Sun, 24 Sep 1995

The Fourth Con Man

By Ahmad Tohari

He was the third con man who came to me today. Looking hungry and tired, the man, whom I just met, asked for some money. He said he had to go home to Cikokol to see his sick son there. But, he said, he could not go unless I would be generous and kind as to give him his travel expenses.

I did not really give it a thought whether there was a village by the name of Cikokol or whether it was true that his son was ill, or even whether by giving something I would become a generous person. I just gave him the money. Soon, Rp 1,000 changed hands, from mine to his.

In return I received a lot of praise and prayers of blessings. After giving me a deep bow, the man walked out of the yard and headed towards the bus station.

Earlier this morning a woman knocked on my door. She gave the impression of being a righteous woman and came to me asking for a donation. She said she was sent by a foundation in charge of an orphanage in Banyuwangi. She showed me some sealed documents as evidence of her identity. Eventually she said the foundation which sent her was in urgent need of financial support. Without it she said the orphans would be more miserable.

Without giving a thought to whether her story was true or not, whether the documents she brought were fake or not, I complied with her request. I handed over Rp 1,000 and in return received praise and prayers.

I saw a sparkle in the woman's eyes. Perhaps she was happy because she suspected that I did not know how easy it was to make a fake stamp and how far Banyuwangi was from my house. Or it could be that she thought I was a person of virtue because I suspected nothing of the person I just met?

Soon after the woman left, there came another guest. This time it was a man who impressed me with his look of innocence. He brought a long package of dusters and four kitchen knives. According to the man, the goods were made by disabled children in Surakarta. He offered them to me at prices -- to my knowledge -- three times higher than normal.

"Well, Sir. What prices should I offer when we think of the fate of those disabled children?"

"You're right. The total price of those goods you bring is only Rp 12,000. That sum of money is not only very small for me and for those disabled children, but it will also cause you problems. It is not easy for you to keep that money intact until you arrive back in Surakarta, which is three hundred kilometers from here."

"Of course the money will not arrive in Surakarta intact, since I have the right to use as much as 25 percent for transportation and meals."

"Even so, it is still a problem for you. The trip to Surakarta with any kind of transportation will cost at least Rp 9,000. Say you have three meals, that means you have to spend more money, at least Rp 1,500. Really, you are still in trouble because it is impossible for you to give only Rp 1,500 to those disabled children."

I saw the man become confused. His hands moved aimlessly. Maybe he wanted to say something, but after waiting for quite some time, not even a word was pronounced.

"If you don't understand, let me explain. I will pay Rp 12,000 for all these goods. Then go to the market and you can get the same kind of goods for only Rp 4,000. You'll still have Rp 8,000 in profit and your capital will not decrease even a fraction. It is very easy, isn't it?"

The man froze and looked wretched, although I really did not mean to hurt him.

"You can continue selling kitchen knives and dusters on behalf of those disabled children in Surakarta as long as you wish. When you can make just ten deals like this, you can make Rp 80,000 in profit. With that much money you can go home to Surakarta to cheer those disabled children up."

Paying no attention to my guest who looked more confused, I took out Rp 12,000. At first my guest seemed hesitant, but then he accepted the money. Four kitchen knives and two dusters became my property.

After putting the money in his pocket, my guest said goodbye. I thought he acted very awkward and clumsy. He was also tongue- tied. But I saw him out properly because I had nothing to worry about. On the contrary, I believed the man was still confused about my attitude towards him.

Maybe the man laughed at me for telling him the trick that had been his means of operation for a long time. Even without my direction he would do what I told him.

But it was also possible that he believed I was sincere because it would not be easy to get Rp 12,000 from someone who had no appreciation for the good intentions of other people.

The third possibility was that the man considered me naive for not showing any suspicion of him. Oh, if only the man knew that none of his guesses were correct.

But why don't people try to enjoy the beauty of the art of deception? Take the woman who said she was sent by the orphanage in Banyuwangi. If she had not been a talented person she would not succeed in acting out the character she played. If she was not a firm person, she would not dare running the risk of asking me for a donation because it was quite possible that I would adamantly try to unmask her. In fact, the woman had shown a talent, a firmness and a courage to face up the possibilities of being embarrassed. All three were so articulated that they made an artistic presentation that I really enjoyed.

Today, when the time for the noon prayer had not yet arrived, I had faced three con artists. They were good actors and I liked them. I felt like spending more time with them.

It was a pity it was four hours since the woman who said she was from Banyuwangi had left. The man who claimed he was selling goods made by disabled children in Surakarta had left soon after her. But that man from Cikokol? He had just left a moment ago and I was sure could find him again in this district.

I changed the T-shirt I was wearing with a long-sleeved shirt, a sarong and a pair of trousers. I even grabbed my hat from its hanger. Then I rushed out, not in the direction of the bus station but towards the marketplace.

I was convinced that the man from Cikokol was around the market. There he was, talking to someone. Looking at his movements and style of talking, I was convinced that he was repeating his hoax. But I saw his prospective victim shun him.

Like a snake who had lost its wounded prey, the man from Cikokol looked dazed and alone. But his cunning and sharp eyes shifted to me. Ah, how easy it was to deceive people.

The Cikokol man failed to recognize me only because I had changed clothes. He came closer to me and I was ready to enjoy his second hoax. Standing only a few steps from me I saw him bow and his look suddenly changed. How incredible, he looked bewildered.

"Excuse me, Sir. A pickpocket stole my money and I must buy some medicines for my wife who has just given birth..."

Suddenly the man from Cikokol ceased talking. His eyes opened wide and his face tensed. He failed to hide his nervousness upon recognizing me, but he was a good pantomime artist. I enjoyed the tenseness in his face which slowly dissipated. Now shame was showing there, though for a brief second because eventually he smiled. I even smiled back at him.

"Oh, it is you, Sir," he said, a grimace on his face. I grimaced back. He looked embarrassed and ill at ease even though I continued to treat him with friendliness.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I have cheated you and was trying it again," he said, a slight tremor in his voice.

"Calm down. Please calm down, Cikokol man; I had realized from the very beginning that you were cheating me."

"Do you want your money back, Sir?"

"Hush! What I ask is the end of the story about the money that has been stolen and about your wife who has just given birth."

"Ah, Sir. Of course you knew it was a make-believe story?"

"Yes, only a fool would believe a story like that. But I want to hear it and I am really serious."

"Ah, Sir. Rather than listening to such a nonsense story, it would be better if I tell you the reason I became an impostor."

"It's a good idea. But will you guarantee that your coming story is not more bull?"

"For God's sake, I will tell the truth."

Opening his story with an oath, the man from Cikokol began a story that sounded like self-defense. And the oath made what he said become a high quality lie.

Just so I could enjoy the special presentation, I had to restrain myself as well as I could. And I did. Right up to the time the man from Cikokol finish telling me the reason he became an impostor, I showed a seriousness in listening to him, I even enjoyed the story. The man from Cikokol even appeared convinced that he had succeeded in deceiving me for the second time. It could be that he thought he had become the most superior impostor.

What would happen if the man from Cikokol found out that there was another con man who was far more gifted, namely the one who had given Rp 14,000 to the three insignificant con artists? With that Rp 14,000 he hoped he could trick God into giving him His blessings, ignoring the manner with which the money was obtained. And I am sure that only a genuine impostor is aware of his deceits.

Translated by Adhi Isvara M.

Ahmad Tohari was born on June 13, 1948. He is best known for his novels, which include Kubah (The Dome), Di Kaki Bukit Cibalak (At the Foot of Mount Cibalak) and Ronggeng Dukuh Paruk (The Dancer from Paruk Hamlet -- a trilogy consisting of Ronggeng Dukuh Paruk (The Dancer from Paruk Hamlet), Lintang Kemukus Dinihari (The Morning Star) and Jantera Bianglala (Rainbow Wheel). A collection of his short stories have published in a volume entitled Senyum Karyamin (Karyamin's Smile). In 1990 Ahmad joined the International Writing Program in Iowa, U.S.A. He now lives in his home village of Tinggarjaya, Banyumas in Central Java and writes for Amanah family magazine. The short story Penipu Yang Keempat (The Fourth Con Man) was first published in Kado Istimewa: Cerpen Pilihan Kompas 1992 (A Special Gift: An Anthology of Kompas Short Stories 1992). It is reprinted here by courtesy of the Kompas daily.