USTADZ
10. About Husband

Inside the room, Shahla was busy pondering about the things she had been through for these few days. Plagued by the Samurai gang, banned from college in Jakarta, until finally married to the most he hated ustadz in the cottage first. He thought, is there a more complicated life story than this?

Long thought, Shahla began to worry that one day Ustadz Amar would cross the line between them. She knew as a couple it was okay to touch each other, but as a 19-year-old girl, she felt it was too early to do such things.

So, to overcome his worries, Shahla took out a roll of black duct tape. Without her husband's consent, she began to divide the house in two with black duct tape as a sign of her limit.

"This what?" Ustadz Amar appeared while Shahla was busy with her activities. "Why are your floors duct tape?"

"Ustadz doesn't understand, does it?" Syahla stood up and looked at her work with a satisfied smile. "This is the limit of our room, I am on the right side and Ustadz on the left side. This tape as a boundary of their respective regions. Everyone cannot enter another territory,"

Ustadz Amar spread the view throughout the room. The two rooms were indeed facing each other, with the shape of a house that is boxed, making Syahla stick duct tape right in the middle.

"If for example breaking the limits how?"

"Fined! Once breaking fifty thousand rupiah!"

"Hm.." Ustadz Amar seemed to think. "Keep, if for example I want to wash the dishes, how? The sink is in your area, so all your dirty dishes are washed?"

Syahla. He looked back at the kitchen he had divided into two. Sure enough, in the Ustadz Amar region there is a stove and refrigerator. While in its own place there is only a sink and a garbage box.

Then, later I can not take a snack in the refrigerator dong? Batin Syahla.

"Well, if the kitchen is a free area, so anyone can!" Disconnect later.

"But, how does it feel to be unfair?" ustadz Amar rubbed his beard-free chin.

"meaning?"

"This house is the one I bought. Then I was given a limit to enter my own home. That's not fair, name,"

"Ck, what a reckoning Ustadz! We are husband and wife!"

"Hm.." Ustadz Amar seemed to think again. "But I thought, we're both still not real husband and wife,"

"Loh, loh, loh, how can that be? Kan Ustadz himself has recited kabul ijab in front of pak pengulu!"

"Not enough Syahla, yet" Ustadz Amar shook his head. "Try thinking again. Generally, married couples will have a favorite call for each. If you call me 'ustadz', can you still be called a real married couple?"

"Huh?" Syahla. "Ustadz calls ya 'ustadz' lah! What else is it? Ustadz wants to be called 'honey'?"

"If you don't mind papa.." Ustadz Amar paused his sentence for quite a while. ".. Baby,"

Syahla immediately felt goosebumps hearing the call. He shook his head strongly.

"Enough! Don't ever call me that again! Okay, let it feel like a real husband and wife, from now on, until I call 'Om husband'."

"Why should there be a word 'om' her?" Ustadz Amar knitted his brows.

"Kan Ustadz is 28 years old. I am still 19 years old. We are like nieces and nephews. Right? Well, then, yes.." Shahla approached Ustadz Amar before continuing. "Om Husband?"

Ustadz Amar chuckled. "Take your wife, please,"

...----------------...

After the debate about the husband-wife call, there really was no other special incident. Syahla who had been exhausted after a long trip immediately shut himself in the room, sleeping. While Ustadz Amar prepared the materials for his work tomorrow.

It was the next day, Shahla, in the fog. He woke up late, but today he has morning class.

"Breakfast first," Tegur Ustadz Amar when he saw Syahla closing the door of his room in a hurry, and immediately took the shoes off the shelf.

"It's too late!" Syahla answered while concluding her shoelaces.

Ustadz Amar who was having a good breakfast immediately stood up, then took two slices of bread and applied chocolate jam on one of the loaves. After that, he attached the two loaves of bread with chocolate jam as an adhesive.

Shahla was surprised to receive the bread. She wanted to reject her husband's offer, but after seeing his watch almost showing at 07:30, she finally complied.

On the way, Syahla can only be silent while eating his bread. Several times he was seen checking his phone, making sure his classmates replied whether their lecturer had entered. He had been licensed for three meetings, and this killer lecturer would definitely not give his next pass. If Syahla does not enter today, it is certain that the value of C will be cantongi.

"Let's dong spout bales," cried Shahla with her mouth clothed in bread and her hand typed in a message.

"Beached first handphone Wife," Ustadz Amar rebuked. "Please the food first,"

"Just a second!" Syahla is busy typing messages. "Fear the teacher has come!"

Ustadz Amar took a deep breath. Looks like it's time he pulled out his flagship style.

"One.."

Syahla looked surprised. "What the hell, why use the count of everything? Is this in the cottage?"

"Two.."

Ustadz Amar appeared to ignore the call of the Syahla protests.

"Ti—"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," Syahla put the phone away. "Had been a husband still fierce,"

Ustadz Amar smiled listening to Syahla's nagging. Although always protesting, Syahla still remains afraid of the counting method.

Arriving at the campus, Syahla immediately ran out of the car. He wanted to get into the classroom immediately, but his steps stopped seeing Ustadz Amar following behind him.

"Om Husband, why are you following me?"

Ustadz Amar shrugged his shoulders. "Who followed you?"

"Yes this? Why come along here? Is it not working? No need to take care of me to that extent. It's still safe in the afternoon,"

"No need to geer. I'm here to work" Ustadz Amar showed me his backpack. Shahla still doesn't understand. If you work, why go to college?

Ustadz Amar then set foot ahead of Shahla. The curious Shahla finally followed behind. He completely forgot the morning class with the killer lecturer who threatened his grades.

Apparently, Ustadz Amar went to the building of the Faculty of MIPA, which is next to the Faculty of Letters where he studied.

"Om, to be honest, Om what the hell is all this? Want to go to college again?" Syahla still continued to ask while following her husband from behind.

Ustadz Amar is actually very uncomfortable with the call 'om. But he chose to be quiet and not respond to his wife's babble. He then stopped his steps in front of the lecturer's room.

"Eh, Mr. Amar has entered. How are you, sir?" Sapa a cleaning service who just came out of the room while carrying a broom mop. "I think you're on vacation this week. It's already in, yeah,"

"It's Anton. Thank God my business is in order," Ustadz Amar seemed to greet the cleaning service familiarly.

"Oh sir, don't shaman. My hands are dirty, later if you meet the students so embarrassed,"

"Yaampun mas, it's normal. I at home also often mopping coke," replied Ustadz Amar with a smile.

During that time, Shahla could only blink her eyes quickly while dumbstruck. Because she was used to seeing Ustadz Amar in the pesantren, Syahla to forget that her husband was a graduate of the master of Chemistry.

"Ngapain is still here? Wanna come in? He said there was a morning class, "Ustadz Amar turned his gaze to Shahla who was still standing behind him.

The words of Ustadz Amar immediately brought Shahla's consciousness back. Without saying anything else, he immediately dashed towards his own class.

Lecturer killer, I am coming!!!