"That's all I want to convey through this letter. I hope you understand. Wassalam, Ardi." That was the letter Dad wrote, and I understood why the money order I received this month only contained Rp. 30,000.
I put Dad's letter back in the envelope, then put it in my school bag, then walked out of the main post office to the main road where there were public transportation to take me to my boarding house. Upon arriving at my boarding house, I immediately ate lunch and sat on the floor leaning against the side of the bed, my gaze occasionally looking up at the ceiling, my thoughts in disarray, making me feel a little tense. "If I pay Rp. 20,000 in tuition this month, that means I'll only have Rp. 10,000 left. I won't be able to pay this month's rent, which usually comes every 10th. I don't have any relatives in this city besides Uncle Ramlan," I muttered, making me dizzy thinking about the money my father had just sent.
"I can't possibly meet him at the office, let alone at his house. Uncle Ramlan won't even want to lend me money, in fact, he'll just give me more. I don't want Aunt Dewi to come to my boarding house again, cursing me like before. I'm not a beggar like she said. Maybe I should stop by the market tomorrow after school, who knows, maybe someone will take me on after school. That's the only way to cover my living expenses this month and be able to pay my boarding house rent soon," I muttered again, feeling confident about what I would do tomorrow.
That day, the 10th, after school, I went straight to the office to pay my monthly tuition. As I had planned, I didn't go straight home to my boarding house after returning from the school office. I stopped at the central market in P City, looking for a business that would accept me to work outside of school hours.
I wandered around the central market for quite some time, but I still couldn't find any shops or other places that would accept me. Exhausted, I sat on a bench owned by a vendor selling sugarcane juice. Besides being thirsty, I also felt uncomfortable just sitting there. For 100 Rupiah, I bought a glass of sugarcane juice from the vendor.
As I sipped my sugarcane juice, I looked around. The central market was bustling with people coming and going that afternoon, selling various goods and necessities. My eyes suddenly focused on a small shophouse not far from where I was sitting. Several people were working there, some pulling ice cubes from a box truck and others breaking them into smaller pieces.
After the ice cubes were broken into smaller pieces, some of the people who had finished pulling the ice cubes from the box truck into the shophouse packed the broken pieces into plastic bags. Then, some of them carried two or three plastic bags of crushed ice on their shoulders and carried them upstairs to the central market in P City.
My heart suddenly moved to approach the shophouse. Who knows, maybe I'd be accepted to work there. I quickly finished my sugarcane juice and walked towards it.
"Excuse me, Brother," I greeted the workers in the small shophouse.
"Yes, what's up?" one of the workers replied.
"May I meet the owner of this shop?" I asked.
"The owner of this shop is in the public restroom and will be back soon. You just wait there!" said one of the workers, pointing to a long bench at the far end of the shop.
The shop was relatively small, measuring only 4 x 5 meters, while the shops to the left and right were 6 x 10 meters or even larger. I hadn't been sitting there for long when a man of Chinese descent in his 50s suddenly approached. I sat down on a chair in front of a desk about the size of a bureau. I assumed the middle-aged man was the owner, so I immediately approached him.
"Excuse me, sir. May I ask you a question?"
"Yes, please, son," the middle-aged man said politely.
"Do you own this shop and business?" I asked, having just been invited to sit face to face with the middle-aged man.
"Yes, that's right."
"My name is Ryan, sir. I wanted to ask if you are still hiring workers here?" I asked. The middle-aged man was surprised because I was still wearing my school uniform when I asked.
"Aren't you going to school today, son?" the middle-aged man asked back.
"I just got home, sir. This week I started early, so I left this afternoon," I replied.
"I see. I thought you started late and were trying to skip school," said the middle-aged man of Chinese descent.
"What about you, sir? Are you still hiring workers here?" I asked.
"I'm not hiring anymore. We already have enough workers here. Especially with people still in school like you, son," he replied.
"Please, sir. I work to help my parents who are struggling in the village. They can only send money to pay my tuition, while I live in a boarding house here and my rent is still short this month," I pleaded. The middle-aged man could be heard breathing heavily.
"Are you capable of doing manual labor like them?" the middle-aged man asked, pointing to his workers who were busy working.
"I am capable, sir." I answered confidently.
"Are you capable of lifting those ice shards from here to the top floor of the market stall over there?!" he asked again, pointing in the direction he was referring to.
My gaze immediately shifted to the location he was pointing at, and I thought for a moment...