The Boy and the Squeaky Trolley

The trolley had one bad wheel, and everyone on the launch field knew it.

Troli itu punya satu roda yang rusak, dan semua orang di lapangan peluncuran tahu itu.

It sat at the front on the left side, and it squeaked at every turn. It was a thin, high noise, like a mouse singing in a cupboard. He pushed the trolley across the grass in the early light. The wheel announced him to the whole field before he arrived.

Roda itu ada di depan sebelah kiri, dan berdecit setiap kali berbelok. Bunyinya tipis dan tinggi, seperti tikus yang bernyanyi di dalam lemari. Ia mendorong troli itu melintasi rumput dalam cahaya pagi. Roda itu mengumumkan kedatangannya kepada seluruh lapangan sebelum ia tiba.

He was fifteen, and this was his first summer job. Every morning he reached the field at four o'clock, when the sky was still dark blue. His work was simple. He loaded the trolley with baskets, burner pipes and folded fabric. Then he wheeled it from the van to the launch line. Then he waited for the next load.

Usianya lima belas tahun, dan ini pekerjaan musim panas pertamanya. Setiap pagi ia tiba di lapangan pukul empat, ketika langit masih biru tua. Pekerjaannya sederhana. Ia memuat troli dengan keranjang, pipa pembakar, dan kain terlipat. Lalu ia mendorongnya dari van ke garis peluncuran. Lalu ia menunggu muatan berikutnya.

The balloon pilots arrived in twos and threes, drinking coffee from paper cups. They were friendly, but they never used his name. They said, "Hey, trolley boy," or, "Where is the trolley?" or just, "You." Ferran had told them his name on the first day. Two weeks later, he was still waiting for someone to use it.

Para pilot balon udara datang berdua-dua dan bertiga-tiga, minum kopi dari gelas kertas. Mereka ramah, tetapi tidak pernah menyebut namanya. Mereka berkata, "Hei, anak troli," atau, "Mana troli itu?" atau sekadar, "Kamu." Ferran sudah memberi tahu nama kepada mereka pada hari pertama. Dua minggu kemudian, ia masih menunggu seseorang menyebutnya.

It was a small thing, and it mattered more every day.

Itu hal kecil, dan makin hari makin berarti.

On a quiet Thursday, he stood at the edge of the field. He watched the first balloon fill with warm air. The fabric rose slowly from the grass, round and glowing. It looked like a lamp the size of a house. A young woman in a green jacket stood beside the basket, checking a line of small flags. This was Yelena. She was the youngest pilot on the field. She was also the only one who ever said thank you.

Pada suatu Kamis yang tenang, ia berdiri di tepi lapangan. Ia memperhatikan balon pertama terisi udara hangat. Kainnya naik perlahan dari rumput, bundar dan bercahaya. Balon itu tampak seperti lampu sebesar rumah. Seorang perempuan muda berjaket hijau berdiri di samping keranjang, memeriksa seuntai bendera kecil. Dia Yelena. Dia pilot termuda di lapangan itu. Dia juga satu-satunya yang pernah mengucapkan terima kasih.

"Good morning," she called. "Is that your trolley making all that noise?"

"Selamat pagi," serunya. "Apakah troli itu yang membuat semua keributan ini?"

"Yes," Ferran said. He felt his shoulders go stiff. "I'm sorry. I've tried to fix it. It won't stop."

"Ya," kata Ferran. Ia merasa bahunya menegang. "Maaf. Aku sudah berusaha memperbaikinya. Bunyinya tidak mau berhenti."

"Don't be sorry. I can hear you coming from the other side of the field." She smiled at him. "It's useful."

"Jangan minta maaf. Aku bisa mendengarmu datang dari seberang lapangan." Ia tersenyum kepada Ferran. "Itu berguna."

"I wish somebody would just say my name," Ferran said. He did not mean to say it aloud. The words simply fell out of his mouth.

"Andai saja ada yang mau menyebut namaku," kata Ferran. Ia tidak bermaksud mengatakannya keras-keras. Kata-kata itu begitu saja meluncur dari mulutnya.

Yelena tilted her head. "What is your name?"

Yelena memiringkan kepala. "Siapa namamu?"

"Ferran."

"Ferran."

"Ferran," she repeated, slowly, as if she were tasting it. "That's a good name. But I think I can do better than that."

"Ferran," ulangnya pelan-pelan, seolah mencicipinya. "Nama yang bagus. Tapi kurasa aku bisa membuat yang lebih baik."

"Better?"

"Lebih baik?"

"A name that people will remember." She grinned. "Leave it with me."

"Nama yang akan diingat orang." Ia menyeringai. "Serahkan padaku."

Ferran did not know what that meant, so he decided to forget it.

Ferran tidak tahu apa maksudnya, jadi ia memutuskan untuk melupakannya.

The next day, he arrived at the field and heard the news before he saw anyone. A voice was shouting across the grass.

Keesokan harinya, ia tiba di lapangan dan mendengar kabarnya sebelum melihat siapa pun. Sebuah suara berteriak di seberang rumput.

"Squeak! Hey, Squeak! Over here!"

"Cit! Hei, Cit! Di sini!"

It was the oldest pilot, a tall man with a moustache. He waved both arms. Another pilot came running with a coffee in each hand.

Itu pilot tertua, seorang pria jangkung berkumis. Ia melambaikan kedua lengannya. Pilot lain datang berlari dengan kopi di masing-masing tangan.

"Squeak, can you bring the big basket? Please?"

"Cit, bisa tolong bawa keranjang besarnya? Tolong?"

"Squeak, where is the spare burner?"

"Cit, di mana pembakar cadangannya?"

Ferran stood in the middle of the field and stared at them. Behind a balloon, Yelena was trying very hard not to laugh.

Ferran berdiri di tengah lapangan dan menatap mereka. Di balik sebuah balon, Yelena berusaha sekuat tenaga menahan tawa.

"You told them to call me that," he said.

"Kamu yang menyuruh mereka memanggilku begitu," katanya.

"I told them it was your name," she said. "Pilot's honour."

"Aku bilang itu namamu," katanya. "Sumpah pilot."

"It's not my name! It's the sound of a broken wheel."

"Itu bukan namaku! Itu bunyi roda rusak."

"It's a nickname. They are different things." Yelena put a hand on his shoulder. "Nobody forgets a nickname. Besides, it is much better than trolley boy."

"Itu julukan. Itu dua hal yang berbeda." Yelena meletakkan tangan di bahunya. "Tidak ada yang lupa pada julukan. Lagi pula, jauh lebih bagus daripada anak troli."

Ferran wanted to be angry. He looked at her face and then at the pilots waving at him. He could not find the anger anywhere. Something warm sat in his chest instead, and it felt a little bit like being at home.

Ferran ingin marah. Ia memandang wajah Yelena lalu para pilot yang melambai kepadanya. Ia tidak bisa menemukan amarah itu di mana pun. Sesuatu yang hangat justru bersemayam di dadanya, dan rasanya sedikit seperti berada di rumah.

"I wished for a name," he said finally. "I didn't wish for that one."

"Aku berharap punya nama," katanya akhirnya. "Aku tidak berharap yang itu."

"Wishes never come in the shape you expect," Yelena said. "That's how you know they are real."

"Harapan tidak pernah datang dalam bentuk yang kamu duga," kata Yelena. "Begitulah caranya kamu tahu harapan itu nyata."

For the next week, everybody on the field used the word. Ferran got used to it. He began to answer to it without thinking, the way a dog answers to its own name.

Selama seminggu berikutnya, semua orang di lapangan memakai kata itu. Ferran terbiasa. Ia mulai menjawab panggilan itu tanpa berpikir, seperti anjing menjawab namanya sendiri.

Then came Saturday.

Lalu tibalah hari Sabtu.

It was the biggest morning of the summer. Seven balloons lifted off together, and the sky filled with colour. Ferran stood at the launch line with a hot cup in his hands. He watched them climb, one after another, into the pink morning light. Yelena's balloon was the last. It was white and gold, and it rose without a sound.

Itu pagi terbesar musim panas itu. Tujuh balon lepas landas bersamaan, dan langit dipenuhi warna. Ferran berdiri di garis peluncuran dengan gelas panas di tangannya. Ia memperhatikan balon-balon itu naik, satu demi satu, ke dalam cahaya pagi yang merah jambu. Balon Yelena yang terakhir. Balon itu putih keemasan, dan naik tanpa suara.

Normally the pilots landed within a few miles, and the chase crew drove out to collect them. But that morning the air carried Yelena a very long way. She drifted past the river and over the low hills. At last she came down in a huge field of tall maize, far from any road.

Biasanya para pilot mendarat dalam jarak beberapa mil, dan kru pengejar berkendara untuk menjemput mereka. Tetapi pagi itu angin membawa Yelena sangat jauh. Ia melayang melewati sungai dan di atas perbukitan rendah. Akhirnya ia turun di ladang jagung yang luas dan tinggi, jauh dari jalan mana pun.

Ferran heard the news ten minutes later, when the chase driver called the field on the radio.

Ferran mendengar kabarnya sepuluh menit kemudian, ketika pengemudi pengejar menghubungi lapangan lewat radio.

"We can't find her," the driver said. His voice was tight. "The maize is taller than a man. We can see the balloon from the road, but there is no track to it. We have driven round the whole field twice, and she has no signal on her phone."

"Kami tidak bisa menemukannya," kata si pengemudi. Suaranya tegang. "Jagungnya lebih tinggi dari orang dewasa. Kami bisa melihat balonnya dari jalan, tetapi tidak ada jalur ke sana. Kami sudah mengitari seluruh ladang dua kali, dan ponselnya tidak ada sinyal."

The crew chief frowned. "Send the trolley," he said. "We need someone on foot with the equipment bags. Squeak, can you go with the second van?"

Kepala kru mengerutkan kening. "Kirim troli," katanya. "Kita butuh orang yang berjalan kaki membawa tas peralatan. Cit, bisa kamu pergi bersama van kedua?"

"I can," Ferran said.

"Bisa," kata Ferran.

He loaded the empty envelope bags and climbed into the van beside the driver. Twenty minutes later, they stood at the edge of the maize. The stalks made a green wall in front of them.

Ia memuat kantong-kantong selubung balon yang kosong dan naik ke van di samping pengemudi. Dua puluh menit kemudian, mereka berdiri di tepi ladang jagung. Batang-batang jagung membentuk tembok hijau di hadapan mereka.

"She's in there somewhere," the driver said. "But I can't drive through it, and I can't hear her."

"Dia ada di dalam sana, di suatu tempat," kata si pengemudi. "Tapi aku tidak bisa menyetir menembusnya, dan aku tidak bisa mendengarnya."

Ferran looked at the wall of maize. He looked at the trolley in the back of the van, with its one bad wheel. Then he had an idea. It came so fast that he did not dare to say it aloud.

Ferran memandang tembok jagung itu. Ia memandang troli di bagian belakang van, dengan satu roda rusaknya. Lalu sebuah gagasan muncul. Gagasan itu datang begitu cepat sampai ia tidak berani mengatakannya keras-keras.

He lifted the trolley down onto the track. He took hold of the handle. He began to push it slowly along the edge of the field, back and forth, back and forth.

Ia menurunkan troli itu ke jalur tanah. Ia memegang gagangnya. Ia mulai mendorongnya pelan-pelan di sepanjang tepi ladang, bolak-balik, bolak-balik.

Squeak, went the wheel, again and again.

Cit, kata roda itu, berulang kali.

The sound was thin and high, and it carried across the maize like the call of a bird.

Bunyinya tipis dan tinggi, dan merambat melintasi ladang jagung seperti panggilan burung.

"What are you doing?" the driver asked.

"Kamu sedang apa?" tanya si pengemudi.

"Wait," Ferran said. "She told me she could hear me from the other side of the field."

"Tunggu," kata Ferran. "Dia pernah bilang dia bisa mendengarku dari seberang lapangan."

They stood in silence. Ferran pushed the trolley another ten steps, and then another ten. His arms were beginning to ache.

Mereka berdiri dalam diam. Ferran mendorong troli sepuluh langkah lagi, lalu sepuluh langkah lagi. Lengannya mulai terasa pegal.

Then, far inside the maize, a voice rose.

Lalu, jauh di dalam ladang jagung, sebuah suara terdengar.

"Squeak!"

"Cit!"

Ferran stopped. His heart jumped.

Ferran berhenti. Jantungnya melonjak.

"Is that you? I can hear you! Keep going!"

"Itu kamu? Aku bisa mendengarmu! Teruskan!"

"She's to the left," the driver said. "Past that tall tree!"

"Dia ada di sebelah kiri," kata si pengemudi. "Lewat pohon tinggi itu!"

Ferran pushed harder. He turned the trolley, and the wheel sang out loudly, and the voice answered from a little closer. The driver found a narrow gap between the stalks and started cutting a path. Ferran followed with the trolley, step after step. The voice grew nearer until he could hear laughing in it.

Ferran mendorong lebih keras. Ia membelokkan troli, dan roda itu berdecit nyaring, dan suara itu menjawab dari jarak yang sedikit lebih dekat. Si pengemudi menemukan celah sempit di antara batang-batang jagung dan mulai menebas sebuah jalan. Ferran mengikutinya dengan troli, selangkah demi selangkah. Suara itu makin dekat sampai ia bisa mendengar tawa di dalamnya.

Then the stalks parted, and there she was. Yelena stood in a small clearing beside her fallen balloon. Her jacket was covered in leaves, and her hair was full of pollen. She looked tired and very glad to see him.

Lalu batang-batang jagung terkuak, dan di sanalah ia. Yelena berdiri di sebuah tanah lapang kecil di samping balonnya yang roboh. Jaketnya penuh daun, dan rambutnya penuh serbuk sari. Ia tampak lelah dan sangat senang melihat Ferran.

"I knew it," she said. "I told them. Nobody could lose a trolley with a wheel like that."

"Sudah kuduga," katanya. "Aku sudah bilang pada mereka. Tidak ada yang bisa kehilangan troli dengan roda seperti itu."

Ferran laughed. He could not help it. He stood in the middle of the maize. The balloon lay spread beside him like a great gold flower. He laughed until his eyes were wet.

Ferran tertawa. Ia tidak bisa menahannya. Ia berdiri di tengah ladang jagung. Balon itu terhampar di sampingnya seperti bunga emas yang besar. Ia tertawa sampai matanya basah.

"Thank you, Squeak," Yelena said.

"Terima kasih, Cit," kata Yelena.

"You're welcome," said Ferran.

"Sama-sama," kata Ferran.

He took the trolley's handle again. The wheel turned once, and spoke for him.

Ia memegang gagang troli itu lagi. Roda itu berputar sekali, dan berbicara untuknya.

Squeak.

Cit.