SANTRIKU STREET
part 18 HIS KINDNESS

Pov dalari

"Know this, Mom. Nasrul so melow like this, do not-don't let the habit like this" I replied with a smile.

"Superficial, I want to go to the bathroom, she screams, mangilin," he replied, showing a serious face, making Nasrul's face blush in shame.

The three of us couldn't help but laugh, when we saw Nasrul's face change, which was flushed red. But hurriedly the laughter was closed with hands, so that the sound of laughter could not be heard.

"Laughter don't be loud, later, Mother Sister is angry again" I said while squinting at Heru and Nawir.

"I think you guys, really cool," asked Nasrul's mother, sitting on a chair beside the bed.

"Yes, ma'am, if we talk, from start to finish, it must not stop laughing" Nasrul explained, laying his body on the bed.

"Yes you guys. nginep just here, nih!. mother has bought a lot of snacks, make your friends chat" asked Ms. Nasrul, while putting her plastic groceries, on the bed. made our eyes wide open, seeing that much groceries.

"Well, steady," I said, while opening the plastic, but before I reached my hand was mashed by Heru.

"You'll go home, don't stay here!, so you're not parted, this is the part that wants to step," prevent Heru, while smiling sideways at me.

"Kok, home?" asked Nasrul's mother, looking in wonder at me.

"Yes, Mom. Dalari is a janitor at school, so he has to go home. Because tomorrow he has to work" Nasrul explained, staring at his mother.

"O Allah, you are very diligent" said Nasrul's mother, full of admiration.

"Not diligent, ma'am, but needy" I replied timidly, bowing my head.

"Great you!, who would you like to go home with?" asked Nasrul's mother, staring at me.

"Alone, Mom. Heru and Nawir, they want to stay here."

"Emang you are brave, go home alone.where menggelewatin mountain again" said Ms. Nasrul, seen the look on her face, showing concern.

"Dare, ma'am, fear" I replied, holding my head up. Although it was actually a little horrified to pass through the mountain alone.

"If you don't like it, you don't go home first. later on Mang Badru deliver rice here, you can come home with him, ride the motorbike." explained Ms. Nasrul.

"That's no trouble, ma'am."

"No, it's, later the mother who pays the motorcycle, the motorcycle Lagian, the motorcycle has a mother" explained Ms. Nasrul.

"Gee, thank you so much, ma'am," my eyes, glazed over.

"Don't say thank you, mother who should be thanking you, because you all already care about the mother's child" replied Ms. Nasrul, smiling on her face, amazed at our friendship.

"Yes, you eat the snacks, later when it runs out, I buy again" Nasrul's mother ordered, making our eyes sparkle, staring at the food in plastic.

The four of us continued the conversation that had been delayed, accompanied by snacks that I had never eaten. Because let alone for snacks like this, make eating dishes a difficult.  the mindset that has been rooted in my brain rather than buying snacks, mending buying side dishes, because it is filling.

Nasrul's mother, however, laid her body on an empty, unfilled patient bed. Usually on Sundays patients rarely seek treatment, because the doctors puskesmas on holidays, they do not go to work. The patients do not want to wait to stay at the puskesmas.

Asik chat until several times the nurse reprimanded because the four of us are too noisy, but we continue to repeat it again, even though it has been reminded several times. Luckily in the room we live in, it's empty. Not afraid to disturb others.

The chat was stopped after the dzuhur prayer reverberated, The three of us said goodbye to the Puskesmas mosque, to perform the prayer.finished the prayers of the three of us were back in the confinement, there were some bowls of meatballs, there were some bowls of meatballs, there were several bowls, who greeted the three of us, a distinctive smell filled our noses.

"You eat meatballs first!" exclaimed Mother Nasrul, while pointing towards the meatballs It was stored.

"Well, it's a hassle, ma'am, but we're still full" Nasrul replied with a shy smile.

"Udah, don't say much, just eat" said Mother Nasrul, who was familiar with Heru, because their house was neighborhood.

"A week gini continues, we can go home crawling, dragging the stomach" said Nawir, while bribing the meatballs into his mouth.

"Yes, you are sick just keep Rul, let our food be guaranteed, as a good friend, I am ready to accompany you here" Timpal Heru, glancing at Nasrul, said, who was eating meatballs on the bed.

"Eh, insolent!, you ru" Nasrul sneered, with a sour face.

Nasrul's mother saw the behavior of the four of us, only shaking their heads with a smile, but not chiming in.

Uhuk!!

Uhuk!!!

"Nawir coughed with a choked cough, holding back laughter, thus making his eyes look red, due to the effect of the meatballs filled with sambal.

"Eat him, if you eat not while talking" said I, while bringing drinking water closer, towards nawir.

He just rounded his red eyes, looked at me, disagreeing with what I said.

"Who is talking, I have been quiet" said Nawir, after drinking a few sips.

The four of us, refocused, ate each other's food because it was a very rare food, so we had to enjoy it. It was only in a sub-district like this, if in villages like where we live. this meatball only appears once a year.it is also at the festival of Samenan or the festival of class.

After the meatballs are over. After the gravy, leaving only the bowl, even if the merchant wants to be dirty, he does not have to wash it. The four of us chatted back, just like before praying dzuhur.chat chat that made us laugh freely.

Trok!!!

Trok!!!

Trok!!!

The door of the Puskesmas room was knocked, then there was a person who said greetings, Mother Nasrul also rose from her bed, then she swiftly opened the door.

After the door opened, saw Mr. Chandra standing in the doorway, Nasrul's mother quickly, allowed him to enter, then the three of us quickly approached Mr. Chandra, kissed the back of his hand, and then, it's adab or ethics when meeting with a teacher. Although kissing the hands of people we respect is not in the sunna, but it is a very good culture, to be maintained.

"When you come here, dal." asked Mr. Chandra, when he saw me in the middle of them.

"So, morning sir." I replied, bowing my head not daring to look at him.

Mr. Chandra immediately approached Nasrul, who was still lying on the Puskesmas bed.

"How are you" asked Mr. Chandra as he turned to me.

"Nasrul!, sir." My answer, who understood what Mr. Chandra meant turned to me, surely he would not know his name, because Nasrul was a new student. They have not met in the subjects.

"Yes, Rul. how are you" Mr. Candra repeated his question as he stared at Nasrul.

"Alhamdulillah, Sir. It's better, just wait for the healing of the wound" Nasrul replied, staring at his bandaged feet.

"Thank God, then, may you recover quickly" said Mr. Candra, while putting his luggage near Nasrul.

"What is this sir ?" asked Nasrul's mother, with a curious look on her face.

"It's nothing, it's just a cake" replied Mr. Chandra with a smile towards Ms. Nasrul.

"Well, even though we did not bother, we were already happy" explained Ms. Nasrul, while tidying up the gift from Mr. Chandra.

Finally, Mr. Chandra and Nasrul's mother dissolved in the conversation. The chatter of parents of students with their children's teachers.the discussion is not far about Nasrul, which is again hit by disaster. And in essence Mr. Candra represented as a school party, apologizing for his negligence so that the fateful incident happened to Nasrul, while Nasrul's mother, wisely did not mind, because according to him, no one wanted an accident, and we cannot refuse his arrival.