The Flag That Would Not Rise

Every morning at eight, Abena turned the brass wheel in the back corner of the cloakroom. The wheel was old and heavy. It pulled a long cord up through the wall and over the roof. The cord ran out to the flagpole above the museum door.

Setiap pagi pukul delapan, Abena memutar roda kuningan di sudut belakang ruang penitipan mantel. Roda itu tua dan berat. Roda itu menarik tali panjang naik melalui dinding dan melewati atap. Tali itu terentang ke tiang bendera di atas pintu museum.

For eleven years the flag had risen halfway and then stopped. Nobody at the museum knew why. Abena always gave the wall two soft knocks and said good morning to the flag in her head. Then she went back to her counter.

Selama sebelas tahun bendera itu naik setengah tiang lalu berhenti. Tak seorang pun di museum tahu sebabnya. Abena selalu mengetuk dinding dua kali dengan lembut dan menyapa selamat pagi kepada bendera itu dalam hati. Lalu ia kembali ke mejanya.

She liked her routine. She liked the smell of floor polish and the quiet before the first visitors came. She liked the long rows of empty hooks, waiting for coats.

Ia menyukai rutinitasnya. Ia menyukai bau semir lantai dan keheningan sebelum pengunjung pertama datang. Ia menyukai barisan panjang kait kosong yang menunggu mantel.

On a Monday in March, somebody tapped on the counter. It was ten past eight, and the museum was still closed. Abena had not turned the wheel yet. She looked up from her list of school visits, annoyed with herself.

Pada suatu hari Senin di bulan Maret, seseorang mengetuk meja. Waktu itu pukul delapan lewat sepuluh, dan museum masih tutup. Abena belum memutar rodanya. Ia mengangkat wajah dari daftar kunjungan sekolahnya, kesal pada dirinya sendiri.

A tall man stood there with a canvas bag on his shoulder. He held a coil of thin rope in one hand. He looked friendly and slightly unsure of himself.

Seorang pria jangkung berdiri di sana dengan tas kanvas di bahunya. Ia memegang segulung tali tipis di satu tangan. Ia tampak ramah dan sedikit ragu.

"Sorry to bother you," he said. "I know you are not open yet. Is this where the flag cord comes into the building?"

"Maaf mengganggu," katanya. "Saya tahu Anda belum buka. Apakah di sini tali bendera masuk ke dalam gedung?"

Abena stared at him. "How do you know about the cord?"

Abena menatapnya. "Bagaimana Anda tahu soal tali itu?"

"I work across the road," he said. "I mend sails and tents. My workshop window looks straight at your roof."

"Saya bekerja di seberang jalan," katanya. "Saya memperbaiki layar dan tenda. Jendela bengkel saya menghadap langsung ke atap Anda."

"Every morning your flag goes up halfway and stops. I have seen it a thousand times. Today I finally decided to come over."

"Setiap pagi bendera Anda naik setengah tiang lalu berhenti. Sudah seribu kali saya melihatnya. Hari ini akhirnya saya memutuskan untuk datang."

"It has done that for eleven years," Abena said.

"Sudah sebelas tahun begitu," kata Abena.

The man laughed. "Then I am very late. My name is Anand. May I look at it?"

Pria itu tertawa. "Kalau begitu saya sudah sangat terlambat. Nama saya Anand. Boleh saya melihatnya?"

"The wheel belongs to the building," Abena said. "The director says nobody may touch it. It is on a list of old things."

"Roda itu milik gedung ini," kata Abena. "Direktur bilang tidak boleh ada yang menyentuhnya. Roda itu masuk daftar benda tua."

"I will not touch the wheel," said Anand. "I only want to look at the roof. If I am wrong, I will go away and never mention the flag again."

"Saya tidak akan menyentuh roda itu," kata Anand. "Saya hanya ingin melihat atapnya. Kalau saya salah, saya akan pergi dan tidak akan pernah menyebut bendera itu lagi."

Abena thought about it. She did not usually say yes to strangers with rope. But he sounded honest, and eleven years was a long time to knock on a wall.

Abena memikirkannya. Biasanya ia tidak mengiyakan orang asing yang membawa tali. Namun pria itu terdengar jujur, dan sebelas tahun adalah waktu yang lama untuk mengetuk dinding.

She phoned the director's office. An assistant listened, sighed, and said the caretaker could take Anand up, if Anand signed a paper first.

Ia menelepon kantor direktur. Seorang asisten mendengarkan, mendesah, dan berkata penjaga gedung boleh mengantar Anand naik, asalkan Anand menandatangani selembar surat dulu.

Anand signed it. Then they found the caretaker, a man with a bad knee, drinking his coffee.

Anand menandatanganinya. Lalu mereka mencari penjaga gedung, seorang pria dengan lutut yang buruk yang sedang minum kopi.

The caretaker looked at the stairs, then at his knee, then at Abena. "You go with him," he said, and gave her a ring of keys. "You know that wheel better than anyone. Bring the keys back."

Penjaga gedung itu memandang tangga, lalu lututnya, lalu Abena. "Kamu saja yang menemaninya," katanya, dan menyerahkan seikat kunci. "Kamu lebih kenal roda itu daripada siapa pun. Kembalikan kuncinya."

So Abena climbed the narrow stairs behind a stranger, which she had never done before. The last door opened onto a flat roof with a low wall around it. The flagpole stood at the far end, thin and dark against the pale sky.

Maka Abena menaiki tangga sempit di belakang seorang asing, sesuatu yang belum pernah ia lakukan. Pintu terakhir terbuka ke atap datar yang dikelilingi tembok rendah. Tiang bendera berdiri di ujung seberang, tipis dan gelap di depan langit yang pucat.

Anand knelt at the base of the pole. "Come and see," he said.

Anand berlutut di dasar tiang. "Mari lihat," katanya.

The cord crossed the roof and turned a corner over a small wooden pulley. Then it climbed the pole. A long crack split the wood down the middle.

Tali itu melintasi atap dan berbelok di sudut melewati katrol kayu kecil. Lalu tali itu naik menyusuri tiang. Sebuah retakan panjang membelah kayunya tepat di tengah.

"There is your problem," Anand said. "The wheel in your cloakroom is fine. This pulley is old and soft."

"Itulah masalahnya," kata Anand. "Roda di ruang penitipan Anda baik-baik saja. Katrol ini tua dan lunak."

He pulled gently on the cord, and a fat knot slid into view. "Somebody joined two pieces of cord here and tied them together. When the knot reaches the crack, it catches. Then everything stops."

Ia menarik tali itu perlahan, dan sebuah simpul besar bergeser ke arah mereka. "Seseorang menyambung dua potong tali di sini dan mengikatnya. Ketika simpul itu sampai ke retakan, ia tersangkut. Lalu semuanya berhenti."

"Somebody in a hurry," Abena said.

"Seseorang yang sedang terburu-buru," kata Abena.

"Somebody in a hurry, eleven years ago," Anand agreed. "If you force the knot through, the wood will split. Please leave the flag down today."

"Seseorang yang sedang terburu-buru, sebelas tahun lalu," Anand membenarkan. "Kalau simpulnya dipaksa lewat, kayunya akan pecah. Tolong biarkan bendera tetap turun hari ini."

"Can you fix it?" she asked.

"Bisakah Anda memperbaikinya?" tanyanya.

He shook his head. "I need a small metal pulley, and I do not have one. But I know a man with a lathe. If I ask politely, he will make me a brass wheel. It will take two days."

Ia menggeleng. "Saya butuh katrol logam kecil, dan saya tidak punya. Tapi saya kenal seorang pria yang punya mesin bubut. Kalau saya memintanya dengan sopan, ia akan membuatkan roda kuningan. Butuh dua hari."

Abena looked at the bare pole. She remembered the photographs in the entrance hall, where the flag stood proudly at the very top.

Abena memandang tiang yang kosong itu. Ia teringat foto-foto di aula depan, tempat bendera berdiri dengan bangga di puncak tiang.

"Two days is nothing," she said. "I have waited eleven years."

"Dua hari bukan apa-apa," katanya. "Aku sudah menunggu sebelas tahun."

The museum opened at half past nine, and the first problem arrived at once. A boy in a school group pointed through the glass door. "Why is there no flag?"

Museum dibuka pukul setengah sepuluh, dan masalah pertama langsung muncul. Seorang anak laki-laki dalam rombongan sekolah menunjuk lewat pintu kaca. "Kenapa tidak ada bendera?"

"It is on holiday," said Abena. The boy accepted this immediately. His teacher did not look so sure.

"Benderanya sedang libur," kata Abena. Anak itu langsung menerimanya. Gurunya tampak tidak begitu yakin.

All morning, coats came across her counter, thirty and then forty more. Abena hung each one on a hook and handed out numbered tokens. She loved the rhythm of the work. But that day she kept glancing at the glass door. The man with the rope might walk back through it.

Sepanjang pagi, mantel-mantel datang melewati mejanya, tiga puluh lalu empat puluh lagi. Abena menggantung setiap mantel di satu kait dan membagikan nomor tanda. Ia menyukai irama pekerjaan itu. Namun hari itu ia terus melirik pintu kaca. Pria dengan tali itu mungkin akan berjalan masuk lagi lewat sana.

On Tuesday, Anand did not come. At eight o'clock Abena put her hand on the wheel out of habit, then took it away again. The cloakroom was as quiet as always. For some reason, the quiet no longer felt comfortable.

Pada hari Selasa, Anand tidak datang. Pukul delapan Abena meletakkan tangan di roda karena kebiasaan, lalu menariknya kembali. Ruang penitipan sunyi seperti biasa. Entah mengapa, kesunyian itu tak lagi terasa nyaman.

On Wednesday morning, he did not come either. She told herself that this was normal. People had jobs. Brass wheels were difficult to make. She checked the clock eleven times before lunch.

Pada hari Rabu pagi, ia juga tidak datang. Abena berkata pada dirinya bahwa itu wajar. Orang punya pekerjaan. Roda kuningan sulit dibuat. Sebelum makan siang, ia memeriksa jam sebelas kali.

He walked in at closing time, when the last visitors were leaving. There was a dark smudge on his cheek, and he held something wrapped in a cloth.

Pria itu masuk saat jam tutup, ketika pengunjung terakhir hendak pulang. Ada noda gelap di pipinya, dan ia memegang sesuatu yang terbungkus kain.

"I am sorry," he said. "My friend had to start again twice. The first wheel was not round enough."

"Maaf," katanya. "Teman saya harus mengulang dua kali. Roda pertama kurang bulat."

"Is it round now?" Abena asked.

"Sekarang sudah bulat?" tanya Abena.

"Perfectly round." Anand opened the cloth. The little brass wheel shone in his hand. "I also brought a new cord. I will weave the ends together instead of tying a knot. Then nothing can catch."

"Bulat sempurna." Anand membuka kain itu. Roda kuningan kecil itu berkilau di tangannya. "Saya juga membawa tali baru. Ujung-ujungnya akan saya anyam menyatu, bukan saya simpul. Dengan begitu tak ada yang bisa tersangkut."

The caretaker had already gone home, so Abena took the keys herself. They climbed the stairs together in the half dark. She held the lamp while Anand worked. Their fingers touched once when he passed her the old pulley.

Penjaga gedung sudah pulang, jadi Abena membawa kuncinya sendiri. Mereka menaiki tangga bersama dalam remang-remang. Ia memegang lampu sementara Anand bekerja. Jari mereka bersentuhan sekali saat Anand menyerahkan katrol lama kepadanya.

He set the brass wheel in its place. Then he joined the cord with a smooth, thick weave of strands. She could not follow it with her eyes. His hands were careful and quick, like the hands of a surgeon.

Anand memasang roda kuningan di tempatnya. Lalu ia menyambung tali dengan anyaman untaian yang halus dan tebal. Abena tak bisa mengikutinya dengan mata. Tangannya cermat dan cepat, seperti tangan seorang ahli bedah.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she asked.

"Di mana Anda belajar melakukan itu?" tanyanya.

"On boats," he said. "My father repaired sails. Now I live in a town with no harbour, and I mend tents." He smiled. "Somebody has to look after the things that lift."

"Di perahu," katanya. "Ayah saya memperbaiki layar. Sekarang saya tinggal di kota tanpa pelabuhan, dan saya memperbaiki tenda." Ia tersenyum. "Harus ada yang merawat benda-benda yang mengangkat."

At last he stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers. "Go downstairs," he said. "Turn the wheel slowly. I will stay here and watch the pulley."

Akhirnya ia berdiri dan mengelap tangannya pada celana. "Turunlah," katanya. "Putar roda itu pelan-pelan. Saya akan tinggal di sini dan mengawasi katrolnya."

Abena went down through the empty museum. The cloakroom was dim and smelled of polish. The hooks stood in their rows like a small, quiet crowd. She put both hands on the brass wheel and turned.

Abena turun melewati museum yang kosong. Ruang penitipan itu remang dan berbau semir. Kait-kait berdiri berbaris seperti kerumunan kecil yang hening. Ia meletakkan kedua tangan di roda kuningan itu dan memutar.

It moved easily, with a soft click at every tooth. She turned, and turned, and kept turning. She waited for the stop that had come every morning for eleven years. It did not come.

Roda itu bergerak dengan mudah, dengan bunyi klik lembut pada setiap giginya. Ia memutar, dan memutar, dan terus memutar. Ia menunggu hentian yang datang setiap pagi selama sebelas tahun. Hentian itu tak datang.

Then the wheel gave a small jump and held firm by itself. Abena stood very still.

Lalu roda itu melompat kecil dan bertahan kokoh dengan sendirinya. Abena berdiri diam sekali.

She walked out through the glass doors and onto the front steps. The street lamps had just come on. A minute later, Anand appeared beside her, breathing hard from the stairs.

Ia berjalan keluar lewat pintu kaca dan ke tangga depan. Lampu-lampu jalan baru saja menyala. Semenit kemudian, Anand muncul di sampingnya, terengah-engah karena tangga.

High above the door, the flag hung at the very top of the pole. It was fully open for the first time in eleven years.

Tinggi di atas pintu, bendera itu terpasang di puncak tiang. Untuk pertama kalinya dalam sebelas tahun, bendera itu terbentang penuh.

Neither of them spoke. His shoulder was close to hers. Above them the cord hummed softly against the new brass wheel. The flag moved a little in the dark, as if it were breathing.

Tak seorang pun dari mereka berbicara. Bahunya dekat dengan bahu Abena. Di atas mereka tali berdengung lembut pada roda kuningan yang baru. Bendera itu bergerak sedikit dalam gelap, seakan sedang bernapas.