Chapter 3 Luxury Home

Early March 2013

I was standing under the Trembesi tree in a Chinese cemetery. For decades this place has become a gathering place for women who used to peddle themselves. Since a month ago I have a special customer, a rich businessman. Usually his driver will pick me up and take me to meet with his boss at his house or branded hotel.

Sari, who had been sitting on one of the gravestones, walked up to me. Sadly, she hasn't gotten a single call yet. Because, I haven't heard the Manusia Bodoh song as her cell phone ringtone.

"Gees, I yet receive a single call. I've been so often uploading sexy photos on Facebook."

"Not a lot of people got money now days."

"Day after day, I only get kuota from little kids that I knew from the social media."

"How come?"

"Chat sex and phone sex."

"Greedy, ha ha."

Sari smirked.

Our conversation had to end because a black luxury sedan stopped right in front of me. My customer's chauffeur has arrived. Before leaving, I gave Sari a bill with a picture of Soekarno-Hatta in it, as a form of solidarity as fellow night workers. She currently off client, at least the money will be able to sustain her life for the next day. Well anyway, it was Sari who introduced me to this fast-money job.

"Come in, Miss. The master has been waiting for you for a long time. I am little bit late because I had to queue at the gas station," said the driver who was wearing a white shirt and black pants. Every day he looks like that. Maybe Mr. Hendrik's work rules require him to wear the same colored clothes from day to day.

"Yes, Sir," I replied as I entered the car.

I wasn't a member of Pak Hendrik's family or as an important guest in that mansion so the driver didn't open the car door. Such treatment is only for big people, not parasite like me.

The car runs pretty fast, but didn't feel the shock. That because the driver is an expert and the car has a good engine. I've seen on the internet the price of this kind of car can ranges from eight hundred million to two billion can be more. Want to sew until the legs swollen this vehicle will never be bought by me.

"May I ask you a question, Miss Kantil?" the driver started the conversation.

"Yes. Why? Don't call it that. Just call me by Kantil. It will be simpler," I asked the driver. It's been a few days since I wanted to say that, but forgot.

"Okay. Have you been working like this for a long time, Til?"

"No. I do it since I get divorce from my ex-husband about a few months ago."

"Oh. So you were married, huh?"

"Of course, yes."

"How do you know Mr. Hendrik?"

"I'm a peddler, he's a buying man. Of course we met."

Through the rearview mirror, I saw the sharp-nosed driver nodding. From his face, this man's age is younger than me, maybe around twenty-seven years or so.

"Sorry, if I want to ask again. As you can see, I'm a curious person." The driver named Marzuki chuckled.

"Just ask, I'm not your boss. Even if your question offends me, you won't get fired."

"The jokes on you. Why did you decide to work like this? Sorry, if my question is very presumptuous."

"For paying the divorce, I sold a sewing machine and an over lock machine. Those were the tools I previously used to make money. I thought at that time the important thing was that I could get out from that savage man. It turns out so tough to look for money now days. I have my mom and my 10 years old daughter with me. I can't just stood silent while my debt hunting me."

"By that time I went to Sari, an old school friend whose life is more prosperous now. My intention was to borrow her money to pay off the debt in the shop. I am not get the money. In the other hand she even offered me a job like her. After I think about it I'll go with her. It's seems like better now."

"What if your ex-husband finds out? Don't you feel ashamed?"

"My ex-husband went back to Ngawi. No, I don't think so. The last news I heard he came back to my village and rent a house there. But, I don't know, I less care about it anyway. Nobody in my village will knows, because the journey by motorbike from here to my village for about two hours. It's quite far, isn't it?"

Marzuki nodded again.

"Doesn't Mr. Hendrik have a wife, right? But why every time I went there I did not meet her?"

"He has. His wife has gray eyes. She's about a hundred seventy centimeters tall and has white skin. Half-Indonesian-Dutch."

"She must be beautiful, right? How come I never meet her?"

"So beautiful indeed. She just doesn't want to meet you."

Marzuki's answer made me ponder. Is it true that there is woman who is silent when she knew that her husband bring other woman to the house? I was so curious that I asked Marzuki.

"I don't know about that, Til. Rich people have their own thought. Not like us. It's like we are crawling on the ground, but they can split the sky," he replied. The man seemed reluctant to discuss about his boss personal life.

"Then if he has a beautiful wife why is he still look for other woman?" I just getting curious.

"I don't know, Til. For me, the most important thing is just to do my work, obeying the boss' orders, and getting paid. I don't care about their family matters."

It's true what Marzuki said. Rich people have their own mind. It is difficult for little people like me will understand. If I could understand the mindset of those people, I would be rich like them.

Without realizing it, we had arrived at the courtyard of this magnificent three-story house. So far, I've only been to one room, namely Pak Hendrik's room which is behind the big stairs. I am yet been to the second and third floor. Maybe his wife stays in that floor. That means I have to be more careful from now on.

I stepped on the dark-floored veranda, while Marzuki took the car we were driving in to the underground parking lot. I am yet know the underground parking lot look like.

It wasn't until I rang the bell that the door opened. A waiter in white and black pants asked me to come in. Even though it's been a month since I entered the house, I still don't know the maid's name. Maybe, I can ask that later. Now the important thing is that I have to go to the room near the living room.

The rule is that before I meet with Mr. Hendrik at his room, I have to change clothes in that room. The clothes were already prepared in a glass cupboard which is two feet long. This time I chose a black knit dress with a low slit. I sprayed the perfume that also been prepared, after it walked gracefully toward Mr. Hendrik's room. The house was completely deserted. Who would have thought that his wife also lived in the same roof.

Arriving at the door of the tall man's room, I knocked on the door. Without waiting for an answer I entered. Mr. Hendrik room. One month with him I started to get to know the man's character.

"You have arrived?" he greeted as he got up from the bed. Today the brown-skinned man was wearing dark blue pajamas.

He walked closer; I put a smile on my face. He was getting closer, my heart was pounding. The scent wafted into my senses of smell even though our bodies were still a few steps apart. If he wasn't a handsome man, this job would be disgusting for me.