Chapter 4 — Half of the Working World (Dim Moon in the Sky)

“The branch manager hit me just because I said I liked him. I’d probably be roasted alive if I asked him to drive me home,” Bulan chewed on a Beng-Beng snack next to Bara.

‘Hit me on the head, Sir... so I can dampen this feeling of love with hatred!’ Bulan’s raspy voice in the recording made Bara’s eyebrows furrow. Bulan continued chewing.

‘You... you,’ Angkasa’s breath hitched.

‘I’m what?!’

‘You’re insane!’

The sound of footsteps followed.

‘If you don’t hit me....’ Bulan’s raspy voice screamed. ‘I’ll assume that Angkasa Putra likes Bulan!’

Bugh!

Bulan stopped the recording on her phone.

“Your voice sounds honest... you like him, don’t you?”

The phone was slid back into her pocket. “My internship grade will be a D if I keep being late. I’m busy; I don’t have time to sit here.”

“Even without a grade, I could make you a permanent employee.” Bara smiled. The Business Deputy handed Bulan a bundle of cash.

Bulan took the money and opened the car door.

“Dara likes him. Everyone likes him. What makes you like him?” Bara asked, stopping Bulan’s movement.

“He’s too good; I want good people to suffer like I do....” Bulan turned to look at Bara. “Wake up, Uncle... Why do you like an old lady who already has a husband? There are plenty of female employees your own age.”

“You’re just a child. What do you know about the safe choice for an affair? A married woman won’t go around exposing her infidelity. They won’t whine when it’s over.”

Bulan stuffed the money into her jacket pocket. “You’d better focus on your work, Uncle. Mr. Angkasa already knows the gratification was your authorization, and he’s seen your photographer. Don’t let Mr. Angkasa get you fired.”

Bulan left Bara, who was gripping the steering wheel tightly. She walked toward the Ketapian Market. The hustle and bustle of people swirled around her. The sun shone, partially obscured by clouds. Bulan stared at the second floor from the parking lot.

“Buy me some capcay, Sir.” Yesterday’s events echoed in Bulan’s head.

“Some other time,” Angkasa’s deep voice resonated; he hadn't even looked at her.

Bulan climbed the stairs and entered the room. Money was shoved onto the table. Bayu winced while holding his wound, staring at the cash; the man chuckled.

“Did Angkasa give this to you?”

“I work part-time. Just write down the rest of my debt.”

“Does he know you’ve hurt people before?”

Bulan looked around. “You know I’m like that.”

Bayu turned, following Bulan’s gaze.

“Don’t bother Mr. Angkasa.” Bulan stared at the knife on the table.

“Do you like him?”

Bulan approached the door. “Yes.”

Bayu’s eyes widened at the answer. The nineteen-year-old man smiled with spite.

☾ ☾ ☾

The door opened. Customers in the waiting room turned as Bulan entered the hallway and put her bag in her locker. Angkasa stopped at the KPI board; his eyes fixed on the back of Bulan’s head. Bulan walked past him.

“The rooster just finished crowing for you, Lan,” Feri glanced at the clock, which showed 9:00 AM.

Bulan turned on the EDC machine. One tap and it flickered to life; she proceeded to upload the pawn letters for monitoring. Angkasa went to the service booth, reading the list of due dates. Feri rubbed gold against a stone, accidentally knocking a pen to the floor.

“Lan, pick up my pen, Lan.”

Bulan’s hands were busy with her phone.

Tuk!

Feri looked down, his face flushing with heat, as he watched Bulan’s shoe kick the pen toward his own shoe.

“You brat, weren’t you taught any manners at home...?” Feri slammed the drawer door hard, causing the customers’ eyes to widen. “How can an intern act like this toward a permanent employee?”

After finishing the upload, Bulan went to the micro team booth. Meanwhile, Feri ruffled his hair. Angkasa, witnessing this, looked at Ratna, who was covering her mouth while counting money.

“What was the problem yesterday, Ratna?”

“Why don’t you ask Feri, Sir.”

“What is it, Fer?”

Feri remained silent and continued serving the customer. Angkasa let out a quiet sigh.

“Feri, I have to meet the Regional Head. Please lower the NPL.”

“Understood, Sir.”

Angkasa stepped out of the branch and approached the security guard, handing him several red banknotes.

“Komang, please buy some snacks for the pantry and lunch boxes for the staff. Keep the change, save it... did Bulan cause any trouble with Feri yesterday, Komang?”

“I’m not sure, Sir... but I think Bulan splashed water in Feri’s face yesterday because of something Feri said.”

“What did Feri say, Komang?”

Komang looked at Angkasa with pity.

“‘If Feri were Mr. Angkasa, Feri would take the bribe and scream in Mr. Bara’s face. Feri isn’t as stupid as Mr. Angkasa, letting himself be belittled by the Business Deputy,’” Komang explained awkwardly.

Angkasa fell silent upon hearing that.

“Isn’t Bulan your cousin, Komang... what is her connection to Bayu?”

“Bulan’s father passed away, leaving a lot of debt to Mr. Merta—Bayu’s father. Mr. Merta has been hitting Bulan since she was a child, and her mother too, because they couldn't pay... I feel sorry for her, but I don’t have much myself, Sir.”

Angkasa stood dazed, patting Komang’s shoulder in thanks. He then quickly left to meet the Regional Head.

The pawnshop was quiet. Feri walked past the micro team booth from the pantry. Hesitantly, the man gave Bulan an order.

“Lan, lower the NPL.”

Bulan didn't answer. She had already sent WhatsApp messages to customers with due dates days ago. Feri clicked his tongue and swaggered back to the service booth with a bottle of water. His eyes widened at the crowd of customers in the waiting room.

“Goodness, I’m shocked, Ms. Ratna... I thought my pawn had reached its due date. I felt so chased.”

“Yes, Ma'am... it’s just a reminder. We’re being monitored by headquarters if customers are late with payments.”

“Oh, I see... who sent the message? The typing is different; it’s short, clear, and very quick now.”

The customer chatted happily with Ratna. Meanwhile, Feri smiled broadly as he offered pawn products while appraising gold. Bulan went to the service booth to collect a stack of pawn letters; her steps faltered.

‘Angkasa’s Locker.’

The purple plastic bag containing the new shoes was thrown into the trash can. The security guard saw Bulan’s face flash with a cold glint.

☾ ☾ ☾

The sun set in the west. After meeting the Regional Head, Angkasa returned to the branch. Feri wore his usual wide smile, while Bulan grabbed her bag and walked toward the bus stop sign across from BI.

“Good afternoon, Sir.”

“Komang told me why Bulan splashed you.”

Feri immediately bowed repeatedly to Angkasa. “Sir, I’m sorry, Sir... I didn’t mean it! You’re the best branch manager! Long live, Mr. Angkasa Putra!”

“I’m not asking for praise or an apology. If you have a grievance, tell me directly. Don’t talk behind my back, so I can reflect on myself.”

“Understood, Sir.”

Angkasa walked to the pantry. He stopped in his tracks when he saw his locker was open. His eyes shimmered with exhaustion as he saw the purple plastic bag was gone.

☾ ☾ ☾

“Where... where are my shoes, Bulan!”

Bulan stopped when she heard her name called. Angkasa was out of breath; his worn-out shoes stopped in front of Bulan.

“Am I not good enough to receive your shoes?” Angkasa demanded an answer.

Bulan stood dazed, looking at him.

“When people treat you well, you should treat them just as well. No more, no less. I don’t want it so that when we meet on the street, you pretend not to know me, and vice versa.”

Bulan didn't say a word.

“Tomorrow, I want to see those shoes back.” Angkasa boarded the Sarbagita bus.

For a split second, Bulan stood frozen, before her dirty shoes quickly boarded the bus as well.

19.00

The red line of the digital clock hung in the bus interior. The traffic moved at a crawl. The lights grew dim, swallowed by the darkness. Angkasa sat next to Bulan. His reflection in the window was filled with the shadows of falling leaves.

“I heard what Feri said.” Angkasa sighed softly. “You shouldn’t have splashed him; this isn't a soap opera... Sometimes people are used to speaking harshly without negative intentions.”

“But thank you... for standing up for me.”

The bus arrived at the GOR Terminal. The worn-out shoes stepped off before the dirty shoes.

“That gratification was a trap... I have never accepted one.”

The dim moonlight sent a chill. The worn-out shoes stepped quickly ahead; the dirty shoes began to match his pace.

“Half of the working world is filled with two-faced people... people bring each other down not for pleasure, but out of fear.”

The road was broken and steep. The streetlights were rusted.

“Fear... of whether they can survive or refuse the pressure themselves.”

Hands were shoved into coat and jacket pockets, enduring the cold that bit at the skin.

“Thank you... for stopping me.”

The moon’s glow shimmered among the stars. Angkasa walked straight ahead, adjusting his bag strap, while Bulan turned into the alleyway.

☾ ☾ ☾

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