The Slow Stopwatch at the Taxi Rank

Deniz hates the stopwatch. It hangs on a string above the dashboard of his cousin's taxi, and it is always wrong.

Deniz benci pada stopwatch itu. Benda itu tergantung pada seutas tali di atas dasbor taksi sepupunya, dan selalu salah.

Today is the first day of the summer holiday. Deniz sits in the front seat with a bottle of juice. Emre drives the green taxi at the Market Square rank. He lets Deniz come along when there are no passengers. The rank is boring, and two people can be bored together.

Hari ini hari pertama liburan musim panas. Deniz duduk di kursi depan dengan sebotol jus. Emre mengemudikan taksi hijau di pangkalan Alun-Alun Pasar. Ia membiarkan Deniz ikut kalau tidak ada penumpang. Pangkalan itu membosankan, dan dua orang bisa bosan bersama-sama.

"It is not wrong," Emre says for the hundredth time. "It is slow. That is different."

"Ini tidak salah," kata Emre untuk keseratus kalinya. "Ini lambat. Itu berbeda."

"Slow is wrong," says Deniz.

"Lambat itu salah," kata Deniz.

"Slow is a style." Emre taps the glass. "A clockmaker gave me this stopwatch. She said it counts time the way a cat walks across a room. It gets there, but not in a hurry."

"Lambat itu gaya." Emre mengetuk kacanya. "Seorang pembuat jam memberiku stopwatch ini. Katanya benda ini menghitung waktu seperti kucing berjalan melintasi ruangan. Sampai juga, tapi tidak terburu-buru."

The stopwatch is round and silver, with a crack across the face. Deniz has measured it many times. For every five minutes in the real world, it counts only four. Emre has learned to add a little in his head. Deniz thinks this is a silly way to live.

Stopwatch itu bundar dan berwarna perak, dengan retakan melintang di mukanya. Deniz sudah sering mengukurnya. Untuk setiap lima menit di dunia nyata, stopwatch itu hanya menghitung empat. Emre sudah terbiasa menambahkan sedikit dalam kepalanya. Deniz menganggap itu cara hidup yang konyol.

It is eleven thirty-eight when the girl comes running across the square. She has a bag on her back and dust on her sleeves. She pulls open the back door and almost falls onto the seat.

Saat itu pukul sebelas tiga puluh delapan ketika seorang gadis berlari melintasi alun-alun. Ia menggendong tas di punggung dan lengan bajunya berdebu. Ia membuka pintu belakang dan nyaris jatuh ke atas jok.

"The clock tower," she gasps. "Please. As fast as you can."

"Menara jam," katanya terengah-engah. "Tolong. Secepat mungkin."

"Which clock tower?" Emre asks. "We have three."

"Menara jam yang mana?" tanya Emre. "Kami punya tiga."

"The tall one on Hare Street. The noon bell." She holds up a brass key as long as a spoon. "I work for the clockmaker. The old key broke this morning. If this one does not reach the tower before twelve, the bell will not ring."

"Yang tinggi di Jalan Hare. Lonceng tengah hari." Ia mengangkat sebuah kunci kuningan sepanjang sendok. "Aku bekerja untuk si pembuat jam. Kunci yang lama patah pagi ini. Kalau kunci ini tidak sampai ke menara sebelum pukul dua belas, lonceng itu tidak akan berbunyi."

Deniz turns round. "So? A bell is only a bell."

Deniz menoleh ke belakang. "Terus kenapa? Lonceng cuma lonceng."

The girl looks at him as if he has said something terrible. "On Hare Street, it is not only a bell. The stone hares in the square sleep until the noon bell rings. If it stays silent, they wake up and run all over the town. Last time it happened, one of them ate a flower stall."

Gadis itu menatapnya seolah ia mengatakan sesuatu yang mengerikan. "Di Jalan Hare, itu bukan cuma lonceng. Kelinci-kelinci batu di alun-alun tidur sampai lonceng tengah hari berbunyi. Kalau lonceng itu diam, mereka bangun dan berlarian ke seluruh kota. Waktu itu terjadi terakhir kali, salah satunya memakan sebuah kios bunga."

Emre raises an eyebrow. In this town, everyone knows about the hares, and nobody enjoys talking about them.

Emre mengangkat sebelah alis. Di kota ini, semua orang tahu soal kelinci-kelinci itu, dan tidak ada yang senang membicarakannya.

"Seat belt," he says. He presses the stopwatch button with his thumb. "We have twenty-two minutes. Easy."

"Sabuk pengaman," katanya. Ia menekan tombol stopwatch dengan ibu jarinya. "Kita punya dua puluh dua menit. Gampang."

The taxi pulls out of the rank.

Taksi itu keluar dari pangkalan.

Market day is a bad day for driving. The main road is full of delivery vans and cyclists. One very large goat walks in the middle of the street as if it owns the town. Emre drives carefully round the goat. At the first crossroads, the traffic lights freeze and stay that way for ever.

Hari pasar adalah hari yang buruk untuk menyetir. Jalan utama penuh dengan mobil pengantar barang dan pesepeda. Seekor kambing yang sangat besar berjalan di tengah jalan seakan-akan kota ini miliknya. Emre menyetir hati-hati mengitari kambing itu. Di persimpangan pertama, lampu lalu lintas macet dan tetap begitu untuk selama-lamanya.

Deniz watches the stopwatch. The second hand moves in a lazy circle. Seven minutes. Eight minutes. The girl in the back seat chews her thumb.

Deniz memperhatikan stopwatch. Jarum detiknya bergerak dalam lingkaran yang malas. Tujuh menit. Delapan menit. Gadis di kursi belakang menggigit ibu jarinya.

"We are doing well," Emre says. "Stopwatch says nine minutes, so we have thirteen left."

"Kita berjalan baik," kata Emre. "Stopwatch bilang sembilan menit, jadi sisanya tiga belas."

Deniz looks out of the window. Over the roofs, he can see the face of the town hall clock. It shows eleven forty-nine.

Deniz melihat ke luar jendela. Di atas atap-atap, ia bisa melihat muka jam balai kota. Jam itu menunjukkan pukul sebelas empat puluh sembilan.

He does the sum in his head, and his stomach drops.

Ia menghitungnya dalam kepala, dan perutnya terasa jatuh.

"Emre. The stopwatch is slow, remember? You started it at eleven thirty-eight. The town clock says eleven forty-nine. That is eleven real minutes, not nine."

"Emre. Stopwatch-nya lambat, ingat? Kamu menyalakannya pukul sebelas tiga puluh delapan. Jam kota bilang sebelas empat puluh sembilan. Itu sebelas menit sungguhan, bukan sembilan."

"I add a little in my head," Emre says.

"Aku menambahkan sedikit dalam kepalaku," kata Emre.

"Do you? Because you just said thirteen left. It is eleven." Deniz points at the girl. "Eleven minutes, and the road ahead is full of vans."

"Masa? Soalnya tadi kamu bilang sisa tiga belas. Padahal sebelas." Deniz menunjuk gadis itu. "Sebelas menit, dan jalan di depan penuh mobil pengantar."

Emre goes quiet. A van in front of them blows its horn for no reason. The girl closes her eyes.

Emre terdiam. Sebuah van di depan mereka membunyikan klakson tanpa alasan. Gadis itu memejamkan mata.

"Can we go another way?" she asks.

"Bisa lewat jalan lain?" tanyanya.

"There is no other way," Emre says. "The old bridge is closed. The ring road takes twenty minutes."

"Tidak ada jalan lain," kata Emre. "Jembatan tua ditutup. Jalan lingkar butuh dua puluh menit."

Deniz stares at the roofs. He knows this part of town better than anyone in the car. He has walked it every morning for four years, with a heavy school bag. Behind the tower, there is a long wall. Behind the wall is a football pitch. And at the other end of the pitch is a gate that nobody locks on Saturdays.

Deniz menatap atap-atap itu. Ia mengenal bagian kota ini lebih baik daripada siapa pun di dalam mobil. Ia berjalan di situ setiap pagi selama empat tahun, dengan tas sekolah yang berat. Di belakang menara ada tembok panjang. Di balik tembok itu ada lapangan sepak bola. Dan di ujung lain lapangan itu ada sebuah gerbang yang tidak pernah dikunci pada hari Sabtu.

"My school," he says suddenly. "It is behind the tower. The back gate opens onto Hare Street."

"Sekolahku," katanya tiba-tiba. "Letaknya di belakang menara. Gerbang belakangnya terbuka ke Jalan Hare."

"A taxi cannot drive through a school," Emre says.

"Taksi tidak bisa lewat sekolah," kata Emre.

"It is a football pitch. There is a service road next to it. I have seen a delivery van on it." Deniz twists in his seat. "It is not a road for cars, but it is a road."

"Itu lapangan sepak bola. Ada jalan layanan di sebelahnya. Aku pernah melihat mobil pengantar lewat di situ." Deniz memutar badan di kursinya. "Bukan jalan untuk mobil, tapi tetap jalan."

"The gate will be closed."

"Gerbangnya pasti dikunci."

"The side gate has a code. It is 1-9-5-0. Everyone knows it. The football team uses it."

"Gerbang samping ada kodenya. 1-9-5-0. Semua orang tahu. Tim sepak bola memakainya."

Emre looks at the clock on the dashboard. He looks at the girl in his mirror. She nods hard, with wet eyes.

Emre melihat jam di dasbor. Ia menatap si gadis di kaca spion. Gadis itu mengangguk keras, dengan mata basah.

"If a teacher shouts at us," he says, "I will say that you told me to."

"Kalau ada guru yang membentak kita," katanya, "aku akan bilang kamu yang menyuruhku."

"That is fine," says Deniz.

"Tidak apa-apa," kata Deniz.

Emre turns the wheel hard and goes down a narrow side street. It is the kind of street that has bins on both sides and a sleeping cat. The taxi scrapes past a wall with a hiss of paint. Deniz holds the door handle with both hands.

Emre membanting setir dan masuk ke sebuah jalan kecil yang sempit. Jalan semacam itu, dengan tempat sampah di kedua sisi dan seekor kucing yang sedang tidur. Taksi itu menggesek sebuah tembok dengan desis cat. Deniz memegang gagang pintu dengan kedua tangan.

The school gate appears at the end, tall and grey. Deniz jumps out before the taxi has fully stopped and presses the numbers. The lock clicks. He pulls the gate wide open, and the taxi rolls through.

Gerbang sekolah muncul di ujung jalan, tinggi dan kelabu. Deniz melompat keluar sebelum taksi benar-benar berhenti dan menekan angka-angkanya. Kunci berbunyi klik. Ia menarik gerbang itu terbuka lebar, dan taksi bergulir masuk.

The service road is narrow, with grass in the middle and a sign that says NO VEHICLES. Emre drives past the sign very slowly, as if it cannot see him. On the left, the football pitch shines in the sun. On the right, a row of bicycles leans on a fence.

Jalan layanan itu sempit, dengan rumput di tengahnya dan papan bertuliskan DILARANG MASUK KENDARAAN. Emre melewati papan itu sangat pelan, seakan-akan papan itu tidak bisa melihatnya. Di sebelah kiri, lapangan sepak bola berkilau diterpa matahari. Di sebelah kanan, deretan sepeda bersandar pada pagar.

"Eleven fifty-six," Deniz reads from his phone. "Four minutes."

"Sebelas lima puluh enam," Deniz membaca dari ponselnya. "Empat menit."

At the end of the pitch the road bends round a wall. Then the tower rises above them. It is old and brown, with a white clock face and a small door at the base. Emre brakes hard on the loose stones. The girl is out of the car before the engine stops.

Di ujung lapangan jalan itu membelok mengitari sebuah tembok. Lalu menara menjulang di atas mereka. Menara itu tua dan cokelat, dengan muka jam putih dan pintu kecil di dasarnya. Emre mengerem keras di atas kerikil lepas. Gadis itu sudah keluar dari mobil sebelum mesinnya mati.

"Thank you!" she shouts. She runs up the back steps two at a time, with the brass key held high.

"Terima kasih!" teriaknya. Ia berlari menaiki tangga belakang dua anak tangga sekaligus, dengan kunci kuningan terangkat tinggi.

Deniz and Emre stand next to the taxi. In the square at the front of the tower, the stone hares sit on their benches. Their ears are up and their eyes are closed. Nothing moves. Somewhere inside the tower, a lock turns with a heavy clunk.

Deniz dan Emre berdiri di samping taksi. Di alun-alun di depan menara, kelinci-kelinci batu duduk di bangku-bangkunya. Telinga mereka tegak dan mata mereka terpejam. Tidak ada yang bergerak. Di suatu tempat di dalam menara, sebuah kunci berputar dengan bunyi gedebuk berat.

Emre looks at the silver stopwatch on its string. Its hands show sixteen minutes, and the glass is still cracked.

Emre memandang stopwatch perak pada talinya. Jarumnya menunjukkan enam belas menit, dan kacanya masih retak.

"I will never trust that thing again," he says.

"Aku tidak akan pernah percaya pada benda itu lagi," katanya.

"You said that last year," Deniz says.

"Kamu bilang begitu tahun lalu," kata Deniz.

The big clock on the tower face clicks on to twelve. For one long second everything is still. Then, above their heads, the great bronze bell swings once.

Jam besar di muka menara berdetak ke angka dua belas. Selama satu detik yang panjang, semuanya diam. Lalu, di atas kepala mereka, lonceng perunggu besar itu berayun sekali.

Dong.

Dong.