Barbed Dusk
Bagus Pribadi
Translated into English by Muthia Sayekti
Illustration by Sukutangan.
Menik has been picking palm fruit since this morning. The middle-aged woman works for a palm oil plantation located in the middle of Sumatra. The 5300-hectare plantation has 2500 workers. Sometimes Menik looks around and all she finds are palm trees. She and her husband, Darmo, wear only shirts, sweatpants, and boots made of rubber, without any safety gear. In the warmth of the air, with the damp soil underfoot, Menik continues to pick up the palm fruit, sweat flooding her forehead and the tip of her nose. She picks them up one by one and puts them into a used urea-fertilizer sack. The clusters of fruit are cut and fall to the ground, which makes the fruit scatter everywhere. The sack in her hand is the fourth sack of the day. The sounds of crickets and frogs collide around her.
Her husband, who is a year older, has been walking far ahead of her. Darmo is at work cutting off the fruit clusters and midribs of the palm trees with a sickle. Sometimes, Menik is afraid of being alone in the palm plantation, since she often comes across snakes or wild boars. Once in a while, she shouts out, calling her husband who is so far away, moving along the line of palm trees and slicing off the ripe fruits. Almost every day, they do this job. Sometimes even on Sundays and other holidays, they might not have a day off.
It has been fifteen years since they started working at this palm oil plantation. Previously, when they were a newlywed couple, Menik and Darmo were farmers, planting rice along with Menik’s parents in the province next door. Then, the palm oil company came to their village and seized their land by conspiring with the entire regional government, from the regents to the village heads. The company snatched away the land that people lived on and paid them the price set by the company. Menik’s parents, who had been part of the transmigration program under the New Order were forced to work for the company. They used to assume that their lives would be better after moving from Java to Sumatra. Instead, they now have to survive by working for a palm oil company in their old age.
Worse still, when Darmo applied to work for that company, he wasn’t accepted. Darmo and Menik had to move to the neighboring province and leave their elderly parents. After they arrived in this new place, Menik and Darmo began working at a palm oil company too because only this company would hire them.
Menik walks from one tree to another, carrying the sacks full of palm fruit. Far away, she sees Darmo drop onto the grass. Menik runs to him, throwing her sack on the ground. The blade of the iron sickle looks bent and lies at his side.
“How did this happen, Mo?” Menik asks.
Darmo moans because of the pain in his right leg, which is splattered in blood. “I feel dizzy, Nik. I can’t see clearly.”
Menik quickly takes off Darmo’s shirt, and tears it into pieces. She ties the strips around his foot. The pieces of the cloth cover the mixed fresh and coagulated blood. Carefully, Menik helps her husband up, and brings him to their little house, owned by the company. The house is three kilometers away from where they’ve been working.
On the way home, Darmo keeps moaning, Menik’s sweat keeps dripping, and the blood from his leg flows down, forming footprints.
Her daughter, Rara, a sixth grade student in elementary school, has already come home. She opens the door when she hears her mother call out. Their house is one of many arranged in rows in these workers’ barracks—each row consists of four doors, and behind every door lives one family.
Finding her father’s leg covered in blood, Rara suddenly turns pale. She is motionless and cannot say anything. Her mother asks her to call one of their neighbors to get help.
In their house, which has two rooms, one bathroom, and a little kitchen that can only fit a stove and table, Menik is rushing back and forth. The house has cement floors, which are covered in square-patterned plastic mats so that they resemble ceramic floors. The only things in the house are two plastic chairs, one old-fashioned TV, and some photos hanging on the white wall. From the bathroom, Menik takes a bucket from the squat toilet next to the cement tub, whose many leaks have been plugged up by used plastic bags. Then she runs to the backyard. There is a barrel there, made from zinc sheeting, for collecting rainwater. She takes water from the barrel to clean the wound on her husband’s leg. Darmo is groaning because of the great pain he feels. His face is flushed from trying to endure the pain. The wound gapes on his right calf. His face looks so pale, like Rara’s face. Indeed, Rara does look like her father, especially with her sharp nose.
Rara asks for help from Anto, a teenager who had to drop out of high school—a son of a neighbor. He was feeding a magpie, which he caught at the plantation, but immediately runs to Menik’s house. At this time of the day, he’s the only one there because people his age are at school or helping their parents on the plantation. Anto is a lazy boy—he neither goes to school nor helps his parents work.
Anto helps Darmo onto the back of his motorbike. Darmo is very limp, so Menik decides to go with them. They head to the company medical clinic. All along the road covered with gravel, seven kilometers long, the old bike continuously makes noises, as if protesting under the weight of the three of them.
“Hurry, Anto! Can’t you see he’s in pain?!” Menik screams.
“I know, ma’am. This is the fastest I can go. My bike can’t go any faster.”
Menik only exhales in response, trying to endure what she feels.
Once they arrive at the clinic, Anto quickly carries Darmo to the examination room. Menik goes to see the nurse in the lobby.
It’s midday, and there’s only one nurse, and two people sitting on a bench. One of them is wearing a sarong and trembling. The cement floor of the clinic gleams and smells of diesel fuel.
“Ma’am, my husband was just struck by a palm fruit. Please… He needs help right away,” says Menik.
“Wait a moment, please. And fill out this form first,” the nurse answers calmly.
Menik pulls the paper toward her and fills it out with her husband’s data. After this, the nurse goes over to him as he lies on the clinic bed.
Before long, the nurse goes to Menik and says, “We’re sorry. We don’t have the medicine he needs. His wound is quite severe.”
“So, what should I do for him?” asks Menik. She starts to cry.
“I have no idea, ma’am. The medicine you need might be ready next week. For now, I’ll give you some first aid medication,” said the nurse, still calm.
“No, thank you. I already have this kind of medicine at home!”
Menik decides to bring her husband back. Anto helps Menik support Darmo and lifts him onto the motorbike.
Now the bike isn’t as fast as before. It’s not just Darmo who feels hopeless, but also Anto and Menik after finding out the clinic’s situation. The hot sun shines brightly overhead. Behind Anto and Darmo, Menik cries and hugs her husband tightly. Her sobs are sunk by the noise of the motorbike.
Darmo has been waiting a month for the medication. Meanwhile, his leg is getting worse. What the nurse said was bullshit. A week after their first visit to the clinic, Menik went back to get the medicine. The second week, and every week for a month, she’s gone back and forth to the clinic, but she’s gotten nothing.
And she still has to go to work. She works with others who have the same job as her husband. Actually, all her neighbors have a similar job to Darmo’s—cutting down the palm fruit that has ripened.
One evening, at the end of work day, Menik has gotten six sacks of palm fruit. Of course, it doesn’t belong to her, but to the company. She is only a worker who receives a salary every month. Now, it has been a month since her husband has been unable to work, and of course, he can’t receive any payment. When she arrives at home, she can’t find her husband or daughter.
The clock on the wall shows 5:25 pm. Menik brings her seven chickens to their cage. Then Darmo and her daughter come home.
“Where have you been?” asks Menik.
“The office. The clerk wanted to see me,” says Darmo.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
Darmo doesn’t give an answer. He leaves his wife and goes inside the house.
The sun goes down. The sparrows perch on the jackfruit tree beside their house. One can hear the voices of the crickets and frogs. The lizards crawl across the wall and hunt for larons, which fly around the terrace lamp.
Rara goes into her room to read because two days later she will take the National Exam. Menik continuously reminds her daughter to study. Sometimes, Rara falls asleep reading her book on her bed, like tonight. Her bedroom, separate from her parents’, becomes the only place where she can focus while studying.
Menik moves the little stove from the kitchen to heat the iron. They don’t have an electric iron since the company provides only limited electricity. If they use more than the maximum amount, the electricity will shut down automatically.
“Why did the clerk want to see you?” Menik asks her husband the same question while she irons Rara’s uniform.
“He gave me a letter from his boss. A termination of employment letter,” says Darmo softly.
Menik stops ironing and gives her husband a hug. “Let it be, Mo. I knew that we’d find ourselves in this situation.”
“They gave me severance pay. Five million. What can we do with so little?” Darmo asks.
“Just accept it. I’ve earned five hundred and fifty thousand. It can be added to yours.”
“Let’s move to Tuah. It’s the nearest village.”
“Alright… After Rara finishes her exams, we will move there.”
Darmo stops the conversation. He does not give any further response. Then, he goes to the room and lies on the mattress, which itself is lying on the floor.
Menik stops ironing. There, before the growing pile of folded clothes, she cries. Her husband has been fired. It means that she is fired too. That’s the rule. The husbands can work by themselves, but the wives are allowed to work only if their husbands are working too. If the husband stops working, the wife isn’t allowed to work.
In line with this, they no longer can stay at the house provided by the company, as the houses are only for the workers. They have no choice but to move.
The day after Rara finishes her exams, they move to Tuah. The neighbors come to their house to say goodbye. Rara was born there. The neighbors who have motorbikes accompany them and help bring their stuff. The TV and two plastic chairs, the clothes and stove, the cookware, and two mattresses are all packed and loaded onto the bikes. There are six motorbikes to take them. Darmo’s family doesn’t have one. Only a few people who live here can earn enough money to buy a motorbike.
As she rides the bike, Menik recalls all the memories from the fifteen years spent living on the palm oil plantation. She remembers when she gave birth to Rara in the middle of the night. Darmo woke up the neighbor to help her. There, Rara had her first birthday party—when she was five years old. Menik invited everyone, and it was the first and the last birthday party they held.
It takes four hours to get from the plantation to Tuah. Neither they nor the neighbors have ever been there. They only know about the village from the clerk who met with Darmo and gave him the termination letter. Even the clerk has only ever been to that village once.
After Darmo, Menik, and Rara arrive in Tuah, they search for a house to rent. The village is fairly quiet. It’s quite similar to the place they’ve moved from. Tuah is located in the middle of a beautiful forest. When they arrive, they find two children in front of their house, playing with cars made from wood. Behind the houses are many monkeys. The reddish dirt road is still unpaved. From where they stand, they can also see the minaret of a mosque nearby.
Finally, Darmo finds the rental house. He makes a deal with Dani, the owner of the house. Darmo agrees to rent it for three months.
“Actually, I’ve been trying to rent it out for a long time, and you are the first one,” says Dani. “So, I hope you don’t mind if the house is dirty.”
“It’s ok. Let me pay for the first three months. I’ll extend it afterwards,” says Darmo.
“I hope you enjoy living there. Where are you from, anyway?” Dani asks.
“I’m from the palm oil plantation. I no longer work there. That’s why I had to leave and come here,” says Darmo with a smile.
“Ah I see… I think I have to go. See you, sir.” Dani, who is tall with tanned skin, takes his leave.
Darmo nods. He doesn’t dare admit that he only has enough money to rent the house for three months and that he must put aside the rest for their daily needs while he looks for a new job. Rara has decided to postpone starting junior high until next year. At first, she couldn’t accept this and it made her cry for three days and three nights. However, as the days went by, she realized her parents’ situation. Eventually, when her mother tried to persuade her to continue her studies the next year, she agreed.
It’s been five days since they moved into this house, which is quite far from the other houses, at the edge of the village. For these five days, all Rara has done is stay at home to help her mother in the kitchen. They collect wood and old coconut-tree midribs from the backyard. They try to build a pillar and make the kitchen into a square. The woods are tied to the pillars that have already been built in order to create a wall. Meanwhile, the midribs are made into the kitchen roof. The kitchen consists only of a stove and some other stuff that they have. Darmo can’t do anything to help as his foot is getting worse. Now he even has to walk using a walking stick.
This evening, the sky is bright. The house looks impressive by the light of the dusk. Darmo is sitting on the terrace when somebody passes in front of his house.
“Good evening, sir. Where are you going?” asks Darmo.
“The mosque. Want to come with me?” The man wearing a sarong and cap smiles persuasively at Darmo.
“I am sorry, sir. I’m not praying,” says Darmo, smiling as well.
The man’s expression suddenly changes, like dark clouds ready to let loose rain. He stops in his tracks. But then he continues on his way without saying goodbye.
Darmo feels confused and decides to go inside. He gets himself a glass of water and drinks it in a hurry. It makes Menik curious.
“Calm down,” says Menik. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” answers Darmo.
Night has fallen. Thirty minutes after the prayers have ended, some people come to Darmo’s house, including the man whom Darmo has just met, along with the head of the village and Dani, the owner of the rental house. Darmo and Menik come out, looking confused. Rara stays inside the house, eating dinner.
“Is there a problem, sir?” Darmo asks carefully, still trying to smile.
“Well,” explains Dani, “I forgot to ask, and you didn’t tell me what your religion is. So we’re here to ask.”
“May I know why?” asks Darmo.
“So, this village has a rule. No one with a different religion from us is allowed to live here,” answers the head of the village. “It’s the rule that has been in effect since this village was founded. It’s the tradition of our ancestors,” he continues.
“You don’t follow the same religion as us, do you?” asks the man whom Darmo met earlier this evening. “There is only one religion in this village, sir,” he says.
Menik cries and goes inside the house. Finding her mother sobbing, Rara, who doesn’t understand what the problem is, sheds tears too and hugs her mother. Darmo sighs deeply. There is a terror and a sorrow for his family’s hardships that he feels he cannot accept.
“We know that we don’t share the same religion as the people in this village,” pleads Darmo. “But I beg you to let us live here. We have no idea where else to live.”
“No, you can’t,” yells the village head. “Although this country recognizes six religions, this village only accepts one. We do it to prevent disturbances from people who have different ways of life.”
“Give me more time, please. I’ve paid three months’ rent to Mr. Dani for this house.”
“No, you can’t live here any longer. I’ll give half your payment back!” says Dani.
“We don’t compromise. You have to leave this village tomorrow,” explains the village head. You may visit, but you can’t live here anymore. Your daughter may study at the school in this village, but she has to follow the curriculum and activities, and wear her uniform in accordance with the rules of the school. In short, you may conduct activities here, as long as you’re not living here.”
“You must move tomorrow!” shouts a man.
“These are only some of the villagers,” says another. “Some of the others already know and they’re angry too. Don’t force us to make you move. Like it or not, you have to move tomorrow to save yourselves. And then, we can live peacefully.”
“Alright, then. All of you can go back home. Don’t worry. We’re not going to disturb you. Tomorrow, we’ll move,” says Darmo softly.
The next morning, Darmo hears the rooster crowing, like an alarm of an ambulance bearing a corpse. Menik tears down the kitchen that they’ve spent five days building. Darmo and Rara pack all the household things they need. They bring only clothes and cookware with them. Menik and Rara carry the things while Darmo limps along on his one leg, his arm around Menik’s shoulder to help him walk. They have no idea where to go. All they know is they have to leave Tuah.
There is no one to say goodbye to them like there was in the palm oil plantation. They leave the village alone. They keep walking on the reddish road through the forest. They don’t know whether or not another village lies ahead. They keep walking, going where time leads, and passing through life, not knowing how it will end.
© Bagus Pribadi
English translation © Muthia Sayekti
SENJA BERDURI
Bagus Pribadi
Ilustrasi oleh Sukutangan.
Sudah sedari pagi Menik mengutip brondolan. Perempuan paruh baya itu bekerja pada salah satu perkebunan kelapa sawit yang terletak di bagian tengah Sumatra. Kebun dengan luas 5300 hektar itu memiliki 2500 pekerja. Menik sesekali melihat-lihat ke samping, yang hanya ada kelapa sawit melulu. Ia dan suaminya, Darmo, hanya mengenakan kaus, celana training, dan sepatu bot berbahan karet, sama sekali tak memakai alat keselamatan kerja. Di tengah hangatnya udara serta tanah lembab, Menik terus mengutipi brondolan, dengan keringat yang memenuhi kening dan ujung hidungnya. Dikutipnya satu demi satu dan dimasukkannya ke dalam karung bekas wadah pupuk urea. Buah sawit yang dipotong dan terempas ke tanah membuat brondolan itu berhamburan. Karung di tangannya sudah yang keempat untuk hari ini. Suara jangkrik dan kodok bertabrakan di sekitarnya.
Suaminya, yang lebih tua setahun daripadanya, sudah melesat jauh di depannya. Darmo bekerja memotong buah dan pelepah kelapa sawit menggunakan egrek. Terkadang, Menik takut berada di tengah-tengah kebun kelapa sawit sendirian, karena tak jarang ia berhadapan dengan ular dan babi hutan. Sesekali ia berteriak memanggil suaminya yang terus maju mengikuti barisan pohon kelapa sawit dan memotong buah sawit yang sudah matang. Hampir tiap hari Menik dan Darmo melakukan pekerjaan ini. Terkadang pada hari Minggu atau hari libur lainnya pun mereka harus tetap bekerja.
Sudah lima belas tahun mereka bekerja di perkebunan kelapa sawit tersebut. Sebelumnya, ketika mereka baru menikah, Menik dan Darmo bersawah, menanam padi dengan orangtua Menik di provinsi sebelah. Kemudian, perusahaan kelapa sawit datang ke kampung mereka, merampas lahan dengan cara bersekongkol dengan pemerintah daerah, mulai dari bupati hingga kepala desa. Perusahaan merampas ruang hidup mereka dan membayar sesuai dengan kemauan perusahaan. Orangtua Menik yang dahulu mengikuti program transmigrasi pada masa Orde Baru terpaksa bekerja pada perusahaan kelapa sawit itu. Mereka yang dulu beranggapan akan mendapatkan hidup yang layak ketika mengikuti program transmigrasi dari Jawa ke Sumatra, kini telantar dan harus bekerja pada perusahaan kelapa sawit pada usia yang renta.
Lebih naas lagi, ketika Darmo turut melamar kerja di perusahaan itu, ia tak diterima. Hal ini membuat Darmo dan Menik merantau ke provinsi sebelah, meninggalkan orangtuanya yang renta. Ketika sampai di perantauan, Menik dan Darmo bekerja pada perusahaan kelapa sawit juga, karena hanya perusahaan itu yang mau menerima mereka.
Menik berjalan dari pohon satu ke pohon lainnya sambil memanggul karung yang berisi brondolan. Di ujung penglihatannya, ia melihat Darmo terkulai lemas di rerumputan. Menik berlari ke arah Darmo, mengempaskan karungnya ke tanah. Besi panjang egrek itu bengkok, persis di samping suaminya.
“Kenapa bisa seperti ini, Mo?” tanya Menik.
Darmo meringis kesakitan, memegangi kaki kanannya yang berlumuran darah. “Kepalaku tadi pening, mataku kunang-kunang, Nik.”
Menik langsung membuka baju Darmo, lalu mengoyak baju itu menjadi beberapa helai. Menik mengikat helaian itu ke kaki Darmo. Darah segar bercampur darah kental kian tertutup helaian baju. Perlahan-lahan Menik mendirikan Darmo dan menuntunnya menuju sepetak rumah yang mereka tempati, milik perusahaan kelapa sawit. Rumah itu berjarak tiga kilometer dari tempat mereka bekerja.
Sepanjang jalan Darmo terus meringis kesakitan, keringat Menik terus jatuh ke tanah, dan darah Darmo terus mengalir sampai ke ujung kakinya hingga menjadi jejak langkahnya.
Anaknya, Rara, yang duduk di bangku kelas enam SD sudah pulang sekolah. Ia membuka pintu ketika ibunya memanggilnya dari luar rumah. Rumah mereka adalah satu dari sekian rumah petak berderet yang ada di pemukiman itu—tiap deret terdiri dari empat pintu, yang masing-masing berisi satu keluarga.
Mendapati kaki bapaknya berlumur darah, seketika muka Rara pucat. Ia diam tanpa sepatah kata pun terucap dari mulutnya. Rara disuruh ibunya memanggil salah satu tetangganya.
Di rumah yang memiliki dua kamar, satu kamar mandi, dan dapur kecil yang hanya muat untuk meletakkan satu kompor serta satu meja persegi itu, Menik berlalu-lalang. Rumah berlantai semen itu ditutupi karpet plastik bercorak petak persegi, membuat rumah mereka seolah-olah berlantai keramik. Di rumah itu hanya terpajang dua kursi plastik, satu TV tabung, dan foto-foto yang menempel di dinding bercat putih kapur. Dari kamar mandi Menik mengambil ember yang terletak di atas WC jongkok, di samping bak mandi semen yang banyak disumpal bekas kantong plastik karena bolong. Lalu ia berlari ke belakang rumah. Di sana terdapat gentong dari seng untuk menampung air hujan. Ia mengambil air dari gentong tersebut, kemudian membasuh luka suaminya. Darmo mengerang akibat rasa pedih yang amat sangat. Mukanya memerah menahan rasa pedih itu. Luka menganga tepat di bagian betis kaki kanannya. Wajahnya pucat, persis seperti wajah Rara. Rara memang mirip dengan Darmo, terutama hidungnya yang mancung.
Rara meminta tolong kepada Anto, remaja putus sekolah usia SMA, putra salah satu tetangga mereka. Ia yang tadinya sedang asyik memberi makan burung kacer, yang baru saja ia dapatkan melalui jerat di perkebunan kelapa sawit, langsung bergegas ke rumah Menik. Hanya dia yang ada di pemukiman saat itu, semua orang seusianya berada di sekolah atau di kebun kelapa sawit membantu orangtuanya masing-masing. Anto anak yang malas—malas bersekolah dan malas membantu orangtuanya.
Anto menggotong Darmo ke atas sepeda motornya. Darmo sangat lemas, sehingga Menik ikut bersama mereka. Di atas sepeda motor itu, mereka bertiga melesat ke klinik kebun kelapa sawit. Di atas jalan tanah yang dipenuhi kerikil, sepanjang tujuh kilometer hamparan kelapa sawit, sepeda motor butut itu terus bersuara bising, seakan memprotes bobot tiga orang di atasnya.
“Anto, lebih cepat, kau lihat suamiku ini!” teriak Menik.
“Iya, Bu, ini sudah paling cepat, motornya enggak sanggup.”
Di belakang, Menik hanya mendengus.
Sesampainya di klinik, Anto langsung menggendong Darmo menuju kamar rawat. Menik menjumpai perawat yang berada di lobi.
Siang itu, hanya ada seorang perawat dan dua orang yang sedang duduk di bangku panjang. Satu orang mengenakan sarung dan menggigil. Lantai semen klinik mengilat dan menguarkan bau solar.
“Bu, itu suami saya tertimpa buah kelapa sawit tadi, tolong langsung ditangani,” ujar Menik.
“Sebentar ya, Bu, isi datanya dulu,” ucap perawat itu dengan santai.
Menik langsung menarik kertas tersebut dan mengisi data suaminya. Setelah selesai, perawat menghampiri suaminya yang telentang di atas kasur klinik.
Tak lama, perawat itu menemui Menik. “Bu, maaf, obatnya enggak ada, lukanya cukup parah.”
“Jadi suamiku bagaimana, Bu?” tanya Menik. Lagi-lagi airmatanya berlinang.
“Saya juga enggak tahu, Bu. Mungkin kalau obat jenis itu seminggu lagi baru datang. Saya kasih obat luka ringan saja ya, Bu, untuk sementara,” ujar sang perawat dengan wajah tetap tenang.
“Kalau itu, saya ada di rumah!”
Menik langsung membawa suaminya pulang, Anto membantu Menik memapah Darmo dan menaikkannya ke sepeda motor.
Kali ini sepeda motor yang mereka tumpangi melaju tak secepat saat pergi tadi. Bukan hanya Darmo yang kehilangan semangat, Anto dan Menik pun lemas mendapati keadaan klinik kebun kelapa sawit yang seperti itu. Terik matahari menghantam ubun-ubun kepala. Di belakang Anto dan Darmo, sambil memeluk suaminya, Menik menangis. Isaknya bertabrakan dengan kebisingan motor butut yang mereka kendarai.
Sudah sebulan Darmo di rumah menanti kakinya sembuh. Namun, kakinya justru membusuk. Perkataan perawat klinik itu tak benar. Seminggu setelahnya, Menik mengunjungi klinik dan tak juga mendapatkan obat untuk suaminya. Minggu kedua sampai sebulan, setiap minggu Menik mengunjungi klinik dan tak juga mendapatkan obat.
Menik harus tetap bekerja. Ia bekerja bersama orang lain yang pekerjaannya sama dengan suaminya. Lagipula, semua tetangganya bekerja layaknya suaminya, memotong buah kelapa sawit yang sudah berwarna kemerah-merahan.
Suatu sore, di akhir jam kerjanya, Menik mendapatkan enam karung brondolan. Tentu itu bukan miliknya, tapi milik perusahaan kelapa sawit. Ia hanya bekerja dan menerima gaji tiap bulannya, dan selama sebulan suaminya sudah tak bekerja, sudah tak menerima gaji. Sesampainya di rumah, Menik tak mendapati suaminya, anaknya juga tak ada.
Jam di dinding menunjukkan pukul 17.25. Menik menggiring tujuh ekor ayamnya menuju kandang. Saat itu pula, suami dan anaknya pulang.
“Ke mana saja?” tanya Menik.
“Dari kantor, aku tadi siang dipanggil kerani,” jawab Darmo.
“Dipanggil? Memangnya ada apa?” tanya Menik.
Darmo diam. Ia langsung masuk ke dalam rumah.
Hari kian gelap, burung-burung gereja bertengger di pohon nangka di samping rumah mereka. Suara jangkrik mulai terdengar, kodok pun tak mau ketinggalan. Cicak-cicak berjalan-jalan di dinding depan rumah, mencari laron-laron yang mengelilingi lampu teras rumah.
Rara masuk ke kamarnya dan membaca buku, dua hari lagi ia akan mengikuti Ujian Nasional. Menik tak henti-henti mengingatkan Rara untuk terus belajar. Beberapa kali Rara tertidur saat membaca buku di kasurnya yang langsung bertemu dengan lantai, termasuk malam ini. Kamarnya yang terpisah dengan kamar orangtuanya menjadi ruang satu-satunya bagi Rara untuk bisa fokus belajar.
Menik memindahkan kompor sumbu dari dapur untuk memanaskan setrika panggang. Mereka tak menggunakan setrika listrik karena listrik perumahan dibatasi penggunaannya oleh perusahaan. Jika penggunaan melewati batas, listrik otomatis mati.
“Kenapa kerani memanggil kamu?” tanya Menik sambil menyetrika baju sekolah Rara.
“Kerani memberikan surat dari atasannya untukku. Surat pemberhentian kerja,” kata Darmo lirih.
Menik berhenti menyetrika, memeluk suaminya. “Sudah, ikhlaskan saja, Mo. Aku sudah yakin sejak sore tadi pasti bakal seperti ini.”
“Mereka memberikan pesangon, lima juta. Bisa apa kita dengan uang segitu, Nik,” keluh Darmo.
“Terima saja uangnya. Gajiku ada lima ratus lima puluh ribu, lumayan buat tambahan.”
“Kita pindah ke Desa Tuah saja, Nik. Itu desa yang paling dekat dari sini.”
“Iya. Setelah Rara selesai ujian kita pindah.”
Darmo tak melanjutkan percakapan, ia diam saja. Tak lama kemudian, ia menuju kamar dan berbaring di atas kasur yang juga langsung bertemu dengan lantai.
Menik berhenti menyetrika, di hadapan kain-kain yang menumpuk ia menangis. Suaminya dipecat, itu artinya ia juga dipecat dari perusahaan kelapa sawit itu. Begitu aturannya. Suami boleh bekerja sendiri, tapi istri hanya bisa bekerja dengan syarat suaminya juga bekerja. Jika suami tak bekerja, istri tak boleh bekerja.
Dan mereka tak bisa menetap di perumahan perkebunan kelapa sawit itu, karena rumah itu hanya untuk para pekerja. Mau tak mau, mereka harus pindah dari situ.
Setelah Rara selesai Ujian Nasional, keesokan harinya mereka pindah ke Desa Tuah. Tetangga-tetangga berdatangan ke rumah mereka dan mengucapkan perpisahan. Rara lahir di rumah petak tersebut. Mereka diantar para tetangganya yang memiliki sepeda motor, mengangkut barang-barang. TV tabung, dua kursi plastik, pakaian, kompor, alat masak, piring, dan dua kasur yang dilipat di atas motor. Ada enam motor yang mengantarkan mereka. Mereka tak memiliki motor, di pemukiman itu hanya beberapa orang saja yang memiliki motor.
Di atas motor, Menik terbayang-bayang kenangan selama lima belas tahun tinggal di perkebunan kelapa sawit. Ia teringat pada tengah malam melahirkan Rara, Darmo membangunkan tetangga untuk menolong proses kelahiran. Di situ juga pertama kali Rara mengadakan pesta ulang tahun—yaitu ulang tahunnya yang kelima. Menik mengundang semua tetangganya. Sampai sekarang mereka tak pernah merayakan ulang tahun seperti itu lagi.
Perjalanan dari perkebunan kelapa sawit ke Desa Tuah memakan waktu empat jam. Keluarga Darmo dan para tetangga mereka belum pernah ke sana. Mereka hanya tahu desa tersebut dari kerani yang memanggil Darmo dan memberikan surat pemecatan. Kerani itu pun hanya sekali ke Desa Tuah.
Sesampainya Darmo, Menik, dan Rara di Desa Tuah, mereka mencari kontrakan rumah. Desa itu tidaklah ramai, tak jauh berbeda keadaannya dengan perumahan perkebunan kelapa sawit. Desa Tuah berada di tengah-tengah hutan yang asri. Ketika mereka sampai, mereka hanya melihat dua orang anak yang bermain mobil-mobilan terbuat dari kayu di depan rumah mereka. Di belakang rumah warga terdapat banyak monyet. Jalanan desa itu masih tanah berwarna kemerah-merahan. Mereka melihat satu menara masjid tak jauh dari tempat mereka berdiri.
Darmo menemukan rumah kontrakan. Ia langsung bertransaksi dengan sang pemilik rumah, Dani, dan menyewa rumah itu selama tiga bulan.
“Sudah lama saya sewakan ini, Pak, tapi baru Bapak yang menyewa. Jadi nanti kalau rumahnya berdebu mohon dimaklumi ya, Pak,” ujar Dani.
“Iya, Pak. Saya sewa tiga bulan dulu ya, Pak, nanti setelah tiga bulan saya perpanjang,” kata Darmo.
“Semoga betah dengan rumahnya, Pak. Bapak berasal dari mana?” tanyanya.
“Dari perkebunan kelapa sawit, Pak. Saya sudah tak bekerja di sana lagi, makanya pindah ke desa ini,” jawab Darmo sembari tersenyum.
“Oh, baiklah, Pak. Kalau begitu saya tinggal dulu ya, Pak. Mari.” Dani yang berperawakan tinggi berkulit cokelat itu undur diri.
Darmo mengangguk. Ia tak mengatakan bahwa uang mereka hanya cukup untuk menyewa selama tiga bulan, sisa uangnya dipakai untuk makan sehari-hari sambil mencari pekerjaan. Rara berencana melanjutkan pendidikan ke jenjang SMP tahun depan. Awalnya, ia tak mau dan menangis tiga hari tiga malam. Namun, kian hari ia kian sadar keadaan orangtuanya dan mengangguk ketika ibunya membujuknya untuk melanjutkan sekolah tahun depan.
Sudah lima hari mereka tinggal di rumah kontrakan itu, yang agak jauh dari rumah-rumah warga lainnya, berada di pinggiran desa. Selama lima hari Rara di rumah saja membantu ibunya membuat dapur. Mereka mengumpulkan kayu dan pelepah kelapa kering yang didapatkan Menik dari belakang rumah. Mendirikan tiang dapur dan membentuk dapur menjadi segi empat. Kayu-kayu tersebut dieratkan ke tiang-tiang yang sudah didirikan sehingga menjadi dinding dapur. Sedangkan pelepah kelapa kering itu menjadi atap dapur. Dapur itu hanya diisi kompor dan alat-alat masak yang mereka punya. Darmo tak bisa membantu apa-apa, kakinya semakin membusuk, ke mana-mana ia menggunakan tongkat.
Sore itu, langit berwarna jingga. Rumah kayu itu tampak gagah dihiasi cahaya sore hari. Darmo sedang duduk di teras rumah ketika seorang lelaki melintas di hadapan.
“Sore, Pak,” sapa Darmo. “Mau ke mana, Pak?”
“Mau sembahyang, Pak.” Lelaki itu yang mengenakan sarung dan peci itu tersenyum kepada Darmo. “Ayo bareng!”
“Saya tidak sembahyang, Pak,” jawab Darmo sambil tersenyum.
Raut wajah lelaki itu seketika berubah, mendung bak awan siap sedia menumpahkan air hujan ke bumi. Langkah kakinya terhenti. Kemudian ia melanjutkan perjalanan tanpa permisi.
Darmo heran, lalu ia masuk ke dalam rumah. Ia mengambil air putih dan langsung menenggaknya. Menik heran melihat kelakuan suaminya.
“Kalau minum itu pelan-pelan kan bisa,” ketus Menik kepada suaminya. “Memangnya ada apa?”
“Enggak… enggak ada apa-apa,” jawab Darmo.
Hari telah malam. Tiga puluh menit berselang setelah mereka melaksanakan sembahyang, belasan orang mendatangi rumah Darmo, termasuk bapak yang tadi, kepala desa, dan Dani, pemilik kontrakan. Darmo dan Menik keluar dengan raut wajah heran. Rara sedang makan di dalam rumah.
“Ada apa, Bapak-bapak?” tanya Darmo dengan hati-hati, setengah tersenyum.
“Begini, Pak, dulu saya tak bertanya dan Bapak tak memberitahu agamanya apa. Jadi maksud kedatangan kami hendak menanyakan itu,” jelas Dani.
“Memangnya kenapa, Pak?” tanya Darmo.
“Jadi, di desa ini ada aturannya. Tak boleh orang yang tidak beragama sama dengan kami bermukim di desa ini,” jawab kepala desa. “Itu sudah aturan dari awal, sejak desa ini dibangun. Aturan dari orang-orang tua kami dahulu,” lanjutnya menjelaskan.
“Bapak tak seagama dengan kami, kan?” tanya bapak yang tadi berpapasan dengan Darmo. “Di desa ini hanya ada satu agama, Pak,” sambungnya.
Menik menangis dan langsung masuk ke dalam rumah. Melihat ibunya menangis, Rara yang tak tahu permasalahannya turut menangis dan memeluk ibunya. Darmo menghela napas panjang. Ada rasa takut sekaligus iba dengan keluarganya yang sukar sekali tubuhnya terima.
“Kami memang tak seagama dengan Bapak-bapak semua, dengan seluruh warga di desa ini. Tapi, perbolehkanlah kami sekeluarga tinggal di desa ini, Pak. Kami tak tahu harus ke mana lagi,” Darmo memohon.
“Tidak bisa, Pak. Walaupun negara ini mengakui enam agama, di desa ini hanya boleh satu agama saja, Pak. Hal itu kami yakini agar desa ini tetap dalam keadaan aman. Agar tak ada gangguan dari orang-orang yang tak sejalan dengan kami,” kata kepala desa dengan nada tinggi.
“Berikanlah kami waktu, Pak. Saya juga sudah bayar kepada Bapak Dani uang sewa selama tiga bulan.”
“Tidak bisa, sekarang juga saya kembalikan setengah uang sewamu!” kata Dani.
“Pokoknya, besok kalian harus sudah pindah dari desa ini. Kalian boleh berkunjung ke desa ini, tapi tidak boleh tinggal di desa ini. Anak kalian juga bisa bersekolah di desa ini, tapi harus mengikuti pelajaran dan kegiatan, juga berbusana, sesuai dengan kesepakatan sekolah di desa ini. Jadi tak apa kalian beraktivitas di desa ini, asal rumah kalian, tempat tinggal kalian tidak di desa ini,” jelas kepala desa.
“Pokoknya besok pagi kalian harus pindah!” bentak seorang bapak lainnya.
“Ini hanya sebagian warga desa, Pak. Itu pun sudah ada yang marah seperti ini, jangan sampai seluruh warga desa memaksa kalian pindah. Jadi, besok kalian memang harus pindah, supaya kalian aman-aman saja dan kami pun tenteram-tenteram saja,” ujar seorang bapak lainnya lagi.
“Baik, Pak. Bapak semua boleh pulang dengan tenteram. Kami tak akan mengganggu Bapak-bapak semua. Besok pagi kami pindah,” ujar Darmo lirih.
Keesokan paginya, Darmo mendengar ayam berkokok bak sirene ambulans sedang membawa mayat. Menik membongkar dapur yang selama lima hari ia bangun. Darmo dan Rara mengemas segala peralatan rumah tangga yang dibutuhkan. Mereka pergi dengan hanya membawa pakaian dan peralatan masak. Menik dan Rara membawa barang-barang, sedangkan Darmo berjalan tertatih dengan satu kakinya, tangannya merangkul bahu Menik sebagai penolong langkahnya. Mereka tak tahu ke mana harus melangkah, hanya tahu pagi itu juga mereka harus meninggalkan Desa Tuah.
Tak satu pun tetangga mengucapkan perpisahan laiknya sewaktu di perkebunan kelapa sawit. Sunyi sepi mereka meninggalkan Desa Tuah. Mereka melangkah di jalan tanah berwarna kemerah-merahan yang diapit hutan. Mereka tak tahu di depan sana ada desa lagi atau tidak. Mereka berjalan dan terus berjalan, mengikuti waktu dan menjalani kehidupan tanpa melihat sedikit pun ujung perjalanan.
© Bagus Pribadi
Bagus Pribadi was born in Koto Kampar, Riau, in 1999. He is currently studying at the Department of Communications, UIN Sultan Syarif Kasim, Riau. He is editor-in-chief of the Student Press Institute (LPM), and received the Fellowship Workshop and Diversity Coverage from the Journalists Union for Diversity (SEJUK) in 2019. He can be found on Instagram and Twitter @thedesperateact.
MUTHIA SAYEKTI is a freelance writer who has penned four books on the theme of popular psychology. Sometimes she also works as a freelance translator, mostly of academic texts, and as an interpreter for various seminars, forums, or other events. Her articles have been published by Voxpop.id, Mojok.co, and Solopos, a local newspaper in Surakarta, Central Java. Currently she volunteers with Difalitera, which produces audio versions of Indonesian short stories and poems for blind and visually impaired people.
SUKUTANGAN is a collective that consists of the couple Genta Shimaoka and Sekar Wulandari Yogaster, who work a lot with books. They make illustrations, design covers, do layouts, and perform editorial tasks, such as writing, editing, and translating. Sukutangan has been working for almost four years, producing five-ten cover designs every month. Sukutangan has designed covers for books published by major and independent publishers, from literary works to translated popular novels.