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Sunday, June 5, 2011

[Cerpen] Whre's Didot

WHERE’S DIDOT?
by Erna Fitrini

    Ujal looked at his table one more time.  It wasn’t there.  He checked his bed.  He also looked under the bed.  It wasn’t there.  Ujal was looking for his new comic book.  “Where is it?” he thought.  He could not remember where he put it.  Then he walked to Didot’s bedroom.  His younger brother was reading a magazine.
    “Dot, did you see my comic?”  Ujal asked.
    Didot kept reading the magazine.  He pretended that he didn’t hear his brother.
    Ujal repeated his question louder.  “Dot, did you see my comic?”
    Didot looked at his brother for a second.  Then he pulled a comic from under a pillow.  He held it  tightly.
    “Give it to me.  I want to read it,” Ujal said.
    Didot gave the comic to Ujal.  “Sorry,” he said softly.  “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
    Ujal was shocked when he saw the comic.  The cover and some of the pages were torn.  “You have to buy me a new one,” Ujal said angrily.  Ujal stomped back to his room.  He was so angry at his brother that he did not want to see Didot.

***

    In the afternoon, his mother came to Ujal’s room.  “Jal, Didot hasn’t got home yet.    It’s almost Maghrib.  I’m worried.”
    “Where did he go, Bu?” Ujal asked.
    “To the market…”
    Ujal took his bicycle and rode to the market.  Only a few stores were still open.  In front of a small bookstore, Ujal saw Didot. 
    Ujal stopped his bicycle.  “Dot, Ibu is looking for you,” Ujal told his brother.
    Didot looked at Ujal.  Didot shook his head.
    “Dot, hurry!  It’s almost Maghrib,” Ujal said.
    “But, I haven’t bought the comic book for you yet.  I don’t have enough money,” Didot said.  He was sitting on the steps with tears in his eyes.
    Ujal remembered that he asked Didot to buy him a new one.    Ujal sat down next to Didot.  He looked at the money in Didot’s hands.  Ujal was curious.  There was about twelve thousand rupiah.  “Where did you get the money?” 
    “I sold the old newspapers and magazines.  I still need four thousand rupiah,” Didot said.
    Ujal tapped Didot on the shoulder.  “That’s OK.  I’m sorry for being mad at you.   I can still read that comic.  Don’t worry.”  Ujal smiled at his brother.
    “You are not mad at me anymore?”
    Ujal shook his head and smiled.  “Let’s go home.  Ibu is waiting for us.”

CnS Junior, Edition 79, Vol. VIII April 2010

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