Confession

By M. M. Bhoernomo

Mbak Parti sent Rp 1 million to her mother by bank draft with a note: "Starting next month I will be sending you one million rupiah every month."

Holding the bank draft, mother sat, reclining on a chair in the living room. She seemed dejected and trembling, unhappy to receive such a huge amount of money. Her eyes revealed that she was clearly perturbed.

"Perhaps Mbak Parti has received a two-fold raise in her salary, Mom," I said, trying to appease her.

"Impossible. In this monetary crisis, it's very improbable that companies would raise the salaries of their employees twofold!. I am afraid that your older sister has gone astray."

"Gone astray? What do you mean Mom?" I asked, frowning.

"I'm worried your sister has followed in Srini's footsteps."

I was aghast at her remarks. I knew Mbak Srini had become a prostitute in Jakarta. At first, Pak Kadus' daughter went to Jakarta to look for a job and she got one as a waitress at a shopping mall. However, dissatisfied with the meager salary she received, she then sold herself. Then after becoming a prostitute, she regularly sent one million rupiah by bank draft to her parents in the village and always came home in a nice sedan a few days before Idul Fitri festivities.

And during her stay in the village, she gave away Rp 10,000 notes to the children in her neighborhood. Perhaps with that money, Pak Kadus has managed to have his house renovated. Now it has two floors.

"Drop your sister a line immediately. Ask her if she still works at the office. Ask her, too, where she got the one million rupiah she sent us from," Mom instructed.

I wrote the letter and sent it by registered mail. I told my sister to reply as soon as possible.

A week later her reply arrived. As Mom cannot read, I read the letter to her.

"I am still working for the same company, but now I am moonlighting and gets lots of money from it. I send some of the money that I make from my extra work to mom," her letter read.

With her eyes misting over, Mom listened attentively.

"Write her another letter now and ask her about the moonlighting," Mom ordered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Again, I complied. We received her reply after another week elapsed. I read it to mom in the living room.

"My second job is selling perfume from one office to another. It turns out that many company directors are interested and some of them have even become my customers," her letter said.

Then her letter ended with:" Wish me luck so that I can make more additional income and send more money to the village."

Mom sobbed uncontrollably after hearing me read the letter.

"Why are you crying, Mom? You should be happy because Mbak Parti has a second job that gives her a lot of money," I protested. "Our house is old and it needs renovating, doesn't it?"

"I would prefer to live in poverty than to let your sister lead a life of loose morals. I want her to be a good girl."

"Are you saying that Mbak Parti has the same profession as Srini?"

"I am only worried."

"But Mbak Parti told us she is still working for the same office, she didn't say she was selling her body, did she?"

"Don't you believe her?"

I took a deep sigh. Suddenly I too began to feel suspicious.

Mbak Parti may be lying. She may be following in Mbak Srini's footsteps. Had she really become a prostitute?

The following month, Mbak Parti sent mom another bank draft of Rp 2 million. Mom was not happy to receive it, though. She became even more suspicious about my elder sister and burst into tears.

Mom could not help feeling worried.

"Write a letter to your sister and tell her to come home. Tell her that I am seriously ill," Mom said, wiping her tears.

"Why are you lying to Mbak Parti, Mom?" I protested. As far as I remember you have never lied to us. You always advised us to be honest with everyone.

Mom sobbed uncontrollably. She looked worried and dejected.

"It's all right, Mom. You don't have to worry about her. She is a grown up now. Moreover, Mbak Parti is not the type of girl who always gives up easily," I said, consoling Mom.

Mom remained silent for days. As if she were fasting, she refused to eat or drink. A week passed and she fell ill. She developed a fever. She remained silent, not uttering a single word.

I was sad and perplexed. There were only the two of us in the house. Luckily, I had already graduated from senior high school so I was able to keep Mom company.

"Take this medicine, Mom," I said, persuading her to take the medicine for her cold I had just bought.

Mom remained silent, her eyes closed.

"If you don't want to take any medicine, I'll take you to the doctor now."

I was sad and confused. Suddenly I remember my late father. If he were still alive, Mom would not be like this. And Mbak Parti would not have to go to Jakarta to work. Father would not have let her go to a faraway place. As a farmer and a rice merchant, father would have been able to feed the whole family.

But destiny had its own course. He left us after suffering from dengue fever and Mbak Parti went to Jakarta to find a job with only her senior high school diploma. She argued that she did not want to burden mom. She wanted to be on her own and help Mom financially.

I was still sad and confused. Mom's condition was getting worse as a result of her refusal to eat and drink. She even refused my offer to take her to the doctor. It seemed as if she were tired of living.

I did not want Mbak Parti to blame me. I sent her a cable asking her to come home at once because Mom was seriously sick.

The next morning, Mbak Parti came home in a car. She burst into tears when she saw Mom lying in her room.

"Mom doesn't want to eat, drink or take medicine, Mbak," I said crying.

Saying nothing, she just took Mom to hospital.

At the hospital, Mom was taken to the emergency unit. I said to Mbak Parti, "Mom is sick because she has been worried about you.

Mbak Parti took a deep breath.

"Mom is worried that you are just like Mbak Srini."

She gave me a sharp gaze. "What about you? Are you suspicious of me too?"

I did not answer her question but gazed at her. I could see from her eyes that she was trying to hide something.

"You don't have to worry so much about moral values. If you want to make lots of money, you have to make sacrifices," she whispered.

I was astounded. "So now you are ...?"

"Yes. Now I'm no longer a virgin. But I'm not a whore like Srini. I am only a mistress of a rich man," she whispered in a firm tone.

I was shocked by her words. Tears began streaming down my cheeks.

"I am now living a happy life in Jakarta. I have a two-story house. And you can see for yourself that I came home in a car. Do you know how much it costs? Nearly one billion rupiah," she said proudly.

I was still dumbfounded, tears filling in my eyes.

"This is a secret but I feel that I need to confide in you. The rich man who made me his mistress was formerly an important official. He has given me a house and a car."

"If that is so, you have lied to Mom and me," I protested, wiping my tears. "So Mom was right, after all."

"But I am not a whore like Srini."

"What's the difference between a prostitute and a mistress?" I argued, sobbing.

"You are stupid. You can't tell the difference between a prostitute and a mistress. A prostitute serves many men but a mistress must be loyal to the one who keeps her. Idiot!" Mbak Parti blurted out.

Suddenly I felt disgusted with Mbak Parti. Then it flashed through my mind that her man was a hardened corruptor and Mbak Parti had become as corrupt as her man. I was sure if Mom knew about her, her condition would become even worse.

Suddenly a stony-faced nurse came out of the emergency room saying: "Please be strong. We tried our best but your Mom was in a very bad condition. God had His own plan."

I wept and wept. But strangely enough,Mbak Parti was smiling broadly.

Translated by Faldy Rasyidie

Note: Mbak means elder sister in Javanese