The Tooth in the Fare Tin

The ferry across the Long River has no engine. It is a flat wooden boat, wide enough for ten people and one cart. A thick rope runs from one bank to the other. To cross, you take the rope in your hands and pull. Rumi does this forty times a day, and her arms are as hard as fence posts.

Kapal feri di Sungai Panjang tidak punya mesin. Itu perahu kayu datar, cukup lebar untuk sepuluh orang dan satu gerobak. Seutas tali tebal terentang dari satu tepi ke tepi lainnya. Untuk menyeberang, kamu memegang tali itu dan menariknya. Rumi melakukannya empat puluh kali sehari, dan lengannya sekeras tiang pagar.

She is twenty-three, and this is her second summer on the ferry. She likes the work. The river is slow and brown, and the boat moves with a soft creak, hand over hand. The only part she dislikes is the fare tin. It is an old biscuit tin that sits by the rope. It is always nearly empty.

Ia berusia dua puluh tiga tahun, dan ini musim panas keduanya di feri. Ia menyukai pekerjaannya. Sungainya lambat dan cokelat, dan perahu bergerak dengan derit lembut, tangan demi tangan. Satu-satunya bagian yang tidak ia sukai adalah kaleng ongkos. Itu kaleng biskuit tua yang terletak di dekat tali. Kaleng itu hampir selalu kosong.

The fare is two small coins. Rumi does not ask for it. People drop the coins in the tin when they board, and most of them do. A few forget. A few have no change. She never chases anyone. But she counts the tin each night, and she knows when something is wrong.

Ongkosnya dua koin kecil. Rumi tidak memintanya. Orang-orang menjatuhkan koin ke kaleng saat naik, dan kebanyakan melakukannya. Beberapa lupa. Beberapa tidak punya uang receh. Ia tidak pernah mengejar siapa pun. Tetapi ia menghitung isi kaleng setiap malam, dan ia tahu kalau ada yang tidak beres.

On this particular morning, she opens the lid and finds something unusual. Between three coins lies a small white envelope. It is thin, a little crumpled, and sealed with a piece of tape. On the front, in neat pencil, are two words: FOR FARE.

Pagi ini, ia membuka tutupnya dan menemukan sesuatu yang tidak biasa. Di antara tiga koin terselip sebuah amplop putih kecil. Amplopnya tipis, sedikit kusut, dan disegel dengan sepotong selotip. Di bagian depan, dengan pensil yang rapi, tertulis dua kata: UNTUK ONGKOS.

"That's new," Rumi says to nobody.

"Ini baru," kata Rumi kepada tak seorang pun.

She opens it carefully. Inside, wrapped in a tissue, is a tiny tooth. It is a baby tooth, small and white, with a narrow root. She holds it in her palm and looks at it for a long time. Then she puts it back in the tissue and sits down on the bench to think.

Ia membukanya dengan hati-hati. Di dalamnya, terbungkus tisu, ada sebutir gigi mungil. Gigi susu, kecil dan putih, dengan akar yang sempit. Ia memegangnya di telapak tangan dan memandanginya lama. Lalu ia memasukkannya kembali ke tisu dan duduk di bangku untuk berpikir.

"All right," she says. "Who pays a ferry with a tooth?"

"Baiklah," katanya. "Siapa yang membayar feri dengan gigi?"

It is a question she cannot ignore. She loves a small mystery almost as much as the river. This is the best one she has had all summer. She decides to solve it before the last crossing of the day. She will write down everything she learns, on the back of her ticket book.

Itu pertanyaan yang tak bisa ia abaikan. Ia menyukai misteri kecil hampir sama seperti ia menyukai sungai. Ini yang terbaik yang ia dapatkan sepanjang musim panas. Ia memutuskan memecahkannya sebelum penyeberangan terakhir hari itu. Ia akan mencatat semua yang ia pelajari di bagian belakang buku karcisnya.

The first clue is the envelope itself. Rumi studies the writing. The pencil is soft and careful. It is the writing of someone who wants to be understood. It is not a child's handwriting, and it is not a doctor's. The tape is new, but the paper is soft and old. It spent years in a drawer. Somebody wrote this a long time ago, then put it away, and only recently took it out again.

Petunjuk pertama adalah amplopnya sendiri. Rumi mempelajari tulisannya. Pensilnya lembut dan hati-hati. Itu tulisan orang yang ingin dimengerti. Bukan tulisan anak kecil, dan bukan tulisan dokter. Selotipnya baru, tetapi kertasnya lembut dan tua. Kertas itu bertahun-tahun berada di dalam laci. Seseorang menulis ini lama sekali, lalu menyimpannya, dan baru belakangan mengeluarkannya lagi.

"A grown-up's writing, old paper," Rumi writes. "A tooth that waited."

"Tulisan orang dewasa, kertas tua," tulis Rumi. "Sebutir gigi yang menunggu."

The second clue comes at noon. The boat is almost full. A farmer with a basket of onions sits near the front. Two women with bright scarves lean on the side. A boy with a fishing rod keeps asking her if the river is deep. And at the back, standing by himself, is a young man with a very large backpack.

Petunjuk kedua datang pada tengah hari. Perahu hampir penuh. Seorang petani dengan keranjang bawang duduk di dekat depan. Dua perempuan berselendang cerah bersandar di sisi perahu. Seorang anak laki-laki dengan pancing terus bertanya apakah sungainya dalam. Dan di belakang, berdiri sendirian, seorang pemuda dengan ransel yang sangat besar.

Rumi has not seen him before. He is about nineteen, with a thin face and a short haircut that looks new. He holds the strap of his backpack in both hands, like a child at a station. Every few minutes, he pats the pocket of his jacket and then looks anxiously at the tin.

Rumi belum pernah melihatnya. Usianya sekitar sembilan belas tahun, wajahnya tirus dan potongan rambut pendeknya tampak baru. Ia memegang tali ranselnya dengan kedua tangan, seperti anak kecil di stasiun. Setiap beberapa menit, ia menepuk saku jaketnya lalu memandang kaleng dengan cemas.

"Excuse me," he says, when the boat is halfway across. "How much is the fare?"

"Permisi," katanya, ketika perahu sudah di tengah sungai. "Berapa ongkosnya?"

"Two small coins," Rumi says. She keeps pulling the rope. "Put them in the tin."

"Dua koin kecil," kata Rumi. Ia terus menarik tali. "Masukkan ke kaleng."

"I only have big notes," the young man says. "I just came out of the bank in town. I don't have any coins at all."

"Saya hanya punya uang kertas besar," kata si pemuda. "Saya baru keluar dari bank di kota. Saya sama sekali tidak punya koin."

"Then you owe me, and you can pay next time."

"Kalau begitu kamu berutang padaku, dan kamu bisa membayarnya lain kali."

"There won't be a next time," he says. "I'm going to the city, to start a job. Tomorrow I begin at a shop that fixes bicycles. I may not come back for a year."

"Tidak akan ada lain kali," katanya. "Saya pergi ke kota besar, untuk mulai bekerja. Besok saya mulai di toko yang memperbaiki sepeda. Mungkin saya tidak akan kembali selama setahun."

He pats his pocket again.

Ia menepuk sakunya lagi.

"I wanted to pay properly. I really did."

"Saya ingin membayar dengan benar. Sungguh."

Rumi looks at him over her shoulder. He is very serious. She likes him already, in the way you like a nervous stranger who is trying hard.

Rumi memandangnya dari balik bahunya. Pemuda itu sangat serius. Ia sudah menyukainya, seperti kita menyukai orang asing yang gugup dan berusaha keras.

The third clue is small and almost invisible. When the young man speaks, he rubs his jaw, on the left side, with two fingers. He does it without noticing, as people do when they think about something old. Rumi watches the gesture. Then she looks at the tin, and then at his pocket again.

Petunjuk ketiga kecil dan nyaris tak terlihat. Ketika si pemuda berbicara, ia menggosok rahangnya, di sisi kiri, dengan dua jari. Ia melakukannya tanpa sadar, seperti orang yang sedang memikirkan sesuatu yang lama. Rumi mengamati gerakan itu. Lalu ia memandang kaleng, lalu ke saku pemuda itu lagi.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Siapa namamu?" tanyanya.

"Takeshi."

"Takeshi."

"Takeshi," she says. "Do you know what is in the envelope?"

"Takeshi," katanya. "Tahukah kamu apa isi amplop itu?"

He goes completely still. The boy with the fishing rod looks up. Takeshi takes a long breath and says, in a small voice, "You found it."

Ia terdiam sama sekali. Anak laki-laki dengan pancing itu mendongak. Takeshi menarik napas panjang dan berkata, dengan suara kecil, "Kamu menemukannya."

"I found it in the tin this morning," says Rumi. "Before you came. So it was there when you boarded. Somebody put it in before sunrise."

"Aku menemukannya di kaleng pagi ini," kata Rumi. "Sebelum kamu datang. Jadi benda itu sudah ada saat kamu naik. Seseorang memasukkannya sebelum matahari terbit."

"Nobody put it there," says Takeshi. "I did. I came to the landing last night and left it. I wanted to cross without coins. I thought it would be fine."

"Tak ada yang memasukkannya," kata Takeshi. "Aku yang melakukannya. Aku datang ke dermaga semalam dan meninggalkannya. Aku ingin menyeberang tanpa koin. Kupikir tidak apa-apa."

He looks at his shoes.

Ia memandang sepatunya.

"My mother wrote on it. She wrote it when I was six."

"Ibuku menulis di situ. Ia menulisnya waktu aku berumur enam tahun."

"Why a tooth?" asks Rumi.

"Kenapa gigi?" tanya Rumi.

"It's a joke. It's an old joke, from the village." He laughs. "When I was small, I was afraid of the river. Every time we crossed, I cried. So my mother told me that the ferry takes a tooth as payment if you have no coins. She said it wasn't a lie, because a tooth was a very good thing to give. Then I lost my first tooth. She put it in an envelope and wrote FOR FARE on the front. I could pay the river and feel brave."

"Itu lelucon. Lelucon lama dari desa." Ia tertawa. "Waktu kecil, aku takut sungai. Setiap kali kami menyeberang, aku menangis. Jadi ibuku bilang bahwa feri menerima gigi sebagai bayaran kalau kamu tidak punya koin. Katanya itu bukan kebohongan, karena gigi adalah hal yang sangat baik untuk diberikan. Lalu gigi pertamaku tanggal. Ibu memasukkannya ke amplop dan menulis UNTUK ONGKOS di depannya. Aku bisa membayar sungai dan merasa berani."

"And you kept it for thirteen years," Rumi says.

"Dan kamu menyimpannya selama tiga belas tahun," kata Rumi.

"She kept it, actually. In the kitchen drawer. When I packed this week, she put it in my jacket pocket without saying anything. She said I should have the fare ready." He shakes his head. "I forgot the coins, but I remembered the joke. So I left the tooth in the tin last night, and then I felt terrible. I thought I'd given away something important. But I don't want to take it back now, because you might think I lied."

"Sebenarnya Ibu yang menyimpannya. Di laci dapur. Waktu aku berkemas minggu ini, ia memasukkannya ke saku jaketku tanpa berkata apa-apa. Katanya aku harus menyiapkan ongkosnya." Ia menggeleng. "Aku lupa koinnya, tapi aku ingat leluconnya. Jadi aku meninggalkan gigi itu di kaleng semalam, lalu merasa sangat bersalah. Kupikir aku telah memberikan sesuatu yang penting. Tapi sekarang aku tidak mau mengambilnya kembali, karena kamu mungkin mengira aku berbohong."

For a moment, nobody speaks. The women with scarves stop talking. The farmer turns around on his basket, holding an onion in one hand. The boy with the fishing rod stares at Takeshi with great respect.

Sesaat tak seorang pun berbicara. Perempuan-perempuan berselendang berhenti mengobrol. Si petani berbalik di atas keranjangnya, memegang sebuah bawang di satu tangan. Anak laki-laki dengan pancing menatap Takeshi dengan rasa hormat yang besar.

Then Rumi starts to laugh. She laughs so hard that her hands slip on the rope, and the boat slows down. The whole boat laughs with her. Takeshi hides his face in both hands.

Lalu Rumi mulai tertawa. Ia tertawa begitu keras sampai tangannya tergelincir dari tali, dan perahu melambat. Seluruh perahu tertawa bersamanya. Takeshi menyembunyikan wajahnya di kedua tangan.

"It's not funny," he says through his fingers.

"Ini tidak lucu," katanya lewat sela jarinya.

"It's very funny," Rumi says. "I thought I had a crime to solve. I thought a thief left his teeth in my tin. And it's just a boy who forgot his small coins."

"Ini sangat lucu," kata Rumi. "Kukira aku punya kejahatan untuk dipecahkan. Kukira seorang pencuri meninggalkan giginya di kalengku. Ternyata hanya seorang anak laki-laki yang lupa koin kecilnya."

She wipes her eyes.

Ia menyeka matanya.

"Here. Take it back."

"Nih. Ambil kembali."

She puts the little tissue in his open hand. He looks at it. Then he folds his fingers around it, carefully.

Ia meletakkan tisu kecil itu di tangan Takeshi yang terbuka. Takeshi memandangnya. Lalu ia melipat jari-jarinya di sekelilingnya dengan hati-hati.

"Thank you," he says. "But the fare—"

"Terima kasih," katanya. "Tapi ongkosnya—"

"The fare for a tooth is a very serious matter," Rumi says. "I must think about it."

"Ongkos untuk sebutir gigi itu urusan yang sangat serius," kata Rumi. "Aku harus memikirkannya."

She nods toward the thick, wet rope, which hangs between her hands.

Ia mengangguk ke arah tali tebal yang basah, yang menggantung di antara tangannya.

"Come here, Takeshi. Take the other side of the rope. Teeth don't pay on this boat, but arms do."

"Kemari, Takeshi. Pegang sisi tali yang satunya. Gigi tidak berlaku sebagai bayaran di perahu ini, tapi lengan berlaku."