Last Pack Rice For Nabila
Where's He?

With dark night sky and a stretch of cardboard, Raga put Nabila to sleep under the overpass. Dark conditions, only occasionally highlighted from the lights of passing vehicles. There was no one there, nor did anyone care about her condition.

So cruel is life today. Only one month of happiness was lost. Short, even very short as the blink of an eye. Now there is a misery that does not know where and when the end is.

"I can't keep quiet. Tomorrow we have to make money to survive." In the middle of the night gripping, the sound of crickets and owls occasionally perched on the ears but was ignored. Although there is a feeling of goosebumps, but even greater the worry of his heart.

For most of the night Raga did not sleep properly. His sleep was disturbed by Nabila's voice whimpering in the cold. He can only pray, hopefully tomorrow Nabila does not have a fever. Because this was the first time his sister had slept in the open. Luckily Nabila was strong, neither whining nor crying. Nabila is not crybaby, but even Raga himself who had sobbed. Sad to cry over the fate of his life and his sister.

The next day he woke up to the sound of a street broomstick. Without feeling he was thrown out.

"Street children, community trash!"

It had walked two meters, but Raga's ears still heard the insults from the broomsticker. He was only inward, what in that environment was no longer a human who had a heart. He and his sister were two abandoned boys, but no one was kind enough to help or lighten the burden of the heart. Always insulted and looked down upon.

"When? You're not sick, are you?" Raga stared worriedly at Nabila who looked weak and powerless.

"No, Brother. But if you want to eat." Again the word was like the fangs of a wild animal that tore the heart to pieces. Where to go just to find a mouthful of rice.

Srak .. srak ….

Rungu Raga heard the broom stick colliding with the dry leaves and soil. He turned his head and saw the fat man with gray hair sweeping through the office yard which Raga himself had not been clear what office it was. 

Raga thinks, usually at the gathering place of the officials there are leftovers thrown into the trash can. Hurry him closer. "Excuse me, Sir. Can I check the trash box?"

The old man turned his head and stopped his activities. "The trash box has been cleaned! There go! Just make it dirty."

"But, Mr …."

"Still ngeyel? Want this broom to float in your head! Go!" he was accompanied by bulging eyeballs.

"Hua ... Brother, When afraid." Nabila who was carried on her back cried in fear. Raga stroked and calmed her sister.

Again, those bare feet had to step aimlessly. He doesn't care if people insult him, but Nabila, he's too small to deal with the cruelty of people who have no conscience.

The ripples of gurgling river water filled the sense of hearing. Raga dropped her sister off on the rocky riverbank. "Sir, we clean up first, yeah. All of you want to find anything we can eat."

"Sister, if you drink a little water, yes. Thirsty."

"Hem. Don't forget to read the bismillah." 

Raga knows, the river water is not what they deserve to drink. But what power, only the unsterilized turbid water could drain their throats. "Lord, give us a little sustenance for today, pity my sister."

Raga groped the muddy ground, hoping to find fish, eels or water animals that could be consumed. 

Raga did not immediately reply, much was being thought out. 

"Same father is already in the sky, huh, brother? When do we catch up with them? When you remember you come home mulung always bring when snack."

Raga rubbed the sweat along with a drop of tears that still hangs in the eye pelupuk. He also misses you, his sister said. After scavenging used goods, if the money obtained is quite a lot, the father brought home a pocket of astor that will be shared with his sister.

The present state, a thin mustache had not grown above the lips, but she was forced into adulthood. Forced to live and endure the hardships of life alone. 

Silence wreathes. Nabila had stopped telling stories, the boy was cool playing water and washing into his body.

"Don't go in the middle, Dek, there's dalem. Afraid drowning!" shouted Raga commemorating Nabila.

"Yes, Brother."

Today God granted the prayer of Raga. He got one eel and one cork fish the size of Nabila's wrist. His little sister greeted with joyous cheers. The raga collects dried leaves and twigs, then looks for two stones to replace the lighters. That experience he got from my father. You always teach a lot in trouble.

Without salt, without flavoring, but the meat of fish and eel really taste good. Especially for those who are very hungry. Almost all the meat was separated for his sister, whereas he only enjoyed the head and the remains of his durians.

"Sister, why is the meat given to all?"

"Silver prefers head and meat next to thorns, more delicious. Already, you spend it all, let it be full." Lying, of course. Who does not like tender and savory fish meat, of course. But what Raga had in mind the most important thing was her sister. She herself? Let it be, still strong hold hunger until God gives the door of sustenance back.

"Sister, when full." Nabila tasted the five fingers that are still left fish meat. On top of the banana leaves, left eel meat and cork fish.

"Not spent? Nanggung," said Raga.

The boy with slightly frowny hair shook his head. "It's full."

"Wait a minute, yeah." Raga got up and walked down the street. Back with a white crackle, he put the rest of the fish meat and tucked it in his pocket.

"Cock in the bag, brother?" ask Nabila innocently.

"Day's still long, Dek. Who knows, you'll be hungry in the afternoon, but you'll still be eaten." 

They were still resting under a big tree near the river, the breeze hypnotized Raga and involuntarily fell asleep.

Nabila who was just pretending to be asleep woke up, without waking the older sister, the little girl walked down the street.

Where's she?