Lucky Spit

"Not twenty percent, Master," said Oyong, "too much!"

"If that's too much, then what's an appropriate amount?" Omel raised his voice. "I'm the one who promoted you, spreading rumors about your lucky saliva. That it can cure various illnesses! Let me convince people that I am a witness and the evidence!"

"It's like that, Skipper," said Oyong. "I don't deny it. But not twenty percent, okay? Too many."

“If twenty percent is too much, tell me how much!” Omel insisted.

Oyong did not immediately answer. Instead he scratched his hair. "The important thing is that it's appropriate. But not that big!”

"Kong, I'm not asking for too much. You know I'm not a greedy person." Omel patted Oyong's shoulder. "Just a third of it, how about that?"

Oyong immediately widened his lips. “There you go! It's just a fair name!"

***

A week before, Oyong left his guard post staggering. His head was throbbing. The money that was supposed to be used to buy fertilizer for his boss disappeared as it was stolen during his gambling game. He was caught in the rain, almost midnight, afraid his wife wouldn't open the door for him. Unexpectedly, Oyong slipped when he was almost at the front door of his house. His forehead hit the wall.

”Bad pig! Ringworm dog!”

Whether it's because of cursing too much or his forehead is swollen as big as a ping-pong ball, Oyong's body feels hot. He can only sleep after midnight, hallucinating and dreaming about being chased by a crazy person. Dalilah wakes up immediately, listening carefully, perhaps there is a woman's name mentioned from her husband's mouth. Fortunately, there isn't, except for alternating groans and snoring.

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The next day, Oyong woke up late and forgot to buy fertilizer before delivering it to his boss's rice field before the sun was too high. The fever from the night before was gone, even though Oyong's swollen forehead was still the same color as a duwet fruit. As usual, Oyong opened the window of his room and forcefully spat out the phlegm that had accumulated in his mouth.

Whoa! Wow!

At the same time, Omel was passing by. Suddenly, he faced the window that opened suddenly. Snot-like mucus and foul-smelling feces splattered on his face. Like Oyong, Omel was shocked. He immediately forgot his original intention of asking for fertilizer and switched to cursing instead.

After shouting out various animal names, Omel wiped the ball of phlegm that filled his left cheek, leaving it stuck on his fingers, and rushed through the half-open living room door.

”Kong! Kong! King Kong!” he shouted, furious.

However, Oyong was nowhere to be found, he escaped through the kitchen door. Lintang was perplexed. He broke through the cassava field, twisted through the trees, and sneaked away. He sat behind a tree while hugging his shrinking chest.

Continuous nagging that chases Oyong is not fooled. Knowing where Oyong is hiding, Omel sneaks up, approaching the durian tree with a sturdy trunk. Meanwhile, the slimy phlegm still covers the fingers. Omel wants to mock Oyong's mouth, then stuff the phlegm into it, and complete it with his own phlegm.

Omel hunched over, heading towards Oyong's hiding place, and only then remembered that his index finger had been cut by a sickle the day before. The wound was long, deep, and very painful. However, now the pain was no longer felt. Omel furrowed his brow. While continuing to crawl, he bent his index finger, and it no longer hurt. Omel stopped, straightened his back, and observed the finger that was buried in the clump of phlegm. Then, he widened his eyes. The wound was gone. Even the scar.

That's where the name Lucky Spit comes from.

***

Thanks to Omel's reprimand, the news of Oyong's spit that can cure 1001 types of diseases quickly spread everywhere. Crossing villages, jumping over districts, traversing counties, and who knows where it will go. At first, only one or two people came. Mostly sufferers of ringworm, scabies, eczema, mange, or wounds due to sharp objects. However, as time went by, the number grew. From various backgrounds. With various complaints.

No translation can be provided for this article as it contains the forbidden word "Oyong." Please provide an alternative article for translation.

Oyong's finances are going well. The household furniture is new. The floor is ceramic-tiled. The television is bigger. Dalilah no longer needs to borrow to meet daily needs. The dresses are no longer the same old ones. She wears jewelry on her neck, arms, and fingers.

During the treatment process carried out in the room, Dalilah always accompanies Oyong. Who knows, her husband may need help. For example, fetching something. That's Dalilah's excuse. Oyong himself didn't really matter even though he knew the real reason. Worried that the money from patients would be used by Oyong to gamble.

Dalilah kept those envelopes behind the drawer. She is skilled in managing finances and knowledgeable in calculations, which allows her to protect Oyong from the harassment of people like Omel.

Financial problems have been resolved. However, it does not mean that there are no problems at all. That afternoon, before Oyong could even speak, Dalilah rushed to drag him to the kitchen.

“You can't treat it!” said Dalilah while glaring.

"Why?" Oyong said. "Pity! Home is far away!”

"No way!" Dalilah glared.

"Yes. Why? What is the reason?" Oyong is confused. "I've also treated female patients before!"

”That's not the problem!” Dalilah snapped.

"Then what's the problem?"

Dalilah put her hands on her hips. "Try to explain to me how you treat that patient!"

"Why, how? Yes, as usual. Spit on it then….”

Oyong did not continue his speech. He chuckled while scratching his forehead. Only then did he realize that the college student lying in her room was suffering from breast cancer.

A similar debate also took place a week later. In fact, it was even more intense. At that time, a very beautiful woman came, who had cervical cancer.

***

"Kong, I'm asking for fifteen percent as per the original agreement," said Omel one day. "Your wife is cunning. I was only given ten percent. And even then, I'm not sure if the income report wasn't manipulated."

Oyong did not respond to Omel's rant. Behind the window, his eyes were busy examining the car parked in his house's yard. The numbers and letters on its license plate were unusual. He also carefully observed the guest sitting calmly in the waiting chair. Their clothing was neat, and their face was clean.

"Who is that, Skipper?"

"Therefore, I am asking for additional commission," Omel replied. "Special guest! I have advertised your saliva on social media. I will write it down, it can be used as a charm!"

Omel then explained the name, position, and authority of his guest. He also stated the purpose of their visit. Suddenly, Oyong was bewildered. A request like that was the first time he had encountered it.

"What should I do, Lord?" he asked.

”Do anything! People definitely believe it."

"Is that right, Lord?"

Omel continues to promote the use of Oyong's saliva despite receiving a commission that does not meet his request. The tips that Omel received from the patients he brought were quite substantial, not to mention the bonus if their wishes were granted. For now, Omel has delegated the work of farming, buying rice, turning it into rice, and selling it to his trusted subordinates.

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During elections, Omel's promotion on various social media platforms became increasingly wild: Oyong's blessed saliva could be used to garner sympathy from the masses, facilitate the fulfilment of their wishes, and so on. Those who wanted to be elected as representatives quickly flocked to Oyong's house, and Oyong served them happily. He spat on the photos that would be placed on the ballot papers, choosing the thickest mucus and instructed them to keep it in a handkerchief and bring it during the campaign. He collected the saliva in a used plastic mineral water glass and instructed the respected candidates to smear it on the entrance of the polling station.

***

"Kong, get ready immediately! Bathe! Dress neatly!” exclaimed Omel early in the morning. "We're going to Jakarta!"

"What do you want?" Oyong rubbed his eyes which had not yet fully opened.

"There is someone who needs your services."

"Who?" Oyong yawned.

”A very important person. You'd never have thought," Omel smiled, then pressed his lips to Oyong's ear. Whispers.

"Don't joke, Skipper!" Oyong widened his eyes. His sleepiness disappeared.

"Really, Kong! Oath!" said Omel. "Last night I was contacted by his aide."

"That was the complaint?" Oyong asked for certainty.

"That's right," replied Omel.

Oyong nodded. Shortly after, he patted his left chest as if there was an image of a Garuda bird there. The country is in need of his help. He will surely fulfill it soon.

"High officials who can't make speeches, it's very easy to deal with that!" Oyong said. His eyes seemed to be sparkling.

Kajen, 28 February 2024

Dewanto Amin Sadono, Teacher and Writer Prose. Lives in Kajen, Pekalongan. Several of his works were published in various media and won competitions.