The heat in Depok that afternoon felt different from the heat in his hometown. The air was dustier, noisier, and felt sticky on the skin.
The blue angkot (public minivan) he was riding stopped abruptly on the side of Margonda Road. Thomas dragged his large backpack—as heavy as the mental burden he carried from home—down to the asphalt. His legs felt incredibly sore after the long journey by land and sea.
"Left, Sir," Thomas said flatly, handing over the exact change he had already prepared in his grip.
The angkot driver snatched the money without looking back, then stepped on the gas, leaving a puff of black smoke that immediately swept over Thomas's face. Thomas coughed slightly, waving his hand in front of his nose. He stood alone on an unfamiliar sidewalk, surrounded by thousands of vehicles passing by indifferently.
His throat was parched. Thomas dragged his feet toward a small grocery stall sandwiched between large shophouses. He needed to sit, even if just for a moment.
"Ma'am, one mineral water," he requested while placing his large bag on the dusty cement floor of the stall.
A middle-aged woman in a floral house dress glanced at him briefly, then grabbed a cold bottle from the fridge. Thomas gulped it down greedily, feeling the cold water wash over his sore throat.
Once his breathing became somewhat regular, Thomas gathered the courage to ask. "Excuse me, Ma'am. Do you happen to know any info on boarding houses (kos) around here that aren't too far from the UI campus?"
The shopkeeper looked at Thomas's appearance from top to bottom—shabby shirt, big bag, tired face. She understood this type of student. "Oh, access to campus is plentiful from here, son. But since it's a campus area, if it's close to the main gate or station, the prices definitely 'bite'."
"What is the going rate, Ma'am?" Thomas asked anxiously. He felt the pocket of his trousers, where his thin wallet resided.
"Standard ones, ensuite bathroom, fan, usually IDR 600,000 to IDR 800,000," the woman answered casually.
Thomas swallowed hard. IDR 600,000. The money he brought from his father's loan and Eben's savings wouldn't last long if he had to pay rent that high every month.
"Is there anything cheaper, Ma'am?" Thomas's voice lowered, a bit embarrassed but desperate. "I don't need facilities. Narrow is fine, as long as I can sleep and it's safe."
The woman frowned, thinking for a moment. "Hmm... if you want cheap, don't look on the main road. Try heading towards Jalan Budi Utama. It's still a residential village area. They say there are some for around IDR 300,000."
Thomas's eyes lit up slightly. "That works, Ma'am. Which way is that?"
"There, just go straight that way," the woman pointed to the road stretching out. "Later there will be a turn to the left, just go in about one kilometer. Pass a few alleys. There are many residents' houses rented out there. Just ask people around there, I don't recall the exact location."
"Understood, Ma'am. I'll go straight there before dark. Thank you very much, Ma'am."
"Yes, be careful, son. Watch your belongings."
Thomas shouldered his backpack again. The burden on his shoulders felt heavier as his footsteps traced the asphalt road which slowly turned into a narrow cement path. The multi-story buildings began to disappear, replaced by dense and huddled residential houses.
One kilometer felt like ten kilometers to Thomas's tired legs. The sky began to turn a dark orange.
At a bend in an alley, Thomas saw a man washing his battered motorcycle. Soap suds flowed onto the alley road.
"Excuse me, Sir," Thomas greeted politely. His 'good boy' mask automatically slipped on.
The man looked up, water hose still in hand. "Yes? What is it, son? Lost?"
"No, Sir. I'm looking for a boarding house. Do you know where there's a boarding house with a price around IDR 300,000?"
The man turned off the water tap. He wiped his wet hands on his shorts. "Wow, a frugal student budget, huh? There is one. Just enter the second alley on the left. Look for a house with pale green paint, named Kosan Bu Budi. It's famous for having the lowest prices there."
"Oh, thank goodness. Thanks for the info, Sir," Thomas nodded respectfully.
Before heading straight to the intended place, Thomas tried his luck at two other boarding houses he passed. However, his hopes were dashed. One asked for IDR 450,000, the other was full. Thomas's options were narrowing as the sun truly set.
Finally, Thomas arrived in front of a long house with green paint that was dull and peeling here and there. There was a small wooden sign reading 'Accepting Male Boarders'.
In the narrow front yard, a stout elderly woman was sweeping dry leaves with slow movements.
"Excuse me, Ma'am... Is this Bu Budi's boarding house?" Thomas asked.
The woman stopped sweeping, adjusting her glasses. "Yes, correct. I am Bu Budi. Looking for a friend or looking for a room?"
"Looking for a room, Ma'am. Are there any still empty?"
"Actually, there are. Two left," answered Bu Budi, leaning her broom against the wall. "One at the very front near the terrace, the other in the far back corner, very tucked away. Want to see?"
"Sure, Ma'am. I'll look at the one at the very end," Thomas answered quickly. He didn't like the noise of the street. He needed to hide.
They walked through the narrow and dimly lit boarding house corridor. There were six doors in a row. At the end of the hall, near the shared bathroom whose door was half open revealing a mossy water tub, there was one old-looking wooden door.
Bu Budi reached into her dress pocket, took out a key, and opened the door. She had to lift the door handle slightly before pushing it so it wouldn't get stuck.
Creaaaak.
The door opened, and a distinctive scent greeted Thomas's nose: the smell of rotting wood mixed with damp air that had been trapped for a long time.
Bu Budi flipped the light switch. A dim yellow light illuminated the room. Thomas stood frozen in the doorway.
The room was small. Very small. Its size was probably only 1.5 x 2.5 meters. More like a storage box than a human room.
An old study desk with peeling wood veneer stood near the door. Next to it, a thin foam mattress was spread on the floor without a bed frame. Beside the mattress, there was a small, dingy louver window facing the narrow alleyway.
On the upper wall, there were three rectangular ventilation holes covered with mosquito wire that was rusty and slightly torn. The wall paint was ivory white that had yellowed, with patches of mold in the corners where it met the ceiling. The ceiling itself was made of plywood that had warped due to water seepage; there was even a small hole gaping black up there.
"This is the condition, son," said Bu Budi honestly, without trying to promote anything. "There's a small cupboard in that corner, but the door drags a bit. Shared bathroom outside."
Thomas entered slowly. He touched the wall which felt cold and damp. To most people, this room might be depressing. Like a prison. But for Thomas, the silence and isolation of this room felt... calming.
Here, in the corner of this damp narrow alley, no one knew him. No one knew he had paralyzed someone. No one knew he had a brother who was a scavenger. This was the perfect hiding cave.
"How much is it, Ma'am?" Thomas asked, turning to face Bu Budi.
"IDR 300,000. Already includes electricity and water."
Thomas calculated quickly in his head. The remaining money in his wallet, monthly food allowance, and unexpected costs. He had to be as ruthlessly frugal as possible. Eben's money must not be wasted, not because he cared about his brother, but because he didn't want to ask for more and have to listen to his father's scolding.
"Can it be IDR 250,000, Ma'am?" Thomas bargained, putting on a pitiful face.
Bu Budi shook her head slowly, smiling understandingly. "Sorry, son. That's the fixed price. Cheapest in this district. Where else can you get that price including electricity?"
Thomas sighed. The argument was valid. He had checked himself earlier. There was no other choice. Besides, the clock on the outer wall already showed nine at night. His body was screaming for rest.
"Alright, Ma'am. I'll take it," Thomas decided.
He reached into his wallet, taking out three shabby IDR 100,000 bills. Money Eben had collected from washing thousands of dirty plates. Thomas handed them to Bu Budi.
"This is for the first month, Ma'am."
"Yes, I accept it. Here is the key. If the front gate is locked at ten PM, don't forget to put the padlock back on if you come home late."
After Bu Budi left, Thomas closed his room door. He slid the rusty latch until it clicked.
That sound signaled he was officially isolated from the outside world.
Thomas dropped his backpack to the floor, then sat on the not-so-thick foam mattress. Fine dust puffed up slightly as he sat. He took out his clothes, arranging them haphazardly into the small cupboard that smelled of camphor. He stacked his books on the tilted study desk.
Once everything was done, Thomas lay his body on the mattress.
His eyes stared straight up, at the fragile and perforated plywood ceiling. That small black hole looked like an eye staring back at him.
In the silence of the unfamiliar Depok night, the sound of crickets and the faint sound of motorcycles from the main road sounded distant. Thomas placed his arm over his forehead.
Hope this is the right beginning, Thomas thought, dialoguing with himself. His inner voice sounded hollow.
In this narrow box, I am not the old Thomas anymore. I will become a new, better person. I will leave all the bad memories in the city where I grew up.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the damp aroma of the room deeply, trying to convince himself that this was the scent of freedom.
Please let me forget everything. Let me sleep peacefully tonight.
Slowly, Thomas's eyelids grew heavy. Physical exhaustion finally won over the guilt that haunted him. Under the fragile roof of that cheap boarding house, Thomas fell asleep, starting his silent new life.