Ramadan Sky. Nichola Hunter
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It is not permitted to buy a job in this way, but many places will not employ you unless you do so. We cannot ask for our money back if they decide to take the job away later; they will simply deny that any money ever changed hands. This time my mother said that we would not pay, as she had already laid out money for my first job and the man had seen fit to fire me anyway. So I kept looking. I still had a little money and I told myself that everything would be okay.
My father was the lucky one, who could do magic with money and animals. He could buy small things and sell them to people at a higher price. In his memory, I tried to do this myself with the raincoats. I drove a long way to the markets and bought ten raincoats at a cheap price. I tried to sell them to the other drivers in my street, but they all looked at me suspiciously and asked many questions. How much did you pay for this? Why do you want to go shopping for us like a woman? After that I tried at many places for every kind of job. I still had the bike but the payment was two months late. We should pay every month, and if we pay late, they will take extra interest from us. If they don’t get a payment for three months, they will come and take the bike.
One day, on the street, when I only had one week left until the third payment, I met an old friend from my high school. His name was Hidayat, and he was not exactly a friend, but someone who had been in the higher class than me. I only knew him from playing football a few times, but he was easy to recognise because he had a wide forehead and very large ears for which he had been teased by many of the boys and even some of the teachers. I noticed that his ears had not grown smaller with time, as he held out his hand in welcome.
Assalam alaikum, he gave me the greeting from our school times.
He was drinking tea and asked me to join him and after a short time I found myself telling him of my recent troubles.
What if I told you I have a way to give you one hundred thousand right now? he asked.
I protested that I could not borrow any money, but he stopped me before I could finish.
It is not a loan, he said. You will have to earn it, but it will only take a few minutes. We’ll take your bike.
So I drove, while Hidayat sat behind me and directed me to a money changing shop a few streets away. Then he took a twenty-dollar bill from the United States of America from his wallet, and handed it to me. I had never seen one before and I was turning it over in my hands when he said quietly:
Stop acting like a hillbilly or someone will notice. Leave the keys in the bike. Go and change the money and then come straight back.
For a moment, I thought it was a trick, and that he would run away on my bike. He looked at me with impatience.
What are you waiting for?
Hidayat had said that the moneychanger would ask for my ID and then give me the two hundred thousand and some small notes in exchange for the twenty and that is exactly what happened.
When I got back to the bike, he was sitting in the driver’s place with the engine running.
Get on! he hissed.
We drove back to the tea stall where he handed over my share as promised.
Come again tomorrow, he told me. We will try a fifty, but not at the same place.
I told Hidayat that I did not understand why he would want to give me this money. He looked at me for a moment and then spat on the ground and shook his head.
I thought you were the clever one in school, brother, he said. The money is not fucking real. My job is to give you this money, and yours is not to ask me where it comes from, and to get it changed.
This information worried me, because I had used my ID to change the money. What if they found it was a fake later on?
They do not write it down like that, he said, on each note. There is no way for them to do anything now.
We arranged for him to text me in coming days to try again, and I left.
I drove through the heavy afternoon traffic and went straight to pick up Aryanti, to take her for ice cream. I was eager to tell her the whole story, but she was not pleased.
Tell me, she asked. You were not good friends with this big telinga3 in school? Then why does he want to give you all this money? Are you suddenly a brother to him?
I do not know, I replied.
Well perhaps you can tell me this, she said, and she looked very stern, despite her tiny build and the glass of strawberry ice cream she was eating. Who is the person who will be caught with the fake money – you or him?
I did not answer.
If they catch you, you will not find him anywhere. He will drive away on your bike.
You are very clever, I told her, and it was the truth, especially as she was only nineteen years old.
Yes, I am clever, she said. Fajar, please don’t see this man again.
Hidayat sent me many texts the next week but I did not answer any of them, as promised, and after a short time he didn’t send any more. But time was marching past me and there didn’t seem to be any way forward.
Another six weeks had passed without work when, on a steamy Friday afternoon, Aryanti came and asked for me. My heart jumped up when I heard she was there and I hurried outside to find her unsmiling at the gate. I was worried straight away because normally a young lady would never call at a man’s house, especially unaccompanied. She looked pale as she delivered the news: her mother had asked her to break with me because I still didn’t have a job.
I drove her to a place where we could talk without interruption and tried to get her to see sense. Her small brown hand held firmly onto the tea glass and her pretty face was quiet and sad, but she was insistent.
Finally I said: It is you who wants to break with me, not your mother. Lempar batu sembunyi tangan1 Why are you telling me these lies? Who do you want to marry instead of me?
She began to cry a little but did not answer. Then I changed tack and told her I would not accept her request to cut our relationship, because it was a mistake. I would call her the next day after she had informed her mother of this.
Rhamat saw me come in that afternoon. Earlier he had seen Aryanti at the gate and I knew he would be full of questions. He can sniff out bad luck like a cunning dog and would be delighted to rub my face in it, while admonishing Aryanti for her lack of decorum. Only worse would be the kindly advice that would be given by his scornful wife who was holding his arm as I entered. They watched me together, like a vicious animal with four eyes and many claws waiting to pounce.
Even our hopelessly small house was against me as I tripped over an electric cord that someone had forgotten to put away and a plate came crashing down from the table and shattered onto the floor. I tried to find a reason not to smash it all down with my fists: the worn-out furniture and cracked dishes and the toys and clothes that had been carelessly tossed all over the couch where I slept. As soon as Rhamat began to scold me about the plate, I picked up a cup from the table and sent it flying past his ear and into the wall. Then I went out, quickly, kicking over a pile of sneakers at the door. The voice of Rhamat’s wife followed me like a chattering ape as I got on the bike and pulled out past a group of curious children. My throat was strained and tight and I realised that I had been shouting and my face was streaming with tears.
I drove through the traffic for several hours until I was tired and had to stop. I was nearly on the edge of Jakarta by then, at a small warung2 by a river. The people were speaking the language of the Jakarta tribe who were here before everybody else. These people are very rough and