Just a Servant
Babu

(POV Nurul)

By noon. I just finished helping wash the utensils in the kitchen that the chefs used to prepare lunch.

In this kitchen there are two groups of cooks. One group is tasked with cooking the food of the bosses. Another group is in charge of cooking food for workers, employees, laborers and the like.

For sure the cuisine of the first group of food is more special dong, than the cuisine of the second group. No wonder the servants sometimes scramble a little to clean the tools used by this group, only to be able to taste the little food left in the tool... 😂

If the second group only cooks the standard menu tends to be simple. Only, the number is a lot, because it turns out that if all are collected, there are about fifty people who they have to prepare their food rations. Starting from the workers in the stables, in the fields and in the fields and the servants in the house itself should be.

Not all of these workers are permanent workers. If a job is a lot or must be completed immediately, Mr. Darmawan will usually take additional workers to care for the rice fields and fields. So also to take care of the chicken coop that contains thousands of tails. Therefore, in the big house the atmosphere of the kitchen is never quiet.

Finish cooking for breakfast, continue to the lunch menu, then continue to the dinner menu. No wonder that the servants in the house were also many so that they could change their jobs. Especially for work in the kitchen, such as endless.

Not to mention if there is an event in the mosque or close neighbors. Madam Supami will definitely tell the waiters to make some cooking or some kind of wet cake for the treats present, as a form of shodaqoh from their family.

That is also one of the reasons the servants in this house are happy to work at the family home of Mr. Darmawan. Because even though the salary is small, but their basic needs are guaranteed. And for the maids, working at home is like a free cooking course. Because except for the food of the masters, everyone who wants to learn to cook is allowed to get involved. So learn while working... That's why I love helping out in the kitchen. But why yes? often, I only get the task of washing tools... 😅

"It's okay, while holy I can watch my friends work..." I thought.

I grabbed a handbag hanging from a large kitchen pole to dry my hand that had slightly scratched his finger due to the slowness in the water, when I heard my name called.

"Nur...!" Call someone who, even though he only hears his voice without seeing his face, is able to make my stomach mules.

"Falem, ma'am." My heart immediately turned to look for safety. Do not let any nagging material that can be found by Surti just because my inaction react to his call.

"Nur, take the soup to Miss Silvia's room..." Bu Surti ordered as his eyes got to me who was still standing by the pole while drying his hands.

"To Miss Silvia's room, ma'am?" Manya make sure.

"Yes, should I repeat my orders?" Said bu Surti with both eyebrows swooping almost met.

"Eh? No ma'am." My heart is starting to be alert.

Actually I'm tired. My feet also ache want to immediately sit down selonjor. Especially if while eating a cake that is still warm duh, really delicious like it. I can make a cake because currently in the kitchen is making a cake. He said for an Istighotsah event at the mosque later, just off Maghrib. Duh..it smells really good.... 🤤

"May I deliver it, ma'am? Nurul just finished washing the tools... " Say Tati who was sitting on a long wooden bench while polishing the finished spoons washed, so that it looks still sleek without water stains. He was actually tired of sitting there and wanted to take a walk to relax his legs that had been bent.

I looked at him a little bit hoping. I don't mind sitting there in place of Tati's work polishing metal tools. The important thing is that I can sit for a while while running. Actually, my knees feel really pegel because from earlier sitting folding legs while washing tools.

"What else are you waiting for?" Surti's mom suddenly came back to me. I who had originally noticed Tati's brief conversation and Surti's mom momentarily nodded.

"Nothing, ma'am..." My heart immediately approached the table where the bowl of soup that was still puffing smoke was located, based on silver trays. On top of the tray, beside the soup bowl is available a small bowl complete with napkin and soup spoon.

"It's complete like this, just stay nganterin, why should also tell others... " Gertutuku in my heart.

I immediately raised the bowl of soup and rushed off towards Silvia's mistress's room. It's safer to get away from there before the firecrackers in Surti's mouth erupt. Surti's words sometimes sound subtle, but they are squeaky in the ears....

With my left hand propping up the tray in front of my chest, my right hand knocked on the door of Miss Silvia's room that was already slightly open.

tok tok tok tok

I did not dare to knock too hard, afraid that Silvia's mistress would be shocked to continue to be angry.

"Get in...!" I heard a cry from within.

I slowly pushed the door open wider.

"Excuse me madam... " Greetings, then step in.

I saw Miss Silvia sitting on her bed. His back rests on the headboard, while his legs are slanted. A somewhat elderly mother sat nearby while twitching her legs.

"Loh, mbak Nurul anyway, who delivered his soup... " Silvia said when she saw me enter. I nodded awkwardly. The tone of the mistress' voice sounded sweet. But I became horrified when I saw just one corner of the mistress' lips that were slightly raised as she smiled. There was a cynical impression in his eyes.

"Would you put where the lady's soup is?" I asked who was still standing in front of the door did not dare to go any further.

"Put it on that table, ma'am... " the answer. It sounds like he's emphasizing the word mbak at the end of the sentence. It seemed that he wanted to show the mothers who were spitting on his feet that he appreciated a servant by calling him "the baby". But at once there was a tinge of abuse I guess.

Yes, I know, Miss Silvia called mbak not because of my status as the wife of her sister-in-law, but just as a regular call as a master called her babak-mbak.

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