A Camera
By Sori Siregar
The camera he was holding was his last hope. His parents-in- law and younger brother had come to visit and would stay for some time. Obviously, he would have to spend more money than usual. It was still a long while before pay day at the end of the month. Unless he could get more money to cover the extra expenses, he would reveal their financial situation to the parents-in-law and the brother-in-law.
"A camera of the EM type like this does not sell easily," a second-hand camera trader told him.
"If that is the case, I'll buy it back later. I need some money now," said Arga.
"The automatic part fails to function," the trader said again.
"Give me a week and I'll buy this camera back," Arga replied.
"It's not easy, sir. You'd better let it go once and for all."
"You said just now that this camera did not sell easily. That's why I give you my word that I'll buy it back soon."
"Complicated matter, I'm afraid, sir."
When Arga said that he would need only Rp 150,000, the trader shook his head. No transaction. Arga left the second-hand camera shop. In a tight spot, he thought hard about how to get some money quickly. It would not be possible for him to get a loan from his office because he had not paid an earlier debt. What's more, the general manager was known to be very tight about spending money.
Arga continued to rack his brains, standing in front of a shop, waiting for the rain to stop. As a matter of fact, even if his parents-in-law and his brother-in-law had not been visiting he would still have needed some extra money to buy their only child his school books.
Of course, now that his parents-in-law and his brother-in-law were staying with them, he would need much more money. Wouldn't he have to take them sightseeing around the town and wouldn't he also have to buy some souvenirs when they left? And, he would also have to buy cigarettes for his father-in-law, a serious chain smoker.
As a delivery employee in a printing shop, Arga earned just enough for the family. That's why his wife had never worn any gold jewelry. If only she had some, it would be his saving grace when he was in dire need of cash. He could leave it at a pawnshop. So it all boiled down to his camera. It was all he had to sell. It was a Nikon of the EM type, a birthday gift from his employer.
Arga loved it dearly. It was sentimentally extremely valuable to him. It was a birthday gift from his employer. Besides, there was an added value because he had used the camera several times to take pictures at wedding parties. With the fees he received, he and his family were able to afford much better meals.
He did not, in fact, want to part with the camera. He only wanted to pawn it, especially after he saw a television commercial in the pawnshop saying that the pawnshop could help solve your problems. He did go to a pawnshop but was told that it could accept only gold and diamond jewelry. Failing to get help from the pawnshop, he -- unwillingly - went to the camera shop. The shop assistant advised him to go to a second-hand camera shop. So, with his heart brimming with hope, he went to one.
Arga still could not think of a way out although he had been standing in front of the shop for half an hour. He lit a cigarette and smoked it deeply. It was pouring with rain and the sound of the falling rain sounded in his ears like a rasping monotonous melody depicting the merciless lives of all sorts of people.
He considered himself to have fallen victim to an unfathomable plot. The owner of the second-hand camera shop did not even touch it when Arga piteously told him that he would need the money for just a week. After a week, he would of course pay back the money and get camera, or so he told him.
Standing in front of the house, he felt a nobody. He was just a number that no one would take into consideration. No one would ever care if suddenly died in front of the shop. The price of a life was so meaningless. The price of a classified advertisement in a daily was higher than that of a life which was considered as a mere number.
He became furious, but at the same time helpless. Where else could he go begging for help? Suddenly a name crossed his mind: Aris, a photographer for a famous media publication in Jakarta. He quickly took out of his shirt pocket a small notebook. After he found Aria's phone number, he went to a telephone booth a few metres away. He called Aris.
He half shouted down the phone because of the torrential downpour falling around him.
"This is Saturday, isn't it? Banks are closed, you know? I only have enough cash at home to buy necessities until Monday."
"You have no ATM card?" Arga asked, shouting.
"No. I've never been interested in having either an ATM card or a credit card. Cards only make us extravagant."
Arga did not think he should continue the conversation. He knew Aris was unwilling to give him a loan, even for a few days. He knew Aris well because Aris often dropped by at the printing shop where he worked. He realized Aris doubted that he might never get his money back. This is what people in Jakarta call being rational, he said to himself.
Why Aris? Why did it suddenly occur to him to phone Aris? Well, he said to himself, replying to his own question, hadn't Aris himself told him that he was transferred from one magazine to this famous magazine for a big sum of money? Just like professional soccer players. And all the transfer money went into his pocket.
So, if Aris, who knew where I worked, could not trust me, who else would? Then he began to evaluate himself. Who can I expect to trust me? This question made him feel meaningless. He was just an element, a dot, a number.
It was still pouring with rain. After some thought, Arga made up his mind to go on seeking money. He put his dear camera carefully into a plastic bag and then he began walking, braving the rain that welcomed him warmly.
Well, he did not go anywhere but home. Empty-handed, he was walking toward his house. About a hundred meters from the bend in the road leading to his house, he stopped. A vendor selling fried items and taking shelter in the front yard of a workshop beckoned to him to do the same. Arga shook his head. He actually thought of approaching this vendor, whom he knew quite well, He was thinking of asking him to wrap for him have a few fried pieces and allow him to pay the next day.
Yet Arga did not realize his intention. Even in a tight spot he could still have his sense of shame. Let the second-hand camera trader be the only person to lower my dignity. I don't want this kind-hearted vendor to hurt my heart, too, he said to himself.
So, he just waved his hand to the vendor and proceeded home. Now he felt that he was getting close to a disaster because of not being able to keep his promise to his parents-in-law and his brother-in-law to take them out sightseeing around Jakarta the next day.
The uneasy feeling that was torturing him suddenly stopped when he heard Syamsudin shout his name in the pouring rain.
"I have been waiting for you two hours. I'm rally worried."
Perplexed, Arga looked at Syamsudin with a big question mark, Syamsudin, the neighborhood chief, asked him to change his clothes first before he told him why he had come to see him.
"Just tell me right now," said Arga.
"Well, the photographer who has been hired to take pictures at the wedding party of Mr. Dasuki's child has been hospitalized with a heart attack. Mr. Dasuki has asked me to contact you. He wanted you to take the place of this photographer tonight."
Seeing Arga speechless, as if not believing what he had just heard, Syamsudin shouted as if giving a command.
"At six you must be at the reception hall. Perform your sunset prayers there. Here is some money to buy the film and here is some more for your fee."
Without waiting for Arga's reply, Syamsudin took his umbrella and turned back.
"Don't forget, at six," he shouted again from the road.
Arga did not say anything in reply. He could not believe what Syamsudin had told him. He could not bring himself to believe that help could come all of a sudden just like the wind. He could not believe that there was still someone who could trust him and need him.
He could not believe that he was not merely a number, a dot, a something. And, he could believe that the next day he could take his parents-in-law and his brother-in-law sightseeing around Jakarta. His promise would be kept after all.