Always Last on Sports Day

The last Sports Day race is the eight hundred meters. Zane stands on the line with eleven other runners. The sun is bright. The grass smells of summer.

Lomba terakhir di Hari Olahraga adalah lari delapan ratus meter. Zane berdiri di garis start bersama sebelas pelari lain. Matahari bersinar terang. Rumput berbau musim panas.

He is not fast. He knows this. In every race since he was nine, he comes last. His mother says it does not matter. His friends say it does not matter. He does not say anything.

Dia tidak cepat. Dia tahu itu. Di setiap lomba sejak umur sembilan tahun, dia selalu juru kunci. Ibunya bilang itu tidak penting. Teman-temannya bilang itu tidak penting. Dia sendiri tidak berkata apa-apa.

A teacher lifts her hand. "Ready," she says. Then a loud pop. The race begins.

Seorang guru mengangkat tangan. "Siap," katanya. Lalu terdengar bunyi letusan keras. Lomba dimulai.

The other runners go away like leaves in the wind. In ten seconds, Zane is alone at the back. He hears feet on the track. The sound grows small.

Para pelari lain menjauh seperti daun tertiup angin. Dalam sepuluh detik, Zane sudah sendirian di belakang. Dia mendengar langkah kaki di lintasan. Suaranya makin mengecil.

He keeps running. He breathes in. He breathes out. His shoes make a soft, steady beat on the track.

Dia terus berlari. Dia menarik napas. Dia mengembuskan napas. Sepatunya membuat irama pelan dan stabil di lintasan.

On the first turn, he sees the crowd. Parents sit on the grass. Children shout names. A man holds up a sign. Nobody shouts "Zane." That is fine. He watches the crowd anyway. He feels like a man at a train window.

Di tikungan pertama, dia melihat kerumunan penonton. Para orang tua duduk di rumput. Anak-anak meneriakkan nama. Seorang pria mengangkat papan tulisan. Tidak ada yang meneriakkan "Zane." Tidak apa-apa. Dia tetap memperhatikan kerumunan itu. Dia merasa seperti orang yang memandang dari jendela kereta.

At the second turn, the leaders cross the line. The crowd gets loud. People jump up. A girl in a red shirt lifts her arms. Zane hears the shouting, far away, like the sea.

Di tikungan kedua, para pelari terdepan melewati garis finis. Kerumunan menjadi riuh. Orang-orang melompat berdiri. Seorang anak perempuan berkaus merah mengangkat kedua tangannya. Zane mendengar sorak-sorai itu dari kejauhan, seperti suara laut.

He is still running. His legs burn. His mouth is dry. He looks at the white line. He follows it.

Dia masih berlari. Kakinya terasa panas. Mulutnya kering. Dia menatap garis putih. Dia mengikutinya.

By the third turn, the crowd looks away. People start to stand and talk. Some walk to the food table. A boy opens a bottle of juice. A baby laughs. The last runners cross the line, one by one. Each crossing makes less noise.

Menjelang tikungan ketiga, kerumunan sudah berpaling. Orang-orang mulai berdiri dan mengobrol. Sebagian berjalan ke meja makanan. Seorang anak laki-laki membuka sebotol jus. Seorang bayi tertawa. Para pelari terakhir melewati garis finis satu per satu. Setiap kali, suaranya makin sepi.

Zane thinks: this is the quietest part of the race. He likes it more than he thought.

Zane berpikir: inilah bagian lomba yang paling sunyi. Dia menyukainya lebih dari yang dia kira.

He hears his own breath. He hears a bird in the tree beside the track. He smells the grass again, and the warm dust. His legs do not hurt now. They only move.

Dia mendengar napasnya sendiri. Dia mendengar seekor burung di pohon di samping lintasan. Dia mencium bau rumput lagi, dan debu yang hangat. Kakinya tidak sakit lagi sekarang. Kakinya hanya bergerak.

He thinks about his grandfather. His grandfather says a long road teaches more. Zane never understood it before. Now it feels a little true.

Dia teringat kakeknya. Kakeknya bilang jalan yang panjang mengajarkan lebih banyak hal. Dulu Zane tidak pernah mengerti. Sekarang ucapan itu terasa agak benar.

On the last straight line, he looks up. The finish line is far away. A few people stand near it. They talk to each other. Most of the field is empty.

Di lintasan lurus terakhir, dia menengadah. Garis finis masih jauh. Beberapa orang berdiri di dekatnya. Mereka mengobrol satu sama lain. Sebagian besar lapangan sudah kosong.

Then he sees someone. A girl stands at the line, very still. It is Chiara, from his class. She has a stopwatch around her neck. Everybody else has gone to the food table. She waits.

Lalu dia melihat seseorang. Seorang anak perempuan berdiri diam di garis finis. Dia Chiara, teman sekelasnya. Sebuah stopwatch menggantung di lehernya. Semua orang lain sudah pergi ke meja makanan. Dia menunggu.

She sees him. She picks up the end of the white ribbon. The other helper let it fall long ago. Chiara holds it high with both hands, like a gate.

Chiara melihat Zane. Dia mengambil ujung pita putih. Petugas lain sudah lama membiarkannya jatuh. Chiara mengangkatnya tinggi dengan kedua tangan, seperti sebuah gerbang.

"Come on, Zane," she calls. Her voice is not loud. It is clear.

"Ayo, Zane," serunya. Suaranya tidak keras. Suaranya jernih.

Zane's legs find a little more strength. He runs the last twenty meters with his head up. The ribbon is a white line against the blue sky.

Kaki Zane menemukan sedikit tenaga lagi. Dia berlari dua puluh meter terakhir dengan kepala tegak. Pita itu terlihat seperti garis putih di langit biru.

He pushes through it with his chest. The ribbon stretches, then falls to the grass.

Dia menerobosnya dengan dadanya. Pita itu meregang, lalu jatuh ke rumput.

Chiara presses a button on her stopwatch. She looks at the numbers. Then she looks at him and smiles.

Chiara menekan tombol stopwatch-nya. Dia melihat angkanya. Lalu dia menatap Zane dan tersenyum.

"Your best time," she says.

"Waktu terbaikmu," katanya.