A Name on Drawer Fourteen

The village hall had a wall of small wooden drawers. There were sixty of them. Each drawer held paper envelopes full of seeds.

Balai desa itu punya dinding berisi laci-laci kayu kecil. Jumlahnya enam puluh. Setiap laci menyimpan amplop-amplop kertas berisi benih.

A sign hung above the drawers. It said, "Take seeds. Grow them. Bring seeds back." That was the whole rule. Nobody paid, and nobody signed a paper.

Sebuah papan tergantung di atas laci-laci itu. Tulisannya, "Ambil benih. Tanam. Kembalikan benih." Hanya itu aturannya. Tidak ada yang membayar, dan tidak ada yang menandatangani kertas.

Hugo worked there on Saturday mornings. He was fifteen. He sorted envelopes, wrote labels and swept the floor. In return, the librarian let him eat the biscuits on the table.

Hugo bekerja di sana pada Sabtu pagi. Ia berumur lima belas tahun. Ia memilah amplop, menulis label, dan menyapu lantai. Sebagai imbalan, pustakawan membolehkannya makan biskuit di meja.

His best friend Xavier came every Saturday too. Xavier did not like seeds. He liked the hall. It was quiet and smelled of old wood.

Sahabatnya, Xavier, juga datang setiap Sabtu. Xavier tidak menyukai benih. Ia menyukai balai itu. Tempat itu tenang dan berbau kayu tua.

In June, Xavier's family decided to move to a city far away. They were going to leave in two weeks. Xavier told Hugo on the steps of the hall. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Pada bulan Juni, keluarga Xavier memutuskan pindah ke kota yang jauh. Mereka akan berangkat dua minggu lagi. Xavier memberi tahu Hugo di tangga balai. Keduanya lama tidak berkata apa-apa.

On the last Saturday, Xavier came with a small paper bag. He held it out in both hands. "Open it," he said.

Pada Sabtu terakhir, Xavier datang membawa sebuah kantong kertas kecil. Ia mengulurkannya dengan kedua tangan. "Buka," katanya.

Inside was a tiny cactus. It sat in a pot the size of an egg cup. It was round and green, with white dots. It was no bigger than a thumb.

Di dalamnya ada sebuah kaktus mungil. Kaktus itu berada di pot sebesar cangkir telur. Bentuknya bulat dan hijau, dengan bintik-bintik putih. Ukurannya tidak lebih besar dari ibu jari.

"This is Pip," said Xavier. "I had him for four years. He never grew."

"Ini Pip," kata Xavier. "Aku memeliharanya empat tahun. Dia tidak pernah tumbuh."

"Why are you giving him to me?"

"Kenapa kamu memberikannya padaku?"

"Because he cannot come in the car. My mother says the pot will break." Xavier looked at the floor. "Take care of him, okay?"

"Karena dia tidak bisa ikut di mobil. Kata ibuku potnya akan pecah." Xavier menunduk memandang lantai. "Rawat dia, ya?"

"Okay."

"Ya."

"And one more thing." Xavier pointed at the wall. "Drawer fourteen is empty. It has no seeds. I always looked at it and felt bad."

"Dan satu hal lagi." Xavier menunjuk dinding. "Laci empat belas kosong. Tidak ada benihnya. Aku selalu melihatnya dan merasa sedih."

"What about it?"

"Kenapa dengan laci itu?"

"Put something in it by the end of summer. Something from Pip. Put my name on the label." Xavier tried to smile. "Then, when I come back, something has my name."

"Isi dengan sesuatu sebelum musim panas berakhir. Sesuatu dari Pip. Tulis namaku di labelnya." Xavier mencoba tersenyum. "Jadi, ketika aku kembali, ada sesuatu yang bernama aku."

Hugo took the little pot. It was very light.

Hugo mengambil pot kecil itu. Pot itu ringan sekali.

"Cactus seeds?" he said. "Pip is too young. He does not even have a flower."

"Benih kaktus?" katanya. "Pip masih terlalu muda. Dia bahkan belum berbunga."

"I know. That is why it is a hard one." Xavier stood up. "Promise?"

"Aku tahu. Makanya ini sulit." Xavier berdiri. "Janji?"

"I promise," said Hugo.

"Aku janji," kata Hugo.

Xavier left on Monday. Hugo did not go to say goodbye. He stayed in his room and did not look out.

Xavier berangkat pada hari Senin. Hugo tidak pergi mengucapkan selamat tinggal. Ia tetap di kamarnya dan tidak melihat ke luar.

That night, he put Pip on the windowsill in his room. He looked at him for a long time. "Don't worry," he said. "I know what to do."

Malam itu, ia menaruh Pip di ambang jendela kamarnya. Ia memandanginya lama sekali. "Jangan khawatir," katanya. "Aku tahu apa yang harus dilakukan."

He did not know at all. So the next morning, he asked the librarian.

Sebenarnya ia sama sekali tidak tahu. Maka keesokan paginya, ia bertanya kepada pustakawan.

"Cactus seeds?" She raised her eyebrows. "Pip is very young. He needs sun, and he needs a lot of patience."

"Benih kaktus?" Perempuan itu mengangkat alisnya. "Pip masih sangat muda. Ia butuh sinar matahari, dan butuh kesabaran yang banyak."

"How much water?"

"Berapa banyak airnya?"

"Very little. Once a month, maybe."

"Sangat sedikit. Mungkin sebulan sekali."

Hugo nodded. But he did not trust the words "very little". He loved Pip, and he wanted him to grow. So he gave him water every morning.

Hugo mengangguk. Tetapi ia tidak memercayai kata "sangat sedikit". Ia menyayangi Pip, dan ia ingin kaktus itu tumbuh. Maka ia menyiramnya setiap pagi.

For two weeks, nothing happened. Pip sat on the windowsill and did not change. Hugo watered him and talked to him. He turned the pot to the sun.

Selama dua minggu, tidak terjadi apa-apa. Pip duduk di ambang jendela dan tidak berubah. Hugo menyiramnya dan mengajaknya bicara. Ia memutar pot itu ke arah matahari.

Then, in the third week, Hugo touched the base of the cactus. It felt soft. It was not hard like a stone, as it was before. It felt like a wet sponge.

Lalu, pada minggu ketiga, Hugo menyentuh pangkal kaktus itu. Rasanya lunak. Tidak keras seperti batu, seperti sebelumnya. Rasanya seperti spons basah.

He felt cold. He ran to the hall with the pot in his hands. He put it on the librarian's table.

Ia merasa dingin. Ia berlari ke balai sambil membawa pot itu. Ia menaruhnya di meja pustakawan.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"Apa yang kamu lakukan?" tanya perempuan itu.

"I gave him water."

"Saya menyiramnya."

"How often?"

"Seberapa sering?"

"Every day."

"Setiap hari."

The librarian closed her eyes for a second. "Oh, Hugo."

Pustakawan itu memejamkan mata sesaat. "Ya ampun, Hugo."

"Is he dead?"

"Apakah dia mati?"

"Nearly." She took a small knife from her desk. "The bottom is rotten. But the top may be fine. Let me see."

"Hampir." Ia mengambil sebilah pisau kecil dari mejanya. "Bagian bawahnya busuk. Tapi bagian atasnya mungkin masih baik. Coba kulihat."

She cut away the soft parts, one thin slice at a time. Under the green skin, the cactus was brown and wet. She cut and cut. At last, there was only a green piece left. It was the size of a bean.

Ia memotong bagian-bagian yang lunak itu, satu irisan tipis demi satu. Di bawah kulit hijaunya, kaktus itu cokelat dan basah. Ia memotong dan terus memotong. Akhirnya, hanya tersisa sepotong hijau. Ukurannya sebesar sebutir kacang.

"That is all that is good," she said. "Put it on a dry plate for a week. Do not touch it. Do not water it. Then plant it in dry sand."

"Hanya itu yang masih baik," katanya. "Taruh di piring kering selama seminggu. Jangan disentuh. Jangan disiram. Lalu tanam di pasir kering."

Hugo looked at the small green bean. It was not Pip any more. It was a tiny piece of Pip.

Hugo memandang kacang hijau kecil itu. Itu bukan Pip lagi. Itu sepotong kecil dari Pip.

"I broke my promise," he said.

"Aku mengingkari janjiku," katanya.

"Not yet." The librarian gave him a plate. "The summer is not over."

"Belum." Pustakawan itu memberinya sebuah piring. "Musim panas belum berakhir."

For the rest of August, Hugo did exactly what she said. He did not water anything. He put the green bean on a plate. Later, he put it in a pot of dry sand. He checked it every morning. Each morning, he felt a little worse.

Selama sisa bulan Agustus, Hugo melakukan persis seperti yang dikatakan perempuan itu. Ia tidak menyiram apa pun. Ia menaruh kacang hijau itu di atas piring. Kemudian, ia menaruhnya di pot berisi pasir kering. Ia memeriksanya setiap pagi. Setiap pagi, perasaannya sedikit lebih buruk.

There were no seeds. There were no flowers. There was only the bean in the sand. It did not move.

Tidak ada benih. Tidak ada bunga. Hanya ada kacang itu di dalam pasir. Ia tidak bergerak.

On the last Saturday of the summer, Hugo walked to the hall. He carried the pot under his arm. His feet felt heavy. He opened drawer fourteen. It was empty, with one bent paper label inside.

Pada Sabtu terakhir musim panas, Hugo berjalan ke balai. Ia membawa pot itu di bawah lengannya. Kakinya terasa berat. Ia membuka laci empat belas. Laci itu kosong, dengan sehelai label kertas yang tertekuk di dalamnya.

He took out the label. He found a pencil. Then he stopped. What could he write? "Seeds from Pip" was not true. He had no seeds.

Ia mengambil label itu. Ia mencari pensil. Lalu ia berhenti. Apa yang bisa ia tulis? "Benih dari Pip" tidak benar. Ia tidak punya benih.

He looked at the pot. Something was different. At the bottom of the bean, a pale line came out. It was a root, thin as a thread.

Ia memandang pot itu. Ada sesuatu yang berbeda. Di dasar potongan kaktus itu, sebuah garis pucat keluar. Itu akar, setipis benang.

Hugo stared at it for a long moment. The cactus was not dead. It grew, very slowly, in a new place.

Hugo menatapnya lama sekali. Kaktus itu tidak mati. Ia tumbuh, sangat perlahan, di tempat yang baru.

"That is not a seed," he said quietly.

"Itu bukan benih," katanya pelan.

"No," said the librarian from behind him. She smiled. "But the sign does not say only seeds. Look at it again."

"Bukan," kata pustakawan dari belakangnya. Ia tersenyum. "Tapi papan itu tidak hanya menyebut benih. Lihat lagi."

Hugo looked at the sign and read every word twice.

Hugo memandang papan itu dan membaca setiap katanya dua kali.

"It says seeds," he said.

"Tertulis benih," katanya.

"It does. But the rule is older than the sign. It is just this: take something, grow it and bring something back."

"Memang. Tapi aturan itu lebih tua daripada papannya. Isinya hanya ini: ambil sesuatu, tumbuhkan, dan kembalikan sesuatu."

Hugo thought about that. Then he laughed, a short surprised laugh. He wrote on the label in careful letters: "From Xavier's cactus, Pip. Grow me. Bring a piece back. For Xavier."

Hugo memikirkannya. Lalu ia tertawa, tawa pendek yang terkejut. Ia menulis di label itu dengan huruf-huruf yang hati-hati: "Dari kaktus Xavier, Pip. Tumbuhkan aku. Kembalikan sepotong. Untuk Xavier."

He put the label in drawer fourteen and pushed the drawer shut. He put the little pot on the shelf beside it. It sat in the sun.

Ia memasukkan label itu ke laci empat belas dan mendorong laci itu hingga tertutup. Ia menaruh pot kecil itu di rak di sebelahnya. Pot itu berada di bawah sinar matahari.

Then he wrote one word on the drawer card: "Xavier."

Lalu ia menulis satu kata pada kartu laci: "Xavier."