Nara woke up before the alarm went off.
She didn't reach for her phone right away. For a few seconds, she let herself stay in bed and listened to the boarding house beginning to stir. A bathroom door opened. A bucket scraped across the floor. From the kitchen came the sound of a spoon clinking against a glass.
Then she remembered.
Today, she had to take a photocopy of her ID card to the copy shop.
Nara sat up. The room was still dark, but the light from the window was enough to reveal the pile of clothes on the chair. She picked up her phone and opened her notes.
Buy cat food tomorrow. Go to the store tomorrow. Wake up tomorrow. Reply to Raka's message tomorrow. Look for work today. Bring the photocopy of my ID card tomorrow.
She read the last line twice.
Below it, Nara added:
Don't go home today until it's done.
The sentence sounded harsher than she'd intended.
A message from Raka was waiting on the screen.
Raka: Morning. So, are you going to the copy shop?
Nara typed: I am.
She paused, then added: If nothing changes.
Raka replied almost immediately.
Raka: That still means you are.
Nara didn't answer. She slipped her phone into her pocket, then got up to look for her wallet.
Photocopying an ID card cost money, even if it was only a few thousand rupiah. Nara counted the cash in her wallet. There were three ten-thousand-rupiah bills, two five-thousand-rupiah bills, and a few coins. She took out one of the ten-thousand-rupiah bills, then put it back and chose the coins instead.
The coins were enough for the photocopies, but not enough to buy breakfast.
In the kitchen, Sari was brewing coffee.
“You're up?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then eat.”
Nara looked at the table. There was white rice, an omelet, and leftover stir-fried water spinach from the night before.
“I'm in a hurry.”
“In a hurry to go where?”
“The copy shop.”
“The one from yesterday?”
Nara nodded.
“You brought your ID card?”
“I did.”
“Money?”
Nara was about to answer, but Sari had already picked up a plate.
“Sit down. Five minutes won't make the place close.”
“I can eat later.”
“You can. But later doesn't mean you'll eat.”
Nara sat down. Sari spooned more rice onto her plate than Nara usually took for herself.
“Not so much, ma'am.”
“If you don't finish it, give it back.”
Nara ate without arguing. The omelet was a little salty. The stir-fried greens were already cold. Everything tasted sufficient.
In the middle of the meal, Sari said, “If they take you, you start Monday?”
“That was what he said.”
“If the pay is low, don't spend too long looking for something else.”
Nara looked down at her plate.
“What if I find something else?”
“Then take the better one.”
“What if I don't?”
“Then work with what you have for now.”
The advice didn't sound like encouragement. It sounded more like the way Sari arranged things on a shelf: whatever was there got put in its place, and whatever wasn't there didn't need to be thought about for too long.
After eating, Nara washed the dishes. She went back to her room to get her ID card and put it in her wallet. Before leaving, she checked her account balance one more time.
The number hadn't changed since last night.
But seeing it in the morning made the amount feel even smaller.
She walked to the copy shop through the back alley. The sun wasn't high yet, but the air was already humid. In front of a repair shop, a little boy was watering plants with an empty mineral-water bottle. More water spilled onto the cement than made it into the soil.
The copy shop's sign was still readable, just as it had been yesterday.
Fotokopi Sinar Ja.
Nara stopped in front of the door, then went inside.
Hendra was lifting a cardboard box of paper from the floor.
“You came,” he said.
“Morning, sir.”
“Bring your ID card?”
Nara took it out.
Hendra pointed to the machine beside the desk. “Make two copies. One for me, one for you.”
Nara put her ID card into the machine. She had seen people use a copy machine before, but she'd never operated one herself. The buttons had little lights and labels that were partly worn away.
“The green one,” Hendra said.
Nara pressed the button.
The machine hummed. A white light moved beneath the glass, then a sheet of paper came out with a stuttering sound.
Hendra checked the result.
“That works. Now you try.”
Nara put the first sheet into the machine. She pressed the green button again. This time, the paper came out crooked, with the bottom of the ID card cut off.
“Didn't go in far enough,” Hendra said.
“Sorry.”
“It's fine. The machine does that sometimes too.”
He took the paper, turned it slightly, then showed her the mark on the glass.
“Put the line here.”
Nara tried again. The second result was better, though the copy was a little dark.
“When it's busy, you have to be quick,” Hendra said. “But not so quick that you make mistakes. People in a hurry usually come back because they need to fix something.”
Nara nodded.
Hendra took the copy of the ID card and slipped it into a plastic folder.
“You can try starting Monday.”
Nara didn't answer right away.
“Try means I haven't been hired yet?”
“Everyone starts with trying.”
“What if after I try, you decide I'm not a good fit?”
“Then I'll tell you you're not a good fit.”
The answer was honest and unpleasant. Nara liked it better than promises no one could trust.
“Seven-thirty?”
“Come fifteen minutes early. Learn how to open the store.”
“What time do I leave?”
“If there aren't any big orders, five. If there are, when the orders are done.”
“When do you pay?”
“At the beginning of the month.”
Nara counted the days in her head. If she started Monday, there would still be more than two weeks before her first paycheck. The money in her account wasn't enough to wait calmly.
Hendra might have noticed the change in her expression.
“If you need daily money for transportation, tell me,” he said. “It won't be much, but don't miss work because you don't have the fare.”
Nara looked at him.
“I can manage.”
“I didn't say you couldn't.”
“You said if I needed it.”
“Right. If you need it, tell me.”
Nara put the copy of her ID card in her wallet.
“Okay, sir.”
She was about to leave when a woman came in carrying a stack of papers.
“Can this be finished by noon?”
Hendra took the papers. “If you don't add any more.”
“Twenty-five copies.”
“Then it can be done by afternoon.”
The woman laughed softly. Nara stepped aside to let them pass. Hendra picked up the box of paper from earlier and carried it behind the desk.
“If you want, you can watch for a while,” he said. “Don't count it as work.”
Nara stood beside the machine.
The woman handed over the documents. Hendra adjusted the paper size, the number of copies, and the page orientation. He worked without saying much. Whenever the machine made a sound, he checked the first result before pressing the button for the next copy.
Nara watched his hands.
“What if the paper runs out?”
“The light comes on.”
“What if the ink runs out?”
“The machine makes a different sound.”
“You can tell?”
“Eventually.”
Nara nodded. She didn't know whether she wanted to learn or was only looking for a reason to keep standing there.
When the woman left, Hendra handed Nara a few bills.
“This is for the ID copies.”
Nara looked at the money.
“I'll pay.”
“I already included it in the calculation.”
“What calculation?”
“The calculation of someone who might work here.”
Nara wanted to give it back, but Hendra had already turned around to get more paper.
She put the money in her wallet.
Outside, she opened her conversation with Raka.
Nara: I came after all.
Raka: How was it?
Nara: I'm trying the job starting Monday.
Raka: Good.
Nara: Maybe.
Raka: You said that yesterday.
Nara: Because nothing's changed.
Raka: Then I'll say good again.
Nara read the message as she walked toward the convenience store. She didn't smile, but her mouth felt lighter.
Behind the convenience store, the tabby cat was waiting beneath a bench.
This time, it didn't get up right away when it saw Nara. It only lifted its head, then went back to licking its front paw.
“Are you sick?” Nara asked.
The cat closed its eyes.
Nara bought the cheapest food, then sat on the floor near the wall. She poured the food into a container lid and set the ointment beside it. The wound near the cat's ear looked drier than it had yesterday.
Nara didn't reach out her hand.
“Starting Monday, I have a job,” she said. “Maybe.”
The cat came closer and ate.
“If it's real, I can buy you a bowl.”
She thought about the price of plastic containers at the convenience store. A small one might not be expensive, but it still had to be included in the calculation.
“Not now.”
Her phone buzzed.
Raka: Are you at the convenience store?
Nara looked around, even though she knew Raka couldn't possibly be there.
Nara: Yeah.
Raka: I'm passing nearby. Want me to bring you something to drink?
Nara almost typed, Don't bother. Her fingers stopped above the screen.
She remembered their conversation at the food stall. If she didn't want to, she could keep sitting there. Nothing had to be fixed.
Nara: Just bottled water.
Raka: Small or large?
Nara: Small.
Raka: You're still counting your money down to the size of the bottle?
Nara: Yeah.
Raka: Okay. Five minutes.
Nara stared at the last message.
The tabby was still eating. This time, it didn't leave when the sound of a motorcycle stopped near the back door.
Raka appeared carrying two small bottles of mineral water. He gave one to Nara, then sat on the concrete bench.
“One for you,” he said.
“I only asked for one.”
“The other one's for the cat.”
Nara looked at the second bottle.
“Cats don't drink from bottles.”
“Then it's for later.”
Raka opened his own bottle. “How was the copy shop?”
“I'm trying the job starting Monday.”
“Trying?”
“Hendra said everyone starts with trying.”
“He sounds reasonable.”
“The pay is low.”
“What matters is that you have something for now.”
Nara glanced at him.
Raka raised a hand. “I know. Don't say I'm just like Sari.”
“What did Sari say?”
“Work with what you have for now.”
“Then it's the same.”
“It's different.”
“How?”
“Sari didn't say what matters.”
Raka laughed softly. “Okay. I need to learn how to choose my words.”
Nara twisted the cap of the bottle in her hand.
“Hendra said if I didn't have transportation money, I could tell him.”
“And will you?”
“I don't know.”
“Your answer is getting better.”
“Why?”
“You would've said no before.”
Nara looked at the cat beneath the bench.
“I don't want to inconvenience people.”
“Asking for transportation money to get to work isn't an inconvenience.”
“What if I don't get hired?”
“At least you showed up.”
Nara didn't answer.
Raka didn't continue. He let the sound of the cat eating and the hum of the convenience store's cooling system fill the space between them.
After a while, Raka asked, “Want to eat?”
Nara shook her head.
“You already ate with Sari?”
Nara turned toward him.
“How did you know?”
“Your face isn't as pale as yesterday.”
“Is that so?”
“And Sari messaged Dimas.”
Nara frowned. “Why Dimas?”
“Dimas knows Hendra.”
Only then did Nara realize that the job might not have appeared by chance. Sari had spoken to someone. Dimas had spoken to Raka. Maybe even before Nara knew there was a place looking for a worker.
She gripped the water bottle tighter.
“You helped look for this?”
Raka nodded.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because if I did, you might not come.”
“I could've come.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
Raka lowered his head.
Nara watched the cat licking the last of the food from the container lid.
“I don't like people arranging things behind my back.”
“I didn't arrange anything.”
“You found a job for me.”
“I found a place that was looking for someone. You were the one who came.”
“There's not much difference.”
“There isn't.”
Raka nodded. “If you want to be angry, then be angry.”
Nara wanted to be angry. She wanted to say that she didn't need help, that she could look on her own, that everyone was always making decisions for her and calling it concern.
But there was a bottle of water in her hand that she had asked for herself.
And there was money for the photocopies in her wallet that she hadn't paid for.
“I'm not angry,” she said.
Raka didn't smile.
“I just aren't used to being told after everything's already happened.”
“I can tell you sooner next time.”
“If there is a next time.”
“If you still want one.”
Nara looked at him. Raka seemed serious, but he wasn't asking her for an answer.
The tabby stood and walked toward a stack of cardboard boxes. Before leaving, it glanced back at Nara.
“It's starting to recognize you,” Raka said.
“Not necessarily.”
“It didn't run away.”
“Maybe it was just full.”
“Then you gave it enough of a reason.”
Nara looked at the leftover food in the container.
The sentence sounded like it was about the cat. But she wasn't sure that was all it meant.
They walked out together. In front of the convenience store, Raka stopped beside his motorcycle.
“Want me to take you to the store?”
“I don't need to go to the store.”
“To the boarding house?”
“It's close.”
“Okay.”
Raka put the bottle of water into Nara's bag before she could refuse.
“Don't carry people's things without permission.”
“It's water.”
“That doesn't mean you can.”
“You can give it back tomorrow.”
“You're working tomorrow.”
“If I end up working.”
“Then the day after.”
Nara almost smiled.
Raka started his motorcycle. “Message me when you get there.”
“I'm not a kid.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
“I still want to know.”
Nara stood at the edge of the sidewalk until Raka's motorcycle disappeared. After that, she went back to the boarding house at no faster a pace, but it also didn't feel as heavy as it had when she'd left that morning.
Sari was folding clothes in the common room.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Starting Monday.”
“You got the job?”
“I'm trying it first.”
Sari gave a small smile. “All right. Try it first.”
Nara was about to go into her room when Sari tucked a few clothes into a basket.
“Do you have work clothes?”
“I have a shirt.”
“Black pants?”
“One pair.”
“Wash them tonight. Don't wait until tomorrow morning to remember.”
Nara nodded.
In her room, she took a blue shirt from the closet. The collar had faded, but it wasn't torn. She washed it with the black pants, then hung them to dry behind the room.
The sky was beginning to darken. The yard light came on, drawing a few small insects around it.
Nara checked her account balance. She put the money Hendra had given her for the photocopies toward transportation. It didn't change much, but now she had enough for several trips to work.
She wrote on a sheet of paper:
Monday: arrive at 7:15. Bring ID card. Bring water. Don't forget to eat.
She set the paper beside her phone.
A message from Raka came in while she was washing a glass.
Raka: Did you get there?
Nara replied: Yeah.
Raka: Cat food tomorrow?
Nara: Tomorrow too.
Raka: You'll be busy starting Monday.
Nara: The cat doesn't know my work schedule.
Raka: You can explain it.
Nara: It doesn't listen.
Raka: Maybe it's like you.
Nara stared at the screen for a long time.
She typed: Don't compare me to a cat.
Then she added: Cats are easier to feed.
Raka replied:
Raka: That's true.
Nara laughed softly. Her voice sounded strange in the cramped room, as if it had come from outside.
That night, she ate rice with the leftover omelet from the morning. When she finished, she opened her notes app.
Buy cat food tomorrow. Go to the store tomorrow. Wake up tomorrow. Reply to Raka's message tomorrow. Look for work today. Bring the photocopy of my ID card tomorrow. Don't go home today until it's done.
Nara crossed out the two lines that were no longer necessary.
Look for work today. Bring the photocopy of my ID card tomorrow.
Below them, she wrote:
Go to the copy shop Monday.
She looked at the sentence.
The job wasn't certain yet. Hendra could still change his mind. The machine could break. She could arrive late, put the paper in wrong, or not be able to stand all day.
But Monday had a shape now.
There was a time. An address. A shirt hanging out to dry. Transportation money in her wallet.
Before going to sleep, Nara turned off the light and left her phone charging beside her pillow. Raka's last message was still open.
Raka: Good night. Don't forget breakfast on Monday.
Nara replied:
Good night. I'll try.
A few seconds later, Raka answered:
Raka: That's enough.
Nara set her phone down.
Outside, someone closed the gate. A motorcycle passed, then its sound slowly faded at the end of the street.
Nara thought about Monday.
For the first time since losing her job, she didn't have only something she needed to do tomorrow.
She had something that might still be there after tomorrow.