The Blue Thumbprints in the Garden Shed

On Monday morning, Yasmin finds a blue thumbprint on the tap in the garden shed.

Pada Senin pagi, Yasmin menemukan sidik jempol biru di keran di gudang taman.

It is a clear print, as neat as a stamp. She looks at it for a while with a cup of coffee in her hand. Then she washes it away and starts her day.

Sidiknya jelas, serapi cap stempel. Ia memandanginya sebentar sambil memegang secangkir kopi. Lalu ia membasuhnya dan memulai harinya.

Yasmin is the head gardener at Larkfield Cemetery. Her shed stands behind the chapel, between the compost heap and the old fig tree. It smells of soil and cut grass. Inside are rakes, shears, seed trays, and a tap over a deep stone sink. The shed is hers. She never locks it, because nobody else ever comes in.

Yasmin adalah kepala tukang kebun di Pemakaman Larkfield. Gudangnya berdiri di belakang kapel, di antara tumpukan kompos dan pohon ara tua. Gudang itu berbau tanah dan rumput yang baru dipotong. Di dalamnya ada garu, gunting tanaman, nampan semai, dan sebuah keran di atas bak batu yang dalam. Gudang itu miliknya. Ia tidak pernah menguncinya, karena tidak ada orang lain yang pernah masuk.

That is why the thumbprint worries her a little.

Itulah sebabnya sidik jempol itu membuatnya sedikit cemas.

On Tuesday, she finds a second print on the same tap. On Wednesday, there is a third. By Thursday, it is a real puzzle, and she decides to treat it like one.

Pada hari Selasa, ia menemukan sidik kedua di keran yang sama. Pada hari Rabu, ada yang ketiga. Pada hari Kamis, ini sudah menjadi teka-teki sungguhan, dan ia memutuskan untuk memperlakukannya demikian.

"Someone is visiting my shed at night," she tells the groundsman, who is cutting a hedge nearby.

"Ada yang mengunjungi gudangku malam-malam," katanya kepada petugas lahan yang sedang memangkas pagar tanaman di dekat situ.

"A ghost with ink on his fingers?" he says. "I like that. It is a polite ghost."

"Hantu dengan tinta di jarinya?" katanya. "Aku suka itu. Hantu yang sopan."

"It is not funny."

"Ini tidak lucu."

"It is a little funny," he says, and he goes on cutting.

"Sedikit lucu," katanya, dan ia terus memangkas.

Yasmin takes a notebook from her pocket. She does not feel like a detective, but she likes lists. At the top of the page, she writes, "What do I know?"

Yasmin mengambil buku catatan dari sakunya. Ia tidak merasa seperti detektif, tetapi ia suka membuat daftar. Di bagian atas halaman, ia menulis, "Apa yang kuketahui?"

The first clue is the ink itself. It is deep blue and a little shiny, the kind that comes from an old fountain pen. The prints appear only on the tap, never on the door or the shelves. So the visitor comes in, turns on the water, and leaves.

Petunjuk pertama adalah tintanya sendiri. Tinta itu biru tua dan agak mengilap, jenis yang berasal dari pena tinta tua. Sidik-sidik itu hanya muncul di keran, tidak pernah di pintu atau rak. Jadi si pengunjung masuk, menyalakan air, lalu pergi.

On Friday, she finds the second clue, and it is stranger than the first.

Pada hari Jumat, ia menemukan petunjuk kedua, dan petunjuk itu lebih aneh daripada yang pertama.

On her work table, beside the seed trays, lie twenty small wooden plant labels. She had left them there on Thursday evening with their old names almost gone. Now every label is rewritten. The letters are tall and careful, and the ink is blue. Lavender. Rosemary. Sweet pea. Foxglove. Nothing is spelled wrong. Even the Latin names are correct.

Di meja kerjanya, di samping nampan-nampan semai, tergeletak dua puluh label tanaman kecil dari kayu. Ia meninggalkannya di sana pada Kamis sore dengan nama-nama lama yang hampir hilang. Sekarang setiap label telah ditulis ulang. Hurufnya tinggi dan rapi, dan tintanya biru. Lavender. Rosemary. Sweet pea. Foxglove. Tidak ada satu pun yang salah eja. Bahkan nama-nama Latinnya pun benar.

She sits down on her stool and reads them twice.

Ia duduk di bangkunya dan membacanya dua kali.

"A thief who corrects my labels," she says aloud. "That is new."

"Pencuri yang memperbaiki label-labelku," katanya keras-keras. "Itu baru."

She puts the labels in a neat row, and for the first time all week, she smiles. Whoever this is, they are kind. And they have beautiful handwriting.

Ia menyusun label-label itu dalam satu baris rapi, dan untuk pertama kalinya sepanjang minggu itu, ia tersenyum. Siapa pun orang ini, ia baik hati. Dan tulisan tangannya indah.

On Saturday, the third clue arrives, and it is the smallest one.

Pada hari Sabtu, petunjuk ketiga datang, dan itu yang paling kecil.

The towel on the hook behind the door has two long blue marks on it. Beside the sink, the soap is wet. Someone has washed their hands for a long time. A fresh bar lies on the shelf, still wrapped. It is not her brand.

Handuk di gantungan di belakang pintu memiliki dua noda biru panjang. Di samping bak, sabunnya basah. Seseorang telah mencuci tangan lama sekali. Sebatang sabun baru tergeletak di rak, masih terbungkus. Itu bukan mereknya.

Yasmin writes it all in her notebook. One: ink on the tap. Two: labels rewritten. Three: wet soap, blue towel, a new bar.

Yasmin menuliskan semuanya di buku catatannya. Satu: tinta di keran. Dua: label ditulis ulang. Tiga: sabun basah, handuk biru, sabun baru.

She taps her pencil against her chin. A person who writes with a pen like that has a job with paper. A person who has ink on their hands every day must wash them often. A person who leaves a gift of soap is polite, and probably shy. And a shy person would never knock on the door of a gardener who talks to plants.

Ia mengetukkan pensilnya ke dagu. Orang yang menulis dengan pena seperti itu bekerja dengan kertas. Orang yang tangannya berlumur tinta setiap hari pasti sering mencucinya. Orang yang meninggalkan hadiah berupa sabun itu sopan, dan mungkin pemalu. Dan orang pemalu tidak akan pernah mengetuk pintu seorang tukang kebun yang berbicara dengan tanaman.

She looks out of the window toward the white office building at the far side of the lawn. The records office. It has a very small kitchen and a very old sink.

Ia memandang keluar jendela ke gedung kantor putih di seberang hamparan rumput. Kantor arsip. Dapurnya sangat kecil dan bak cucinya sangat tua.

"Aha," she says. "Maybe."

"Aha," katanya. "Mungkin."

On Sunday, the cemetery is closed to visitors. On Monday, Yasmin forgets her gloves at home. She has to come back to the shed an hour early. She walks across the lawn with her keys in one hand. The sun is just rising behind the chapel.

Pada hari Minggu, pemakaman ditutup untuk pengunjung. Pada hari Senin, Yasmin lupa sarung tangannya di rumah. Ia harus kembali ke gudang satu jam lebih awal. Ia berjalan melintasi rumput dengan kunci di satu tangan. Matahari baru saja terbit di balik kapel.

She opens the door and stops.

Ia membuka pintu dan terpaku.

A man stands in front of her sink with both hands under the tap. He is tall, with round glasses and a brown cardigan. A pen lies on the edge of the stone basin. His fingers are blue to the wrists. A blue line runs up one cheek where he touched his face.

Seorang pria berdiri di depan baknya dengan kedua tangan di bawah keran. Ia tinggi, berkacamata bulat dan mengenakan kardigan cokelat. Sebuah pena tergeletak di tepi bak batu. Jari-jarinya biru sampai ke pergelangan. Sebuah garis biru memanjang di salah satu pipinya, tempat ia menyentuh wajahnya.

He turns around slowly, and his eyes grow very wide.

Ia berbalik perlahan, dan matanya terbelalak lebar.

"Good morning," says Yasmin.

"Selamat pagi," kata Yasmin.

"Hello," the man says. He gives a small, miserable cough. "I can explain."

"Halo," kata pria itu. Ia terbatuk kecil dengan muram. "Saya bisa menjelaskan."

"I hope so."

"Saya harap begitu."

"My name is Orson. I work in the records office, on the other side of the lawn." He lifts his blue hands, as if to show proof. "My pen leaks. It has leaked for two years. I carry it in my shirt pocket, and by eight o'clock my whole hand is blue."

"Nama saya Orson. Saya bekerja di kantor arsip, di seberang hamparan rumput." Ia mengangkat tangan birunya, seolah menunjukkan bukti. "Pena saya bocor. Sudah bocor selama dua tahun. Saya menyimpannya di saku kemeja, dan pukul delapan seluruh tangan saya sudah biru."

"I see."

"Begitu."

"The sink in our office broke last week. The pipe makes a noise like an angry cat, and the manager says we must not use it. So I looked for another tap." He looks at the floor. "Yours was the nearest one. The door is never locked, and I knew there was a sink inside. I only wanted to wash my hands."

"Bak di kantor kami rusak minggu lalu. Pipanya mengeluarkan bunyi seperti kucing marah, dan manajer bilang kami tidak boleh memakainya. Jadi saya mencari keran lain." Ia memandang lantai. "Keran Anda yang terdekat. Pintunya tidak pernah dikunci, dan saya tahu ada bak di dalamnya. Saya hanya ingin mencuci tangan."

"Every morning," says Yasmin.

"Setiap pagi," kata Yasmin.

"Every morning," he agrees. "And again at lunch."

"Setiap pagi," ia mengakui. "Dan lagi saat makan siang."

"And you never knocked."

"Dan Anda tidak pernah mengetuk."

"You always seemed busy. You were talking to a rose bush, and I did not want to interrupt." He pauses. "I thought you might be annoyed."

"Anda selalu tampak sibuk. Anda sedang berbicara dengan semak mawar, dan saya tidak ingin mengganggu." Ia berhenti sejenak. "Saya pikir Anda mungkin akan marah."

Yasmin looks at the blue hands, the blue cheek and the sad face above them. Then she laughs. It is a real laugh, loud and warm. She has to hold the door to stay up.

Yasmin memandang tangan biru itu, pipi biru itu, dan wajah sedih di atasnya. Lalu ia tertawa. Tawa yang tulus, keras dan hangat. Ia harus berpegangan pada pintu agar tidak jatuh.

"I thought I had a ghost," she says. "I made notes."

"Kukira aku punya hantu," katanya. "Aku sampai membuat catatan."

"I am so sorry."

"Saya sungguh minta maaf."

"Don't be. It is the best week I have had in years." She wipes her eyes and points at the table. "Did you write all those labels?"

"Jangan. Ini minggu terbaik yang kualami dalam beberapa tahun." Ia menyeka matanya dan menunjuk meja. "Apakah Anda yang menulis semua label itu?"

Orson looks at his boots. "Some of them were fading. I have a lot of time at lunch, and my writing is the only thing I do well. I did not want to leave your shed worse than I found it."

Orson memandang sepatu botnya. "Beberapa sudah memudar. Saya punya banyak waktu saat makan siang, dan menulis adalah satu-satunya hal yang bisa saya kerjakan dengan baik. Saya tidak ingin meninggalkan gudang Anda dalam keadaan lebih buruk daripada saat saya menemukannya."

"And the soap?"

"Dan sabunnya?"

"To say thank you. Your soap was almost finished." He looks hopeful. "Is it a good brand?"

"Untuk mengucapkan terima kasih. Sabun Anda hampir habis." Ia tampak berharap. "Apakah merek itu bagus?"

"It is perfect." She takes the pen from the basin and holds it up to the light. The blue ink runs down her finger, and she wipes it on her trousers. "You know, there are better pens in the world."

"Sempurna." Ia mengambil pena dari bak dan mengangkatnya ke arah cahaya. Tinta biru mengalir di jarinya, dan ia menyekanya di celananya. "Tahu tidak, ada pena yang lebih bagus di dunia ini."

"I love this one," Orson says, with great dignity. "My father gave it to me."

"Saya sangat menyukai yang ini," kata Orson dengan penuh martabat. "Ayah saya yang memberikannya."

"Then we must fix it, not throw it away." She opens a drawer and takes out a small roll of tape and a little jar of wax. "Come here. Gardeners can mend almost anything."

"Kalau begitu kita harus memperbaikinya, bukan membuangnya." Ia membuka laci dan mengambil segulung kecil selotip dan sebotol kecil lilin. "Kemari. Tukang kebun bisa memperbaiki hampir apa saja."

They work together for twenty minutes, at the table, while the light grows stronger over the lawn. When the pen finally holds, Orson writes his name on the back of her hand to test it. The letters are dark and clean.

Mereka bekerja bersama selama dua puluh menit, di meja, sementara cahaya makin terang di atas hamparan rumput. Ketika pena itu akhirnya bisa dipakai, Orson menuliskan namanya di punggung tangan Yasmin untuk mengujinya. Hurufnya gelap dan bersih.

"No more thumbprints on the tap," he says.

"Tidak ada lagi sidik jempol di keran," katanya.

"Leave one," says Yasmin. "Just so I remember."

"Sisakan satu," kata Yasmin. "Supaya aku ingat."

When he goes back across the grass, she turns on the water to wash her hands. On the metal tap, a single clear thumbprint shines in the early light. It is small, blue and a little crooked, like a flower that has just opened.

Ketika ia kembali melintasi rumput, Yasmin menyalakan air untuk mencuci tangan. Di keran logam itu, satu sidik jempol yang jelas berkilau dalam cahaya pagi. Sidik itu kecil, biru dan sedikit miring, seperti bunga yang baru saja mekar.