness.

Fajri my son is a strong boy. But unfortunately, God took it. Perhaps it was a rebuke of God for my negligence in maintaining my pregnancy. God gave me no chance to be a good mother to my children.

Once upon a time, Syafrie took me to the only obstetrician in my place to check my uterus. He wanted to check the sex of the child in my womb. The young doctor, who had the title SpOG behind his name, said that our son was a boy. My body is in good health - just healthy. So he only prescribes vitamins - vitamins to nourish our baby and also folic acid which he said to help our baby's brain growth.

Of all my memories I have gathered, none of those parts relate to the story of Fadil's whereabouts there? There ain't? Should I trust Syafrie? Too stupid to believe.

I admit for a moment that Syafrie had made the red liquid in my body drained. But it was only for a moment. I'm sorry, but I'm not the Asthma I was ten years ago. I will no longer easily believe everything Syafrie says.

I went back to being calm while folding my hands in front of my chest. " What title do you want? "

" You think I made up a story? he looked quickly with an expression of disbelief. The man frowned, there was no handsome - his handsome at all. He then thought for a moment. " Wait, maybe this will convince you! " the man said as he got up to the cupboard behind the bed.

I looked at him, watching what he was doing. " Any, where do I keep it? As I recall I kept it here. "he muttered to himself as his hands were busy searching - looking for something in the three-door closet.under the shelf and in the drawer - the drawer.

Three minutes passed, but he had not found what he was looking for. He started to growl. " Athaghfirullah...! Where the..? Where did I put it? " He's starting to look frustrated.

In my vision, he wasn't looking for anything but had ransacked a whole closet. Just look at his clothes and Fadil's on the floor.

" Awwaahh...! Who keeps razor here! " The man fell in shock as he shook his hand. Blood dripped from his fingertips, falling dripping down on the ceramic floor of this room. Kapoks! I swear it in my heart.

" Smuck, fool! "

" What? " He was still shaking - shaking his hand. But not looking in pain, maybe just feeling uncomfortable. His blood drops fell everywhere.

" Your head! " i said without any intention of helping.

" huh? "Now he wraps his fingers with a piece of cloth that he finds, probably intending to inhibit the blood from coming out. Maybe the razor that hit his finger is still new so that the wound on his finger is quite deep. The proof even though it was wrapped in cloth, blood still seeped from between the fingers. " Which head? " he asked a little confused.

" Basic crazy. Of course your fingers are sucked. "my orders. I've heard that by sucking the wound the blood will stop flowing. I'm just suggesting. Without any intention of helping.

" It's okay - what. These wounds will not take lives" he said.

It's up to you, Syafrie. Whatever..! bathinku.

" well, meet. Asthma. " He held an object in his hand that glimpsed past like a bracelet.

My forehead shriveled as Syafrie's unharmed hand placed the thing on my palm. " Identity bracelet? " my words don't understand when I see that.

" Fadil's" said the man. My head slightly lowered to notice the initials of the hospital abbreviation on the bracelet. As I remember it, it was the local hospital where I gave birth to Fajri. There is a date barcode similar to Fajri's date of birth, as well as the male gender. The color of the bracelet had already started to fade that sign had been very long.

Back my head was raised, asking Syafrie for an explanation of all this.

" Look at the name of the baby's mother written on it. Read it! " appoint it on the large inscription on the bracelet. There was a happy twinkle visible in his eye ripples.

By Allah and the creation of the universe. For the sake of the mother who gave birth to me into this world. My breath stopped immediately. My soul is lost no longer in my body. My feelings were suddenly empty. I don't know why, there's a taste I can't mention. The feeling that made my heart suddenly go numb.

Finally, the shaken feeling that I had experienced ten years ago again happened and unfortunately Syafrie Lah who returned to be the cause.