"Look at this, Ben," his uncle said, pointing to the fields and rubber trees. "This is all the result of our hard work. The fields are ready to be harvested, and the rubber is starting to produce a decent amount of latex." His smile was faint but full of pride.
Ben gazed at the fields in awe. He could sense his uncle's perseverance and love for the land. Every now and then, they paused at the edge of the fields, and his uncle explained simple things about the fields: how to keep the rice from drying out, or when the best time to harvest the rubber. Ben listened intently, absorbing every word, which spoke not only about the plants, but also about patience and responsibility.
“Ben,” his uncle said, patting him on the shoulder, “this field isn’t just for food or money. It’s a lesson in life—about hard work, patience, and how to appreciate what we have.”
After enjoying the view, they continued their journey to school. In the simple library, Ben opened his books. But his eyes often wandered to the window, gazing at his uncle’s fields and rubber plantation, remembering the good times he had with Akhir and Saddam—their laughter, their jokes, now just a shadow but still warm in his heart.
During his first week in Pagar Village, Ben began to get to know the neighborhood children. One of them was Samir, a diligent ninth-grader known for his dedication to religious studies and his hard work in the fields helping his parents. Samir’s house happened to be next door to his uncle’s, separated only by a simple wooden fence and a narrow footpath. This meant that Ben often bumped into Samir by chance, both on his way to school and while helping his uncle in the yard.
One afternoon, while Ben was sweeping the yard, Samir emerged from the path, carrying a textbook and a small bag of sweet potatoes from the field.
“Hello, you’re Ben, right?” Samir greeted with a smile. “I’m Samir. I’ve seen you and your uncle a lot, but I’ve never had the chance to meet you.”
Ben was a little surprised, but smiled back. “Yes, I’m Ben. Nice to meet you, Samir. I’ve only been here this week.”
“Ah, so you’re the new neighbor, huh?” Samir said, leaning over the fence. “Then feel free to come over to my house. Sometimes I study alone here.”
Ben nodded. “That’s fine. I usually go to the school library, but sometimes I need a study buddy.”
The conversation flowed easily. They began to talk about their daily activities: Samir about his farm and school, Ben about his past, never having received a diploma due to difficult circumstances. Despite their significant age difference—Ben was 18, Samir was only 15—there was something unique about their friendship. Ben sensed Samir's sincerity, and Samir appreciated Ben's life experience.
"In that case," Samir said one day, "you can come with me to the library tomorrow. I also enjoy reading religious books and historical stories. Maybe we can exchange knowledge."
Ben smiled, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in a long time. "I'm glad. I really need a study buddy, and I think I can learn a lot from you."
In the following days, whenever Ben passed the path or returned from school, they always made time for brief conversations. Sometimes it was just asking how things were going or helping each other carry books and small crops from Samir's fields. Their bond slowly grew, not only because of the circumstances that brought them together, but also because of shared dreams and hopes: to learn, grow, and find their place in a world that now felt foreign to Ben.
One afternoon, after returning from the fields with Samir, they sat by the path, still warm in the sun. The afternoon breeze carried the scent of wet earth and rubber leaves, while birdsong rang in the distance. Ben let his gaze drift to his uncle's field, trying to calm his mind that was never truly at rest.
Samir looked at Ben with innocent but serious eyes. "Ben, why haven't you graduated yet? I've asked my parents, but I know you have a story to tell."
Ben looked down for a moment, fighting back the wave of pain that always surfaced when that topic was touched upon. He smiled faintly and shook his head. "Ah... it's nothing, Samir. My parents... they couldn't afford my school fees at the time. So yeah... I had to stop studying for a while," Ben replied, his voice even but composed, masking the pain. The truth was: he himself had stumbled on his path, a mistake that had cost him his schooling.
Samir nodded, looking a little concerned but also curious. “Oh… I see. But I’m sure you can catch up, Ben. If you want, I can help you study together.”
Ben smiled faintly. “Thanks, Samir. That means a lot… to me. But don’t worry, I can manage everything on my own.”
Samir patted Ben’s shoulder lightly. “Okay, but if you need a friend or there’s anything you don’t understand, just tell me. I won’t be angry.”
Ben stared at Samir for a moment, warmed by the attention. He knew their friendship was beginning to form not just through circumstances, but also through mutual trust—even though he still kept much of his past hidden. “I… I appreciate that, Samir. I really do,” Ben said quietly.
They sat for a while longer, enjoying the quiet afternoon. The quiet village road and the distant view of his uncle's fields gave Ben a strange feeling: peace, hope, and for the first time in a long time, a sense that he could start putting his life back together—even though his past remained a persistent shadow.
Amidst their daily routine, Samir took Ben to a game rental shop at the edge of the village. The shop was small, filled with consoles and shelves stacked with PlayStation 2 game cassettes. The sound of buttons being pressed, the shouts of victory and defeat echoed, creating a noisy but exciting competitive atmosphere.
“Hey, Ben, do you know this game?” Samir asked, pointing to a poster plastered on the wall: GOD HAND. “I heard it's just become popular in town, and it's really fun.”
Ben smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming. He was familiar with the game, and more than that, he knew a little secret that gave him the upper hand. “Yeah, I know. And… if you want, I can show you something fun,” Ben replied, leaning toward the console rack.
The surrounding players, engrossed in battle, turned their heads curiously. A young man asked, “You mean… cheat codes?”
Ben nodded casually. “That’s right. I made some cheat codes myself that can make it easier for you to win. Try them and see for yourself.” His voice was calm but confident, as if he truly mastered that small world.
One by one, the kids from the game rental shop approached, their eyes shining with curiosity. Ben pointed to the buttons, patiently explaining how to enter the codes. “If you press this, you can jump high… if you press this, the enemy’s damage is drastically reduced,” he said with a small smile.
Samir remained silent, his eyes wide with disbelief. He had just realized that the PlayStation 2, which he had thought was simple, could actually be manipulated. A faint smile crept into Ben’s heart. “Your world isn’t far off, bro,” he thought. He felt a sense of nostalgia—the skills that once made him famous were still useful, even in small contexts like this.
As players tried out the cheat codes, shouts of admiration rang throughout the store. “Wow! That’s crazy, Ben! I keep winning!” exclaimed one young man, his eyes sparkling. “This… this is so cool!”
Ben patted each of them on the shoulder, smiling. “Remember, this is just a little trick. But if you can use it, you can learn strategy faster,” he said.
Within a few hours, Ben started making money from his small business—not much, but enough to cover his daily expenses. For him, the money wasn’t just for cigarettes or simple things; it was a way to survive, a way to prove that despite his dark past, he still had something valuable to offer the world.
Samir continued to stare at him, amazed but also a little awed. “Crazy, Ben… you’re really good,” Samir said quietly. Ben just smiled faintly, his eyes fixed on the flashing game screen. Deep down, he knew: the world still had a chance, and he still had some control, however small, over its course.
After leaving the game rental shop, Ben began to frequently stop by his cousin Hendra’s house. Hendra’s house, located at the end of the village, was quite large and tidy, with a well-tended yard and the aroma of coffee always wafting through the living room. Hendra, Ben’s older cousin and now a high school principal in another town, always greeted Ben warmly.
“Ben, come in! Don’t just stand on the porch,” Hendra called out one afternoon with a smile. His aunt, Hendra’s mother, had set out hot tea and cookies on the living room table, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.
After sitting down, Hendra looked at Ben seriously. “Ben, I want to have a serious talk about your future. I know these past few weeks have been tough for you.” His aunt nodded slowly, adding, “Ben, your life is too precious to waste. You have a choice to make, and we’re here to help you.”
Ben lowered his head, suppressing the tightness in his chest. He knew his cousin and aunt were right, but those words also reminded him of the mistakes that had tripped him up in the past.
in life. Hendra continued in a firm but warm voice, “You have a choice to make, Ben. Do you want to continue your education and earn your diploma, or remain trapped in a past that could destroy you?”
Ben was silent, his eyes fixed on the steaming tea in his cup. His aunt gently patted his hand, as if encouraging him. “We’re willing to cover your school fees,” she said. “But in return, you have to help out in the family fields and gardens. It’s not a burden—it’s a way to learn discipline, responsibility, and appreciation for your own efforts.”
Ben took a deep breath. “I… I’m afraid of failing again,” he said softly. “I don’t want to burden you guys.”
Hendra smiled faintly. “Ben, we won’t let you fall so easily. But you have to be willing to try. Life is full of risks, but if you don’t try, you’ll never know how far you can go.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Ben looked at Hendra and his aunt, feeling something warm and reassuring. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay… I’ll try. I’ll pursue my diploma. I want to prove… that I’m still valuable, even though the shadows of my past still haunt me.”
His aunt smiled gently, and Hendra patted Ben on the shoulder. “That’s the right spirit, Ben. But remember, this is just the beginning. You still have a lot to face, and we’ll be there for you.”
The conversation lasted a long time, discussing how Ben would manage his time between studying and helping in the fields, strategies for catching up academically, and a few plans for the future. Ben felt relieved, but deep down, he knew the road ahead was still long.
For six months, Ben had lived a completely new life. Every morning, he accompanied his uncle to school, then spent time studying in the library. At nine o’clock sharp, he began the long journey to his uncle’s rubber plantation, nearly ten kilometers from home. The journey was exhausting—he had to cross a small, cold river, climb rocky hills, and pass through lush fields of cassava and corn.
Upon arriving at the rubber plantation, Ben began to work diligently. He collected rubber sap from tall trees, careful not to injure himself. Occasionally, he harvested coconuts from an old tree near the garden, or helped plant rice in the adjacent paddy. In between, he also tended to livestock: feeding goats and chickens, cleaning pens, and ensuring the cows were healthy.
Sweat soaked his clothes, but every drop felt like a testament to his struggle. His aunt was always waiting at home, organizing the money from the rubber sap and other crops. "Ben, remember, most of this money is for your diploma," she said, neatly placing coins and rupiah notes in a drawer. "The rest can be for daily needs... but don't be wasteful." Ben smiled faintly, his eyes tired but determined. His cigarettes remained his bitter escape, though his aunt always gently reprimanded him when he took them.
Every afternoon, after returning from the plantation, Ben almost always found Samir waiting for him on the path near the house. Samir, his eyes sparkling with excitement, immediately dragged Ben to the PlayStation 2 game rental shop in the village.
“Come with me to the rental today, Ben!” Samir exclaimed with a smile. “I have an idea. Since you came, my pocket money has increased! I even sell cheat codes at school now. But if you come, we can be more serious, and the profits will definitely be bigger.”
Ben laughed softly, relieved to have a friend who understood him. “Okay, Samir. But don’t let your teachers or parents find out,” he replied, patting Samir on the shoulder.
At the rental, the atmosphere was always lively. Young people competed with each other, shouting when they won or lost, joysticks squeaking, screens flashing with bright colors. Ben, calmly, began offering his cheat codes. “Try this code,” he said, pointing to the console buttons. “If you use this, you’re guaranteed to win. But remember, use it strategically.”
The players began to try, and Ben saw their eyes light up with admiration. Samir patted Ben on the back, half-laughing, “See, Ben! I told you—since you’ve been here, my pocket money has increased. If you help, we can do even more!”
Ben smiled faintly through his fatigue and memories of his past. The physical exertion of the fields and gardens had worn him down, but selling cheats at the rental gave him a boost—not just materially, but also a reminder that his past skills could still be useful. Inwardly, he smiled faintly: although the world was still full of challenges, at least he had a little control over his life.
One day, while collecting latex on a rubber plantation, Ben saw something that made his heart ache: a group of suspicious men were approaching the rubber trees from which he had just collected latex. Four large men with rough faces, their steps steady, as if they were used to taking miles.
They were trying to steal from others without permission.
Ben stared at them, his heart beating faster. He set down the bucket of sap and stepped forward, his feet stomping on the wet ground littered with fallen leaves. “Hey! That’s the fruit of my labor!” he declared. “If you want it, prove you have the guts to face me!”
One of the men laughed sarcastically. “You think you can fight us? We’re not kids, brats. You’re just street trash!”
Ben raised an eyebrow, his face calm but his eyes blazing. He refused to back down. In an instant, the air seemed to shift—the wind brought tension, the leaves rustling at their feet. Without waiting for a response, Ben leaped forward, his body agile and quick. His first punch landed squarely on the jaw of the man in front, sending him reeling.
One by one, he engaged them:
- The second man tried to attack from the side, but Ben dodged, then spun around and slammed his elbow into his stomach.
- The third man advanced with clenched fists, but Ben kicked him in the knee, knocking him to the ground.
- The last one tried to grab the bucket of sap, but Ben parried it, pulled it, and pushed with all his strength, sending the man stumbling into the bushes.
It all happened so fast, it was as if time had slowed down for Ben. He was panting, sweat pouring, and bruises were starting to appear on his hands and cheeks, but his eyes remained focused, staring at his fallen opponent. “This is how you reward hard work!” Ben shouted, straightening up. “Never underestimate… Never underestimate anyone!”
The four thieves, now panicked and in pain, quickly fled toward the path. The sound of their hurried footsteps faded amidst the cacophony of birds and the howling wind. Ben stood there, his breathing still heavy, his body bruised, but his face showed a fierce determination—not regret, not arrogance, just courage and a sense of duty. He stared at the now-safe field, the bucket of sap in his hand feeling more precious than ever.
Beneath the anger and tension, Ben smiled faintly. He knew: even though he was only 18, and even though the opponents he faced were bigger and stronger, courage and perseverance could help him survive—and even establish his own dignity in this harsh world.
On his way home from the plantation, Ben walked down the muddy path, his feet sinking slightly in the mud left by the morning rain. The afternoon breeze swept through the dry leaves, carrying the scent of wet earth and rubber leaves. His body was tired from facing the four men, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the past.
Ben vividly remembered his boss from his old village, Eddi—the gang leader who disappeared when the police raided their headquarters. Eddi had always been intimidating but also possessed an inexplicable charisma. He was strong, clever, and invincible, making Ben and his friends feel protected.
Although he had often felt afraid and forced to follow Eddi's orders, Ben now realized something strange: without Eddi's fighting lessons, he might have been defeated, even beaten, by the four men in the rubber plantation. A pang of admiration crept into his heart—as if a small part of him could still see the good in Eddi, despite that past filled with violence and mistakes.
Ben patted himself on the shoulder, trying to shake off the thought. “Without your teachings, I might just be a stupid crybaby,” he muttered softly, his voice almost drowned out by the wind. But the thought quickly faded, replaced by a harsh, unchangeable reality: his gang past, the mistakes he made, and the wounds Eddi and his friends left behind.
He stared at the fields stretching into the distance, the shadows of the rubber trees in the afternoon light making his chest feel tight. His life was very different now: struggling on the plantation, studying in the library, and the real hard work of building a future. Ben realized that true strength wasn’t just physical, but also the courage to face reality, take responsibility, and survive the right way.
Despite the strange feeling lingering within him—somewhere between nostalgia, respect, and a hint of regret—Ben knew he couldn’t go back. He had to keep walking, following the path he had chosen, even though the shadows of the past sometimes lingered in every corner of his mind.
His steps grew firmer as he saw his uncle’s house in the distance. His aunt would surely be waiting with warm tea, and the bucket of sap he carried felt light compared to the burden he had been carrying all this time. But inside, Ben smiled faintly: even though the world was harsh, at least now he could choose his own path.
When Ben arrived home after the long journey from the plantation, his aunt looked at him with concern. “Did you slip, Ben?” she asked softly, her voice filled with warmth and anxiety.
Ben simply nodded, his voice hoarse, “Yes, Auntie.” His bruised eyes and exhausted face told the story.
His struggle was clearer than any words. His aunt immediately led him to a chair, grabbed a damp cloth to wipe the sweat and dust from his face, while Ben sat silently, staring out the window that overlooked the rubber fields and rice paddies stretching into the distance.
For the past six months, every day had felt like a test. Ben woke before sunrise, accompanied his uncle to school, studied in the library, trekked hills and rivers to tend the rubber plantation, harvested coconuts, rice, corn, and cassava, tended livestock, and still found time to help Samir at the video game rental shop to earn extra pocket money. Sweat, abrasions, and pain were his daily companions, but they were also proof of his determination, slowly shaping him into a stronger person.
Finally, the long-awaited day arrived. Ben held the diploma he had long dreamed of. It felt warm in his hands, a symbol of all the struggle, exhaustion, and sacrifice he had endured. However, beneath that happiness, there was a bittersweet feeling—he had to leave Pagar Village, the place where he learned the meaning of hard work, friendship, and how even the slightest trace of hope could guide him through life.
That afternoon, the house was filled with emotion. His aunt looked at Ben with tears in her eyes, while his uncle and Hendra stood around him. Hendra hugged Ben tightly, patting his back. “Ben, remember, your journey has only just begun. Never forget who you are and how valuable you are,” he said in a warm but firm voice.
His aunt bent down and hugged Ben, tears streaming down her cheeks. “My son, keep fighting. No matter how tough the world is out there, remember this place—your home, your family. We will always love you,” she whispered, as if trying to instill strength in Ben to face the world.
Ben looked at each of their faces, feeling a mixture of happiness and sadness. He knew that, although leaving this home would be painful, everything he had learned in Pagar Village would be invaluable. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, as his thoughts began to drift to a future still full of uncertainty, adventure, and challenges that awaited him outside the village.
He looked out the window of the house once more, seeing the expansive fields, the rubber trees swaying in the afternoon breeze, and the path he had traversed countless times. In his heart, a new, bold, and hopeful determination arose—that he would keep walking, even though his steps now meant leaving the home where he had found meaning in life.
Ben boarded the bus that would take him back to his hometown. The seat by the window felt cold, but his eyes remained fixed on the outside, sweeping the views of the rubber fields, rice paddies, and hills he had once traversed every day. Every scene in Pagar Village flashed through his mind—the physically demanding rubber plantation, the calming small library, the game rental filled with laughter and adrenaline, and Hendra's warm and loving home.
As the bus began to move, Ben remembered the last conversation he had had with his aunt before leaving. His aunt looked up at him, handing him a thick envelope. “Ben, this is all the money you earned working hard on the plantation and helping with the farm. I didn’t use all of it for school. I saved the rest for you so you can use it when you get home,” his aunt said gently.
Ben was shocked, his eyes widening. “What do you mean, Aunt? All this time, I thought I was using all the harvest and rubber sap for school… but it turns out…” his voice choked, his eyes starting to well up with tears.
His aunt smiled faintly. “Yes, son. By being honest, you can earn more than you think. There’s no need to cheat or take what isn’t rightfully yours. You see, now you have enough money to cover your needs, and you can even use it for other things later. Sometimes these simple things are far more valuable than the naughty behavior you once engaged in.”
Ben lowered his head, his feelings mixed. He smiled faintly, then muttered softly, “In the past… I was always tempted to rob, steal, or do stupid things for money. But look… with hard and honest work, the rewards are much greater. How foolish I was.” Tears welled up in his eyes, not out of regret alone, but out of the realization that truly honest effort can yield real results.
Upon arrival at the bus station, his uncle was waiting on a bench. He patted Ben's shoulder, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Ben... take care of yourself on this journey. Remember, hard work and honesty always pay off."
Hendra also arrived, walking quickly toward Ben. "I'm proud of you, Ben. Remember, your journey is just beginning. Don't let the past hold you back. You are capable, and the world still has so much for you."
Not long after, Ben's parents appeared. Their eyes were filled with tears, their hands trembling as they hugged Ben. "My son... we always hoped you could come back like this. You've proven that..."
"You can be valuable," they whispered sincerely. Ben felt the warmth of their embrace, realizing that there were people who cared about him—despite his past full of mistakes, there were still those who supported him unconditionally.
In his hometown, Ben was warmly welcomed by his extended family. The sounds of laughter, jokes, and hugs filled the courtyard of their modest home. He gazed at the faces that had long missed him, feeling a long-lost peace. Pagar Village and all its memories now felt like provisions, not burdens. Although leaving the place was filled with emotion, Ben knew this was the beginning of a new chapter. Amid the simplicity of his new life, he felt the strength and serenity he had been searching for—and this time, he knew, his steps were entirely his own.

