Miyawlova
Dreams of Glory 2

Still POV Gilang aka Papoy KW:

I pretended I didn't miss Bu Pipit. I pretended to open my math notebook.

“Who is GLG?” ask the teacher. He read my initials. I've carved my initials in a ruler with a run. Mucus!

There were two people with GLG in the class. One of them was Guntoro Sky Gumilar, sitting in the front row. He stood up without being asked.

“Not me, Mom,” GLG first said and pinched his own cheek. “For God's sake, Bu.”

The teacher looked at him while narrowing his eyes, still suspicious.

“I swear to God, Mom,” said the first GLG while sobbing.

Swear to God is powerful. Everyone believed in him.

“Who is the other GLG? GILANG!” the teacher shouted my name.

All eyes are turned to me. The teacher walks to my desk. I also stood up.

I didn't say a word. The teacher too.

PLAQUE PLAQUE…

Both of my cheeks are sore.

“Stolen food? Are you a thief?” ask the teacher. He looked at me as if he had stolen a diamond from a museum.

I lowered my head. Miss Pipit slapped my nape. “Out of this class!”

I dragged my feet out of the room, watched by the class.

“Ratna, clean yourself in the bathroom,” says Bu Pipit.

I leaned against the wall outside the classroom. Ratna rubbed her eyes and walked past me towards the restroom.

“Didih, you dramatic pretentious! Though I only ate half your chocolate cake!” my inner.

Long story short, that was the first time I met the great Ratna. I have to say that even if this is my story, you won't like me too much. A ten-year-old thief, however, is not worth liking.

I come from the village. According to my IPS teacher the village is one of the oldest places on earth, hahaha lebay! People came here to settle in 1200 BC.

This place is named after the river that crosses the city and empties into the Bengawan Solo River. People call my place of residence by many names according to the origins they know or according to the origin of the term giver.

I live in a very noisy place to the point that I and some people stuff their ears with cotton if they want to sleep. Some say that my village is beautiful, holy and spiritual. Especially when we have to introduce this place to tourists. Many also say that this place is dirty and dirty. I don't think my village is dirty, but it's the people who dirty it.

Anyway people say my village is a place that must be visited at least once in a lifetime.

I keep a pencil in my pocket. I used the pencil to crate “5A uye” on the wall. It's good to help pass the time. In addition, it will be easier to find our classes.

Ratna's out of the toilet. Her wet, still-dramatically pretentious face stared at me fixedly and walked back to class.

Getting closer, he kept looking at me. “You doodled the wall!” said the girl.

“So there!,” says I. “Sana!”

“Why did you steal my provisions?’ timpale.

“Gue ga steal bekallu,” I said. “Gue just ate your chocolate cake three bites. You won't know.”

“You are really a bad boy!” Ratna.

**

Somewhere else.

Uncle Debri, our lawyer, shoved a small box of snacks into us.

“Martabak? For what?” bapak Said.

Uncle Debri is visiting. Bokap and I faced him behind our old-fashioned dining table.

“You've got a trial date,” said Uncle Debri.

“It just took a long time. Therefore, I think we should celebrate.”

I wonder if can I give martabak to the dramatic pretentious Ratna as compensation for the cake? I want to buy some chocolate tar and slam it on the girl's desk. But I don't have the money to buy cake. Bokap did not give me pocket money, also did not have a lot of money in his own pocket.

There was a land dispute when grandfather died. It was for this reason that Uncle Debri visited our house often.

“You brought martabak just because we got a trial schedule?” Mr. coughed. The case did not return the land, but only aggravated his respiratory tract disease.

“Well, how does Yanto want to settle this case out of court,” said Uncle Debri.

Yanto is the name of your brother, he cheated us. My grandfather inherited both his sons' farmland. Not long after my grandfather died, Uncle Yanto borrowed money from the bank and used the land rations owned by you, included files numbered fake series and bribed bank employees.

Uncle Yanto lost money and lost money. The bank then sent us a foreclosure letter. The brothers then fought each other. All of these cases are stuck in the path of law. The progress is slower than the delman rate on the highway.

“Peaceful path?” He leaned forward.

I took a piece of martabak and put it in a tissue and I bought it.

“Yanto will give you some cash. He will take your land ration and face a legal case with the bank,” said Uncle Debri.

After hearing the amount of money mentioned, you are silent. I picked up another piece of martabak. “The boy must be satisfied with two pieces,” my inner to the Ratna.

“I admit the offer was too low for such a land,” continued Uncle Debri. “But, the old land was allocated for loans in bulk!”

“It's not my loan!” the father said in a very loud voice, not ordinary.

“He handed your documents to the bank. Why did you give him your land certificate?”

“He's my brother,” said Father, fighting tears. His heart was more grieved at losing a brother than it was at losing ground.

“If you want more money, I can ask Yanto. Why let this case linger?” said Uncle Debri.

“I am the son of a farmer. I will not give up my land,” said the Father, his eyes red. “Step my corpse first. Tell him to kill me if he wants the land!”

He looked at me as my hand stretched out to pick up the third martabak piece.

“It's okay, just take it all,” Uncle Debri told me.

I looked at the two of them, picked up the box and ran outside the room.

**

Somewhere else.

I slammed the box on Ratna's desk.

“What is this?” The girl looked at me with a good-natured look.

“Gue kan kemaren eat your cake. Sorry for me?” i said.

“I don't like martabak,” he announced.

“Why? Are you bule or what until you don't like martabak?” my timpal.

“Not. Martabak makes us fat. I don't want to be fat,” he said.

“Tar chocolate ga make fat?” ask me.

“I don't want to,” said. The box pushed me slowly towards me.

“Yes already,” I said and took the box.

“What did you apologize for?” Ratna.

“Iya,” answer me. I noticed that the braids of her hair were curled up, tied with red ribbons. He looks like a cartoon.

“Your apology is accepted,” said.

“Thank you,” said I. “Yakin you don't want this martabak?”

“Iya. Fat women can't be flight attendants,” she said.

“Lu want to be a flight attendant?” ask me.

“Ya.”

“Why?”

“Awardesses fly everywhere. I want to take a walk to many places.”

“Oke.”

“If you want to be what?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Wealthy people,” I said.

Ratna nodded, as if to think my choice made sense. “What are you now poor?”

“Ya,” answer me.

Ratna said, “I'm rich. We have car.”

“We don't have a car. It was yes. Dah...” I was about to leave when Ratna spoke again.

I came back to my chair. I opened the box with the martabak and took it a piece.

Ratna walked up to me.

“What” ask me.

“You can eat my lunch sometimes. Just don't take much. And do not take cakes or other good snacks.”

“Still,” I said.

“And don't mess it up. If you want you can eat together at rest.”

“Let's food you ga enough,” I said.

“ Ga anything. I'm on a diet. I don't want to be fat.” Ratna said.