“I’m here. Where are you now?”
“Just wait. I’m on my way.”
That brief phone conversation from thirty minutes ago kept replaying in Arya’s head like a broken record. The bone-chilling night air made his body tremble nonstop beside the dark-blue public minibus he had inherited from his late father. On the deserted road far from any residential area, a thin white mist began to descend, caressing the asphalt. The time on his wristwatch read 2:25 a.m. Western Indonesia Time.
If he followed his heart, Arya would much rather be curled up warmly beneath the blankets with his beloved wife, who was pregnant with their first child. But the crushing realities of their finances had forced the twenty-five-year-old man to take on this absurd job. He had stopped smoking nearly a year ago to make sure they could keep food on the table. The offer from Rama, one of his loyal customers, was far too tempting to pass up. A flicker of bewilderment had crossed his mind—Rama never usually asked to meet this early, let alone in such a remote location that had nearly frozen him solid.
But what did his curiosity matter compared to the relieved smile his wife would wear later? The payment promised this time was enormous, enough to support them for several months and even set aside money for the upcoming delivery. Thinking about his wife’s sweet smile gave him a little warmth amid the cold that stabbed all the way into his joints.
No longer able to endure the night wind’s shivering assault, Arya decided to get back inside the cabin of his public minibus. To drive away the oppressive silence and kill the slowly passing time, he turned on the car stereo and played a recording of Quranic verses being recited. The melodious voice gradually seeped into his heart, bringing him a drifting sense of peace. His eyes slowly began to close as he absorbed every verse, nearly lulling him into a dreamworld—until a loud pounding struck his car window.
Bang! Bang!
“Arya! Open the door! Hurry!”
Arya jolted awake, his senses snapping back in an instant. Breathing hard, he quickly lowered the stereo’s volume and hurried to unlock the door. Rama stood there in the darkness, dressed entirely in black—a jacket, pants, and a hat that concealed part of his face. The man Arya’s age looked extremely tense and panicked, completely unlike the calm demeanor he usually displayed. Without waiting to be invited, Rama immediately climbed inside and ordered Arya to close the minibus door again.
Once they were sitting side by side in the dim cabin, Rama handed over a fairly large wooden box that he had been clutching tightly the entire time. Instinctively, Arya reached out to take its heavy weight.
“This is what you have to carry!” Rama said firmly, his words rapid and forceful. “Make sure you take this as far away from this city as possible, and remember... never come back here again!”
Arya’s brow furrowed deeply. Confusion mingled with a terrible premonition. Cold sweat suddenly trickled down his temples, instantly overpowering the night chill that had tormented him moments earlier. When he lowered his gaze and looked inside the box on his lap, the words suddenly caught in his throat.
Beneath the thick blanket inside the box lay a tiny baby, sleeping peacefully and breathing softly, utterly innocent.
“This... wh-who does this baby belong to?” Arya asked, his voice trembling violently, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the innocent face in his lap.
“You don’t need to know that!” Rama cut in quickly, his voice filled with an unmistakable emphasis. “You have only one task: take this baby far away from here. Don’t take the baby to your city either. It’s still too close and dangerous. If you want to raise the child, go ahead! But you have to leave this area and go as far away as possible!”
Rama stared into Arya’s eyes, his gaze piercing as he conveyed a clear threat. “One more thing: don’t you dare tell anyone about tonight. If even one person finds out, I’ll make sure you and your family never live in peace again! Never show your face to me again!”
“But, Rama... this is a human being, not an object! What if—”
“If you refuse now, the threat still stands because you’ve already seen this baby,” Rama cut him off, leaving not the slightest opening for debate. He then pointed to a thick brown envelope tucked beside the box. “But if you accept, all the money in that envelope is yours. I think it’s more than enough for you and your wife to start a decent new life somewhere very far away.”
Under the immense pressure and the threat creeping through his chest, Arya froze. He looked at the innocent baby in his lap, then at the thick envelope. With few options left, Arya could only nod weakly.
Seeing that response, a faint, unreadable smile appeared on Rama’s face. Without wasting any more time, he gestured for Arya to step on the gas, then climbed out of the public minibus and disappeared into the darkness of the night.