The Flute and the Flower Carts

At four in the morning, the flower market is already louder than a school hall. Lorries beep as they back into the loading bays. Men shout prices across the aisles, and buckets of lilies clatter on the wet stone floor. Karim stands behind his mother's stall with a bunch of white roses in each hand. A flute case sits on a crate beside him, wrapped in a plastic flower sleeve.

Pukul empat pagi, pasar bunga sudah lebih bising daripada aula sekolah. Truk-truk membunyikan klakson saat mundur ke area bongkar muat. Para pria meneriakkan harga di sepanjang lorong, dan ember-ember berisi lili berkelontang di lantai batu yang basah. Karim berdiri di belakang lapak ibunya dengan seikat mawar putih di masing-masing tangan. Sebuah kotak seruling terletak di atas peti di sampingnya, terbungkus kantong plastik bunga.

Today is the day of his audition for the city youth orchestra. It starts at six o'clock, in the concert hall at the far end of the market district. The judges lock the doors at six exactly. A late player does not get a second turn.

Hari ini adalah hari audisinya untuk orkestra pemuda kota. Audisi dimulai pukul enam, di gedung konser di ujung distrik pasar. Para juri mengunci pintu tepat pukul enam. Pemain yang terlambat tidak mendapat giliran kedua.

"You should leave by five," his mother says. She is counting stems and does not look up. "I can manage the stall with the new boy."

"Sebaiknya kamu berangkat pukul lima," kata ibunya. Ia sedang menghitung tangkai dan tidak menoleh. "Ibu bisa mengurus lapak dengan anak baru itu."

"The delivery for the hotel isn't ready yet," Karim says. "I'll finish it first. Then I'll go."

"Pesanan untuk hotel belum siap," kata Karim. "Aku selesaikan dulu. Baru nanti aku pergi."

He always says this. Karim is the kind of person who thinks every job is his job. He does not like to ask for help. He does not like to leave a task half done. So he ties the hotel's flowers into forty neat bunches, and he checks each one twice.

Ia selalu berkata begitu. Karim adalah tipe orang yang menganggap setiap pekerjaan adalah pekerjaannya. Ia tidak suka meminta bantuan. Ia tidak suka meninggalkan tugas yang setengah jadi. Maka ia mengikat bunga untuk hotel menjadi empat puluh buket rapi, dan memeriksa masing-masing dua kali.

At twenty past five, he finally lifts the flute case. Wilf is waiting at the end of the aisle with an empty hand trolley. He is sixteen and works for the biggest wholesaler in the market. He knows every corner of the building.

Pukul lima lewat dua puluh, akhirnya ia mengangkat kotak serulingnya. Wilf menunggu di ujung lorong dengan troli tangan kosong. Ia berusia enam belas tahun dan bekerja untuk grosir terbesar di pasar itu. Ia hafal setiap sudut gedung.

"You look terrible," Wilf says. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Kamu kelihatan parah," kata Wilf. "Kamu sempat tidur tidak?"

"No time to talk," says Karim. "I have forty minutes to cross the market. I'll take the main aisle."

"Tidak ada waktu mengobrol," kata Karim. "Aku punya empat puluh menit untuk menyeberangi pasar. Aku lewat lorong utama."

Wilf laughs. "The main aisle? Have you looked at it today?"

Wilf tertawa. "Lorong utama? Sudah kamu lihat hari ini?"

Karim turns round. The main aisle is a river of vans, carts and shouting people. A delivery lorry has stopped across the middle, and fifty florists are trying to squeeze past it. Nothing moves. A man is arguing with a driver who has locked his doors and gone for coffee.

Karim berbalik. Lorong utama adalah sungai mobil boks, kereta dorong, dan orang-orang yang berteriak. Sebuah truk pengiriman berhenti melintang di tengah, dan lima puluh penjual bunga berusaha menyelip melewatinya. Tak ada yang bergerak. Seorang pria berdebat dengan sopir yang telah mengunci pintunya dan pergi minum kopi.

Karim's stomach drops. He tries the side aisles, one after another, but every one is full of crates. He climbs over a stack of empty buckets and runs along the wall. Ten minutes later he is back where he started. He has a wet shoe and a cut on his thumb. The clock above the fish stall says five forty.

Perut Karim terasa jatuh. Ia mencoba lorong-lorong samping, satu demi satu, tetapi semuanya penuh peti. Ia memanjat tumpukan ember kosong dan berlari menyusuri dinding. Sepuluh menit kemudian ia kembali ke tempat semula. Sebelah sepatunya basah dan ibu jarinya tergores. Jam di atas lapak ikan menunjukkan pukul lima empat puluh.

"It is not possible," he says, breathing hard. "Twenty minutes, and the hall is half a kilometre away."

"Mustahil," katanya, terengah-engah. "Dua puluh menit, dan gedungnya setengah kilometer jauhnya."

"On the roads, yes," Wilf says. "But we are not going by the road."

"Lewat jalan raya, ya," kata Wilf. "Tapi kita tidak lewat jalan raya."

Karim frowns. "Where else is there?"

Karim mengerutkan kening. "Memangnya ada jalan lain?"

"Come with me. And hold your flute high."

"Ikut aku. Dan angkat serulingmu tinggi-tinggi."

Wilf pushes the trolley to a grey metal door behind the cold rooms. The market keeps its cut stems cool in there. The door is marked STAFF ONLY. Karim hesitates, because he has never broken a rule in his life. Then he sees the clock again. He follows Wilf inside.

Wilf mendorong troli ke sebuah pintu logam abu-abu di belakang ruang pendingin. Pasar menyimpan tangkai-tangkai bunga potongnya tetap sejuk di sana. Pintu itu bertuliskan KHUSUS STAF. Karim ragu, karena seumur hidup ia belum pernah melanggar aturan. Lalu ia melihat jam itu lagi. Ia mengikuti Wilf masuk.

The corridor is cold and white, and it smells of wet leaves. Rows of lilies stand in silent buckets on both sides. At the end of the corridor, a long line of flat carts waits beside a rubber belt. Every morning, the market sends the empty buckets along this belt to the washing yard behind the building.

Koridornya dingin dan putih, dan berbau daun basah. Barisan lili berdiri dalam ember-ember yang sunyi di kedua sisi. Di ujung koridor, serangkaian kereta datar menunggu di samping ban berjalan karet. Setiap pagi, pasar mengirim ember-ember kosong lewat ban ini ke halaman pencucian di belakang gedung.

"The belt runs the whole length of the market," Wilf explains. "It stops at the yard, and the yard has a back gate. That gate opens right onto the loading door of the concert hall. I have seen musicians carry their cellos through it."

"Ban ini membentang di sepanjang pasar," Wilf menjelaskan. "Berhenti di halaman pencucian, dan halaman itu punya gerbang belakang. Gerbang itu langsung membuka ke pintu bongkar muat gedung konser. Aku pernah melihat pemusik membawa cello mereka lewat sana."

"Is that safe?" Karim asks.

"Apakah itu aman?" tanya Karim.

"If you lie flat and keep your head down, it is," says Wilf. "Climb on."

"Kalau kamu berbaring telentang dan menundukkan kepala, aman," kata Wilf. "Naiklah."

Karim stares at the belt. Every part of him wants to find a safer plan. But the only other plan is to arrive late. He has already tried that one in his head. He climbs onto a flat cart and lies on his back. The case lands on his chest. Wilf jumps on the next cart and presses a green button.

Karim menatap ban itu. Seluruh dirinya ingin mencari rencana yang lebih aman. Tetapi satu-satunya rencana lain adalah datang terlambat. Rencana itu sudah ia coba dalam kepalanya. Ia naik ke kereta datar dan berbaring telentang. Kotak seruling mendarat di dadanya. Wilf melompat ke kereta berikutnya dan menekan tombol hijau.

The belt starts with a jerk. Karim slides through a rubber curtain into a tunnel full of fans and pipes. Buckets rattle past on both sides. Somewhere above them, he can hear the market, a loud, muffled sound like a crowd in another room. It is the strangest ride of his life, and for a moment he almost laughs.

Ban itu mulai bergerak dengan sentakan. Karim meluncur melewati tirai karet ke sebuah terowongan penuh kipas dan pipa. Ember-ember berkelontang lewat di kedua sisinya. Di suatu tempat di atas mereka, ia bisa mendengar pasar, bunyi keras yang teredam seperti keramaian di ruangan lain. Itu perjalanan paling aneh dalam hidupnya, dan sesaat ia hampir tertawa.

Then the belt slows. A line of buckets blocks the exit, and the cart stops with a bump.

Lalu ban itu melambat. Barisan ember menghalangi jalan keluar, dan kereta itu berhenti dengan sentakan.

"The yard is washing the last load," Wilf says from behind him. "We cannot get through this way. Not in time."

"Halaman pencucian sedang mencuci muatan terakhir," kata Wilf dari belakangnya. "Kita tak bisa lewat sini. Tidak akan sempat."

"What do we do?" Karim whispers. He looks at his watch. It says five fifty-two.

"Apa yang kita lakukan?" bisik Karim. Ia melihat arlojinya. Arloji itu menunjukkan pukul lima lewat lima puluh dua.

Wilf thinks for a few seconds. "The hose room. Follow me and keep your case dry."

Wilf berpikir beberapa detik. "Ruang selang. Ikuti aku dan jaga kotakmu tetap kering."

They crawl off the carts and squeeze between two machines. The hose room is full of steam and noise, and the floor is a lake of soapy water. Karim holds his flute above his head with both hands. Water runs down his sleeves and into his collar. He thinks about asking Wilf to go ahead, then stops. For the first time that morning, he understands that nobody is asking him to do this alone.

Mereka merangkak turun dari kereta dan menyelip di antara dua mesin. Ruang selang itu penuh uap dan kebisingan, dan lantainya telaga air sabun. Karim mengangkat serulingnya di atas kepala dengan kedua tangan. Air mengalir menuruni lengan bajunya dan masuk ke kerahnya. Ia berpikir untuk menyuruh Wilf jalan duluan, lalu berhenti. Untuk pertama kalinya pagi itu, ia mengerti bahwa tak ada yang memintanya melakukan ini sendirian.

"Take my arm," says Wilf. "Left foot, then right."

"Pegang lenganku," kata Wilf. "Kaki kiri, lalu kanan."

They wade across together. At the far end, a small green door stands half open, and daylight comes in under it. Wilf kicks it wide. The back gate of the yard is just ahead. Behind it Karim sees the tall glass wall of the concert hall.

Mereka mengarungi air bersama-sama. Di ujung seberang, sebuah pintu hijau kecil terbuka setengah, dan cahaya siang masuk dari bawahnya. Wilf menendangnya hingga terbuka lebar. Gerbang belakang halaman ada tepat di depan. Di balik gerbang itu Karim melihat dinding kaca tinggi gedung konser.

They run. Karim's shoes squelch on the pavement, and the flute case bangs against his leg. A man in a black jacket stands at the loading door with a key in his hand. He is already turning the lock.

Mereka berlari. Sepatu Karim berdecit di trotoar, dan kotak seruling membentur kakinya. Seorang pria berjaket hitam berdiri di pintu bongkar muat dengan kunci di tangan. Ia sudah memutar kuncinya.

"Wait, please," Karim shouts. "I am here for the audition!"

"Tunggu, tolong," teriak Karim. "Saya datang untuk audisi!"

The man looks at him for a long moment. He takes in the wet clothes, the cut thumb and the petals stuck in Karim's hair. Then he steps aside and holds the door. The clock in the hallway says five fifty-nine.

Pria itu menatapnya agak lama. Ia memperhatikan pakaian yang basah, ibu jari yang tergores, dan kelopak bunga yang menempel di rambut Karim. Lalu ia menepi dan menahan pintu. Jam di lorong menunjukkan pukul lima lewat lima puluh sembilan.

Inside, Karim dries his hands on his shirt and takes the flute out of its sleeve. It is perfectly dry. He wipes his face, breathes in slowly and walks onto the stage. Three judges sit at a long table. One of them looks up from her papers and smiles at the petals.

Di dalam, Karim mengeringkan tangannya pada kemeja dan mengeluarkan seruling dari bungkusnya. Seruling itu kering sempurna. Ia menyeka wajah, menarik napas pelan, dan berjalan ke atas panggung. Tiga juri duduk di meja panjang. Salah satunya mengangkat wajah dari kertasnya dan tersenyum melihat kelopak bunga itu.

Karim lifts the flute to his lips. Then he lowers it again and turns to the judges. "Shall I start with the slow piece or the fast one?"

Karim mengangkat seruling ke bibirnya. Lalu ia menurunkannya lagi dan menoleh kepada para juri. "Apakah saya mulai dengan lagu yang pelan atau yang cepat?"