The Pizza List on the Roof

At seven o'clock, the roof of the building on Mill Street looks perfect. The sky is orange and the air is warm. A photographer sets up her camera near the water tank. Valerio stands next to her with a clipboard and a big smile.

Pukul tujuh, atap gedung di Jalan Mill tampak sempurna. Langit berwarna oranye dan udaranya hangat. Seorang fotografer memasang kameranya di dekat tangki air. Valerio berdiri di sampingnya dengan papan jepit dan senyum lebar.

"Sunset is at seven forty-eight," the photographer says. "I take one group photo, and I leave. I have another job at eight."

"Matahari terbenam pukul tujuh empat puluh delapan," kata sang fotografer. "Saya ambil satu foto kelompok, lalu saya pergi. Saya ada pekerjaan lain pukul delapan."

"No problem," Valerio says. "Everyone is coming. It is the building's fiftieth birthday."

"Tidak masalah," kata Valerio. "Semua orang akan datang. Ini ulang tahun kelima puluh gedung ini."

His mother manages the building, and she gave him this one job. He must bring all forty residents to the roof for the photo. He has a list, a loud voice and forty-eight minutes. It sounds easy.

Ibunya mengelola gedung itu, dan ia memberi Valerio satu tugas ini. Ia harus membawa keempat puluh penghuni ke atap untuk foto. Ia punya daftar, suara yang keras, dan empat puluh delapan menit. Kedengarannya mudah.

Then the lights go out.

Lalu lampu padam.

It happens all at once. The hum of the lift stops. The lamp over the roof door goes dark, and every window turns black. From somewhere below, a voice shouts, "Not again!"

Semuanya terjadi sekaligus. Dengung lift berhenti. Lampu di atas pintu atap mati, dan setiap jendela menjadi hitam. Dari suatu tempat di bawah, sebuah suara berteriak, "Astaga, lagi!"

Valerio's friend Deniz comes up the stairs with a tripod under his arm. He is breathing hard, and he holds his phone up as a torch in his other hand.

Deniz, teman Valerio, datang menaiki tangga dengan tripod terselip di bawah lengannya. Napasnya terengah-engah, dan di tangannya yang lain ia mengangkat ponselnya sebagai senter.

"The whole street has no power," Deniz says. "The lift is dead. I climbed eight floors in the dark."

"Seluruh jalan mati listrik," kata Deniz. "Liftnya mati. Aku naik delapan lantai dalam gelap."

"That is fine," Valerio says. "I have the list. I will go down and knock on every door."

"Tidak apa-apa," kata Valerio. "Aku punya daftarnya. Aku akan turun dan mengetuk setiap pintu."

"With what light?"

"Pakai lampu apa?"

"Your phone," Valerio says.

"Ponselmu," kata Valerio.

Deniz sighs, but he lifts the light over the clipboard. Valerio looks down at the first page and stops.

Deniz menghela napas, tetapi ia mengangkat cahayanya ke atas papan jepit. Valerio menunduk menatap halaman pertama dan terhenti.

The title does not say Residents. It says Pizza Night Orders.

Judulnya bukan Penghuni. Judulnya Pesanan Malam Pizza.

"Oh no," he says.

"Oh tidak," katanya.

"What?" Deniz leans closer and reads out loud. "Flat three, one large, no olives, extra cheese. Flat nine, three pizzas, one for the cat. Flat fourteen, whatever is cheapest, but not mushrooms."

"Kenapa?" Deniz mencondongkan badan dan membaca keras-keras. "Unit tiga, satu pizza besar, tanpa zaitun, keju ekstra. Unit sembilan, tiga pizza, satu untuk kucing. Unit empat belas, yang paling murah saja, tapi jangan jamur."

"This is the wrong list," Valerio says. "I left the real one on my kitchen table."

"Ini daftar yang salah," kata Valerio. "Daftar yang asli kutinggalkan di meja dapurku."

"Then go and get it!"

"Kalau begitu pergi ambil!"

"My kitchen is on the first floor, and we are on the eighth. The stairs are black. That is twelve minutes down and up, and I still have to find the doors."

"Dapurku di lantai satu, dan kita di lantai delapan. Tangganya gelap. Turun dan naik lagi butuh dua belas menit, dan aku masih harus mencari pintu-pintunya."

The photographer taps her watch. "Forty minutes," she says, without looking up.

Sang fotografer mengetuk jam tangannya. "Empat puluh menit," katanya tanpa mengangkat kepala.

Deniz sits on the tripod case and studies the page. He is the kind of person who reads everything, even the back of a cereal box. Valerio paces. He imagines the photo with only three people in it, and his mother's face next to it.

Deniz duduk di atas tas tripod dan mempelajari halaman itu. Ia tipe orang yang membaca segalanya, bahkan bagian belakang kotak sereal. Valerio mondar-mandir. Ia membayangkan foto yang hanya berisi tiga orang, dan wajah ibunya di sebelahnya.

"Wait," Deniz says slowly. "Who orders pizza on a night like this?"

"Tunggu," kata Deniz pelan. "Siapa yang pesan pizza di malam seperti ini?"

"Everyone," Valerio says. "Pizza night is the best night of the month. Every flat that wants one signs the list."

"Semua orang," kata Valerio. "Malam pizza adalah malam terbaik setiap bulan. Setiap unit yang mau pizza menandatangani daftarnya."

"So these are people who are home tonight."

"Jadi ini orang-orang yang ada di rumah malam ini."

"Yes. Eleven flats are on this list, and they are all waiting for dinner."

"Ya. Ada sebelas unit di daftar ini, dan semuanya sedang menunggu makan malam."

Deniz stands up. "And the delivery man comes at seven thirty, right?"

Deniz berdiri. "Dan tukang antarnya datang pukul tujuh tiga puluh, kan?"

"He comes at seven thirty." Valerio stares at him. "Deniz, what are you thinking?"

"Dia datang pukul tujuh tiga puluh." Valerio menatapnya. "Deniz, kamu sedang memikirkan apa?"

"I am thinking that nobody leaves their flat in the dark, except for one reason."

"Aku sedang berpikir bahwa tidak ada yang keluar dari unitnya dalam gelap, kecuali karena satu alasan."

A slow smile grows on Valerio's face. He takes out his own phone and finds the number of the pizza shop. It rings four times.

Senyum perlahan merekah di wajah Valerio. Ia mengeluarkan ponselnya sendiri dan mencari nomor toko pizza itu. Telepon berdering empat kali.

"Hello, Corner Slice," a tired voice says. "We have a power cut, but our ovens use gas. We are still working."

"Halo, Corner Slice," kata sebuah suara yang lelah. "Kami sedang mati listrik, tapi oven kami pakai gas. Kami masih buka."

"This is Valerio from Mill Street," Valerio says. "Please bring everything to the roof. All eleven orders. Not to the doors. The roof."

"Ini Valerio dari Jalan Mill," kata Valerio. "Tolong bawa semuanya ke atap. Kesebelas pesanan. Bukan ke pintu-pintunya. Ke atap."

"The roof? The lift is dead."

"Atap? Liftnya kan mati."

"Yes, I know. Please tell the driver to knock on the front door and shout up the stairs. Tell him the whole building is waiting."

"Ya, saya tahu. Tolong suruh pengantarnya mengetuk pintu depan dan berteriak ke arah tangga. Bilang saja seluruh penghuni gedung sedang menunggu."

There is a long silence on the line. Then the voice laughs. "My driver will love this. He is not very fond of stairs."

Ada keheningan panjang di telepon. Lalu suara itu tertawa. "Pengantar kami pasti suka ini. Dia tidak terlalu suka tangga."

Valerio hangs up. Deniz is already moving across the roof. He picks up an orange traffic cone from the corner. He holds the narrow end to his mouth.

Valerio menutup telepon. Deniz sudah bergerak melintasi atap. Ia mengambil sebuah kerucut lalu lintas oranye dari sudut. Ia menempelkan ujungnya yang sempit ke mulutnya.

"What are you doing?" Valerio asks.

"Kamu sedang apa?" tanya Valerio.

"I am making a megaphone," Deniz says. "Watch."

"Aku membuat megafon," kata Deniz. "Lihat saja."

He walks to the open stairwell door, leans over the dark shaft and shouts into the cone. "Attention, residents of Mill Street! Pizza night is on the roof! Bring your chairs, your forks and your friends!"

Ia berjalan ke pintu tangga yang terbuka, membungkuk di atas lubang tangga yang gelap, dan berteriak ke dalam kerucut. "Perhatian, para penghuni Jalan Mill! Malam pizza diadakan di atap! Bawa kursi, garpu, dan teman-teman kalian!"

The sound goes down eight floors like a stone in a well. For a moment, nothing answers. Then a door opens somewhere far below. A second door opens, and a third.

Suaranya jatuh delapan lantai seperti batu ke dalam sumur. Untuk sesaat tak ada jawaban. Lalu sebuah pintu terbuka di suatu tempat jauh di bawah. Pintu kedua terbuka, lalu yang ketiga.

"Pizza?" a woman shouts from the fifth floor.

"Pizza?" seorang wanita berteriak dari lantai lima.

"On the roof!" Deniz shouts back. "Hurry, because it is getting cold!"

"Di atap!" Deniz balas berteriak. "Cepat, soalnya sudah mulai dingin!"

"It is not even here yet," Valerio whispers.

"Pizzanya bahkan belum sampai," bisik Valerio.

"They do not need to know that," Deniz says.

"Mereka tidak perlu tahu itu," kata Deniz.

Soon they hear feet on the stairs. First there are only a few, then there are many, and all of them are climbing. Phone lights bounce on the walls like small, nervous stars. A boy appears at the roof door carrying a cushion. Behind him come two sisters in matching pyjamas, and a man with a camping lamp.

Tak lama mereka mendengar langkah kaki di tangga. Mula-mula hanya beberapa, lalu banyak, dan semuanya naik. Cahaya ponsel memantul di dinding seperti bintang-bintang kecil yang gelisah. Seorang anak laki-laki muncul di pintu atap sambil membawa bantal. Di belakangnya datang dua saudara perempuan dengan piama kembar, dan seorang pria dengan lampu kemah.

"Where is the pizza?" the man asks.

"Mana pizzanya?" tanya pria itu.

"It is coming," Valerio says. "While we wait, would you stand over there? By the water tank, please. We are taking a photo of the whole building."

"Sebentar lagi datang," kata Valerio. "Sambil menunggu, maukah Anda berdiri di sana? Di dekat tangki air, tolong. Kami akan memotret seluruh penghuni gedung."

The man looks at the photographer, then at the sunset, then at the list. He shrugs. "All right. But I am staying for the pizza."

Pria itu memandang sang fotografer, lalu matahari terbenam, lalu daftar itu. Ia mengangkat bahu. "Baiklah. Tapi saya tetap tinggal untuk pizzanya."

"Everyone is," Valerio says.

"Semua orang begitu," kata Valerio.

At seven forty, the front door of the building bangs. A loud, angry voice rises through the stairwell. It is the driver, and he is saying a number of unfriendly things about the lift. Deniz grins and counts on his fingers.

Pukul tujuh empat puluh, pintu depan gedung berdebam. Sebuah suara yang keras dan marah naik melalui lubang tangga. Itu si pengantar, dan ia sedang mengucapkan banyak hal yang tidak ramah tentang lift. Deniz menyeringai dan menghitung dengan jarinya.

"Eleven flats, but I count more people than that," he says. "Look."

"Sebelas unit, tapi kuhitung orangnya lebih banyak dari itu," katanya. "Lihat."

It is true. The roof is filling quickly. Some residents bring stools, and some bring blankets. One woman carries a plate of olives, and she has no idea why she is there. Even the quiet teacher from the fourth floor is here, holding a candle in a jar.

Itu benar. Atap dengan cepat terisi. Sebagian penghuni membawa bangku, sebagian membawa selimut. Seorang wanita membawa sepiring zaitun, dan ia sama sekali tidak tahu kenapa ia ada di sana. Bahkan guru pendiam dari lantai empat pun ada di sini, memegang lilin di dalam toples.

Valerio walks between them and tries to count heads. He loses count at thirty-one. It is almost seven forty-five, and the sky is turning from orange to deep pink.

Valerio berjalan di antara mereka dan mencoba menghitung kepala. Ia kehilangan hitungan di angka tiga puluh satu. Hampir pukul tujuh empat puluh lima, dan langit berubah dari oranye menjadi merah muda tua.

The driver arrives at last, sweating and furious, with a tall tower of boxes in his arms. The crowd cheers as if he has won a race. He looks around the roof, confused. Then he sits on a bucket and fans himself with a menu.

Pengantar itu akhirnya tiba, berkeringat dan murka, dengan tumpukan tinggi kotak di tangannya. Kerumunan bersorak seolah-olah ia baru memenangkan perlombaan. Ia memandang berkeliling atap itu, bingung. Lalu ia duduk di sebuah ember dan mengipasi dirinya dengan menu.

"Next time," he says, "somebody tell me there are eight floors."

"Lain kali," katanya, "tolong ada yang bilang bahwa ada delapan lantai."

"Next time," Valerio says, "the right list will be on the clipboard."

"Lain kali," kata Valerio, "daftar yang benar akan ada di papan jepit."

The photographer claps her hands. "Everybody, please! Stand close, hold your boxes, and look at me. The light is going."

Sang fotografer bertepuk tangan. "Semuanya, tolong! Berdiri rapat, pegang kotak kalian, dan lihat ke arah saya. Cahayanya hampir habis."

Forty people squeeze into one row. Children sit on shoulders, and the cat from flat nine peeks out of a coat. Deniz stands at the end, still holding the orange cone. Valerio stands in the middle with the wrong list on his chest.

Empat puluh orang berdesakan dalam satu barisan. Anak-anak duduk di atas pundak, dan kucing dari unit sembilan mengintip dari balik sebuah mantel. Deniz berdiri di ujung, masih memegang kerucut oranye itu. Valerio berdiri di tengah dengan daftar yang salah di dadanya.

"Ready?" the photographer asks. She lifts the camera. "One, two, three."

"Siap?" tanya sang fotografer. Ia mengangkat kameranya. "Satu, dua, tiga."

"Pizza!" forty voices shout.

"Pizza!" teriak empat puluh suara.

Click.

Klik.