The Megaphone and the Ducks

At five in the morning, the Northgate bus depot is the loudest quiet place in the city. Engines cough awake one by one. Drivers shout across the yard. Somewhere a metal door bangs, and somebody laughs at nothing.

Pukul lima pagi, depo bus Northgate adalah tempat sunyi paling bising di kota. Mesin-mesin terbatuk bangun satu per satu. Para sopir berteriak melintasi halaman. Di suatu tempat sebuah pintu logam menutup dengan keras, dan seseorang tertawa tanpa sebab.

Dax stands in the middle of it all, holding a megaphone he hates.

Dax berdiri di tengah semua itu, memegang megafon yang ia benci.

He is twenty, and this is his fourth week as the depot's morning caller. His job is simple. Thirty-two buses leave the yard between five and six. Each driver needs to hear which bay to use. The old speaker system broke in the spring. Nobody has fixed it, so Dax has the megaphone.

Usianya dua puluh tahun, dan ini minggu keempatnya sebagai pemanggil pagi di depo itu. Tugasnya sederhana. Tiga puluh dua bus keluar dari halaman antara pukul lima dan enam. Setiap sopir perlu mendengar bilik mana yang harus dipakai. Sistem pengeras suara lama rusak pada musim semi. Tak ada yang memperbaikinya, jadi Dax memegang megafon.

"Bay six, Route Twelve!" he shouts. His voice cracks on the word "twelve." A driver in the nearest bus waves lazily, as if Dax were a fly.

"Bilik enam, Rute Dua Belas!" teriaknya. Suaranya pecah pada kata "dua belas." Seorang sopir di bus terdekat melambai malas, seolah Dax seekor lalat.

Dax lowers the megaphone and sighs. He has never been a loud person. At school, he sat at the back of every class and answered questions in a whisper. At home, his sister says he talks like someone reading a very sad letter. But the depot does not care about that. The depot wants bay numbers, and it wants them loudly.

Dax menurunkan megafon dan menghela napas. Ia tidak pernah menjadi orang yang bersuara keras. Di sekolah, ia duduk di belakang setiap kelas dan menjawab pertanyaan dengan berbisik. Di rumah, kakak perempuannya bilang ia bicara seperti orang membaca surat yang sangat sedih. Tetapi depo tidak peduli soal itu. Depo menginginkan nomor bilik, dan menginginkannya dengan keras.

"You're doing fine," says a voice behind him.

"Kamu baik-baik saja," kata sebuah suara di belakangnya.

It is Malika, who drives the first bus of the day, Route One. She has worked at the depot for eleven years. She is the only person who speaks to Dax before six. She leans against her bus with a metal cup of coffee and a half smile.

Itu Malika, yang mengemudikan bus pertama hari itu, Rute Satu. Ia sudah bekerja di depo selama sebelas tahun. Ia satu-satunya orang yang berbicara kepada Dax sebelum pukul enam. Ia bersandar pada busnya dengan cangkir kopi logam dan setengah senyum.

"I'm not," Dax says. "They can't hear me. Yesterday, two buses went to the wrong bay."

"Tidak," kata Dax. "Mereka tidak bisa mendengarku. Kemarin, dua bus pergi ke bilik yang salah."

"They heard you. They were just pretending they didn't." Malika drinks her coffee. "Drivers are like cats. They only come when they want to."

"Mereka mendengarmu. Mereka cuma pura-pura tidak mendengar." Malika menyesap kopinya. "Sopir itu seperti kucing. Mereka hanya datang kalau mereka mau."

"That doesn't help."

"Itu tidak membantu."

"It's not supposed to help. It's supposed to make you feel better." She nods at the megaphone. "Stop shouting at it. It does half the job already. Talk like you're telling a friend something important."

"Memang tidak dimaksudkan membantu. Dimaksudkan supaya kamu merasa lebih baik." Ia mengangguk ke arah megafon. "Berhenti meneriakinya. Ia sudah mengerjakan separuh tugasnya. Bicaralah seperti kamu memberi tahu teman sesuatu yang penting."

Dax tries. He raises the megaphone and takes a breath. "Bay eight, Route Seven," he says, in the voice he uses for his sister. Two drivers look up at once. One even gives him a thumbs-up.

Dax mencoba. Ia mengangkat megafon dan menarik napas. "Bilik delapan, Rute Tujuh," katanya, dengan suara yang ia pakai untuk kakaknya. Dua sopir langsung menengadah. Satu bahkan mengacungkan jempol.

"See?" says Malika.

"Lihat?" kata Malika.

"Wow," Dax says. He feels about two centimetres taller.

"Wow," kata Dax. Ia merasa kira-kira dua sentimeter lebih tinggi.

For the next twenty minutes, the routine works like a small machine. Dax calls the bays. The buses leave, one after another, with their lights glowing yellow in the grey morning. The air smells of diesel and warm metal. Dax starts to think that maybe, just maybe, he is good at this.

Selama dua puluh menit berikutnya, rutinitas itu bekerja seperti mesin kecil. Dax memanggil bilik-bilik. Bus-bus berangkat, satu demi satu, dengan lampu menyala kuning di pagi yang kelabu. Udara berbau solar dan logam hangat. Dax mulai berpikir bahwa mungkin, hanya mungkin, ia pandai dalam hal ini.

Then something strange happens at the north gate.

Lalu sesuatu yang aneh terjadi di gerbang utara.

At first, he thinks it is a trick of the light. A small brown shape waddles through the gap under the fence. Then comes another, and another. Dax counts seven in a line, each smaller than the one before. They march across the yard with great confidence, as if they own the place.

Awalnya, ia mengira itu tipuan cahaya. Sebuah bentuk cokelat kecil berjalan terhuyung melewati celah di bawah pagar. Lalu datang satu lagi, dan satu lagi. Dax menghitung tujuh dalam satu barisan, masing-masing lebih kecil dari yang sebelumnya. Mereka berbaris melintasi halaman dengan percaya diri, seolah-olah tempat itu milik mereka.

They are ducks. A mother duck leads six ducklings straight toward Bay Four. A large green bus is just starting to reverse there.

Itu bebek. Seekor induk bebek memimpin enam anak bebek langsung menuju Bilik Empat. Sebuah bus hijau besar baru mulai mundur di sana.

"Malika!" Dax cries. "Ducks!"

"Malika!" seru Dax. "Bebek!"

"I see them."

"Aku melihatnya."

"The bus doesn't see them!"

"Bus itu tidak melihatnya!"

Malika drops her cup and starts to run. Dax runs too, with the megaphone bumping against his leg. The driver of the green bus cannot see anything behind him. The bus rolls back slowly, steadily, and the ducks walk calmly beneath its shadow.

Malika menjatuhkan cangkirnya dan mulai berlari. Dax juga berlari, dengan megafon membentur kakinya. Sopir bus hijau itu tidak bisa melihat apa pun di belakangnya. Bus itu bergulir mundur perlahan, mantap, dan bebek-bebek itu berjalan tenang di bawah bayangannya.

Dax does the only thing he can think of. He lifts the megaphone and shouts, "STOP!" so loudly that every driver in the yard turns around. The green bus freezes with a squeal of brakes. Fifty metres away, a mechanic drops his spanner.

Dax melakukan satu-satunya hal yang terpikir olehnya. Ia mengangkat megafon dan berteriak, "BERHENTI!" begitu keras sampai setiap sopir di halaman berbalik. Bus hijau itu membeku dengan decit rem. Lima puluh meter jauhnya, seorang montir menjatuhkan kunci pasnya.

For a long second, nobody moves. The ducks keep walking. They reach the middle of the bay and sit down together on the warm concrete. They look around as if they are waiting for a ticket.

Selama satu detik yang panjang, tak ada yang bergerak. Bebek-bebek itu terus berjalan. Mereka sampai di tengah bilik dan duduk bersama-sama di atas beton yang hangat. Mereka memandang berkeliling seolah-olah sedang menunggu tiket.

"Well," Malika says, slightly out of breath. "That worked."

"Nah," kata Malika, sedikit terengah. "Berhasil."

"It was too loud," Dax says. His heart is pounding. "I think I scared them."

"Terlalu keras," kata Dax. Jantungnya berdebar kencang. "Kurasa aku menakuti mereka."

"You scared the whole depot. That's different." She grins. "But look at the mother."

"Kamu menakuti seluruh depo. Itu berbeda." Ia nyengir. "Tapi lihat induknya."

The mother duck is looking straight at him. She does not seem scared. She seems annoyed, in the way of someone whose long walk has been rudely interrupted. Behind her, the ducklings are beginning to peep, and the sound grows until it fills the bay.

Induk bebek itu menatap langsung kepadanya. Ia tidak tampak takut. Ia tampak kesal, seperti orang yang perjalanan panjangnya diganggu dengan kasar. Di belakangnya, anak-anak bebek mulai mencicit, dan suaranya makin besar sampai memenuhi bilik.

Malika crouches down. "We can't pick them up. She'll panic, and the babies will scatter." She looks at the buses, then at Dax. "We need to move them out of the yard. Slowly. Calmly."

Malika berjongkok. "Kita tidak bisa mengangkat mereka. Induknya akan panik, dan anak-anaknya akan berpencar." Ia memandang bus-bus, lalu Dax. "Kita harus memindahkan mereka keluar dari halaman. Pelan-pelan. Dengan tenang."

"How?"

"Bagaimana?"

"You tell me. You're the caller."

"Kamu yang tahu. Kamu kan pemanggilnya."

Dax stares at her. Then he looks at the megaphone, which suddenly seems very heavy. For once, he knows what Malika means. He does not need to be loud. He needs to be gentle.

Dax menatapnya. Lalu ia memandang megafon, yang tiba-tiba terasa sangat berat. Untuk sekali ini, ia tahu maksud Malika. Ia tidak perlu keras. Ia perlu lembut.

He crouches down, raises the megaphone only a little, and speaks in his sister's-letter voice. "Hello," he says. "This way, please. Mind the step."

Ia berjongkok, mengangkat megafon hanya sedikit, dan berbicara dengan suara surat kakaknya. "Halo," katanya. "Lewat sini, ya. Hati-hati langkahnya."

The mother duck turns her head. Dax slowly walks backward toward the north gate, saying the same quiet words, and the ducks follow. Malika holds up one hand to stop the traffic. Thirty drivers sit in their seats and watch in total silence. Even the engines seem to hush.

Induk bebek menoleh. Dax berjalan mundur perlahan menuju gerbang utara, mengucapkan kata-kata pelan yang sama, dan bebek-bebek itu mengikuti. Malika mengangkat satu tangan untuk menghentikan lalu lintas. Tiga puluh sopir duduk di kursi mereka dan menonton dalam keheningan total. Bahkan mesin-mesin seolah menjadi hening.

It takes four minutes. At the gate, the mother duck squeezes through the gap in the fence. Her six ducklings follow. On the other side, a canal glitters in the first pale light. One by one they slide into the water and drift away.

Butuh empat menit. Di gerbang, induk bebek menyelinap melewati celah di pagar. Keenam anaknya menyusul. Di sisi lain, sebuah kanal berkilau dalam cahaya pucat pertama. Satu per satu mereka meluncur ke air dan hanyut menjauh.

Behind Dax, the depot erupts. People clap. A driver blows his horn. Someone whistles through two fingers, and the green bus flashes its headlights three times.

Di belakang Dax, depo meledak. Orang-orang bertepuk tangan. Seorang sopir membunyikan klakson. Seseorang bersiul dengan dua jari, dan bus hijau itu mengedipkan lampu depannya tiga kali.

"Not bad," Malika says, leaning against the fence. "For a boy who whispers."

"Lumayan," kata Malika, bersandar di pagar. "Untuk anak yang berbisik."

Dax laughs, the first proper laugh he has had at work. His hands are still shaking, but he does not mind. He lifts the megaphone one more time and looks at the empty bay.

Dax tertawa, tawa sungguhan pertamanya di tempat kerja. Tangannya masih gemetar, tetapi ia tidak peduli. Ia mengangkat megafon sekali lagi dan memandang bilik yang kosong.

"Next time," he says, "I'm putting them on the schedule. Six fifteen, Bay Four, ducks."

"Lain kali," katanya, "aku akan memasukkan mereka ke jadwal. Enam lima belas, Bilik Empat, bebek."

Malika picks up her cold coffee and shakes her head. "Fine," she says. "But they sit at the back. They are far too noisy."

Malika mengambil kopinya yang dingin dan menggelengkan kepala. "Baiklah," katanya. "Tapi mereka duduk di belakang. Mereka terlalu berisik."