That afternoon, the air was scorching hot. Even the shadow of the guava tree in the yard seemed to tremble under the blazing sun. From inside the house, Mother's shouts burst like thunder in a dry sky.
"This little money, huh? You think we can live on hope, huh?" Her tone was sharp, filled with anger that had been piling up for years.
Father stood near the kitchen door, sweat dripping down his face, his expression weary. "I've worked hard, dear. The workshop's quiet, everyone's struggling lately."
"Excuses!" Mother slammed a spoon onto the table. "Always excuses. Other people work hard too, but they can live properly!"
Tufi sat in the corner of the room, head down. He was drawing in a thin notebook with torn edges, pretending not to hear. But he couldn't ignore the sounds the shouting, the heavy breaths, the scrape of furniture.
He looked up at them with his small, anxious eyes. "Mom… please stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Be quiet, Tufi! Don't get involved in adult matters!" Mother snapped without even looking at him.
The boy blinked slowly. He clenched the edge of his shirt, then stood, slipped on his sandals, and went out silently. The wooden door creaked softly as it closed behind him.
Outside, the world felt a little lighter. The wind carried the smell of soil and the distant laughter of playing children. He took a deep breath even the hot air felt better than the shouting at home.
Tufi walked along the dirt road leading to the village field. The field was wide but uneven, full of weeds and small stones. A few children were playing soccer, laughing freely without worries.
"Hey, Tufi's here!" shouted a slightly chubby boy, dribbling the ball barefoot. That was Rocky — his childhood friend. Tufi smiled and ran over to join them. Dust rose, the sun glinting off their sweat-soaked hair.
"Goal! Goal!" Rocky shouted as the ball rolled between two sandals that served as a goalpost.The kids cheered, laughing so hard they fell to the ground.
For the first time that day, Tufi laughed too. All the weight of home seemed to vanish with the sweat on his forehead. He forgot the sound of breaking plates, forgot his father's empty gaze.
But in between the game, he occasionally glanced toward home. It wasn't far — just a few houses away from the field. In his head, fear still lingered: Is Mom still angry? Has Dad gone again?
"Why are you daydreaming?" Rocky threw the ball toward him. "Play, come on!"
Tufi chuckled and kicked the ball back. Time passed quickly. The sun began to set, the sky turning orange. One by one, the children went home. Rocky patted Tufi's shoulder.
"Let's play again tomorrow. You're enrolling in school tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah," Tufi nodded. "Mom said I'll go to the public elementary school."
"Cool! We'll be in the same class!" Rocky said excitedly.
They laughed again. But when Rocky went into his house, Tufi stopped in front of the small, half-broken fence. In the yard, a woman was sweeping leaves. Aunt Hani — Rocky's mother.
Her hair fell neatly over her shoulders, her face was beautiful, her body is also sexy, and her eyes full of warmth when she saw Tufi standing there.
"Tufi, still playing this late? Aren't you afraid your mom will scold you?"
Tufi shook his head quickly, lowering his gaze politely.
"I was just heading home, Auntie."
"Wait a second." Aunt Hani smiled, taking a piece of fried banana from a plate on the porch table."Here, for you. It's still warm."
Tufi hesitated but accepted it.
"Thank you, Auntie."
"Next time, bring your mom over to visit, okay?" she said gently."You're a good boy, I'm sure you'll make her proud."
The words were simple, but they pierced straight into Tufi's small heart. No one had ever said something like that to him before. He could only nod, glancing at her — his eyes filled with admiration he couldn't explain.
It wasn't the admiration of an adult toward beauty,but of a child who just realized — some mothers could smile without shouting.
As he walked home, his heart felt warm. If only my mom were like Aunt Hani, he thought. Maybe my house wouldn't be so scary.
The sky was turning purple-red when Tufi reached his home. He paused, listening. No shouting. No breaking plates. Only the sound of crickets from the backyard.
Slowly, he opened the door. Inside, Mother was sitting on the floor, peeling onions.Her face looked tired, but not angry this time. Father sat on a bamboo chair, staring blankly, but not saying anything harsh.
"Hi, Mom…" Tufi said softly, uncertain.
Mother looked at him briefly.
"Where have you been?"
"Playing ball with Rocky."
She didn't answer right away, but her tone was calmer.
"Wash your feet, then help me."
"Okay, Mom."
Tufi washed his feet in a small bucket near the kitchen, then sat beside her. He took one clove of onion and tried to help, even though his eyes stung. Mother glanced at him, then said softly,
"You're enrolling in school tomorrow, right? Don't wake up late."
"Yes, Mom. I promise."
Father's voice came from the front room — flat but calm.
"I'll take you there. I'll stop by the workshop after."
Mother looked at him briefly. There was no anger anymore, only fatigue.
"Alright."
That was all. But to Tufi, those two words felt like a small miracle. Night slowly fell. The oil lamp glowed dimly. Outside, the sound of insects replaced the chaos of the day.
Tufi lay on his mat. He couldn't sleep yet. Aunt Hani's smile still lingered in his mind. He stared at the leaky roof, where a sliver of moonlight shone through.
"Other moms can be so gentle…" he murmured."Maybe if I'm good, Mom will be like that someday."
He closed his eyes, imagining tomorrow — wearing a new uniform, writing in his book, sitting in class with Rocky. There, maybe there'd be no shouting, no breaking plates.Only laughter and the teacher's calm voice.
The night breeze slipped through the cracks in the wall.
From the kitchen, Mother's voice called out:
"Tufi, are you asleep?"
"Not yet, Mom."
"Wake up early tomorrow, okay? Don't be late."
"Okay, Mom."
Silence returned. But this time, it wasn't frightening — it was peaceful.
The next morning, the sun was just rising when Mother prepared rice and simple fried tempeh.Father was already ready on the porch, wearing his worn-out shirt.
"Eat quickly," Mother said, putting a plate in front of Tufi."So you'll have energy for the walk to school."
The boy nodded, eating eagerly. He knew today was important.
Father watched from his seat.
"Study hard, okay? Don't be like me, doing hard labor all the time."
"Yes, Dad," Tufi answered softly but firmly.
When he finished eating, Mother looked at him for a moment.
"Your uniform looks nice, right?"
Tufi looked down at himself a white shirt a bit too big, light blue shorts, and old shoes that had been stitched back together But he smiled brightly.
"It looks great, Mom!"
Mother gave a faint smile.
"Alright. Let's go."
The three of them walked together down the dirt road Tufi had taken the day before. In the distance, Rocky waved from his front yard. Aunt Hani stood beside him, smiling warmly.
"Good luck at school, Tufi!" she called cheerfully.
"Thank you, Auntie!" Tufi replied excitedly.
Mother glanced briefly at Hani, then gave a stiff nod. No smile, but no anger either.
Along the way to school, Tufi looked around rice fields, little birds, the clear blue sky. His heart felt light. He felt like he was starting something new. When they arrived at the school gate, Mother crouched to fix his collar.
"Don't be afraid, okay? Every child starts from zero. Listen to your teacher carefully."
"Yes, Mom."
Father patted his shoulder.
"If someone's mean to you, don't cry. Stand up for yourself. But if you can, be their friend."
"Yes, Dad."
They waited for a moment by the gate. Other children were entering one by one, some with smiling parents. Mother watched them, her face expressionless but her eyes glistened a little.
Tufi saw that, then said softly,
"Mom, I'll bring home good grades so you'll be happy."
Mother paused for a moment.
"Alright, son. I'll be waiting."
It was the first thing she had said that day with a gentle voice.
Later that evening, arguments might return. Money was still tight, life still hard. But for that one moment, as the three of them stood at the school gate, the world seemed to stop spinning.
Tufi held his mother's hand tightly. He knew his house hadn't changed but today felt like the beginning of something good.