The Virgin Corpse Assignment
Section 29
...THE VIRGIN CORPSE...
...Author by: David Khanz...
...Section 29...
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Mbah Jarwo snorts. Either upset or as an expression of disappointment saw the attitude of Juragan Juanda earlier. “Honey once ...” said the old man back. “If the evidence is not lost, maybe we can-“
“What do you mean, Mbah? Gone off? The lantern?” Suddenly Juragan Juanda flocked Mbah Jarwo with three questions at once.
“Lho, Juragan don't know yet?”
“S-I don't know if the lantern is gone. Over where? When did that happen?” The perlente male figure looked surprised. “Why did Sadam never tell me? Uh, where is he now? I have to talk to him right now!”
“Quiet first, Juragan,” exclaimed Mbah Jarwo asking that Juragan Juanda not call Sadam figure first. “This is a strange new thing for me, too. K-we talked first in four eyes, between me and Juragan.”
Fortunately, Juragan Juanda would like to listen to the advice of Mbah Jarwo. The two of them continued the conversation there until noon. Precisely until I saw Azan Duhur heard echoing throughout the village of Sirnagalih.
‘Hhmmm, why didn't Sadam tell me about the lost lantern lamp to Juanda?’ Benak Mbah Jarwo began to be filled with various questions. ‘As a confidant, it should be as important as that he should report to his employer as well. This it? Even no. If only today I had not met Juragan Juanda, of course this important thing I would have just passed. Huh!’ The old figure sipped his coffee for a moment, followed by a puff on a kawung cigarette that remained a few inches longer. ‘Terus .. the figure of the maid who was in Juanda's house earlier, I was like seeing something that he hid from his eyes. It's very interesting. From a long time I know the family, just this time I saw ... umm, what was that name earlier, yes?’ Mbah Jarwo tried to remember. Until then ....
‘Eemm ... Whetted. Yes, as the name suggests. Hhmmm.’
Mbah Jarwo still remembered the time when the woman named Asih approached, brought two glasses of drink, then his eyes were momentarily fixed on the figure of the old man. Chilly. But behind the smile line that split the indentation of the laughter line on his cheek earlier, there was clearly a shiver of compulsion there. Be friendly when serving guests. Could it be, ‘kan?
But what exactly makes the old man interested in the female figure in Juanda Juragan house? Small oddities that are often found in someone who is just seen, of course, will give birth to strange judgments on his attitude. Reasonable? If there is nothing interesting. No exception to Sadam. In fact, for many years living in the Juanda Juragan family, just this time Mbah Jarwo thought a lot about the figure of the man on that one. Why new now? Maybe because his old mind was often filled with various questions about the case that befell one of the villagers?
“Pak ...” call one voice behind Mbah Jarwo, suddenly. The old man looked. “What's up, Mom?” the question then, coldly, on a figure who turned out to be his own wife.
“Lately I noticed you often come out, but not to the garden or rice fields,” said the old woman after sitting in the chair next to her husband. “Actually what, the hell, are you selling it? What other business with the citizens here?”
Mbah Jarwo pretended to reach for his coffee glass, sipping a little even leaving only a little dregs. Reluctant to talk about what is being thought about so far with his wife. It's nothing, just worry if it causes an unwanted burden on the mind of the woman.
“Still about the grave of Juragan Juanda's son, ‘kan?”
The old man was surprised. Bummer. Looking towards his wife with a sharp look. “D-where do you know, Bu?” ask him with a heart beating.
Mbah Jarwo scratched his head that had been filled with gray hair. “He-he, I don't think you're horrified, Mom. Waduh!” he only realized his boredom some time ago.
“What if I knew?”
“Yaaa, why not, Bu.”
“Saking busy, so that you do not want what our own child, sir?” Mbah Jarwo's wife scowled. “Have been a few months since there was no news from his family. ‘Where is it? Especially our two grandchildren, sir. I, really, lately keep thinking the same they.”
“Ah, maybe it's just your mind, ma'am. Rest assured, if they are okay now. Thank goodness it has changed so much better.”
“Tomorrow we go yuk, Sir.”
“Where?”
“Nengokin our grandson. Where else? I'm afraid that this incident happened again with our daughter-in-law, Lastri. Si Basri left without saying goodbye, Iyan and Iyam were sent here.”
Mbah Jarwo thought first for a while, until then he said, “Iya, Mom. But not tomorrow, huh?”
“Keep when?” ask the old woman named Emak Sari.
“Later,” replied Mbah Jarwo, “after I took care of my own work here.”
“Hhmmm, Mr. ..”
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Dangdut's music echoed frenziedly filled the dim room with colorful light. Basri just sat around staring at a large television screen, along with a slow kick while reading a series of song lyrics. While two friends were engrossed in singing to the beat of the rhythm, accompanied by two scantily dressed and tight female karaoke guides. Every now and then their guerrilla hands touch the sensitive body parts of each, then greeted giggling mischievously from the four. A dozen of the songs they had already passed, but only a few were actually followed closely. The rest mixed with other activities while enjoying a serving of a typical stinging-scented drink.
For a moment Basri stared at the four figures beside him while frowning. Slightly dizzy and blurred vision, coupled with a hot dera burning the esophagus and stomach. She had already finished the contents of the liquor bottle on the table together, equipped with some dirty scattered snacks there, barely left.
“Why, Mas?” Suddenly one of the two women approached. Asking attentively with the bending of the heaping. “From yesterday I saw, Mas this myself continues? Can I put it here?” He glanced for a moment at one of Basri's friends at the side, having moved from the binal check on the lap of the figure.
...SERIATE...