The Virgin Corpse Assignment
Section 25
...THE VIRGIN CORPSE...
...Author by: David Khanz...
...Section 25...
...------- o0o---------...
Kreek!
There was a sound like a door that opened slowly. For a moment Lastri stopped his prayer reading. He began to be unable to focus and frown. Then continue to recite sacred sentences in prayer rituals while closing your eyes.
Kreek!
“Allahuakbar ...” Lastri somewhat hardened his reading during the transition of the prayer movement.
Twice the voice was heard, until the woman arrived at the end of Magrib prayer. “Assalaamu’alaikum warahmatullah .. assalaamu’alaikum warahmatullah.”
“Paakkk?” call Lastri while rising from the top of the prayer mat. Still wearing a mukena cloth, he rushed out of the room. Look around the front and middle rooms, especially the main door. There's no one. The condition of the door was still tightly closed as before. “Dian! Yayam! You guys home?” ask the woman while hunting the children's room. Blank. Basri had not yet returned from the musala. Didn't you still accompany the two kids? That voice was ....
‘Ah, why is this light flickering?’
Lastri looked up, noticing the lights on in the living room. “Yes, God! W-what is this? A-do you want to die of electricity, yes?” He wondered for himself, then immediately remembered the candle that had been left in the bathroom. Without waiting any longer hurry about to take ....
“Lho, kok ... quenched?”
The small room is in the dark. There is no candle flame at all. Though Lastri remembered once, when leaving the bathroom was still in a state of light. He retreated back between the doubt and fear that began to envelop all souls. ‘Is it blowing in the wind? Ah, it doesn't feel like it's possible. The air hole in the room was the only one. That was small too. Then why ...’
“Pak?” call Lastri as soon as the corner of his eye catches up like a shadow is passing by the kitchen doorway. Caught a look from the light bias of the lamp in the middle room. “Pak? You've come home?” There was no answer at all until the woman half ran away and moved. It's still like that. There was only her in the house. Alone with a mind full of question marks. ‘Who was there, huh? I'm guessing someone passed ...’
“Bu!”
“Astaghfirullahal’adzim!” lastri exclaimed spontaneously flipping over as soon as there was a sound of a call from behind her. Instantly the blood felt pumped quickly and gathered to fill the headstone. “Bapak?” He recognized the figure who was standing looking at him. “Bapak ngagetin? When entry? How come you're home? Which kids?” A series of questions flocked from Lastri's lips while rubbing his chest. Bummer.
“Iyan and Iyam are still in the musala. Wh why? How, shocked?” asked Basri while looking at his wife. “What's up, anyway?”
Lastri pouted and did not stop saying certain sentences. “What's up, the hell ... What's up, anyway! I've been calling, nahut or what, cake, sir! Don't make me surprised like this why, anyway?”
Reply skinny guy, “Iya, sorry. I'm just kidding around, ma'am.” Then accompanied by a mischievous smile, Basri rubbed his wife's shoulder. “Ke room, yuk,” take Lastri's husband while winking left eye.
“Ngapain? Mr--“
“Ndadak I'm a kepen, Mom. He-he.”
As a wife who had been living together eleven years, Lastri immediately understood what Basri said just now. “Not Isya yet, Sir. Where the children are still in the musala. Later after Isya prayer, yes.”
“I want it now, Mom,” Basri said urgently. “Mumpung no kids. Yuk, ah.”
“Ih, not now, sir. Liability.”
“Salat Isya can be later in January. I-I can't stand it, though. Kangen same you.” Basri pulled his wife's arm into the room.
“Pak! Not now!”
“Come, ah!”
“Pak! Ih!”
Lastri tried to let go of her husband's hand. He refused to obey Basri. To the point of holding back a step and retreating away.
“Pak! Lepasin, eh! Not now! Paakkk!”
“Bu ..”.
“I also said no, Sir!”
“Bu ... You why?”
“Please!”
“Bu, wake up, Mom! It's me!”
“I-iya, a-I t-know .. you are indeed ...” Lastri stopped his words. Nanar stared at the figure who was watching him intently. “B-father ... you .. uh, a-I ... you know, what is this?” He rubbed his eyes for a moment. Slowly trying to regain consciousness. Middle on the prayer mat. Still complete wearing white mukena with lace flowers at the end of the edge of the cloth.
“Why are you sleeping under?” basri asked while crouching to help his wife get up to sit down. “You're sleepy, sleep in the bed, Mom. Later you catch a cold, you know.”
“A-i'm asleep? S-since when, huh?” muttered Lastri wondered and tried to recall the seconds after performing the Magrib prayer some time ago. ‘Yes, God! Apparently I was dreaming. Unconscious, but it feels like it really happened. Ah, what exactly happened?’
The woman tried to remember. Several times yawned, faced drowsiness attacks are very time is performing the Magrib prayer service earlier. Not as usual. Even though that day did not do much home routine. Tired up? Ah, it's been eleven years that he almost forgot about the taste. Then, suddenly remembered the condition ....
“Bathroom lights off, Sir,” said Lastri after re-evaporating widely. “So I stayed candle there make-“
“Still good, kok,” Basri said as he stood up and took off the wrap around the waist. “Should I nganter kids pee, still a regular kayak flame.”
“Hah? But earlier ...”
“You're a dream ‘ngtimes, Mom. Never mind, if you are still sleepy, just sleep first, gih. I'd like to call my work first, yes.” Basri came out of the room wearing only a singlet shirt and shorts. A moment later there was the echo of his voice conversing through a mobile phone plane on the veranda of the house.
‘Dreams? Was it really just a dream?’ lastri asked still could not believe it. Soon he headed for the back room, checking the bathroom that did look bright. There are no candles there. Lizard on the wall, maybe? There's some tails firmly stuck to the wall up there. Even when opening the drawer of the table where the candle stock is stored in the kitchen, the long white object was still intact had never been used.
Aryan and Maryam were already fully immersed in their respective rooms as soon as Lastri entered their bedroom.
‘Thank God if it was just a dream,’ thought Lastri so back to his room. ‘But ... it feels like real only.’
Come to think of it, lately he was often struck by extreme drowsiness before the time Magrib arrived. Lazy for ablution and water droplets are like the puncture of thousands of needles that stick holes in skin pores. Even if you previously liked to teach the Quran while waiting for Isya to arrive, it has been a few weeks that it is almost no longer done. If Basri hadn't woken up earlier, he might have fallen asleep by morning. Leaving two hours of worship in vain. Sin, of course. But regret is only a word, reluctant to replace it at a later time.
...SERIATE...