“I don’t like to be called faggot, because I’m not a faggot. If what I’m working now you might ask, I’m just forced by a life demand.”
“Shakira”, he preferred being called by that name to his real name. He disentangled his long, black hair from its rope then twisted to his wrist. His lanky, sinewy legs were crossing at each other. Now the tip of right shoes wobbling. Staring at a small face in front of him,his eyes were up and down, blowing up smoke from a cigarette that pinched between his knuckles to the air. Red lipstick printed lightly on its stub. Sitting on the bench made from root under the dilapidated stall seemed rather uncomfortable for him, maybe it because of the squeaking bench that many times he looked had to tweak the manner of his sitting. His joyous pink dress clearly didn’t match with black flat shoes, the shoes resembled ballet shoes instead.
“Now, as your promise, I want to be paid in advance before I tell you further.” A palm set up opened
That late night, drizzly had brought the air into the dampness, and Latuharhari street wasn’t like usual, the area more deserted. Only a number of Shakira’s friends were seen, trying to attract preys that crossed the street by cars mostly. The one with the shortest skirt aggresively approaching a guy inside the stopped car, giving his best flirtatious eyes. As if the dealing with a money was more important than being healthy. After doing the bargaining, he then merrily joined inside the car. But his other friend with a very luminous bag swung on his shoulder gestured a jealous look, yanked one foot to the ground then turned away by whipping his hair coquettishly, walking towards another friend standing by umbrella.
Shakira settled steadily on his bench now, gleaming-face he slipped the money to the hidden side between his artificial breasts. Still with cross-legged. His face appeared to make an objectional response while being asked about his age. Though he answered with a laughter, but the more he laughed, the more tart his expression looked like. Swiveling his body to the back, his hand grabbed a jar contained with colourful gums. Twisted its lid, fingers ransacked into it. He got a handful of gums now. The way he picked up the gums colors similar like eenie-meenie-miney game. It was deep last suck to the cigarette before he ditched it then managed to throw some gums into his mouth, but the stall-lady bursted out into angry afterward. Shouting and cursing Shakira with inappropriate words.
“She always like that, belittles me, she thinks I cannot afford these kind of candies, haha, she can’t imagine the money I can get if someday I appear on TV, just like Olga, he’s just so lucky person you know, with no talent at all, except the weird jokes I think.” Lips pouted
“But look at his billion home.”Swiftly he moved his body forward and took a notice to a recorder on the table “ is it working? check..check..” While pointing it to his nose, as if the mood has changed within a second
Cold more intense upon the skin as the wind wafted around. Silence abruptly. The only sound was soap opera dialogue came from the stall-lady’s TV mingling with sound of rain droplets that night. The smell of soil emerged in the atmosphere. Shakira’s friends were still in the same action there, waving, flirting to the cars around the street. Even some of them would lift their skirts till their crotchs revealed if the seduction didn’t work to those whom they tried to attract. Shakira’s eyes no longer pointed to the unsophisticated thing on the table.
“Charli Doyoba, that’s my real name,” chewing gums indifferently, his voice broke the silence. “But it’s ok if you don’t believe me.” One hand waved breezily
“I wasn’t born here, my hometown is in Pekanbaru. I came to Jakarta in 2002 with no money, almost like a beggar at that time.” Still with the rhythm of chewing Strands of dark hair coiled at his index finger
“A porter, that’s my first job, I know you will come up to the expression like that.” he chuckled then
“I had to survive at that time, so I thought that became a porter was the easiest way to get some money, since I do not have high education. What I’ve had seen a lot on TV, people like me would do anything to make a living, to avoid their life from hunger, to not to be death in this big metropolis. Even begging some money has been “a job” nowadays, but I always determine myself to not become a beggar. I mean, you know.. wandering on the side walk, pretending to be invalid, or carrying whoseever-kid-they-are.., I don’t like kids anyway.” His voice came to be cynical then continued to speak
“ I also used to work at a bread factory, but it lasted only for two months . The owners were nice at first, allowed me to stay in a small room in there, at some point I knew it was just compensation for not paying my wage. I quit then without permission.” Shakira said as his mouth chewed gums
Although there was a bitterness trully in his words, but face didn’t show as it was. Instead he just kept looking indifference constantly. Eyes captured a quite glimpse of his pretty complexion, though his jaw shape and bulging-flesh on his arms couldn’t lie that he is a male.
“An old friend from Pekanbaru who made my self end up here, he introduced me with ‘Bunda’ then,.. Bunda is the leader here but if you want know more about Bunda, of course there’s an extra charge for that.” he swooped then, as though he could read someone’s mind
The drizzly more intensely captured by the hazardous of car headlight that passed through that night. Beam of street lamps clarified the soggy asphalt around Latuharhari. Taking a glance over shakira’s friends’ behavior remained interesting. A sort of amusement, despite the scenery was no longer amusing. They were acting like real mad now, some of them even suddenly became “real men” when had to run after a speeding-car and pelting it with pebbles.
“Don’t be surprised my dear, just show up here every night and you will see such view as an usual thing. That car was lucky at the least, had no crash on its windshield.” (Nsri)
