The Drawer Marked Empty

Edin had worked in the stamp and coin shop for nine months before she finally admitted that she disliked one drawer. It was the bottom one of the long oak counter, the only one with a lock. Nobody had ever found the key.

Edin sudah sembilan bulan bekerja di toko prangko dan koin sebelum akhirnya ia mengakui bahwa ia tidak menyukai satu laci. Itu laci paling bawah di meja kasir panjang dari kayu ek, satu-satunya yang berkunci. Tidak seorang pun pernah menemukan kuncinya.

The owner, a quiet man who had moved to the coast in the spring, had left her a binder of instructions. Page forty said only, "Do not worry about the locked drawer. It is not important."

Si pemilik, pria pendiam yang pindah ke pesisir pada musim semi, meninggalkan buku panduan untuknya. Halaman empat puluh hanya berbunyi, "Jangan khawatirkan laci yang terkunci. Itu tidak penting."

For months she had obeyed him. She sold albums of postage stamps to schoolchildren, polished silver coins for retired engineers, and learned to tell a real misprint from a smudge. The drawer sat below her knees like a small, stubborn animal.

Berbulan-bulan ia menurutinya. Ia menjual album prangko kepada anak-anak sekolah, menggosok koin perak untuk para insinyur pensiunan, dan belajar membedakan salah cetak yang asli dari noda. Laci itu bertengger di bawah lututnya seperti hewan kecil yang keras kepala.

Then the insurance company sent a form. Every item in the shop had to be listed, counted, and valued before the end of the month.

Lalu perusahaan asuransi mengirim sebuah formulir. Setiap barang di toko harus didaftar, dihitung, dan dinilai sebelum akhir bulan.

"Everything?" Edin asked the empty shop, and the shop did not answer.

"Semuanya?" tanya Edin kepada toko yang kosong, dan toko itu tidak menjawab.

She worked for three evenings, with the sign turned to closed. She counted the albums, weighed the loose coins, and photographed the glass cases. When she reached the last line of the form, which was headed "Contents of locked storage," she hesitated.

Ia bekerja selama tiga malam, dengan papan pintu dibalik ke tulisan tutup. Ia menghitung album, menimbang koin lepas, dan memotret etalase kaca. Ketika sampai di baris terakhir formulir, yang berjudul "Isi tempat penyimpanan terkunci," ia ragu.

She knocked on the drawer with one knuckle. It sounded hollow, or at least she decided that it did. She wanted to go home, and the owner had called it unimportant, so she wrote one word in the box. Empty.

Ia mengetuk laci itu dengan satu buku jari. Bunyinya hampa, atau setidaknya ia memutuskan demikian. Ia ingin pulang, dan si pemilik menyebutnya tidak penting, jadi ia menulis satu kata di kotak itu. Kosong.

Two days later Cato came into the shop. He was a thin man in a faded grey jacket, with a magnifying glass on a cord around his neck. He introduced himself as a valuer sent by the insurance company to check her figures.

Dua hari kemudian Cato datang ke toko. Ia pria kurus berjaket abu-abu pudar, dengan kaca pembesar di seutas tali yang melingkari lehernya. Ia memperkenalkan diri sebagai penilai yang dikirim perusahaan asuransi untuk memeriksa angka-angkanya.

"I will not take long," he said. "Most of these visits are a formality."

"Saya tidak akan lama," katanya. "Sebagian besar kunjungan seperti ini hanya formalitas."

"I hope so," said Edin. "I did everything carefully."

"Semoga begitu," kata Edin. "Saya mengerjakan semuanya dengan teliti."

He moved through the shop with a patient, slightly sleepy manner, opening cases and reading labels. Now and then he made a small note in a book with a green cover. Edin pretended to rearrange the pens on the counter, though she had arranged them twice already.

Ia berkeliling toko dengan sikap sabar dan agak mengantuk, membuka etalase dan membaca label. Sesekali ia membuat catatan kecil di buku bersampul hijau. Edin berpura-pura menata ulang pulpen di meja, padahal sudah dua kali ia menatanya.

After an hour he stopped beside the oak counter and rested his hand on top of it. Then he stood very still, as if he were listening to something far away.

Setelah satu jam ia berhenti di samping meja kayu ek dan menaruh tangannya di atasnya. Lalu ia berdiri diam sekali, seakan-akan sedang mendengarkan sesuatu yang jauh.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"Ada masalah?" tanyanya.

"Not at all. I only noticed that your bottom drawer is locked." He tilted his head. "The form says it is empty."

"Sama sekali tidak. Saya hanya memperhatikan bahwa laci paling bawah Anda terkunci." Ia memiringkan kepala. "Formulirnya menyebut laci itu kosong."

"It is. The owner told me it was not important."

"Memang kosong. Pemiliknya bilang itu tidak penting."

"People say that about many things." Cato crouched down, with a small groan, and tapped the front of the drawer the way she had done. Then he slid his fingers underneath and tipped the whole counter very slightly towards himself.

"Orang memang mengatakan itu tentang banyak hal." Cato berjongkok, dengan erangan kecil, dan mengetuk bagian depan laci seperti yang tadi ia lakukan. Lalu ia menyelipkan jari-jarinya ke bawah dan memiringkan seluruh meja itu sedikit ke arahnya.

Something shifted inside the drawer with a soft, heavy sound.

Sesuatu bergeser di dalam laci dengan bunyi lembut yang berat.

Edin felt her stomach drop. "That might be the wood moving," she said weakly.

Perut Edin serasa jatuh. "Mungkin itu kayunya yang bergerak," katanya lemah.

"Wood does not usually clink," said Cato. He was not unkind about it. He simply stayed where he was, on one knee, waiting for her to decide what kind of person she wanted to be.

"Kayu biasanya tidak berdenting," kata Cato. Ia mengatakannya tanpa nada kasar. Ia hanya tetap di tempatnya, bertumpu pada satu lutut, menunggu Edin memutuskan ingin menjadi orang seperti apa.

"I should have asked," she said at last. "I wrote that it was empty because I did not want to be the one to open it. That was a mistake, and I knew it was one while I was writing."

"Seharusnya saya bertanya," katanya akhirnya. "Saya menulis kosong karena tidak mau jadi orang yang membukanya. Itu kesalahan, dan saya tahu itu kesalahan saat menulisnya."

"Then it is a mistake you have already half corrected," said Cato.

"Kalau begitu itu kesalahan yang sudah setengah Anda perbaiki," kata Cato.

She laughed in spite of herself. "How do you open a drawer without a key?"

Ia tertawa meski tidak ingin. "Bagaimana cara membuka laci tanpa kunci?"

"Gently, if possible." He took a thin strip of metal from his jacket pocket. "I carry this for old cabinets. It has never been used on anything I was not asked to open. May I?"

"Dengan lembut, kalau bisa." Ia mengambil sehelai logam tipis dari saku jaketnya. "Ini saya bawa untuk lemari-lemari tua. Belum pernah dipakai untuk membuka apa pun yang tidak diminta kepada saya. Boleh?"

"Please. It is my signature on the form, so it is my problem."

"Silakan. Tanda tangan saya yang ada di formulir itu, jadi ini masalah saya."

It took him almost ten minutes. Edin held the lamp and tried not to breathe too loudly. When the lock finally gave way, it did so with a small, dry click, like a tongue against teeth.

Ia membutuhkan hampir sepuluh menit. Edin memegang lampu dan berusaha tidak bernapas terlalu keras. Ketika kuncinya akhirnya menyerah, bunyinya klik kecil yang kering, seperti lidah beradu dengan gigi.

The drawer slid out slowly. Inside lay a flat tray of faded blue velvet, and on the velvet rested forty or fifty coins, each one set in its own hollow. Beside them was a bundle of stamps wrapped in thin paper, tied with a piece of string that had gone brittle with age.

Laci itu bergeser keluar perlahan. Di dalamnya terdapat nampan datar berlapis beludru biru pudar, dan di atas beludru itu bertengger empat puluh atau lima puluh koin, masing-masing di lekuknya sendiri. Di sebelahnya ada seikat prangko terbungkus kertas tipis, diikat dengan seutas tali yang sudah getas oleh usia.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Untuk beberapa saat tak seorang pun dari mereka berbicara.

"These are not ordinary," Cato said finally. He lifted the magnifying glass and bent over the tray. "This is a coin from a mint that closed more than a century ago. And this one, here, has a flaw in the lettering. Collectors search for that kind of flaw for years."

"Ini bukan koin biasa," kata Cato akhirnya. Ia mengangkat kaca pembesar dan membungkuk di atas nampan. "Ini koin dari percetakan uang yang ditutup lebih dari seabad lalu. Dan yang ini, di sini, ada cacat pada hurufnya. Para kolektor mencari cacat semacam itu bertahun-tahun."

"The owner never mentioned any of it."

"Pemiliknya tidak pernah menyebut apa pun soal ini."

"Perhaps he had forgotten. Perhaps he did not know. A drawer can be locked by one person and inherited by another, and the reason can disappear along the way." Cato straightened up slowly. "What matters is that if there had been a fire last winter, you would have been paid for an empty drawer."

"Mungkin dia lupa. Mungkin dia tidak tahu. Sebuah laci bisa dikunci oleh satu orang dan diwariskan kepada orang lain, dan alasannya bisa hilang di tengah jalan." Cato berdiri tegak perlahan. "Yang penting, kalau musim dingin lalu terjadi kebakaran, Anda akan dibayar untuk laci kosong."

Edin sat down on the stool behind the counter. "So my honest mistake could have cost the owner a small fortune."

Edin duduk di bangku di belakang meja. "Jadi kesalahan jujur saya bisa saja merugikan pemiliknya dalam jumlah besar."

"It could have. But it didn't, because the figures were checked before anything happened." He closed his green notebook. "That is the entire purpose of my job. Nobody expects people to be perfect. We only hope they will be corrected in time."

"Bisa saja. Tapi tidak terjadi, karena angka-angkanya diperiksa sebelum ada apa-apa." Ia menutup buku catatan hijaunya. "Itulah seluruh tujuan pekerjaan saya. Tidak ada yang berharap orang sempurna. Kami hanya berharap mereka dikoreksi tepat waktu."

She took a pen and drew a line through the word on the form. Her handwriting was shakier than usual. Beneath it she wrote a new description, listing the coins by number, and she left a blank space for the value.

Ia mengambil pulpen dan mencoret kata di formulir itu. Tulisan tangannya lebih gemetar daripada biasanya. Di bawahnya ia menulis deskripsi baru, mendaftar koin-koin itu menurut nomor, dan membiarkan ruang kosong untuk nilainya.

"How long will the valuation take?" she asked.

"Berapa lama penilaiannya?" tanyanya.

"A week, perhaps two. I will need to weigh each piece and compare it with the records." He looked around the shop with new interest. "You may want to move these somewhere safer. And you might want to tell the owner before the news reaches him by post."

"Seminggu, mungkin dua. Saya perlu menimbang tiap keping dan membandingkannya dengan catatan." Ia memandang sekeliling toko dengan minat baru. "Mungkin Anda sebaiknya memindahkan ini ke tempat yang lebih aman. Dan mungkin Anda perlu memberi tahu pemiliknya sebelum kabarnya sampai lewat pos."

"He will be astonished."

"Dia pasti terkejut sekali."

"Or he will say that he always knew." Cato smiled. "Men who leave their treasures in a locked drawer often prefer to be mysterious about it."

"Atau dia akan bilang dia selalu tahu." Cato tersenyum. "Orang yang menyimpan hartanya di laci terkunci biasanya lebih suka bersikap misterius soal itu."

Edin picked up the telephone, then put it down again. She was not sure yet what she would say. It seemed wrong to hurry that call, and wrong to delay it as well.

Edin mengangkat telepon, lalu meletakkannya lagi. Ia belum yakin apa yang akan dikatakannya. Rasanya salah menyegerakan panggilan itu, dan salah juga menundanya.

Instead she brought two cups of water from the back room and set one beside the velvet tray. For a few minutes they sat together in the lamplight and looked at the little coins. Each one waited patiently in its own hollow, as it had waited for years.

Sebagai gantinya ia mengambil dua cangkir air dari ruang belakang dan meletakkan satu di samping nampan beludru. Selama beberapa menit mereka duduk bersama di bawah cahaya lampu dan memandangi koin-koin kecil itu. Masing-masing menunggu dengan sabar di lekuknya sendiri, seperti yang telah mereka lakukan selama bertahun-tahun.

"Mr. Cato," she said eventually, "if the owner wanted the drawer found, would he hide the key somewhere obvious, or where no one would look?"

"Pak Cato," katanya akhirnya, "kalau pemiliknya ingin laci itu ditemukan, apakah dia akan menyembunyikan kuncinya di tempat yang mencolok, atau di tempat yang tak akan dicari siapa pun?"

He turned the magnifying glass over in his hands. "That," he said, "is a very good question. Which answer would you prefer to believe?"

Ia memutar-mutar kaca pembesar di tangannya. "Itu," katanya, "pertanyaan yang sangat bagus. Jawaban mana yang lebih Anda sukai untuk dipercaya?"