A Song Without an Ending

Bjorn was the gardener at Hollin Lane Cemetery. He cut the grass and swept the paths. He watered the flowers by the gate.

Bjorn adalah tukang kebun di Pemakaman Hollin Lane. Ia memotong rumput dan menyapu jalan setapak. Ia menyiram bunga-bunga di dekat gerbang.

Every day at noon, he ate his lunch in the garden shed.

Setiap hari saat tengah hari, ia makan siang di gudang kebun.

The shed was small and warm. It had a bench, a window, and a shelf of tools. It smelled of grass and engine oil.

Gudang itu kecil dan hangat. Isinya sebuah bangku, sebuah jendela, dan rak perkakas. Baunya seperti rumput dan oli mesin.

On the window ledge sat a trumpet.

Di ambang jendela ada sebuah terompet.

Bjorn bought it three weeks earlier at a market. It was cheap and scratched. He wanted to learn one song. It was a slow tune from his school days.

Bjorn membelinya tiga minggu lalu di pasar. Harganya murah dan penuh goresan. Ia ingin belajar satu lagu. Sebuah melodi pelan dari masa sekolahnya.

But the trumpet had a problem. The second valve stuck. When Bjorn pressed it, it stayed down. The note came out flat and thin. It sounded like a goose with a cold.

Tetapi terompet itu bermasalah. Katup keduanya macet. Saat Bjorn menekannya, katup itu tetap di bawah. Nadanya keluar sumbang dan tipis. Bunyinya seperti angsa yang sedang pilek.

He tried to fix it. He tapped the valve with a spoon. He rubbed it with soap. He even blew into it for a full minute. Nothing worked.

Ia mencoba memperbaikinya. Ia mengetuk katup itu dengan sendok. Ia menggosoknya dengan sabun. Ia bahkan meniupnya selama satu menit penuh. Tidak ada yang berhasil.

So every noon, Bjorn played the tune as far as he could. Near the end, the valve stuck. The note cracked. He stopped, shook his head, and went back to his rice.

Maka setiap tengah hari, Bjorn memainkan lagu itu sejauh yang ia bisa. Menjelang akhir, katupnya macet. Nadanya pecah. Ia berhenti, menggeleng, lalu kembali ke nasinya.

He thought nobody heard him. The cemetery was big, and the shed stood far from the office.

Ia mengira tidak ada yang mendengarnya. Pemakaman itu luas, dan gudangnya jauh dari kantor.

That spring, a new clerk named Jolene started work in the office. Her desk stood by the front gate. She was quiet, and she wore a green scarf. She said good morning to Bjorn and nothing more.

Musim semi itu, seorang petugas baru bernama Jolene mulai bekerja di kantor. Mejanya berada di dekat gerbang depan. Ia pendiam, dan ia mengenakan syal hijau. Ia mengucapkan selamat pagi kepada Bjorn dan tidak lebih dari itu.

Bjorn liked the quiet. In the morning, he cut the grass along the old stone wall. A squirrel followed him from tree to tree.

Bjorn menyukai ketenangan itu. Pada pagi hari, ia memotong rumput di sepanjang tembok batu tua. Seekor tupai mengikutinya dari pohon ke pohon.

One Monday, Jolene walked down the long path toward the shed. Bjorn saw her through the window. He put the trumpet down fast.

Pada suatu Senin, Jolene berjalan menyusuri jalan setapak yang panjang menuju gudang. Bjorn melihatnya dari jendela. Ia buru-buru meletakkan terompet.

She stopped at the open door. "Bjorn, can I talk to you about the music?"

Jolene berhenti di pintu yang terbuka. "Bjorn, boleh aku bicara denganmu soal musik itu?"

"The music?" he said.

"Musik?" katanya.

"At noon, every day." Jolene held her hands tight together. "I can't listen to it anymore."

"Setiap hari, saat tengah hari." Jolene menggenggam kedua tangannya erat-erat. "Aku sudah tidak tahan mendengarnya lagi."

Bjorn felt cold. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know it carried so far."

Bjorn merasa dingin. "Maaf," katanya. "Aku tidak tahu suaranya terdengar sejauh itu."

"It carries all the way to my desk."

"Sampai ke mejaku."

"I understand. I will put it away."

"Aku mengerti. Akan kusimpan."

Jolene opened her mouth. Then her phone rang. She looked at it and sighed. "I must take this. We can talk later." She hurried back up the path.

Jolene membuka mulut. Lalu ponselnya berdering. Ia menatapnya dan menghela napas. "Aku harus mengangkat ini. Kita bicara nanti." Ia bergegas kembali ke jalan setapak.

Bjorn sat alone with his rice. He was not hungry. He put the trumpet in its old case. He pushed the case under the bench.

Bjorn duduk sendirian dengan nasinya. Ia tidak lapar. Ia memasukkan terompet itu ke kotak lamanya. Ia mendorong kotak itu ke bawah bangku.

On Tuesday, the shed was silent at noon. On Wednesday, it was silent again. Bjorn ate fast and went back to the roses. The squirrel sat on the wall and looked at him. Even the squirrel seemed to ask a question.

Pada hari Selasa, gudang itu senyap saat tengah hari. Pada hari Rabu, senyap lagi. Bjorn makan cepat-cepat dan kembali ke mawar-mawarnya. Si tupai duduk di atas tembok dan menatapnya. Bahkan tupai itu seperti sedang bertanya.

At the front desk, Jolene noticed the quiet too. Noon felt wrong without the tune. She typed a letter and made three mistakes. She started again and made two more.

Di meja depan, Jolene juga merasakan kesunyian itu. Tengah hari terasa janggal tanpa lagu itu. Ia mengetik sebuah surat dan membuat tiga kesalahan. Ia mulai lagi dan membuat dua kesalahan lagi.

By Thursday, she could not work at all. She took her lunch bag and walked down the path.

Pada hari Kamis, ia sama sekali tak bisa bekerja. Ia mengambil tas makan siangnya dan berjalan menyusuri jalan setapak.

The shed door stood open. Bjorn sat on the bench and chewed slowly. The window ledge was empty.

Pintu gudang terbuka. Bjorn duduk di bangku dan mengunyah pelan-pelan. Ambang jendela itu kosong.

"Where is it?" Jolene asked.

"Di mana terompetnya?" tanya Jolene.

"Where is what?"

"Apanya yang di mana?"

"The trumpet. Why did you stop?"

"Terompet itu. Kenapa kamu berhenti?"

Bjorn stared at her. "You asked me to stop."

Bjorn menatapnya. "Kamu yang menyuruhku berhenti."

"I did not!" Jolene said. "I said I couldn't listen to it anymore. I meant I couldn't listen to half of it."

"Aku tidak menyuruh!" kata Jolene. "Aku bilang aku tidak tahan mendengarnya lagi. Maksudku aku tidak tahan mendengar setengahnya saja."

"Half of it?"

"Setengahnya?"

"The song stops before the end. Every day, in the same place. I want to know what comes next. It makes me crazy."

"Lagunya berhenti sebelum selesai. Setiap hari, di tempat yang sama. Aku ingin tahu kelanjutannya. Aku jadi gila memikirkannya."

Bjorn laughed. He laughed so hard that he dropped his spoon. "The valve sticks," he said. "I can't get to the end."

Bjorn tertawa. Ia tertawa sampai sendoknya jatuh. "Katupnya macet," katanya. "Aku tidak bisa sampai ke akhir."

"Then let me see it."

"Kalau begitu biar kulihat."

He pulled the case out from under the bench. He opened it and gave her the trumpet. Jolene turned it over in her hands. She pressed the second valve. It stayed down with a small click.

Ia menarik kotak itu dari bawah bangku. Ia membukanya dan memberikan terompet itu padanya. Jolene membolak-baliknya di tangan. Ia menekan katup kedua. Katup itu tetap di bawah dengan bunyi klik kecil.

"It's dry," she said. "And it's dirty. My brother played the trumpet for ten years. I know this sound."

"Katupnya kering," katanya. "Dan kotor. Kakakku bermain terompet selama sepuluh tahun. Aku kenal bunyi ini."

She dug into her coat pocket and took out a small bottle. "This is valve oil. I brought it on Monday. I wanted to give it to you. Then my phone rang."

Ia merogoh saku mantelnya dan mengeluarkan sebuah botol kecil. "Ini minyak katup. Aku membawanya hari Senin. Aku ingin memberikannya padamu. Lalu ponselku berdering."

Bjorn looked at the bottle. Then he looked at her. "You carried it for four days?"

Bjorn menatap botol itu. Lalu ia menatapnya. "Kamu membawanya selama empat hari?"

"I forgot it was there. Then I saw your empty windowsill."

"Aku lupa benda itu ada di sana. Lalu aku melihat ambang jendelamu kosong."

Jolene sat on the bench beside him. She unscrewed the top of the valve and pulled it out. She wiped it with a cloth from the shelf. She put three drops of oil on it and slid it back. Then she pressed it with one finger. The valve went down and came up again, smooth and quick.

Jolene duduk di bangku di sebelahnya. Ia memutar lepas tutup katup dan menariknya keluar. Ia mengelapnya dengan kain dari rak. Ia meneteskan tiga tetes minyak dan memasukkannya kembali. Lalu ia menekannya dengan satu jari. Katup itu turun dan naik lagi, mulus dan cepat.

"Try now," she said.

"Coba sekarang," katanya.

Bjorn took the trumpet. His hands were not steady. He lifted it to his lips and began.

Bjorn mengambil terompet itu. Tangannya tidak mantap. Ia mengangkatnya ke bibir dan mulai bermain.

The first notes were soft. The slow tune rose and fell inside the little shed. Bjorn reached the place where the song always broke. His finger pressed the valve. The valve came back up. The note held. He kept going, all the way to the end.

Nada-nada pertamanya lembut. Lagu pelan itu naik dan turun di dalam gudang kecil itu. Bjorn sampai di bagian tempat lagu itu selalu terputus. Jarinya menekan katup. Katup itu naik kembali. Nadanya bertahan. Ia terus bermain, sampai ke akhir.

When the last note faded, Jolene did not speak. She looked at the floor and smiled.

Ketika nada terakhir memudar, Jolene tidak berkata apa-apa. Ia menatap lantai dan tersenyum.

"Again," she said at last.

"Sekali lagi," katanya akhirnya.

Bjorn played it again. This time he played louder. The sound went out through the open door and across the grass. It passed the old wall and the long paths. It passed the clean white stones.

Bjorn memainkannya lagi. Kali ini ia bermain lebih keras. Suaranya keluar lewat pintu yang terbuka dan melintasi rumput. Melewati tembok tua dan jalan-jalan setapak yang panjang. Melewati batu-batu putih yang bersih.

Outside, a bird landed on the gate. It sat there, quite still, until the last note was gone.

Di luar, seekor burung hinggap di gerbang. Ia duduk di sana, diam sekali, sampai nada terakhir menghilang.