![sholat nangis.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmXBAukZiLgqqpPsTL5eXFj2ShaXsazoS1Ky6wpcW1fYyH/sholat%20nangis.jpg)

Bilingual short story by Ahmadun Yosi Herfanda
(Part Three - The End)

Tugiyem was chuckling to herself as she thought about the petrified faces of Bruno and Barjo who hid behind the altar of the mosque that build on the riverbank of Gajah Wong River. She immediately held back her laughter with both her hands. As soon as the police officers left, then Barjo and Bruno came rushing out.

“Now we could your true colors Jo, You do like to steal other people’s washings huh? You’re no holier than I am," insulted Bruno as both he and Barjo sat back down in the mosque’s terrace. 
“I swear to God, I am a clean scavenger!”
“So why were you scared?” asked Pak Somad skeptically.
“ I am scared I would get caught in the roving patrols and sent back to my village in this poor condition,” said Barjo trying to defend himself.

Since that day, the two police officers have frequented the mosque every day during the Magrib prayers. They even joined in on prayers led by Pak Somad. Since that day, Pak Somad also lost two of his congregation members, Bruno and Barjo. The night the police officers came, Tugiyem saw them leave with big backpacks towards the east. This left Pak Somad wondering, were they really wanted.

“Why do you like to pray here, in this old worn mosque. Why not in the other fancy mosques?” Asked Pak Somad after he has summoned the courage to ask to the police mans.
“We don’t know, Pak, it just feels like we fit right in here. The vibe is very different, it reminds me of an old mosque back in my hometown where I prayed every night,” Answered the police officer.
“So you are not searching for someone?”
“Who? What’s the matter?”

Pak Somad then gave them a description of both Barjo and Bruno who left the night the police officers came.
“Maybe they are wanted by the Police lately. They are suspects in a murder and robbery case in [Semarang](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semarang). The police didn’t know that they had been laying low here,” said the police, obviously looking surprised. “Honestly, we are not even on duty, we are just in charge of traffic enforcement,” added the police officers.

Pak Somad was surprised beyond belief when he heard that Bruno and Barjo were wanted by the police and that they are the prime suspects in a robbery and murder case. He felt that he has been played by these criminals for a full month.
“We had no idea that they were the ruthless murderers that they are,” said Pak Somad in a sad tone.
“Well, we better convey this information quickly to our head of intelligence,” said the officers whilst rushing away.
 
Pak Somad leant back against the walls of the mosques, feeling sinful and useless. He spent months being an [imam](https://www.thoughtco.com/role-of-the-imam-2004527) in a mosque while only being able to save two criminals and a prostitute, without being able to turn them away from their wicked way of life. Suddenly he reminisced his village in the rural areas of [Paliyan](https://id.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paliyan,_Gunung_Kidul), [Gunungkidul](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunung_Kidul_Regency). He became homesick and longed to get together again with his wife, kids and grand children who stayed back home.

“Yem, I might go back to my home town tomorrow,” said Pak Somad.
“When are you coming back?”
“Maybe never, I would like to spend the rest of my life back home.”

The next day Pak Somad really left the mosque. Turgiyem sent him off to the bus station. She felt sad, imagining how empty and quiet the mosque would be. She also thought about how empty her feelings would be, being the only remaining member of her congregation. The two [becak](www.topindonesiaholidays.com/blog/?p=4191) drivers have left to move somewhere else, so did the motorbike kingpin. Aside from that, the old [muazzim](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/muazzin) has passed away from [tuberculosis](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuberculosis) .

“How could you leave me alone,” said Tugiyem, her eyes watering uncontrollably.
“Yem, there is no other way. I’m old, I’m afraid that when I die, no one would take care of my body, I want to leave surrounded by my grandchildren.”

Pak Somad boarded the bus that took him off to Gunungkidul. Tugiyem was really alone. Every day she prayed in the solace of the mosque, alone spilling her feelings out. She looked back at her loneliness, the hideousness of her careers, and all the pain in her heart whilst her tears flooded the sajadah and the old mattress. Her cries were carried by the wind into the valleys of Gajah Wong River, but no one cared about the painful cries of this prostitute. Until one day, a young man came into the doors of the mosque.

“Your mom passed away, hurry. You have to come home with me now!”

 (THE END)


SEORANG PELACUR DI SEBUAH MASJID KECIL
Cerpen Ahmadun Yosi Herfanda
(Bagian Tiga)

Sementara, Tugiyem malah jadi tertawa cekikikan membayangkan perasaan Bruno dan Barjo yang bersembunyi di balik mimbar. Ia segera menahan tawa dengan menutupkan mukena ke mulutnya. Ketika kedua polisi itu sudah pergi, Barjo dan Bruno baru berani keluar.

“Nah, sekarang ketahuan belangmu, Jo. Kau ternyata juga suka mencuri jemuran, ya? Kau tidak lebih suci dari aku,” Bruno segera menyerang Barjo begitu mereka duduk kembali di serambi masjid.
“Demi Tuhan. Aku pemulung yang bersih!”
“Tapi, mengapa kamu takut pada polisi?” tanya Pak Somad.
“Takut kena razia, Pak. Takut dipaksa pulang ke kampung. Saya malu pada keluarga dan para tetangga kalau harus kembali ke kampung dalam keadaan masih melarat begini,” Barjo membela diri.

Sejak hari itu, kedua polisi tersebut hampir setiap Magrib bersembahyang di masjid tua tersebut. Bahkan mereka sering ikut berjamaah bersama Pak Somad. Sejak hari itu pula Pak Somad kehilangan dua jemaah setianya, Bruno dan Barjo. Setelah kedatangan dua polisi itu, pada malam harinya, Tugiyem melihat mereka pergi membawa ransel besar naik bus kota ke timur. Pak Somad jadi menduga-duga, jangan-jangan keduanya memang buron.
   
“Mengapa Bapak lebih suka sembahyang di masjid kami yang jelek ini. Tidak di masjid kampus IAIN yang bagus itu?” Pak Somad memberanikan diri bertanya pada polisi itu.
“Tidak tahulah, Pak. Rasanya kok lebih sreg sembahyang di sini. Suasananya sangat khas, mengingatkan saya pada masjid tua di kampung saya, tempat saya mengaji tiap malam ketika kecil,” jawab salah seorang polisi.
“Tidak sedang mencari seseorang, Pak?”
“Seseorang? Siapa? Memangnya kenapa?”

Pak Somad segera menceritakan perilaku dan ciri-ciri Barjo serta Bruno yang tiba-tiba menghilang setelah dua polisi itu datang.
"Mungkin mereka yang sedang dicari polisi akhir-akhir ini, Pak. Mereka mungkin tersangka pelaku perampokan dan pembunuhan di Semarang. Polisi tidak tahu kalau mereka telah menyamar dan bersembunyi di sini,” kata salah seorang polisi itu dengan ekspresi kaget. “Tapi, kami tidak sedang bertugas mencari mereka, Pak. Kami hanya polisi lalu lintas,” tambahnya.
 
Pak Somad sangat terkejut mendengar bahwa Bruno dan Barjo ternyata buronan polisi dan tersangka perampokan dan pembunuhan. Ia merasa selama hampir sebulan telah dikibuli oleh kedua penjahat itu.
“Kami sama sekali tidak menyangka kalau mereka perampok dan pembunuh,” ujar Pak Somad dengan nada sedih.
“Kalau begitu, baiklah, Pak, kami akan segera melaporkan informasi ini kepada Kasi Intel kami,” kata polisi itu sambil cepat-cepat pergi.

Pak Somad menyandarkan tubuhnya ke dinding masjid tua itu. Tiba-tiba saja ia merasa sangat berdosa dan sia-sia. Selama berbulan-bulan menjadi imam masjid hanya mampu melindungi dua penjahat dan pelacur tanpa sempat menyadarkan dan menyelamatkan hidup mereka. Tiba-tiba pula dia teringat pada dusunnya di pedalaman Paliyan, Gunungkidul. Ia menjadi sangat rindu untuk pulang dan berkumpul kembali dengan istri, anak, dan cucu-cucunya yang masih bertahan tinggal di desa.

“Mungkin besok aku akan pulang ke desa, Yem,” ujar Pak Somad.
“Kapan akan kembali ke sini lagi, Pak?”
“Mungkin tidak akan pernah kembali lagi. Aku ingin menghabiskan sisa umurku di desa saja.”

Keesokan harinya Pak Somad benar-benar meninggalkan masjid tua itu. Tugiyem mengantarkannya sampai ke terminal bus. Perasaannya sangat sedih. Ia membayangkan betapa kosong dan sepinya masjid itu. Betapa bakal kosong hatinya, karena tinggal dia sendiri yang akan mengunjungi masjid itu. Dua tukang becak yang biasa ikut berjamaah juga sudah berpamitan untuk berangkat bertransmigrasi, begitu pula makelar motor bekas. Sedang muazim tua masjid itu seminggu sebelumnya mati karena TBC.

“Bapak tega meninggalkan saya? Padahal Bapak sudah saya anggap sebagai orang tua sendiri,” kata Tugiyem sambil menitikkan air mata.
“Tidak ada jalan lain, Yem. Aku sudah terlalu tua. Aku khawatir nanti jenasahku tidak ada yang mengurus kalau aku mati di sini. Aku ingin mati di tengah anak-cucuku saja.”

Pak Somad masuk ke dalam bus yang segera membawanya ke Gunungkidul. Tugiyem benar-benar tinggal sendiri. Ia membayangkan bagaimana akan bertahan hidup sendiri di kota yang mulai banyak dijamah kekerasan, penganiayaan, perkosaan, pembunuhan, dan bahkan kerusuhan massal. Ia ingat kawan sekampungnya, Suwarni, yang bulan lalu menjadi korban pembunuhan, dan ditemukan tewas terkapar di tepi rel kereta api dengan tubuh luka-luka berlumuran darah. Ia ingat ketika dirazia bersama kawan-kawanya oleh aparat keamanan pekan lalu, kemudian dilepas setelah dipaksa melayani nafsu bejat seorang oknum petugas. Ya, kota ini memang sudah mulai dikotori oleh tangan-tangan kebejatan, dan Tugiyem merasa ngeri membayangkan itu semua.

Maka, setiap waktu sembahyang tiba dia selalu menumpahkan keluh-kesahnya sendirian di masjid itu. Ia ratapi kesepiannya, kehinaan nasibnya, dan segala kepedihan hatinya. Air matanya selalu mengucur membasahi sajadah dan tikar tua masjid itu. Suara tangisnya diterbangkan angin sampai ke lembah-lembah Kali Gajahwong dan mengetuk pintu rumah-rumah penduduk di sekitarnya. Namun, tidak seorang pun mendengar tangis pedih pelacur itu.

Sampai suatu senja, seorang lelaki muda menghampirinya di pintu masjid, dan berkata dengan wajah dingin,  “Ibumu meninggal dunia tadi siang. Kau harus pulang sekarang juga bersamaku!” (SELESAI)

https://steemit.com/prostitute/@ahmadunyh/a-prostitute-in-a-little-mosque



https://steemit.com/prostitute/@ahmadunyh/9idqq-a-prostitute-in-a-little-mosque