The Lives of Five Hundred Thousand
Used clothes for Zain

One by one, the small stalls I went to entrust my cracker merchandise. Some are over, some are just a few more packs, some have already been paid, some have paid only half and some have not paid at all. That is, my cracker trading does not always run smoothly and often faltered payment problems because the stalls I tipped are only small stalls whose income is not how much.

I walked back to the last stall of my cracker daycare while guiding Zain and carrying the large plastic that had been reduced in content. Arriving at the last stall, I greeted the owner of the stall who was sweeping the terrace of his house.

"Bu Siti, are the crackers finished?" ask me while standing in front of his stall.

Lady Siti turned to me and put her broom in the corner of the door.

"It's over, Nur. But, your mother two days ago owed me fifty thousand dollars. He said pay him with cracker money"

I was astonished to hear the remark made by Ms. Siti that my mother owed her fifty thousand. I don't know why he owed that kind of money to Ms. Siti.

Actually the problem of debt owed has been very often done by my mother and the end of it I pay it. But, I never knew what the money was for, because if I asked him he would be mad at me.

"It's okay Mom, here I bring you again. So my mother's debt is considered paid off, huh Miss Siti?"

"Yes Nur."

I hurried away from Bu Siti's stall while carrying Zain. Pity my son from earlier I asked to walk, because I myself had trouble carrying a large plastic bag containing crackers.

I walked down the small pebble stone road. Passing one house to another.

"Nur Nuriiiii !"

A woman's voice called my name on the porch of my right-hand home. Then I looked at the person who called me.

"What's Miss Rina?"

"Come here for a minute."

Then, I walked up to Bu Rina who was standing and carrying a black plastic bag.

"This is Reza's old clothes. It does not fit on his body because now Reza his body plump. Who knows if it fits in Zain's body. I was going to your house but luckily you came in front of me. So, I no longer need to go to your house," said Bu Rina while thrusting the bag of crackles in her hand towards me and I accepted it and then smiled at her.

"Alhamdulillah. Thank you very much Miss Rina."

I always say thank you and thank you when someone gives me something even though it is something in the form of used goods as I currently receive.

"The same Nur. Later if Reza's clothes no longer fit I love Zain again."

"Thank you Ma'am. Then excuse me, Miss Rina."

I continued my steps towards my home which was still far away. In the middle of stepping, I looked up my face to see the sky that was starting to blacken.

"o Allah, may it not rain before I get home" I murmured.

I sped up my steps because I was afraid that the rain would come down and wet all the clothespins that had started to dry. I can't imagine if that happened, Mom would have gone back in wrath and I'm sure she would have asked me to buy her crackers back.

I don't want that to happen. The living money of my husband, which is only one piece of red money, I will not use to obey my mother's will again.

I walked so fast I could run that I didn't notice a rock big enough to block my way.

Brugh

I fell down and the Zain I carried fell with me. My son was crying hysterically in shock and was thankful he didn't have time to touch the ground because my body was holding him back. I immediately held Zain back and calmed him from the crying. Even though my knee hurt and felt sore and bleed I let the important thing my son did not hurt a small item. After Zain calmed down again, I continued my steps with a wound on the knee while holding Zain and carrying a black crackle bag containing used clothes for my son.

"Alhamdulilah, the crackers are not rained and are dry." I smiled and unceasingly expressed gratitude.

My house looks lonely like my mom hasn't come home yet. I don't know where my mother went because she never told me if she was going anywhere.

I took the key I put on the door. I purposely kept it over the door because I was scared when I was driving my mother's crackers home and looking for the door lock.

I dropped Al off in front of the TV and turned on the 21in slim TV. Then I switched the channel from my mother's favorite channel to a child's cartoon channel.

"So soon, son, I'm going to take some medicine to treat your wounds." Zain nodded then refocused on watching the cartoon. Rarely can he watch cartoons freely because all this time the TV was controlled by my own mother even though the TV was me who bought it.

After treating the wound on my knee, I took out all the contents of the crackle bag that Bu Rina had given me on the street. Seen a few pieces of clothes and used pants and the color has been seen fading in front of me.

"Zain here son, let's try a new shirt first yuk," I asked Zain. Zain smiled happily and walked over to me. I began to try out one by one the used clothes on Zain's body.

Everyone who gives used clothes I always say new to Zain. I can't bear to say that the shirt is a used shirt even though Zain himself has not understood where the used clothes and where the new clothes.

Since the first time Zain was born. He never wears new clothes. Everything he wears is a used shirt given by people who feel sorry for me. I myself have never bought a new shirt for Zain because of the limited money I have. So does my husband who always says he has no more money. My husband's parents never gave anything to my son nor did my real mother. I often think about the attitude of the parents. Why don't all of my grandparents nobody care and love my kids? what's Zain's fault with them? those two questions that often swirl around in my brain.

After finishing trying out a few pieces of used clothes, I put them in a cardboard box where Zain's clothes are stored because Zain does not have a wardrobe.

"Nur Nurii !"

Mom's screams rang out from the kitchen calling my name. I quickly got out of the room and walked to the kitchen to meet my mother. Looks like the clothes worn by the mother is soaking wet like she's out of the rain.

"yes, ma'am."

"quickly boil hot water mom wants to take a bath," mother told me then I nodded because I could not bear to see it soaked like that. No matter how bad she treated me, she was my mother whom I had to respect and uphold.

A few moments later the water I boiled boiled boiled boiled and then I poured it into a large tub in the bathroom.

"Mom, I have poured water in the tub" I reported to my mother who was sitting waiting for the hot water.

"Nur Nurii !"

Mom shouted to call my name back. I rushed to my mother who had just come out of her room.

"Yes Mom."

"Where is the sale of crackers?" I asked her while holding her hand towards me.

I immediately reached into the shabby negligee bag I was using.

"It's Mom." I put the money away and my mother took it from my hand.

"It only takes three hundred thousand. There are twenty that do not. There are still those who have not paid and to pay the debt of the mother with Ms. Siti" I said again.

Mom calculated the amount of money then put aside a piece of money five thousand and then thrust it on me.

"This is your wage" said the mother.

I made the crackers, I also circulated them to the stalls. But I am only paid five thousand if the income is below four hundred thousand and is paid ten thousand if the income is above four hundred thousand each time to deliver crackers once a week.