JABAT TANGANKU DI TANAH SUCI (SEBUAH CERPEN)

Ayahku adalah seorang MacGyver. Dapatkah kau percaya itu? Aku menyebutnya demikian karena ia adalah orang yang luar biasa dan multitalenta. Satu sosok yang takkan henti aku kagumi atas keinginannya untuk mempelajari berbagai hal baru.

Ia adalah seorang ayah, kawan, pengamat politik, teknisi listrik, tukang kebun, penulis budayawan, ahli pengobatan tradisional, koki, dan masih banyak lagi. Karena itulah aku sangat bersyukur memilikinya. Ada begitu banyak pelajaran yang aku dapat darinya. Walaupun terkadang bersikap keras terhadap beberapa hal, ayah selalu memiliki prinsip yang senantiasa ia pegang rapat-rapat. Persahabatan mungkin adalah yang terkuat.

Dahulu, ayah memiliki seorang kawan yang ia kenal pertama kali di lingkungan kerja. Namanya Uwak Darto, dan ketika aku masih sangat kecil, ia kerap berkunjung ke rumah. Hingga suatu kali aku baru sadar bahwa ia bukanlah adik ayah. Uwak belum sempat menikah, ketika ia memutuskan untuk naik haji dengan uang yang telah lama ia kumpulkan. Ayahpun sebenarnya memiliki mimpi yang sama, namun mungkin belum waktunya, karena saat itu, ibu juga sedang sakit parah. Ayah pun merelakan kawannya itu berangkat ke tanah suci. Yang kemudian tak lagi dapat ia temui, karena Uwak termasuk dalam daftar korban tragedi lempar jumrah yang terjadi ketika itu.

1999, barangkali adalah tahun paling getir dalam hidup ayah dan aku. Selain harus kehilangan Uwak, pada akhir tahun itu, iu pun menyusulnya. Ketika hendak menyolatkan jenazah ibu, itulah pertama kalinya aku melihat ayah menangis sepanjang hidupku. Ia tak menangis dalam pemakaman Uwak, kawan terbaiknya. Ia tak pernah menangis selama menyeka keringat di dahi ibu yang dahulu terbaring tak berdaya. Apalagi, ia takkan menangis walau krisis moneter menghempaskan kami pada sebuah kondisi yang penuh dengan ketidakadilan: PHK.

Saat itulah aku berjanji bahwa aku takkan membiarkan ayah menangis lagi.

* * *

Bagi ayah, persahabatan itu ibarat sebuah sayap, yang harus terus dikembangkan, diperluas agar kita mampu terbang menggapai langit cita nan gemintang. Aku takkan pernah melupakan perkataannya. Persahabatan pun menjadi semacam hal yang penting bagiku.

Aku sangat suka menjadi kawan bagi siapapun, daripada hanya memiliki ikatan emosional teramat kuat dengan segelintir orang. Sebagaimana ayah, aku sangat percaya bahwa persahabatan akan memberikan sebuah keajaiban dalam hidup. Buktinya, Uwaklah yang mempertemukan ayah dan ibu untuk pertama kalinya. Dahulu, aku hanya berusaha mempercayai dan memeluknya erat-erat dalam hati. Kini, tampaknya aku perlu bersyukur telah mempertahankannya begitu lama, ketika seorang kawan lama datang padaku.

Aku memiliki begitu banyak mimpi, salah satunya adalah membawa ayah ke tanah suci. Lalu, aku serasa dijulangkan ke angkasa saat Akbar, kawan dekatku semasa SMA di Yogyakarta dahulu, mengajak bertemu. Kebetulan ia sedang mengerjakan sebuah proyek di satu perusahaan minyak besar di Palembang dan akhirnya kami setuju untuk bertemu di sebuah rumah makan. Di sana, kami berbincang tentang karir, keluarga, dan kenangan-kenangan kami saat SMA dahulu. Ia kemudian bertanya tentang ayah.

”Ayahmu sudah haji, boi?” aku sempat berpikir tentang arah pembicaraan ini, namun terlalu lama, aku menjawab, ”Hmm... Belum. Ah, jangan-jangan kau malah sudah?”

Akbar tertawa kecil, ”Justru aku berencana demikian...” ia sempat terhenti, ”Tapi, aku butuh dibimbing, boi. Kau tahu, masih banyak yang perlu aku pelajari...”

Aku mengangguk, dan ia kembali berkata, ”Aku sudah tak punya orang tua, kau tahu lah itu. Dan kita sudah berteman lama... Aku mau kita dan ayahmu naik haji bersama.”

Aku tersentak saat itu. Dari raut wajahnya, Akbar tampak serius.

Ayah memang memiliki ilmu yang banyak walau ia bukan tergolong ustadz yang ternama dan melalang buana berdakwah dari satu masjid ke masjid lainnya. Aku dan Akbar tahu persis hal itu. Namun entah mengapa ia memilih aku dan ayah. Aku hanya percaya ini karena perkawanan kami di masa lampau itu.

Rezeki datang terkadang bahkan tanpa alasan.

Awalnya aku sempat merasa gugup untuk mengambil keputusan itu. Ini memang bukan hal yang mudah. Aku meyakinkan Akbar bahwa ayah pasti akan sangat senang hanya bisa membimbingnya. Tak perlulah ia juga membawa kami serta bersamanya. Tapi Akbar bersikeras. Baginya ini adalah sebuah tanda balas jasa, sekaligus perekat tali kekeluargaan kami yang telah hampir sepuluh tahun terpisah pulau ini.

Tapi aku berpikir sekali lagi. Ini adalah demi mimpi ayah, bukan untukku. Barangkali pula inilah satu-satunya cara dan kesempatan untuk mewujudkan mimpi ayah itu.

* * *

Aku masih sangat percaya keajaiban dari sebuah persahabatan. Karena itu, aku tetap akan memperkenalkan diri pada orang-orang baru, dan menjabat ribuan tangan lagi. Sehingga sayapku dapat lebih lebar terkembang dan aku mempu menggapai angkasa lepas, dan membawa ayah serta bersamaku.

Kini, kami telah terbang. Dan di sinilah kami berlabuh. Di hadapan Ka’bah, aku, ayah, dan Akbar seakan tak mampu berkata-kata. Aku dan Akbar saling berpandangan, kemudian memegang bahu ayah yang terasa lemas. Hampir tak dapat kupercaya MacGyver kehidupanku ini akhirnya dapat menginjakkan kaki di tanah suci.

Ayah sempat menatap Akbar. Saat ia berbalik menatapku, kulihat air mata berlinang, jatuh di wajahnya yang kasar oleh bulu-bulu putih yang tercukur tipis. Entah, termangu oleh kebesaran-Nya, terharu akan mimpi terdalamnya yang terwujud, atau teringat akan sahabatnya, Uwak.

Yang pasti, aku telah gagal memenuhi janjiku itu.

17 April 2011;

Dengan penuh kasih sayang dan kebahagiaan,

kudedikasikan untuk ayahku seorang.

COLORS

“Are you sure?” a man named Brad asked his friend sitting next to him.
“I am. Let yourself having a longer rest tonight.” Nancy said. She could see the smile before her eyes, “I’ll get the next subway. Now just go away! Hush…” she laughed, then Brad followed, “Thank you.”
“Okay. See you…” he nodded and let the car moved on.
Standing on the sidewalk, Nancy took the last glance and went away.
The rush hour ended few hours ago. That is why she was late to come home, to let herself had a comfortable way back to her family. Nancy was the wife of Jack Dalton, a music producer who is quite famous in Santa Clara and San Francisco. Jack was British, but he moved to USA and stayed in a small apartment in SF with his younger brother. There he met Nancy, who worked as a journalist. They kept in touch after an interview until they both fell in love and got married. Right now, they had had a nine-year-old son named Tom.

She went downstairs at 34th street, then she stopped in front of a big brown board where many pamphlets and the schedule of the subway were attached. It told her that the subway would leave at 6.35 pm. There were still eight minutes. She was waiting by sitting on a bench.
That was summer, but she could not even take off her black coat. She tried to lessen the cold by wiping her exhausted face, when the operator said trough the speakers that the subway had arrived. Twelve, thirteen or more passengers walked out by that automatic door. So did it on other ones. After the rush had gone, she and some people went inside. She chose a seat next to the door. Not too crowded. As the subway shook a little, there were only six people she could see. Three lil’ kids sat calmly next to a sleepy man. Old man with his thick white beard hung a paper of the day by his right hand, while another one pushed his glasses closer to the eyes for few times. Other two people were girls who sat in silence and stared out of the window. Watching the people, station, walls and banners passed to somewhere on their back, with such thinking no one could ever guess.
She could feel the running air came from the edge of the door. This kind of solitude made her thinking about many things. One of them was the reality that she had to lose her beloved father, cause of cancer, a month earlier. Though she did not meet him regularly after her marriage, she was too shocked. That sudden news was so unbelievable for her. She did not know he suffered it. On a graveyard in Miami, Rick, her youngest bro, told that their father had kept the secret until he was seriously sick. To everyone. Until Rick found him fell to the ground, blood strained his fingers. That kind of remembrance always made her sick all the way. So she tried to let it gone away. She brought the memory of her past appeared in her mind. How beautiful the world is, when she bore a handsome baby in that autumn of 1995, completing her dear family, after three-year marriage.
But those all suddenly faded as she felt the exhaustion in her body. In the early morning, Jim called her and said his disappointment about her latest report. He used to say ‘what’s wrong with you, Nancy? Our readers won’t even take a glance on this kinda thing!’
That began the bad and tiring day for her.
She knew that being a journalist needed a hard work. Making research, upgrading her knowledge by reading many references, making observations or writing a report. These all made her so tired, physically and mentally.

After taking a walk up to the main street and another five minute one to the house, she saw a man hanging a cup by his hand, as she opened the door. Jack. She locked the door and cam over her husband.
“Hi, honey…” he kissed her on lips. He gave a long look at his wife, before she put her coat off and sat beside Jack in that living room.
“Wanna know something?” he asked. Nancy looked at him after trying to lay her head down to his shoulder, “These days, you look older every time you say ‘I’m home’…” he gave her a smile and a little caress.
“You could be right, Jack.” silence. She looked at the tv, but she could not give any attention, “I’m sick of this job… I just need to leave it a while, honey… It’ll soon get me crazy.” She wiped her face once more.
“Sure?” Jack asked. Nancy felt it was ridiculous that she had to answer the same question Brad asked half an hour earlier. So she only nodded. Jack continued asking, “Why?”
Nancy replied in low voice, “I wonder if you have ever met Jim before, talking to him with his ‘great’ manner…” silence, “Yes, he used to be the great, great as he orders and gets what he wants about the report without considering my effort. Even so to my friends’ reports.” She stopped a moment, “Now… I’m asking you, who’s sick?”
Jack did not answer. As he recognized this trouble of her, he held her hands.
“It’s getting worse everyday… You should know that, honey…”
“I have, dear… I have.”
Nancy stared at her husband. She saw a smile. Big one. What is wrong? It did not suit the situation, “What do ya mean?”
Jack’s eyes turned to the table and he moved his chin forward, “Do you see that?”
Nancy looked at it, but she did not understand it.
“Let me take it for you.” he took then gave it to her. Those were some small papers that Nancy had not ever seen before. But she knew what it is.
“Tickets?” she looked back at Jack. He nodded.
“I’ve planned it for you.”
“What?”
“I really consider you need holidays, dear… So I hope you won’t mind to accompany Tom to see the game…” Nancy looked at the two tickets. LA Galaxy, Tom’s favorite football club’s name appeared there.
Jack could guess the question in his wife’s mind.
“I know, I ‘ll also have to go there that day, but… I can’t join you. We’ll see after the match. Perhaps, we can do something more on the next day, can’t we?” slowly, Nancy gave her smile.
“Sure, but… how is about my work? And… has Tom known about it?”
“Shhh… don’t say anything to him until Friday, okay?”
Nancy showed astonishment, before nodding.
Jack continued, “And…do you need me to meet that Jim? I’ll go if you want me to…”
Sudden silence.
“You need to know, honey. We need more time with Tom… Sometimes, I felt so guilty to leave him. I wanna be a good parent.” Nancy replied.
“So do I…” silence once more, “So… what do you think?”
Nancy took a long breath,
“Jack?”
Jack turned his head from the TV.
“I don’t care of what Jim will say to me. We will go for it.” She smiled, “and… you don’t need to meet that annoying one. It’s my business…” they laughed.
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am…” “That’s gonna be great.”
“Has Tom slept?”
“I’m sure he has…”
Nancy then went upstairs. She washed her hands and face for a while. Looking at her own face reminded her of the face in the past. How it changed, what it expressed, and the memories behind it. She walked out to the door of Tom’s room. Unlocked. When she opened the door, she could see the boy had been asleep, while a vague little lamp was still echoing in deep solitude. Entering the room always gave a strange smell to Nancy’s nose. Smell of oil-paint which appeared from a half-finished painting and six other paintings hung on the wall. She wondered how Tom could live with that kind of smell inside his room. She took a long look at the son.
Her silent son. Her little Da Vinci.
If only she was not too much ambitious in her career, it would not be hurtful as she and Jack felt. Especially after the death of her mother-in-law, who often took care of Tom, he became more inactive boy. She was also sick of knowing these all.
But she would get a chance to make their relationship better.
After convincing herself that nothing is late to start, she stood. Tom was almost awake when she pulled the blanket up. Closing the window, she left the room in darkness, while the wind outside was starting to chill.
* * *
Few minutes earlier,
Tom heard a voice of familiar woman whom he had waited for the coming. His mother. He took few stairs down just to check whether his feeling was right. He found Jack and Nancy was sitting in front of the TV. One head laid on another’s shoulder. So, he considered to wait in his room.
He was about to go up when he heard his father saying his name. He turned back and listened for a moment. It seemed that the parents did not know he was there. Though it was not clear enough, he knew what his parents had planned. And it made him so excited and happy.
But when they talked about their guilt and how Tom’s personality is, smile slowly faded from his young face. Though he could hear laugh in that living room. Someone’s steps came upon him. When he heard this, he ran quietly back to his room. He pretended to be asleep, cause he did not want his parents to know that he heard them. Someone opened the door. And he could only hear what he or she did in his room. Window was closed and this person pulled his blanket in that windy night. There was a moment of silence before the sound of steps faded. He opened his eyes in the shadow of the lamp. His beloved mother was there. Familiar silhouette.
He did not move at all, but what he had heard rushed inside his mind. Sleep seemed too far away from him, though the body was tired of waiting. Ironically, he kept on it. An hour passed, and he was still sitting on the bed, cause all he wanted to do was to sketch. When silence became more glorious cause nobody else was awake in that house, Tom took a look on his corner of his room. He would do his work, while smile of oil was drawing closer.
* * *
“Be quick, honey... You don’t want to miss the plane, do you?” Nancy said, looking for her husband. A moment later, Jack appeared.
“Sorry.” He smiled, “Thank goodness I can find it!”
A CD was looked on the tip of his fingers, “Let’s go.”
When Nancy was going to lock the front door, Tom ran out of the car and said, “Wait! Wait, Mom! I forget to take my cap.”
“Oh, come on, honey... Is it...” she was about to tell him that it was unimportant fro him to bring, but she remembered her promise to herself, to make a beautiful day for both of them. So, she did not want to stain anything, especially in the beginning. She gave a caress to her son, “Let me take it for you... Where’d you put it, Tommy?”
“On my bed...” Nancy smiled.
“Okay, wait inside the car, okay?” after Tom nodded, she went inside to the room. She got what she looked for. But she felt something different in that room. The smell was thicker and the room seemed messier than what she saw few nights before. Near the table, a painting which she did not ever see before was hung on the wall. The last time she saw, it was a painting of two little kids on a park. But, the one that appeared in front of her at that time captured the back of a woman and a boy. They were painted in abstract form and gradation, but the painter could not hide the laugh on those round and smooth faces. The background was filled by more colors. People raising their hands, giant posters, stands, and street artists gave another atmosphere of joy.

Someone’s entering the room and he was Tom. They both looked at each other with no words, until Ton said,
“I... I wanna bring my sketch book, too...”
“Oh...” Nancy looked on the table and took a book, “This one?”
Tom nodded and came closer. Nancy opened the book.
“Well, these are great, Tom...” she was amazed by her son’s skill, “But... do you know, Tommy? I think this one’s fabulous... One of the best I ever saw...”
She pointed to the one near the table.
“Is that right, Mom?”
She nodded, “Yes, it’s probably cause I rarely see paintings except yours, son...”
They laughed, “Come on... Daddy’s waiting.”
The room once more stood in shadows. Waiting a hope to be true.

Hengky Kusuma, 28209
+++++

*Telah dipublikasikan

HE MADE IT, 31708

Clock’s ticking in solitude. The only sound I could hear from that house and a lonely woman. I fell on my old sofa, tried to ignore every single moment of that restless day. I was so exhausted that I even found TV couldn’t help me at all. My eyes were just flown onto an empty mind. Many times, I felt so tired to face it alone. And staring at this dumb house just made it worse. Reminded me to fading memories when John was still here. Though it’s hurtful, they had led me to reach a dusty photo album. Where his 2-dimension face lied inside. Smiles settled on our lips when we said promise on the wedding ceremony. Our first child’s photos appeared when I turned the page. He’s the only son we have, that we really love him by the rest of our heart. He’s named Ken.
A lovely husband and beloved son were enough for me to make my life perfect. Many weekends we spent on Saint Angel Park, sat on a long park bench, enjoyed the sunny sky above the boys playing soccer. That’s the place where Ken took his first step on this world. On few weeks later, he had been able to explore the park, chase butterflies, although he fell then cried for many times. He grew into a hyper-active kid when he was four. He liked to play soccer with older boys, climbed onto our dining table, even a tree on our backyard! But it didn’t go wrong to any accident, because John and I always stayed back to keep our eyes on him.
The happiness we gave to each other strengthen our family. Days were pretty beautiful for us. Until one day, everything unpredictably turned 180 degrees, when someone called. I picked up that phone, and what the man said shocked me. John who drove on his car had a collision a mile from his office. My finger was shaking, tears fell upon my cheek, dropped onto the floor, when I saw the body of my dearest man I ever had (except Dad), covered with much blood, frozen, breathless. I could only give a hug when Ken, whom I phoned, directly arrived from his school with a teacher. I didn’t allow him to see it, because it could be too horrible for a kid like him. But, when he cried, I knew that he understood the reason why.

2 years had left when I heard someone opened the door. I closed the album and placed it on the place where it’s supposed to be.
“Mom… I’m home…”
When I heard that, I knew who’s the person out there. I waited Ken to appear on that living room when he was still closing the door. There was something fell to the floor. Perhaps, it was his bag. Then, Ken appeared with such an unordinary expression on his face. I knew it, ‘cuz that clipped one couldn’t lie my eyes.
“Look at my son… You’re looked so tired…”
He walked slowly and sat beside me. His silence proved that there was something he thought.
“What’s wrong, Ken? Is there anything you wanna tell?” I tried to caress his soft hair, and found a little sweat there… I also saw much dust and dirt on his short. But, he didn’t answer me. Ken really love playing soccer. I could see it, even when he was 3! So, he joined the soccer club in his school. And, on that afternoon, his team played on a little competition. But, I was so sorry because I wasn’t there to support him
“How ‘bout the game, honey?”
“We’ve lost, Mom…” he said it in frown. My lil’ Ken couldn’t accept that result…
“Oh… It doesn’t matter at all, honey…” “You still have other games, don’t you? Maybe… your team can win those matches… “ I tried to cheer him. “Don’t be sad…”
“That isn’t the problem, Mom…”
“So, why, Ken? Just tell me…” he kept silence for a moment.
“My friends…. They hate me… I knew it when they looked at me…”
“Why do they have to do?”
“I made an own goal, Mom… In this match… I made my team lost the game!” he started crying before my arms.
“Don’t cry, Ken… They should understand what you did… It’s just a mistake…”
“No, Mom… They hate me… There’s no one who wanna talk to me after the game.” I couldn’t stop his crying.
“Even… Rick?” I asked about the coach’s reaction to Ken.
“No, Mom… , everyone did… except Rick…”
“I know it, Ken…” “ Don’t you know? He’s the best soccer coach I’ve ever known in Santa Monica! We grew u together, Ken… He was like you. He always played on the backyard, or the park. He won’t be angry with you because of only an own goal…” and he was still crying.
“I don’t wanna play anymore, Mom…”
“Oh… Don’t say that, honey… I know that you really do. Rick must be so sorry if he heard that.”
Ken didn’t say any word for more. But a phone call from Rick 3 days later told me what happened next. He said that Ken didn’t attend their last-2 training session. I told Rick about our talk on that afternoon. He then asked me to flatter Ken to join the team back, because they needed him.
Few hours later, Ken and I had been in our car, in our way to a field where Rick’s team had their training. Firstly, he rejected to go. But, after I told him about Rick’s call, he finally walked into the car with all his equipments, although in necessity. For a long time, we didn’t have any conversation inside the car.
“Just talk, Ken… What are you thinkin’ about?”
“Mom… Is what Rick said right?”
“Sure… They want you to be there….” We fell in silence once more “Listen, Ken… What do you learn from a game?” he didn’t answer. His face told a confusion “How to feel being a winner, or the loser? It’s more than that, honey… You can learn about trust… “ “When they believed on your ability, they must be ready for the consequences. Whatever the result… win or lose, they’ve made a choice, Ken… So, if you wanna be trusted, you have to trust everyone else. Although they have weakness or mistake. I’m sure that Rick has told it to your friends.”
Our car arrived in front of the school area.
“Come out, honey… They’ve waited for you…” I gave him a smile.
“Bye, Mom…”
as he walked into the building, the air started moving inside the car. Once more.


And right at the moment, I’m looking at Ken who’s running to me, after making his first goal. His friends are also running after him, with wide smiles. Some of them are screaming, “Goal!!!!” meanwhile, Ken, my next dearest man, is waving at me…:
“I MADE IT, MOM!”

-fin-


Cerpen ini telah dipublikasikan*

NOR TOMORROW

“ Honey, bring me my coffee, please…” said Mr. Bent to his wife. He then walked out to the front door, and waited on the terrace.
“ Wait a minute, honey ! “ a woman named Barbara shouted in elegance. There was a bright smile on her face. She always waited a day like this. Unpredictable time that she had, with all members of her family. Moment whom she seldom had on Sunday, and other holidays.
There was only the master, who often been absent at home. Their two children, Jesse, the seven years old daughter, and baby Mary were always been taken care by their energetic mom. Mr. Bent had to be proud of her. Ashton Bent worked as a public relation officer of a company. So, he was faced by the condition, that he often had to leave his family to other towns, even countries. He lost the chances to get closer to his own children. But, he loved, really did love them. Directly by phone, he sometimes had a short talk to homies.
And now, an unordinary Wednesday, he was there, on their home. After celebrating Christmas few days ago, he was too tired to do any work. That was a long trip to New York, from Seattle. A coast-to-coast trip. There they visited their old family. Uncle Kurt, grandpa, grandma. Even Aunt Haillie who stayed at Honolulu, joined us.
That was twenty to eight when a bus stopped in front of the house. School bus “ Jesse…Your bus has arrived…!” Mr. Bent called his elder daughter in strong voice.
“ Yeah, Dad ! Wait…! I’m coming ! “ she answered, in a hurry.
On the back of this closed door, he heard a voice “ Mom, I’m going…Bye !” little Jesse appeared, at the moment Barbara said something.
“ Bye, Dad,……I love you…!” She ran quickly.
“ Me too…” then he remembered “ Jesse ! Don’t forget to eat your lunch, ok ?” Mr. Bent reminded her from a long distance. And Jesse gave him her thumb up. She took a seat near the window, and then she raised her hands out the window. A perfect good bye. He replied it.
After few minutes, Mr. Bent went inside. Barbara was washing the dishes. Mr. Bent took his quarter-full cup of coffee on his right hand “ Honey, lemme help you…” he put off the cup “ I think our baby wants little fresh air, Barbara. Take her to the outside. “
“ Hmm…ok. “ Barbara then clean her wet hands of soap, and went upstairs. Mr. bent heard the baby cried loudly. He didn’t know why, cause during the night, lil’ Mary has slept calmly.
While washing, he tried to remember the last time he were home, before. He really missed this place, although they were only separated for two months. This job has taken away his responsibility as a father. Even, he didn’t know what date today is ! So, with hands-full of soap he walked to the living room, to look at the calendar. 31st December ! Why didn’t he remember that the next day was the next year too ? Quite ridiculous….Then he went back to the kitchen.
For next to weeks, he would be out of work. He had also arranged a plan, to take the family to have fun. Some places, such as theatre, a little picnic on Saint Angle’s Park, or…anything ! He wouldn’t waste the time as he did in the past. A busy man like him, needed to be a pouch- potato, too, didn’t he ? Snacks on the left hand, and tv remote on the right one. What a shame.
After finishing his last plate, He remembered one thing.
“ Thirty first of December ??? Oh, God ! “ he got the answer “ Jesse will have her birthday tomorrow ! On the new year ! Me fool ! “ he cried in mind.
Plan B is needed for this unexpected condition. Without telling Barbara, he went downtown, to get a gift for her daughter. Nobody knew it. He wanted to make a sweet surprise for them, Jesse, and Barbara too. Mary was to young to understand it. On the downtown, he found many colors shone behind that blue sky of dusk. That was at seven evening, when he saw a kid asked her mom to buy her a plastic trumpet. Green, silver, red, yellow, they were looked so bright on his eyes, when the light of his car fell on them. On another side of street, he found a picture of Santa which hadn’t been picked out by its owner. Then the snow fell in warmth. Warmth between the Christmas and new year. He always dreamed to have the moment like this. Then he would have it. Let him made an unforgettable b’day surprise for Jesse, and let them celebrated this end of 1995. Four hours later.
***
Jesse woke up by a thin voice ” Jesse…Jesse… Wake up…” she saw something “ Happy birthday….” A pink Teddy bear doll laid beside her, it spoke ! No, it was moved by something behind. She was surprised a lot. Then, when she raised her body, she knew who’s behind.
“ Dad..? What ....” she couldn’t speak.
“ Happy birthday, Jesse…” He appeared himself.
“ O….Thank you, dad….” She still couldn’t believe i.
“ And…here’s a gift, special gift for you…” she smiled, whether happy or what ? She tried to say something.
“ Do you love this doll, Jesse ?” Mr. Bent was proud of himself.
“ Yes, Dad…of course…”
“ Ok, lady, this is new year too, isn’t it ? I’ve bought a trumpet for you…let’s celebrate it ! Wake your mother up…” he took her on his arm
“ But…Dad…” she said in the silence of night. Outside, they heard somebody has made noise by their trumpets.
“ Ya ? “ he stopped his walk.
“ My birthday isn’t today….it’s 2nd January….”
Both of them were quiet in sudden. They saw at each other. After a moment, Mr. Bent asked her back “ A…Are you sure ? Not 1st ?”
“ Yes, Dad…This is my own birthday…I won’t forget it….”
Ashton fell in shame, deeper than the deepest one you could think. He remembered that Jesse was born at 00.21 am, 2nd January !! This feeling exploded in his mind, but he tried to stay calm “ It’s not a big problem, is it ? Hmm…why don’t we call it…hmm…’early birthday’ ? Hahaha…isn’t it fun? “
“ It isn’t, Dad…! But…I forgive you” they laughed.
“ Thank you, my lil’ lady….” Then they went downstairs, to wake Barbara. They celebrated this new year on backyard, matching fireworks, blowing trumpets, and lil Mary? She slept in peace, inside.

A year later…
“ Wake up, Jesse….” Knowing someone behind her, she turned back. She could see a yellow light trough the wall. And she saw two people there. One, hung a beautiful on his hands.
“ Mom ? Dad? What….”
“ Happy birthday, my lil’ princess !!! Blow up the candle, please…. “ they surprised her so much. After trying to sit on her own bed, she did it.
“ Say your prayers….” Barbara asked her.
“Thanks, Mom, Dad….but, do I have to tell you something ?”
“ What ?? ” Ashton asked in confusion.
“Hmm…is there something wrong ?” she asked them back “ Uh, come on, Dad, Mom….” She put a little smile on her pretty face of eight.
“ Today’s first January….And my birthday will just on tomorrow….the 2nd one…” sudden silence, quite long.
“ Is that right ? Let me check it on calendar…” Barbara said.
“Today’s Thursday, right?” silence “ oh my God !” Mrs. Bent looked at it, and then Ashton sunk his head down, tried to keep his laugh. He knew it, Thursday, 2nd November ! They forgot to turn over the calendar !! They laughed. While the baby Mary was still knowing nothing. Once more, Mr. Bent, you got your trouble…And know, you brought your wife too…Quite better, isn’t it ? Is it difficult to differenciate new year and a birthday? For them, perhaps not.

Cerpen ini telah dipublikasikan*

A DUSK ABOVE SAINT ANGEL, 24708

I’m gazing at my last-longer arms, tryna reach somethin’ invisible into both sides of sky. It has been more than a half-century, million nights and days, but I’m still here, at exactly the same place where I was ‘placed’ at 1951. Hahaha… Ridiculous! It seems like only few months ago when I was like those fences of wood. One meter in high. I can still remember how Paz, Mr. Rubin’s dog, who lived two blocks after that T-junction, urinated me without his guilty face. Makin’ my young leaves tasted those bad-smelled liquid of waste, which surprisingly grew me up more than any chemical one did. Did Paz suffer metabolism problem? Right now, I don’t even know where he and his master is, as the time running incredibly fast.
So did Mr. Hernandez, who always watered me at five in the evening, almost each day, to help me from getting dehydration on that horrible summer time. The one who won’t be forgotten. Though there were so many plants whom he could choose, but, he chose me! And here is the place where I was planted by his charm hands. With those kids of him behind, looked at me. On this Saint Angel Park. He was a special person for me. Tough we had to be separated forever, and he had to lie under the cemetery’s ground, somewhere out there. I’ve sailed on a long lifetime of two human generations. Now, I’ve found a new soul mate of mine. Jessica’s her name. She’s no the another girl but Mr. Hernandez’s daughter. He had taught a lot of good things to her. Especially, how to love me as her father did.
With her success as a writer, she has been able to enjoy the rest of her life, on her 40’s, at the moment. She still live on that 2-floor house, where all the memories of this family are kept inside. Sometimes, she walked to me, lied before my ‘knees’ of wood. My trunk. As what you are doing right now, friend. With her book full of sloppy notes which I can’t read. Hmm… Whutta peaceful moment. I could see her smile when she got such inspirations, while I was covering her from the heat of sunshine. She loves me too, friend. Intentionally, she spreads little manure on soil around me, tough I had been able to survive by myself. I don’t really need it. But, if only I could say a few words, I’ll say thanks.
Our first introduction wasn’t good enough for me to remember. Lil’ Jesse who saw me at her second sight, came with four or five friends of hers. Then, they picked a lot of my leaves away, which were weird and beautifully colored enough for them. Just for their school assignment! I was so young, so I shouted as loud as I can do, but they didn’t understand. Of course! It frightened me so much, because my life depended on those thin leaves. I breathes from them, transforming sunshine into energy. But I have a different condition right now. Although many kids want to pick a hundred or more of my leaves, I’ll welcome them wth smile.
I’ve grown so big and strong that I could survive on autumn and summer, with only leaves which can be counted by the fingers of one man’s hand! That was hard to lose the sunshine, but when spring came, I felt like reborn. This always be the months full of joy. Every day, a lot of people came to this park to make a little picnic beneath my umbrella of leaves, and other trees. I did feel any loneliness no longer. Kids played ‘hide and seek’ on their holidays. Some of them hid on my trunk. Heavy boys of seven and five. Meanwhile, other boys ran over the ball, kicked and rushed, on this withering grass.
I’ve great memory, friend. Although that creature named ‘man’ doesn’t know it. Though we all –the plant-kind- also don’t understand, even remember how and in what way we were born. The earliest moment of my life I can remember is the time when I was in a black polybag, covered with soil, with other plants around me. I couldn’t count the number of them. But, there were so many creatures same with me, plant, but in different specimen. Finally, we were taken here, and many people separated us with a gap far enough.
“Isn’t it right, palm?”
I ask to my closest friend. He’s doesn’t answer me. Perhaps, he didn’t hear me. Or, he has slept. I can’t differentiate whether he’s asleep or awake. He only give me a low voice like grumbling, as a sign. But, I can understand what he means to talk to me. Cause we have long and interesting talks each day, since we had the same height. He has grown marvelously up to three times of mine. But, I’m stronger and bigger. He’s my only old friend, who still survive, while the other had been cut off for road construction, as what that selfish Governor ordered, or died because of oldness and illness. Man is a complicated creature. They could be kind or evil at the same time. What a sadness to remember.
This palm, with more than ten other palm trees, dominate this park’s view. Perhaps, it can be, because this is LA, where we are. This is California. Hollywood’s here, world! I don’t know why that kind of plant can be symbolic for this state on west coast. There’s a moment I can’t forget about this dearest friend. One day, many years ago. Yes, exactly at the time when that leader of this nation was shot on a moving car. Amazingly turned excitement into scream of hysteria and tears on the crowd. He tragically died before more than a thousand eyes watched television.
That was a peaceful afternoon, far away from the chaos on DC. Many kids played with happiness here. I guessed, they were students from an elementary school. These kids ran in different places, directions, and activities of what they wanted. While some teachers watched behind. The other tried to prepare the lunch for them. I saw three girls played under the palm. Suddenly, a coconut which had been ripe, fell upon a girl who wore a glasses. Upon her shoulder, really hard. Horrible. Fortunately, not upon her head. Palm didn’t know about it. Cuz he also didn’t mean to do that. So, when his coconut had been ripe, it will fell by itself. Being blown by the air, or being gnawed by rats, palm can only do nothing.
So, the girl fell down, with her face kissing grass. But, she was still awake. Her crying exploded, calling out the tachers, while her hand couldn’t move anymore. What a pity. Then, some men took her somewhere. I could see something different on her hinge’s form. It must be very hurtful. Palm were silent when he knew it. He started regretting. Sometimes, I tried to calm him down.
“It’s not your fault, Palm… Just relax…”
But, it’s funny to see him being so worried, for the first time. For few nights, I heard him grumbled.
“I’m guilty, I’m guilty!!!!” although softly.
I always think bout a question. Do we –our kind, plant- have a will to live in this rude world? No! we just walk on this life. We only have wishes and hopes. So, who does have the biggest will? I believe God has… Because I also believe that God is the only One that responsible ‘bout this life… and all His creatures. I’m prying for Him, right now. Although I don’t even know what kind of Thing He is, or what He’s like… But, this is why I was created. To praise Him. It’s all that I know.

Palm ever imagined about Jamaica, the nation whom he calls ‘Paradise’. Where his kind came from, and be proud as a national symbol. Even for their music, reggae. At east, he can be proud of this identity. And… how about me? Who am I? what kind of plant, what is my name? I often be called as ‘Leavy’. Like when those kids called their friends: ‘Let’s take a shelter under that ‘leavy’ tree!’ or ‘Let’s play under that ‘leavy’ tree!’.
Is that my real name? ‘Leavy’?
Because other people looked like intellectuals ever came, and said the word ‘oak’ while an old man was pointing his finger to me. Fortunately, I don’t have fruits as palm has.
One day, I thought so hard. How that men, such as Mr. Hernandez, Jesse, and Mr. Rubin been born? Did they appear or fall from the sky? I didn’t think so. Often, I saw lil’ man. He’s so weak, and he can’t speak but only cry in many times. But, are they the littlest phase of that sweaty creature’s history? I do only know, that slow but sure, they will grow, smarter, becoming a rebel or follower; making history or being a loser. Then their story ends tragically under the tombstone. Do they ought to e remembered? Do I? Even, sometimes, they didn’t care about us. But, is there a phase before that beginning one? I ever been so curious, because in only few months, Jesse changed to be very fat. Especially her stomach. I could see her sitting on the terrace from here. Then there were a noise and anxiety which are gone so quick. Jesse and her husband (I dunno his name) went somewhere. Suddenly, anything turned into laugh and happiness with a grumble of little man which cannot be understood. And it happened too, three or our years later.
Where did they come from? If I know it. Even, I was so confused to know the reason why Jesse became very slim as she was before. If my kind could understand it. But it’s impossible. How could it be? We’re jut the object, and they’re the subject. They are more powerful. But, sometimes, with the help of nature and God’s will, we can beat them back.
Oh… look at her, friend… Look how beautiful little Linda is. With her brown wavy hair, and a green bandana, she reminds me of her mother, when she was a kid. And that boy is behind her. A handsome boy named Mark who hands a plastic ball so clean. I guess, it is the new one. They are moving closer while talking happily. Is a family so happy as they are? I want to feel it. No… I’ve felt it, though it’s only one-way relationship, but it’s valuable. I call them family, my family. Yes, they are. A family whose the lifetime I still want to watch on. If I can survive for a longer time. I’ve been so weak, friend. Worms, and rats gnaw me harder and deeper. I believe that ‘time of end’ will come on me. And I’ll be somewhere beautiful. I dunno when it’s.
The sky’s darker. Orange shine has disappeared. Birds are singing and make a line on long cables. The family had just walked in front of me, and went inside the house. For many times, I hate to be in this way. So lonely, and left. Night will come, friend. Do you still want to lie upon my chest? I’ve told a lot to you, but you don’t really care. Do you understand what I talked about? Wake up… Go back to your master. Of course, you miss that biscuits, milk, and bones that you buried in the yard, don’t you?
Okay, if you hear me… I just wanna say… Good night!

Translated from ‘Musim Berganti di St. Angel’


Cerpen ini telah dipublikasikan di majalah SHIELD.

COMMENTS ON SHIRLEY JACKSON’S ‘THE LOTTERY’

Firstly, this short story seems uninteresting for me, because the beginning is so smooth, telling about a tradition of a society. The tradition is called the lottery. I have a difficulty in understanding the nature and rule of this tradition because they are quite complicated. The vocabulary used also becomes barrier for me in understanding it. I thought that the person who gets a paper with a black spot inside it will win the lottery and be given prizes. However, my perception changes when knowing that the Hutchinson, who get the paper, do not accept the result. It becomes clearer in the end of the second draw for the Hutchinson. Tessie, the person getting the marked paper, will not get prizes. On contrary, people hit her with stones. Here, the use of stones mentioned in the beginning part becomes clearer too.
After reading the whole parts of this short story, I still think that the story is not much interesting. Even though there is a surprise in the ending part, there is no value to achieve

READING JACK LONDON’S ‘THE LAW OF LIFE’

‘The Law of Life’ as a short story written by Jack London is quite difficult to understand, because the vocabulary used is not familiar for me. It’s also because the text is not perfectly right in grammar. But, there are some advantages that we can learn from the content of this story, such as:
- Wisdom, which is shown by Old Koskoosh, as the main character of the story.
- We can open our eyes wider or know better about poverty by reading this text.
- We can learn about the struggle of surviving life in any bad condition, which is shown by the tribesmen in this story.
- Knowing that the tribesmen live from the existence of the nature, so we will be inspired to keep our nature, or environment.

Both the name of characters, and the setting of this story are quite different than any short story I have ever read. The condition of poverty, and Barbaric life is completed by the writer’s skill in description, and interpretation. We can see it from the language used by Jack London in this story, which is so artistic, or, literary.