"What's wrong, Mrs. Marjuki?" Mrs. Ayu asked, her face filled with concern.
"Help, Mrs. Neighborhood Chair! My husband fell in the bathroom!" Mrs. Marjuki cried out in panic.
"Oh, dear God..." The three of them begged God for forgiveness at the same time.
"Oh no, what do we do?" Mrs. Astuti, the tiniest of them all, was thrown into confusion too.
She was already picturing herself and her friends having to carry Mr. Marjuki, a big, tall man, because he was a retired law enforcement officer.
"Call any of the men who happen to be home. Tell all of them to come here!" Mrs. Ayu ordered briskly.
"Y-yes, Mrs. Ayu!" Mrs. Astuti and Fadil's Mom immediately split up to look for any men who might already be home that afternoon.
Mrs. Ayu and Mrs. Marjuki hurried inside to check on Mr. Marjuki.
"Oh, God..." Mrs. Ayu could only invoke God's name when she saw Mr. Marjuki sprawled on the bathroom floor.
"Ma'am, may I check his vital signs?" Mrs. Ayu asked for permission. She had once been a member of the Youth Red Cross back in high school.
"Yes, Mrs. Neighborhood Chair. Go ahead," the elderly woman replied, her body trembling.
The aging couple lived alone together. Both of their children lived out of town.
After reciting the basmalah, Mrs. Ayu checked whether Mr. Marjuki was still breathing.
Mrs. Ayu panicked when she couldn't feel any breath coming from the old man.
Still refusing to give up hope, the neighborhood chair's wife searched for Mr. Marjuki's pulse. She could feel it, though it was extremely weak.
"Sir! Mr. Marjuki!" Mrs. Ayu patted the old man's shoulder.
There was no response, but his body still felt warm.
"How is he, Mrs. Neighborhood Chair?" Mrs. Marjuki was already streaming with tears.
"He's still with us, ma'am. Hopefully we can get him help in time."
Mrs. Ayu had barely said this when a crowd of neighborhood men entered the Marjukis' house.
"How is he, Mrs. Neighborhood Chair?" asked Mr. Didik, a medical orderly.
"He still has a pulse, sir. But his breathing is very weak. Please help right away," Mrs. Ayu replied.
Mr. Didik immediately took charge. He verified everything Mrs. Ayu had said.
"A few of you, help me! We'll carry him together to Mr. Giarno's car!" Mr. Didik shouted to the men clustered outside the bathroom door.
The men sprang into action, lifting Mr. Marjuki's large body and carrying him outside.
"Mrs. Neighborhood Chair, what should I do?" Mrs. Marjuki looked terrified.
"Please stay calm. Your husband has BPJS, right? Come on, let's gather everything that needs to go to the hospital. God willing, he'll be all right," Mrs. Ayu said, trying to reassure Mrs. Marjuki, even though she herself wasn't sure she believed her own words.
"But I... I don't have any money on me at all," the woman said, lowering her head as tears began to fall again.
Mrs. Ayu was stunned.
Without hesitation, she reached into the pocket where she'd put the two hundred fifty thousand rupiah she'd earned from her mission earlier.
"Here, ma'am. Hold on to this for now." Mrs. Ayu slipped all the money into Mrs. Marjuki's hand.
"But, Mrs. Neighborhood Chair..."
"If you don't end up needing it, you can return it to me. If you do, that's okay," Mrs. Ayu said with a sincere smile, even though she was already planning to raid her chicken-shaped piggy bank.
"Thank you, Mrs. Neighborhood Chair!" Mrs. Marjuki hugged the middle-aged woman.
"It's okay, ma'am. Come on, let's hurry and get the documents. That way you can go straight to the hospital," Mrs. Ayu urged.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll grab my phone too so I can call the kids." Mrs. Marjuki half-ran into her bedroom.
"You know, I suddenly don't want to have a lot of money anymore, Fadil's Mom," Mrs. Astuti remarked as she and Fadil's Mom, along with the other women from Neighborhood Unit 01, watched Mr. Giarno's car drive away from the Marjukis' house. Mrs. Ayu, as the neighborhood chair, had accompanied Mrs. Marjuki to the hospital.
"Why not?" Fadil's Mom asked. "Didn't you just say you wanted to work harder so you'd have more money?"
"Yeah, I did. But now, seeing something like this, I realize health matters more than money. Even if you have lots of money, when you're sick, nothing tastes good. You want to travel abroad? Can't do it. Want to go shopping? Can't do that either. And getting married again..."
Fadil's Mom let out a small laugh.
"Yeah, you're right. Let's just be grateful for what we have. The important thing is to take care of our health first."
"Yeah, exactly."
And so they all returned to their own homes in an orderly fashion.
"Honey, someone's here to see you!" called Mr. Baskoro, Mrs. Ayu's husband, who served as the neighborhood chair, from the living room.
"Who is it?" Mrs. Ayu asked as she took off her legendary hair rollers.
"Oh, Mr. Ridwan!" Mrs. Ayu greeted her visitor, who turned out to be the son of Mr. and Mrs. Marjuki.
Ridwan respectfully shook Mrs. Ayu's hand.
"Mrs. Neighborhood Chair... the reason I came here is to thank you for helping my parents. If you hadn't been there, I don't know what would have happened to Dad," Ridwan said.
"Oh, no, it's not like that! I was just helping, Mr. Ridwan. I happened to be passing by. And I wasn't alone, either. Lots of people helped out," Mrs. Ayu said, not trying to downplay her actions.
"I know, ma'am. But I still owe you a debt of gratitude," said the sturdy-built man.
"Oh, don't worry about it! The important thing is that your dad is doing better, right?"
Ridwan nodded.
Mrs. Ayu smiled with relief. She had already heard that Mr. Marjuki had regained consciousness. Although he'd suffered a minor stroke, he could still be treated with regular medication.
"Oh, right, here..." Ridwan pulled two hundred fifty thousand rupiah from his pocket.
"Mom told me that you lent her money when she didn't have any on her. Thank you so much, ma'am!"
"Thank God! Jalu doesn't have to be cut open after all!" Mrs. Ayu exclaimed inwardly.
"You're welcome, Mr. Ridwan. I'll take this back, then!" She accepted the money she'd earned from her mission praising Mrs. Siska.
"Yes, ma'am. And this..." Ridwan held out a white envelope to Mrs. Ayu.
"What's this?" Mrs. Ayu's face immediately lit up.
"Just a small token of our appreciation, ma'am."
"Oh, no, you really don't have to! I'm happy to help!" Mrs. Ayu pushed the envelope away from her.
Come on, force me!! Mrs. Ayu pleaded inwardly.
Mr. Baskoro glanced at his wife in disbelief. He knew all too well how money-hungry she was.
"If you really don't want to accept it, how about I give it as a donation for the Independence Day contests? My mom said this neighborhood is holding contests tomorrow to celebrate Independence Day. The money can help buy extra drinks, ma'am."
Mrs. Ayu's body suddenly went limp.
I shouldn't have pretended to be so proud! she berated herself inwardly.
"Oh, if it's a donation for the Independence Day festivities, I'll accept it, Mr. Ridwan!" Mrs. Ayu quickly snatched the white envelope.
"On behalf of the residents, thank you so much!"
"You're welcome, ma'am. In that case, I'll be going. I need to head to the hospital first." Ridwan then shook hands with Mr. Baskoro and Mrs. Ayu.
"You're definitely going to regret that..." Mr. Baskoro teased.
"Oh, I am not! This is for the good of the neighborhood. I'm happy to donate! But... wait, what's this?" Mrs. Ayu brought her phone screen closer to make sure she'd read the message correctly.
[Mrs. Neighborhood Chair, someone stole my laundry!]