Maybe not once this Mr. Kos scolded his son, Dimas. As far as I know these days Dimas and his sister, Bayu is always gloomy face.
"Kamudah this is already big, have high school, cook in order to buy flour gitu wrote wrong, ho ... alah le .. apasih fill your head ...! said Mr. kos. "Kanji in the stall is still a lot, if you buy a lot more like this, can mushrooms later ... basic, where father money is up, not to mention to pay your spp!"
Dimas just bowed his head. Did not you just tell kanji, not flour, or he hears the wrong. Inner Dimas in his fear. Yes maybe he did not hear.
"Yes sir, I'll exchange again ... The word dimas Pelan.
"No need ..., let aja .. hopefully wrote aja ..." replied his father ketus. The middle-aged man sluggishly abandoned his depressed son.
Mr. kos saw then sat wearily in his chair, before sitting as if he was about to talk to me, but he looked doubtful. He threw his body heavily in the bamboo chair, making a creaking sound. I, who had been sitting in front of the room, and watched the incident, immediately entered the room. I took the book and I try to read something. My mind was not able to concentrate on the reading. I take my wallet, I see a dime in it, maybe just three thousand.
From inside the room, through the glass window, I saw Mr. Kos pacing the porch of his house. He looked restless. His son was gone.
I continue to read the old novel as much as possible ....
"What did I say? Mr. Kos shouted suddenly, I saw Bu Kos was in his shop, near the house. Apparently Mr. Kos spoke to him. "Do not put oil near that door, it spills ..!
I see bu kos not answer, while cleaning up the rest of the oil spill, I saw his lips mutter something, it seems not great about the oil spilled it.
It's been a few days Mr Kos's mood looks bleak, it seems he was wreaking it on the people around him.
That afternoon I went to my friend's lodgings, until a few days I lived there, debt here and there for living expenses. I have not dared to go back to my own business. I want to avoid temporarily until my call comes.
That afternoon the atmosphere of Jogja is very bright, I see the sun in the west there is still bright light. Budi saw smiling approaching me. "Sleep where are you?" Asked my kosku friend.
"Kosan Supri." I replied briefly with a smile. "Pak kos ask me ..?"
Budi shook his head. "Bud, there is no money, pinjem dong, souvenir goods ato maepak thousand ja ..?
Budi paused and took out his wallet, he took the fifteen thousand and handed it to me. I thank him. I know the money is not much for now, he has not come back to Gunung Kidul to take a monthly ration from home. But Budi is indeed a native Jogja, just like Mr. Kos, full of tolerance and hesitation. I saw him walk away thinking about something. Hope it's not about money, my heart.
That afternoon I hopefully go to the ATM on the entrance of the campus, with a heart full thumping I see saldoku on the machine, there is Rp. 200,000, I feel quite satisfied. Although not very happy, because minus debt and pay the boarding house, maybe only Rp.50.000. and I'll be back in a few days. well this is the struggle I think, motivate myself, even if it remains less calm this sense. Diligent parents at home pontang skelter to and fro here looking for cost for my life this.
Soon after that I went back to the boardinghouse and headed to boarding house. Hopefully with my arrival he can immediately cover his needs, and no longer looking for a scapegoat to vent his anxiety for hesitate to withdraw money from me.