Malam Kudus

Hari Selasa, pukul 9.15, Jonas duduk. Di halte pertama dia sudah tidur. Kepalanya di jendela. Tasnya di lututnya.

On Tuesday, at 9:15, Jonas sits down. At the first stop he is asleep. His head is on the window. His case is on his knees.

Di halte terakhir aku melihatnya. Wajah abu-abu. Tidak tidur berhari-hari, pikirku.

At the last stop I look at him. Grey face. No sleep for days, I think.

Aku tidak membangunkannya. Aku membawanya kembali ke stasiun, dan berkeliling lagi.

I don’t wake him. I drive him back to the station, and round again.

Di alun-alun, pukul 10.40, dia bangun. Dia melihat jamnya. Wajahnya jadi merah.

At the square, at 10:40, he wakes up. He looks at his watch. His face goes red.

“Satu jam! Rosa! Aku punya dua hari!”

“One hour! Rosa! I have two days!”

“Kamu tidur. Itu bagus.”

“You sleep. That’s good.”

Dia tidak menjawab. Dia turun dan berjalan melintasi alun-alun, cepat. Tidak ada “selamat malam”. Tidak ada apa-apa.

He doesn’t answer. He gets off and walks across the square, fast. No “good night”. Nothing.

Hari Rabu pukul 9.15 dia naik. Dia duduk. Lalu dia mengatakannya.

On Wednesday at 9:15 he gets on. He sits down. Then he says it.

“Maaf. Aku tidur satu jam, dan hari ini tanganku baik lagi. Kamu benar.” Dia melihatku di kaca spion. “Rosa. Datanglah ke misa tengah malam. Besok.”

“I’m sorry. I sleep for one hour, and today my hands are good again. You’re right.” He looks at me in the mirror. “Rosa. Come to midnight mass. Tomorrow.”

“Besok aku bekerja. Bus terakhirku sampai di alun-alun pukul 11.50.”

“I’m driving tomorrow. My last bus is at the square at 11:50.”

“Aku tahu. Datanglah sesudahnya.”

“I know. Come after.”

Sesudahnya? Aku tidak mau sesudahnya.

After? I don’t want after.

Di depo aku bertanya kepada Pak Hale. “Besok malam, bus terakhir. Bisakah seseorang mengambilnya?”

At the depot I ask Mr Hale. “Tomorrow night, the last bus. Can somebody take it?”

“Itu malam Natal, Rosa. Tidak ada orang. Tidak.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, Rosa. There’s nobody. No.”