I am His Brother...

By Suharno

Once I was at a roadside coffee shop in a windy afternoon before the dusk. I relied on a cup of hot coffee with heart-shaped Choco granule toping to temporarily get away from upsetting workload.

I lifted the stuff with moist billowing up under my chin and the whirling tip of steam got into my nostrils. While enjoying the coffee, I gently closed my eyes to revisualize best moments gone by . When I was about to begin with the first sip, a girl motorcyclist passing by cried out my brother’s name, “Fortuuun”. I redrew the cup and slightly reopened my eyes to glance at the site of the girl. But before my eyes caught her, I heard a crashing noise. I put the cup back and walked to the direction of the noise to figure out what was going on. I saw the girl laying down helplessly at the roadside with bleeding nose. The girl crying out my brother’s name seemed to get seriously injured and went unconscious.

I rushed her to the nearest Public Health Center to get first aid. As arrived, with the help of a security officer, she was taken to the emergency ward. While waiting for the doctor on duty, I looked at her face a bit closely in the hope that I could figure out who she was and why she called out my brother’s name. But my curiosity remained unanswered until, out of the blue, she gradually came to. As she regained complete consciousness, she looked at me in despair and again cried out my brother’s name with her eyes began watering, “Fortuuun”. Fortuuun, I miss you very much, where have you been? I smiled at her as I said, “I am Goldi, his younger Brother!”

The Robbery on the Chessboard

By Denizli Achmad

A few months after I visited my grandparent’s rail-side house for an adventurous vacation, I continued my busy workdays in this lovely bustling city. The city has always been known for its job prospects, well-paid employees and day-to-day capitalism. Round-trip from my house to the office is the only thing that keeps my everyday busy. In an unenjoyable way, actually: the crowded road alongside the hot and humid weather, the screaming vehicle horns just something that cannot get worse. At least until I visited the Downtown Bank, the busiest and the oldest bank in town.

My phone’s ringtone woke me up from my blankness on my way to the bank: it was my cousin telling me that the local government had fixed the collapsed tunnel in my hometown – one thing that kept that day’s smile on my face at least. I walked to the bank through the Piccadilly-Circus like street where people roamed around in their office suits. I could feel the busy air all around this street: chattering phone calls, tic-tacking expensive shoes, and the melodies of traffic lights; all participated in that busy day. After a few minutes through the tireless street, I arrived at the wooden antique front door of the Downtown Bank.

No one could think of any other busy day besides Monday, a day where people are signing checks, making deals, and restocking the market. As also when I was at the bank. According to my watch, I arrived at the bank quite early. But there was already a queue in front of the teller’s desk. The suited ladies and gentlemen were making a row to deal their businesses there. The black and white chessboard pattern floor was making the people look like the chess pieces, ranked by their wealth perhaps. It was my thought about the situation there. The long queue was making me pay more attention to the surroundings more than usual. The wooden material dominates the bank’s interior, and crystal clear glasses, making everything visible here and there.

Everyone was busy with themselves while waiting inside the bank: some were on their phone, others just standing, and my eyes were on a woman reading a magazine while accompanied by her dog. She seemed so unbothered with the crowd; how calm. On the other side of her, the queue was getting closer to the teller’s desk, making me move a couple of steps. After a few minutes of standing inside the line, I just realized that they had moved the manager’s room to the front room. It was on the backside of the building when I was younger, now is located near the bank’s entrance. A few moments had passed, I saw many people come and go. Then I wondered why were these two people had never left; they had been there for more than I expected. They roamed the building without making any transaction or else. They steadily still near the teller’s desk and in front of the manager’s office. Suspiciously acted, they looked at their watch often, too often. One of the men was wearing the same pattern jacket as the floor; I wanted to laugh until I realized who they were.

I finally got my turn to talk to the bank’s teller; then, I slowly walked towards the door after a few minutes of chat. All the chattering and blustering reached a sudden stop when there was a scream of threatening from the chess jacket man and his partner, the guy I thought he was the manager’s relatives or else. I also heard a loud threat behind me from another guy that I did not see before. He was bulkier than the other two, with some wrinkles on his face.

he three robbers shouted at everyone to not make any stupid move. Then the big man told his partner near the manager’s office to bring Mr. Manager out of his room. He got out of his room with his hands up and a loaded gun in front of his face. The big man held his gun up to the bank’s teller and shouted to her. He was asking for all of the money to be on the table sooner.

Everyone was panicking: the worried chattering flew around the room. Sometimes, when there is a too-loud whisper, one of the robbers would shout them to shut up. In the middle of this worrying situation, my eyes spotted the woman in glasses still unbothered even by this robbery. There is no possible way she could do such a thing, so I assumed she is deaf or something. She could not be blind, because she was reading a magazine there.

When all the crowds were still panicking, the robber who stood nearest to Mr. Manager kept his eye on the manager to keep him steady. I remembered the manager’s calmness when the robbery happened; no wonder he is still the manager until now. A couple of minutes felt like hours in that kind of atmosphere, and everyone was still worried about how and when this robbery would end. Could everyone be safe? There were only these questions inside my head back then.

The air was getting more humid and hotter: the robber placed us close to each other, and I could hear everyone’s heavy and scared breath. My neck began to sweat more than usual; all that panic situation were the first to me. Hopefully will be the last too.

Even though it was my first, I was so ready to stay there for a longer time. At one moment, I thought to act as a hero in the movies, but then I realized that the robbery was an obvious situation, unlike the actors. A couple of seconds after, I felt like the goddess of fortune gave her blessing to this bank.

In a snap of a finger, all my worries faded, changed by the sudden sound of the stunning emergency siren. Turn out it was the manager who stepped the emergency button on the floor that I did not notice the button’s placement before. The button’s colour matched the floor, making me and perhaps the robbers did not realize it was there all the time.

The shock was not only triggering me; everyone in the room was shocked by the siren, including all the robbers. During the shocking situation, Mr. Manager managed to take one of the robber’s guns and hold it up against the robber. Mr. Manager then kept his position steady, pointing the gun up to the robbers; until the police arrived. Because of this, the crowds got less frightened, and some of them tried to reach their phone. The other two robbers, the big man and the chess jacket man, stood there looking confused. Maybe they were thinking about the failure of the robbery. After a few seconds, the police arrived, followed by the robber’s surrender.

The armed police came and evacuated the crowd from the robber. They captured the robber in custody and began to ask the witnesses about what was just happened, including me. After a few talks with the officers, I realized that the woman in glasses, who were very calm, got confused just now. I was still wondering why she did not surprise or even take a glance at the robbery before, oddly weird.

An hour after the police captured the robbers, I was still there, watching. An ambulance was also there to expect any injuries; they gave me a cup of hot tea to relax. The crowds and I also congratulated Mr. Manager for his bravery during the robbery. In a moment, I felt exhausted that I needed some more vacation. Maybe I will revisit my grandparent’s house and check the collapsed tunnel there

Quaking in My Stilettos

By Viville

English Education Study Program 2021

It was a dog day of summer in New York, 1984. Definitely one of those days when you wish to eat some sweet and refreshing ice cream all day, take a cold bath over and over again, or take a bath in a frosty vanilla ice cream all day—there is nothing in between. I was grateful, because instead of waiting outside in the sultry weather, I could sit in a room full of air conditioners at Chase Manhattan Bank. I was there to withdraw some money before heading to buy more clothes and sewing essentials for my boutique—we just opened a new branch in lower Manhattan. Well, I did not know whether or not I should call myself “grateful” because a whole bank robbery happened that day.

I was sitting in front of the tellers while taping my shoes on the old-fashioned checkered floor. What the hell were these people thinking? Were you living in the 15th century? I knew I looked like a queen but definitely not the chess ones. One inch left from my shoes there laid the tail of a service dog which belonged to a young deaf girl who was reading next to me. Her mom was a colleague of mine. We used to work in the same retail shop when we were teenagers and she was there to withdraw some money to buy her daughter a new hearing aid.

Well, actually, the place did not feel that capacious since there were a lot of people there minding their own business. Patterned clothing seemed to be in trend, judging from how many people wore it to the bank that day. The deaf girl next to me was wearing a brown trench coat and a colorful inner shirt—a classic but in this weather? You have got to be kidding me. I spotted one tubby man wearing a matching striped suit and a girl next to him was rocking the same pattern but in a mini dress version. Later on, a tall young man joined them with his gingham patterned jacket suit. It suited him well, but definitely not with those blue jeans and that Chanel handbag—it looked like it belonged to his mom. He did not look like he understood fashion very well, but I believed he had a lot of money to deposit. Still, he better took a fashion class because his style was straight up yelling “money does not buy class”.

A few moments later, a group of men showed up with their casual yet distinctive outfit. Two men were wearing black and white striped jackets and the other man was wearing a checkered jacket. The older man stood in line and the rest were standing close to the door. The way they act was so suspicious—it felt like they were planning to do something bad. I tried not to make a guess, but the fact that I was sitting in the Chase Manhattan Bank, one of the most robbed banks in the United States made me feel slightly anxious.

I kept looking at the man who stood in the queue. “What if it’s true that they are robbers? Should I just call the police? What if they are not?” I asked myself. “This stiletto would work just fine, but what if they have guns? I did not train for this.” It was the man’s turn to speak to the teller when he suddenly put his hand under his jacket to grab a gun. The other boys were holding guns as well. “Oh, well!” I said quietly. “Everybody put your hands in the air!” he yelled. Of course, he did not say it in the same way as singers at their concert. He said it with so much force and anger that we did not have a choice but to obey his words. “You! Give me the money!” Maybe, I sounded calm and a bit cocky, but at that time I was immensely petrified.

Nobody was brave enough to even move for an inch. It felt like our heads were underwater—we could not scream for help or the water would fill our lungs. One simple mistake could drown us to death. We were extremely frightened and helpless. I did not want that day to be my last day on earth, but I was upset because there was nothing I could do about it.

In the corner of my eye, I saw an old man—I assumed he was the manager, kicking a black tile on the ground. The tile flipped and showed us a red button. Then, he proceeded to tap on the button repeatedly. I was at how calm and collected he was—maybe he was used to this situation. The old robber was busy yelling at the tellers and told them to give him the money that he did not realize what the manager did. “Quick! Put the money on this bag! You! Put your hands up or I will shoot you to death.”

I tried to gulp but my throat was dry. The air conditioners did not feel cold anymore and my face started to cover in sweat—I could sense the sweat dripping down my cheeks and stopped at my mouth.

All of a sudden, I heard a police siren wailing down the streets. The young man standing next to the door said, “Police are here!”

“Shit. Do it quicker, bitch or I am going to shoot your fucking head!”

The robbers panicked and the manager saw this chance to grab one of the man’s guns that was pointed towards him. The young man was just standing there, as if he was accepting his fate that their attempt was going to fail today. “Quick, quick!” the old man lost his temper.

No matter how quick the tellers move, there was not any chance for the robbers to run away. The police broke in and arrested them immediately. Not long after that, the room was full with officers—some were trying to get some information about what happened in detail, some were trying to do a quick investigation, and some were just there to calm us down. I saw a lady officer walking towards the deaf girl. “Are you okay?” she said. Of course, the girl did not understand what she said. She also probably had no clue about what happened earlier.

It was one of the most inexplicably intense moments of my life. I have not stopped telling this story for the past thirty five years, and I would probably never stop

Honesty
By Suharno

Samantha had a problem. She wanted to impress her crush, Jake, by showing him her math test score. She had aced the test, and she knew that Jake would be impressed. But there was one problem. She had cheated on the test. Samantha knew that cheating was wrong, but she couldn't resist the urge to impress Jake. She knew that if she showed him her score, he would think she was smart and maybe even start to like her. But as the day wore on, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. She knew that cheating wasn't the right thing to do, and she didn't want to deceive Jake. She thought about confessing, but the thought of losing his admiration was too scary. As the days passed, Samantha couldn't focus on anything else. Her guilt was eating away at her, and she knew she had to do something. Finally, she decided to talk to her math teacher.

When Samantha told her teacher what she had done, the teacher was disappointed but impressed by Samantha's honesty. The teacher gave her a zero on the test, but Samantha felt relieved. She had done the right thing, and that was more important than impressing Jake. Jake found out about what Samantha had done, and he was disappointed too. But he also respected her for telling the truth. He even asked Samantha to tutor him in math, and they started spending more time together. Samantha learned a valuable lesson about the importance of honesty. It wasn't easy to confess, but she knew that it was the right thing to do. And in the end, her honesty earned her the respect of her teacher and the admiration of Jake. From that day forward, Samantha promised herself that she would always do the right thing, even if it was hard. Because in the end, honesty is always the best policy.

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I am His Brother...
By Suharno