Be careful. A small problem can snowball until it's hard to deal with.
Seven
My landlady looked sour when I went to see her. Maybe she thought I was going to ask for another extension on my rent. But her face immediately brightened when she found out I was going to pay off my boarding-house fees—and move out.
“You know, Stella, I feel sorry for you. An orphan. All alone here. I’ve tried to lower the rent for you, but I need money too, right? As it happens, if you move out today, someone wants to rent that room at the regular price.”
Huh. That landlady was stingier than Scrooge, aka Uncle Scrooge. I’d been given a twenty-five-thousand-rupiah monthly discount so I could stay in that room. Sometimes the roof leaked, the window wouldn’t close properly, and the room was only two by three square meters, including a supertiny bathroom with a squat toilet, one faucet, and a bucket. I knew the other rooms were at least twice the size of mine, and their bathrooms had showers.
I just kept quiet, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. I packed all my things into a dented suitcase—another hand-me-down from my big brother—said a quick goodbye, and hurried toward Zio’s car.
“Whoa, that was fast?” he asked, sounding surprised. I shrugged as I held out the extra money Zio had given me.
Zio shook his head. “Keep it.”
“But…”
“Didn’t you say you needed to pay for your graduation ceremony? Buy a kebaya? And maybe… go shopping?” Zio added hesitantly. “If all your stuff fits in one little suitcase like that, I’m pretty sure you need some new clothes.”
“Thank you. I promise I’ll pay you back from my salary.”
Zio shook his head as he smoothly drove his car toward what I knew was the shopping district. “Don’t worry about it. My fee just came in. Think of it as me treating you to a meal or something.”
I stared at him, speechless. The money he’d offered me was around three million rupiah, you know?
“I don’t know where you usually take people out to eat,” I said softly, not wanting to wake Diva, who was fast asleep, “but to me, a meal that costs around fifty thousand rupiah per serving is already a huge luxury.”
Zio glanced at me, frowning. “Oh,” he said awkwardly.
“I feel bad accepting this much money. I promise I’ll pay you back.”
“Up to you, but I’m considering it a bonus. A gift. Whatever. I don’t expect you to return it. In fact…” Zio reached for his wallet and took out more money, placing it in my hand. “Here. If it’s not enough, just tell me.”
How much money had Zio withdrawn from the ATM earlier, anyway? And what had he just called it?
“A bonus? A gift?”
“You saved Diva earlier. Diva is very precious to me. You stood up for her when I should have been the one to do it.”
Not everything can be bought with money, but money clearly makes all kinds of things easier and takes the pressure off your head. I insisted that Zio take me to an ordinary department store. Normally, I avoided it because I found the prices less than friendly, but it was still better than the mall Zio had suggested at first. I got a beautiful purple Balinese-style brocade kebaya, a matching kamen cloth, and five-centimeter black heels. I also bought lots of new clothes, shoes, and towels. Toiletries. Whatever came to mind. Even after shopping like a maniac, there was still plenty of money left.
Zio looked up at me when I walked toward the children's play area. I smiled as I watched him helping Diva play on the slide. So sweet. If I didn’t know the truth, I could’ve assumed he was an older brother playing with his little sister.
“Done shopping?”
I nodded.
“You’re a practical and efficient person, huh?”
Zio carried all my shopping bags while I carried Diva. “Huh?” I didn’t understand.
“Girls can usually spend all day shopping. My wife…” His voice changed. “Well, while she was still alive, she could go to the mall when it opened and come back when it closed.”
“Jeez. What did she buy that took that long? Was she trying to buy out an entire shipping container?”
Zio shook his head. “Sometimes she didn’t buy anything. She’d just browse or hang out with her friends at a café. Sometimes, when she felt like it, she really could buy a ton of stuff. Sorry. Let’s talk about something else, okay? I… I… don’t want to talk about it.”
Zio let out a long sigh, and I sympathized with him. He must have loved his wife very much. What must it feel like to be cared for and loved that deeply?