The Folded Crane on the Roof

On Saturday mornings, Dalila runs a small plant stall on the roof garden above the shopping centre. The garden club from her school sells seedlings there to raise money for a new greenhouse. Most visitors want basil or sunflowers. Dalila mostly wants to look at the herb beds across the path.

Pada pagi hari Sabtu, Dalila mengelola lapak tanaman kecil di kebun atap di atas pusat perbelanjaan. Klub berkebun dari sekolahnya menjual bibit di sana untuk mengumpulkan uang bagi rumah kaca baru. Kebanyakan pengunjung menginginkan kemangi atau bunga matahari. Dalila kebanyakan hanya ingin memandangi bedengan rempah di seberang jalan setapak.

That is where Omar works. He wears a green apron. He carries a dented watering can that is always a little too full. He knows the name of every plant in the garden. He also knows which ones have been watered and which ones are pretending.

Di situlah Omar bekerja. Ia memakai celemek hijau. Ia membawa penyiram penyok yang selalu terisi sedikit terlalu penuh. Ia tahu nama setiap tanaman di kebun itu. Ia juga tahu mana yang sudah disiram dan mana yang cuma pura-pura.

Dalila has watched him for three weeks. She has never said more than "Hello" and "Thanks." Every time she plans a longer sentence, it falls apart before it reaches her mouth.

Dalila sudah mengamatinya selama tiga minggu. Ia tak pernah mengatakan lebih dari "Halo" dan "Makasih." Setiap kali ia merencanakan kalimat yang lebih panjang, kalimat itu buyar sebelum sampai ke mulutnya.

This morning she sits behind the stall with a page from the seed catalogue. It shows a large photograph of purple lavender. She folds the paper carefully, corner to corner, the way her cousin showed her last summer. Ten minutes later, she is holding a paper crane with long, pointed wings.

Pagi ini ia duduk di balik lapak dengan selembar halaman dari katalog benih. Halaman itu menampilkan foto besar lavender ungu. Ia melipat kertas itu dengan hati-hati, dari sudut ke sudut, seperti yang diajarkan sepupunya musim panas lalu. Sepuluh menit kemudian, ia memegang bangau kertas dengan sayap panjang yang runcing.

Before she closes the last fold, she writes on the inside in tiny letters. Then she lifts the wing and reads it again. It says: "I think the mint likes you more than it likes me."

Sebelum menutup lipatan terakhir, ia menulis di bagian dalamnya dengan huruf-huruf kecil. Lalu ia mengangkat sayapnya dan membacanya lagi. Tulisannya: "Kurasa mint lebih menyukaimu daripada menyukaiku."

It is not a great sentence. It is probably the bravest one she has ever written.

Itu bukan kalimat yang hebat. Mungkin itu kalimat paling berani yang pernah ia tulis.

"Okay," she whispers. "Now I only need to give it to him."

"Baiklah," bisiknya. "Sekarang tinggal memberikannya kepadanya."

She stands up and sits down again. Omar is twenty steps away, bent over the thyme. Twenty steps feels like the length of a football field.

Ia berdiri lalu duduk lagi. Omar berada dua puluh langkah jauhnya, membungkuk di atas tanaman thyme. Dua puluh langkah terasa seperti panjang lapangan sepak bola.

The woman at the next stall looks over. She sells flowers in paper cones, and she misses nothing. "Is that for someone?" she asks.

Perempuan di lapak sebelah menoleh. Ia menjual bunga dalam kerucut kertas, dan tak ada yang luput dari matanya. "Itu untuk seseorang?" tanyanya.

"Maybe," says Dalila. Her voice comes out smaller than she wants. "Could you give it to the boy with the watering can? Please? I have to watch the till."

"Mungkin," kata Dalila. Suaranya keluar lebih kecil daripada yang ia inginkan. "Bisakah Ibu memberikannya kepada anak laki-laki yang membawa penyiram itu? Tolong? Aku harus menjaga kasir."

The woman smiles and takes the crane in her palm. "Of course, love. Leave it with me."

Perempuan itu tersenyum dan menaruh bangau itu di telapak tangannya. "Tentu, Nak. Serahkan saja padaku."

Dalila sits very still and tries to look busy. She straightens a row of pots. She counts the coins in the till twice. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches the flower seller walk down the path.

Dalila duduk diam sekali dan berusaha tampak sibuk. Ia merapikan sebaris pot. Ia menghitung koin di kasir dua kali. Dari sudut matanya, ia memperhatikan si penjual bunga berjalan menyusuri jalan setapak.

Then something goes wrong. A school group arrives. The path fills with children carrying small green watering cans. At least six boys are holding a can. The woman stops, looks around, and chooses the nearest one.

Lalu ada yang salah. Serombongan murid sekolah tiba. Jalan setapak dipenuhi anak-anak yang membawa penyiram hijau kecil. Sedikitnya enam anak laki-laki memegang penyiram. Perempuan itu berhenti, menoleh ke sekeliling, dan memilih yang terdekat.

"This is for you," she says, and puts the crane in his hands.

"Ini untukmu," katanya, dan meletakkan bangau itu di tangannya.

The boy is about nine years old. He looks at the crane for a long time, as if it might be a trick. Then he decides it is a prize. "Cool!" he says. He holds it above his head and runs off down the path.

Anak laki-laki itu berusia sekitar sembilan tahun. Ia memandangi bangau itu lama sekali, seakan itu mungkin tipuan. Lalu ia memutuskan itu hadiah. "Keren!" katanya. Ia mengangkatnya di atas kepala dan berlari menyusuri jalan setapak.

Dalila puts her face in her hands. The nine-year-old runs past the herb beds and the fountain. He runs straight into a man in a blue uniform who is checking the lift. The man is a security guard, and he is very serious about his job.

Dalila menutup wajah dengan kedua tangan. Anak sembilan tahun itu berlari melewati bedengan rempah dan air mancur. Ia menabrak seorang pria berseragam biru yang sedang memeriksa lift. Pria itu satpam, dan ia sangat serius pada pekerjaannya.

"Where did you get that?" the guard asks.

"Dari mana kamu dapat itu?" tanya satpam itu.

"A lady gave it to me," says the boy.

"Seorang ibu memberikannya padaku," kata anak itu.

"Then it belongs to somebody," the guard says. He takes the crane gently and turns it around in his large hands. He finds a single letter on one wing, a small neat D. "Hmm. D," he mutters. "Does anyone here have a name that starts with D?"

"Kalau begitu itu milik seseorang," kata satpam. Ia mengambil bangau itu dengan lembut dan memutarnya di tangannya yang besar. Ia menemukan satu huruf di salah satu sayapnya, sebuah D kecil yang rapi. "Hmm. D," gumamnya. "Adakah di sini yang namanya berawalan D?"

Nobody answers. A few people look up and then look away.

Tak ada yang menjawab. Beberapa orang mengangkat wajah lalu memalingkannya lagi.

The guard walks the length of the garden, holding the crane out like a lost glove. At the stall, he asks Dalila. Dalila freezes and cannot say a word, but her neighbour answers for her.

Satpam itu berjalan menyusuri seluruh kebun, mengacungkan bangau itu seperti sarung tangan yang hilang. Di lapak, ia bertanya kepada Dalila. Dalila membeku dan tak sanggup berkata sepatah kata pun, tetapi tetangganya menjawab untuknya.

"Her name starts with D," says the flower seller. "But it isn't hers. It is for the boy with the watering can."

"Namanya berawalan D," kata si penjual bunga. "Tapi itu bukan untuknya. Itu untuk anak laki-laki yang membawa penyiram."

"Which boy?" asks the guard. "There are six of them."

"Anak yang mana?" tanya satpam. "Ada enam anak."

"The one in the green apron," says the woman.

"Yang memakai celemek hijau," kata perempuan itu.

The guard nods slowly. "Ah, the gardener," he says. He gives the crane a little bow, as if it could understand. "That I can do."

Satpam mengangguk pelan. "Oh, si tukang kebun," katanya. Ia membungkuk kecil kepada bangau itu, seakan bangau itu bisa mengerti. "Yang itu bisa saya urus."

He walks to the herb beds and stops beside the thyme. Omar looks up from his work. His hands are muddy, and there is a leaf in his hair.

Ia berjalan ke bedengan rempah dan berhenti di samping tanaman thyme. Omar mengangkat wajah dari pekerjaannya. Tangannya berlumpur, dan ada sehelai daun di rambutnya.

"Excuse me," says the guard. "A young lady sent this. I think it might be yours."

"Permisi," kata satpam. "Seorang nona muda mengirimkan ini. Kurasa ini mungkin milikmu."

Omar wipes his fingers on his apron and takes the crane as if it were made of glass. He looks at the wings and at the folded point of the beak. He turns it over twice, and then he finds the corner that opens.

Omar mengelap jarinya pada celemek dan menerima bangau itu seakan terbuat dari kaca. Ia memandang sayap-sayapnya dan ujung paruh yang terlipat. Ia membaliknya dua kali, lalu menemukan sudut yang bisa dibuka.

Dalila cannot see his face from the stall. She can only see his back and the green apron. The guard walks away, whistling softly, and she feels both horrified and strangely proud.

Dalila tak bisa melihat wajahnya dari lapak. Ia hanya bisa melihat punggungnya dan celemek hijau itu. Satpam itu berjalan pergi sambil bersiul pelan, dan ia merasa ngeri sekaligus anehnya bangga.

Omar unfolds the first fold. Then the second. He reads the line inside, and she sees his shoulders move. It might be a laugh. It might be something else.

Omar membuka lipatan pertama. Lalu yang kedua. Ia membaca baris di dalamnya, dan Dalila melihat bahunya bergerak. Mungkin itu tawa. Mungkin sesuatu yang lain.

He stands in the middle of the path with the crane open in his hand. He looks across the garden, past the tomato plants and the fountain and the line of waiting customers. He seems to be searching the faces one by one.

Ia berdiri di tengah jalan setapak dengan bangau terbuka di tangannya. Ia memandang ke seberang kebun, melewati tanaman tomat dan air mancur dan barisan pembeli yang menunggu. Ia tampak mencari di antara wajah-wajah satu per satu.

Dalila ducks behind a tray of sunflower seedlings. Her heart is pounding so loudly that she is sure the customers can hear it.

Dalila menunduk di balik nampan bibit bunga matahari. Jantungnya berdebar begitu keras sehingga ia yakin para pembeli bisa mendengarnya.

"Excuse me," says a woman with a cardboard cup. "How much are the basil plants?"

"Permisi," kata seorang perempuan dengan cangkir karton. "Berapa harga tanaman kemangi?"

"Two for three," Dalila says, and she hands over a pot without looking at it.

"Dua seharga tiga," kata Dalila, dan ia menyerahkan sebuah pot tanpa memandangnya.

When she dares to glance up again, Omar is no longer standing on the path. She spins around. He is walking toward the stall, one slow step at a time. The crane is still in his hand, but now it has been folded back into shape, almost perfectly.

Ketika ia berani melirik lagi, Omar tidak lagi berdiri di jalan setapak. Ia berputar. Omar sedang berjalan menuju lapak, selangkah demi selangkah. Bangau itu masih di tangannya, tetapi kini sudah dilipat kembali ke bentuknya, hampir sempurna.

He stops in front of her table. Up close, he is taller than she remembered, and there is mud on his cheek.

Ia berhenti di depan mejanya. Dari dekat, ia lebih tinggi daripada yang Dalila ingat, dan ada lumpur di pipinya.

"That is a very good crane," he says.

"Itu bangau yang sangat bagus," katanya.

"Thanks," says Dalila. It is the same word she always says. She hates it.

"Makasih," kata Dalila. Itu kata yang selalu ia ucapkan. Ia membencinya.

Omar looks down at the paper and then up at her. "I have a problem with the mint," he says. "It keeps growing into the oregano. I have never found a way to stop it. Maybe you know one."

Omar memandang kertas itu lalu memandangnya. "Aku punya masalah dengan mint," katanya. "Ia terus tumbuh ke arah oregano. Aku belum pernah menemukan cara menghentikannya. Mungkin kamu tahu caranya."

"I might," says Dalila. "I would have to see the bed first."

"Mungkin," kata Dalila. "Aku harus melihat bedengannya dulu."

"It is just over there," says Omar. He does not point, though. He is looking at the crane again, and his forehead is slightly wrinkled.

"Itu di seberang sana," kata Omar. Namun ia tidak menunjuk. Ia memandang bangau itu lagi, dan keningnya sedikit berkerut.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Ada apa?" tanyanya.

"You wrote something in the corner," he says. "Under the fold. It looks like a phone number, but the last digit is smudged. Is it a three or an eight?"

"Kamu menulis sesuatu di sudutnya," katanya. "Di bawah lipatan. Kelihatannya nomor telepon, tapi angka terakhirnya luntur. Tiga atau delapan?"

Dalila opens her mouth and closes it again. She has not written a number. She is sure of it. She takes the crane from his hand, turns it toward the light, and tilts it very slowly.

Dalila membuka mulut lalu menutupnya lagi. Ia tidak menulis nomor apa pun. Ia yakin itu. Ia mengambil bangau itu dari tangannya, menghadapkannya ke cahaya, dan memiringkannya sangat pelan.

The ink is faint and grey, and it is printed, not written. It is the order number from the seed catalogue, under the photograph of the lavender. The last digit has rubbed away in the fold.

Tintanya samar dan abu-abu, dan itu tercetak, bukan tertulis. Itu nomor pesanan dari katalog benih, di bawah foto lavender. Angka terakhirnya telah terkikis di lipatan.

"It is not a phone number," she says. "It is lavender."

"Itu bukan nomor telepon," katanya. "Itu lavender."

Omar laughs, and the mud on his cheek cracks a little. "Then show me how to stop the mint," he says. "After that, you can tell me the whole number."

Omar tertawa, dan lumpur di pipinya sedikit retak. "Kalau begitu tunjukkan bagaimana menghentikan mint itu," katanya. "Setelah itu, kamu boleh memberitahuku nomor lengkapnya."

Dalila steps out from behind the stall and follows him to the herb beds. Across the path, six small boys argue about who owns the prize.

Dalila melangkah keluar dari balik lapak dan mengikutinya ke bedengan rempah. Di seberang jalan setapak, enam anak laki-laki kecil berdebat tentang siapa pemilik hadiah itu.