The food provided by Mr. Norman, the village head, is absolutely delicious. They even serve rendang—not chicken rendang, but beef rendang. Wow, so much. There's also fried catfish, complete with chili sauce—just choose your choice. There's jengkol rendang and jackfruit rendang, and there are other side dishes too. This is a complete portion.

Roni, who was in line in front of me, didn't finish his selection for a long time. He took everything one by one, even though it was a little bit, but he wanted to try everything.

Jono was different. His love for literature was so intense that he even counted the dishes like "cap cip cup." That children's song about who's on guard duty. Remember? Here's the song: "cip cap cip cup," "bunga kembang kembang," "pick which one to sip." Oh my, choosing food instead of choosing what you like, you're choosing what gets the cup.

My friends are really cool here.

Roni's finished. If I had so many choices, I'd have to choose from this. It's better to just choose the most delicious beef rendang. Why try so many things one by one? It's better to choose the most expensive and delicious ones. It's less of a hassle.

One more thing, let me teach you, if you're eating at a buffet. Just go back, the rice becomes the side dish, and the side dish becomes the rice. What do you mean?

So, like this, when we eat at home, there are a few side dishes and lots of rice. Now, at a buffet, we just go back. There's little rice and lots of side dishes. Well, if you take a lot of rice at a buffet, what's the point when there's plenty of rice at home and few side dishes? That's why someone complained when I finished choosing.

"Mr. Adnan, are you on a diet? Why is there so little rice?"

He... he... he... I just said yes. There are lots of side dishes, so how can you be on a diet? Whether they mock or praise me, I'll just let them be. The important thing is that they're eating well this time.

When the meal was over, it was almost noon. It was the entertainer's turn to entertain the crowd. There was a special MC for the music event, a man who often performed at organ music events. He opened the show with enthusiasm and a joke that was actually quite dry, but everyone seemed to agree with it.

It wasn't really him they were waiting for, but the singer. The singer who was ready to accompany them in singing, and I actually hate organ shows and songs like this. I don't know why I dislike it. But I endured it for a while, because it would be midday prayers soon, and I had to get ready for work.

The entertainment MC called out in his usual MC tone. He was calling our famous singer, he said. "Ms. Murni."

Everyone cheered and clapped, and a woman came onto the stage from behind the curtain. She was quite sexy, her body perfectly formed for a woman. But I knew who she was. She was Ms. Murni, a beautiful widow in our village whose hobby was singing.

She took the stage and began to sing. This time, she was sure to receive plenty of donations, as usual.

I finished at the village hall and said goodbye to Roni. Roni said he wanted to watch a little longer, and Jono followed me home. He was also going to work this afternoon. We passed some chairs and went through the back, then out of the village hall.

"Why are you going straight home, Jono? Don't you like dangdut music?"

"Half like it and half dislike it, Boss."

I forgot who I was talking to, but Jono always had a strange answer. Ask him why it was strange, how could there not be a half-like-half-dislike answer? Is it normal for someone to answer half-healthy and half-sick when asked if they were healthy? Or when asked if they were dead or alive, he answered half-dead and half-alive.

I touched my forehead, "Okay, Jono, see you at our work base."

"Okay, Boss!" Jon replied loudly.

Now this is it; an answer like this is pleasant to hear. It means the answer is clear and doesn't cause any more headaches.

"Boss! Let's go home together again, okay?"

Jono still had time to say that as I started the motorcycle and was about to leave. Was he still afraid of ghosts? Ah! How long will this mystery last? Let my village be brave. Don't just be brave during the day.

Hmmm... I sighed and started my motorcycle. Ready to get back to work.

@ @ @

At the factory, it's business as usual. Although I'm the foreman, I'm also a laborer. I accompany Mr. Ranu, Jono, Bondan, Woko, and the others. Some women only select and sort the palm oil. Usually, when the palm oil arrives, it's simply weighed in the car and then dumped out.

Before it goes to the mill, a lot of it is scattered, and the women collect the remaining pieces. They also collect the kernels, the small part of the palm that's most expensive for making international-standard oil and is only for export. We get the kernels, so the oil we sell on the market is actually ordinary oil compared to the kernels, which are the best oils from the palm fruit.

"Didn't you go to the village hall, Mr. Ranu?" I asked Mr. Ranu. He hadn't been there. Perhaps he was busy at home.

"How did you come, sir?" Sinta interrupted, sorting the palms that had fallen off their bunches. "What's wrong, Miss?" Ms. Sinta herself was a mother of one child, and her husband, Aji, also worked here.

Ms. Sinta stared at me for a moment, "His wife definitely forbade it, especially since there's that beautiful widow, the sexy Miss Murni!"

I was shocked. Was that really true? I thought to myself, afraid of offending Mr. Ranu.

"Ah! That's a lie, Mr. Adnan. How could my wife forbid me from going to the village hall? I'm tired from working at the factory, so I should just rest at home."

Oh, I nodded.

"That's a lie, Boss Adnan! What Ms. Sinta said is true:" Now, Ms. Ratih, who was older than Ms. Sinta, joined in. "Mr. Ranu's wife is jealous; she's my best friend. That's what Mr. Ranu does when he sees the beautiful widow, Ms. Murni. His eyes widen and won't blink!"

Mr. Ranu's eyes widened in Ms. Ratih's direction. Oh dear, this could be another war. The daily target isn't even far off, and there's another war going on. I'm their foreman, and they're all so inconsistent. In the end, if we don't meet the daily target, I'll definitely be the one getting scolded by the factory boss.

"Enough! Get on with work, if we fight, we won't meet the target, and we'll be asked to work overtime. Then we'll pass the old house at the end of our village road..."

Finally, no one listened to me anymore. Everyone immediately fell silent and went back to their work earnestly. It was a good thing they were afraid of the old house, even though it wasn't actually a good thing. Grandma Pati was a good person, and even her house was now rumored to be haunted, with rumors saying her spirit was wandering around.

I was wrong again for spreading that strange rumor. I regretted it.

"Okay, everyone! Get on with your work so you can get home soon, and don't be afraid of the old house. Grandma Pati was a good person; she couldn't possibly be a ghost!"

Whether they heard me or not, it was a defense for my earlier rudeness. If possible, everyone should understand that we as humans shouldn't be afraid of demons or ghosts.

"But, Boss!" This time, it was Jono who spoke.

"What's wrong, Mr. Jono?" I replied quietly and calmly.

"Someone has met and told me that they met Mbah Pati's spirit. At that time, it was Mr. Mukri. He met her spirit directly at sunset, and she hadn't returned home yet, while he was irrigating his rice field near the row of bamboo trees surrounding Mbah Pati's house with a machine."

Everyone around us seemed to be listening, as they were working slowly. Were they also afraid of the same thing and confirmed the story?

"That's right, Boss...! The spirit..."

"Enough! How did Mr. Mukri know it was Mbah Pati's spirit? Did the ghost have the same face as Mbah Pati?"

Jono shook his head, "So the story goes like this, Boss! At that time, Mr. Mukri hadn't returned home yet because he was just a little while away from irrigating his rice paddy near the row of bamboo trees. Then, a voice came from behind him. The voice said, 'Go back, Kri!'" Jono paused for a moment. He held the back of his neck, seemingly frightened or perhaps even having the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Our coworkers also listened intently, some even shuddering and visibly shaking their heads as they sat or stood. They were all probably scared, but they listened to Jono's story nonetheless.

"So... what happened after that?" I asked, curiously. "Did Mr. Mukri see Mbah Pati after he looked back?"

Jono lowered his voice slightly, "That's not it, Boss! So, Mr. Mukri used to be quite close to Mbah Pati, and he knew her voice very well. And then, he started to get scared, and he hesitated when he wanted to look back. At that moment, Mr. Mukri's body was shaking, and he almost fainted. Then he asked if he should look back or not, and then..."

"That's enough, Jono! Look, everyone is listening to you; they're all scared. Tell me what happened after he looked back! Don't beat around the bush!"

"Yes, Boss, I'm sorry," Jono held out his hands in front of me in apology. "When I looked back, there was a white shadow behind the tree. They said it was dark and dim, and there was fog. He was wearing white, and it was a shroud, Sir!"

Everyone else stood on tiptoe and shuddered; they had all been listening intently to Jono's story. I was the only one remaining silent and deep in thought, and I didn't even tiptoe like the others.

While the others were terrified and shuddering, I was having a strange thought. Why was Mr. Mukri telling me that he'd met Mbah Pati's spirit? He'd said it was a shroud (pocong) he'd seen.

"Wait, Jono, a minute," I extended my right hand, signaling Jono to listen. "My question is, how can Mr. Mukri be so sure that the ghost who scared him at sunset was Mbah Pati's spirit? Didn't you just say it was a shroud dressed in white?"

Jono exhaled quickly, as if he wanted to answer my question with absolute certainty. "That shroud is definitely Mbah Pati's spirit, that's what Mr. Mukri said. Mr. Mukri was one of the people who frequently spoke with Mbah Pati during her life. So, Mr. Mukri must understand that."

"Okay, but what's the proof? Was the face of the shroud ghost visible, and did it look like Mbah Pati?"

Jono thought for a moment, "So it's like this, Boss! When I asked, and Mr. Mukri told me, he said the shroud was wearing a peci..."

"Pffttt!" I held back my laughter, almost bursting out laughing because it was so unexpected. I almost couldn't hold myself back and hit Jono's shoulder because it was so funny, and the dance wasn't funny at all. However, when I saw Jono's serious face, I stifled my laughter and tried hard to hold it in. A shroud-wearing a peci?

"Okay, Jono..." I could barely hold back my laughter any longer, "So, why is there a shroud-wearing a peci, and is it a white peci or a black peci?" The more I tried to hold back my laughter, the more I struggled to speak. I kept holding back my laughter because Jono still had a serious expression. Oh well! That's Jono, one of the workers under my supervision; humor and seriousness are no different. Jono shrugged again and tried to explain, "The pocong wears a black peci, Boss! That's a story from Mr. Mukri, and when Mbah Pati was alive, he never took off his black peci. So, Mr. Mukri was so sure the ghost was Mbah Pati's spirit. He clearly remembered what Mbah Pati looked like during his lifetime, including his voice and his peci. So... the ghost must be like Mbah Pati, always wearing a black peci. That's Mbah Pati's signature ghost trait, a pocong with a black peci!"

I nearly fainted from his words. Jono's story was truly the most special ghost joke in the world. If horror and ghost film producers knew this, they would surely be inspired.

The title of their latest film is "Arwah Pocong Berpeci," and it tells the story of an old man who died alone in his house and always wore a peci. He went around scaring the living while wearing a peci while wearing a shroud or his shroud outfit.

I slapped my forehead!

Oh God! Why is there such a ghost joke? A ghost wearing a black peci, and the peci is black, and this is like a TV screen from the 80s, black and white. The ghost is black and white. Masyaallah!

"Okay, Jono! Let's get back to work. We have to meet the target if you want your bonus!"

Everyone went back to work and refocused.

"But sir," Jono said, "you believe there's a pocong wearing a black peci, right?"

If I had a super kick, I would have kicked Jono right now, and the factory walls would have collapsed under his body. Oh God... please be patient with me...