Masing-masing dari mereka menutup malam dengan rasa takut. Bahwa apa yang dikatakan gadis peramal yang diusir dari kota itu mewujud nyata. Seorang pembalas dendam telah ada di jantung kota tersebut. Menyelinap dan menunggu waktu untuk menenggelamkan atau menikam. Atau meracun, seperti malam itu.

Keesokan harinya, tidak ada yang berani keluar rumah sebelum dentang lonceng pemakaman dibunyikan. Tidak ada roti-roti hangat yang tersedia di depan toko, maupun perkumpulan gosip ibu tetangga. Tidak ada riuh penjual pasar dan permainan anak-anak. Seluruh kota terudung senyap. Para penduduk kota mengantar jenazah Lord Geiger dalam suasana duka, tapi mereka tidak merasa sedih sedikitpun.

Lord Geiger adalah petinggi kota, pemilik percetakan surat kabar kota, dan pemilik semua ladang di timur kota. Tapi ia tak pernah mengangkat topi ataupun membuang waktunya menyapa orang lain. Ia tidak berteman dengan siapapun yang menurutnya, tidak sesuai dengan kelasnya. Suatu keganjilan memang bahwa ia tiba-tiba jatuh cinta kepada putri keluarga France, dan mengiriminya mawar putih setiap hari Rabu. Suatu keganjilan memang menemukannya mendatangi bar di malam itu. Suatu keganjilan memang menemukannya terbunuh di lantai dansa.

***

Inspektur Schopenhauer sampai di tempat kejadian tidak lebih dari 15 menit setelah seorang petugas memukul-mukul pintu rumahnya. Ia memperhatikan jenazah Lord Geiger yang tersungkur di lantai. Buih-buih putih terlihat keluar dari samping bibirnya. Pengunjung bar lainnya terduduk di sudut lain ruangan, beberapa gemetar ketakutan. Sesosok pemuda tegap menghampirinya. Sersan Erwin kebetulan sedang mengambil cutinya, ia datang ke bar tersebut bersama teman-temannya akademinya ketika kejadian itu berlangsung.

“Tidak ada waktu cuti untukmu, eh?” tanya Inspektur ketika mengetahui Sersan Erwin yang menahan semua pengunjung untuk tetap berada di tempatnya dan menghubungi kepolisian.

“Hanya nasib sial. Seperti nasibnya malam ini,” sersan Erwin merilik ke arah jenazah. “Ia mengejang ketika lagu favorit saya diputar, benar-benar nasib sial.”

“Schrodinger’s, Paradox. Sudah kubilang untuk tak mendengar musik aneh seperti ini,” Inspektur meletakkan kembali bungkus piringan hitam di atas meja ke tempatnya semula. “Siapa saja yang berada di lantai dansa bersamanya?”

“Musik baru diputar ketika itu, hanya ada 5 orang yang bersamanya. Termasuk putri keluarga France.”

Inspektur melihat sekelompok orang yang duduk di sebuah meja panjang di sebelah bar. Tampak dua orang petugas sedang menginterogasi mereka.

“Aah, ya, ya, mawar putih di hari Rabu. Ini bisa jadi judul berita yang bagus, kalau saja percetakan korannya bisa tetap bertahan. Bartendernya menceritakan sesuatu?”

“Cognac, 2 gelas. Kami menginterogasinya di ruangan terpisah. Tidak ada yang aneh, kecuali kedatangannya di bar ini. Siapapun tahu bar ini bukan kelasnya, kecuali—ia datang bersama gadis yang disukainya sejak lama.”

“Mereka datang berdua? Dan dari semua malam, ia harus mati di malam ini? Ketika akhirnya gadis itu mau mengajaknya keluar?”

Sersan Erwin menghela nafas, “Sudah saya bilang sebelumnya, ia hanya bernasib sial.”

***

Ketika malam melarut, sang pembalas dendam mengangkat topinya dan membungkuk di depan bar tersebut. Beberapa mengikutinya, menyangka hal tersebut sebagai penghormatan terakhir kepada Lord Geiger. Ia melangkahkan kakinya perlahan, seperti pengunjung bar lain yang masih merasakan syok. Padahal darahnya bergejolak, satu orang sudah tumbang. Ia menyelipkan sebuah surat di sebuah kotak pos beberapa blok sebelum tempat menginapnya, surat yang ditulisnya sebelum berangkat ke bar. Surat yang ditulisnya sebelum mengaduk bubuk racun di dalam gelas cognac-nya. Surat yang ditulisnya sebelum menukar gelasnya dengan gelas Lord Geiger ketika pria malang itu terpesona oleh kecantikan putri keluarga France.

“Sayang sekali, tak ada lagi mawar putih di hari Rabu. Mungkin aku akan mengirimimu bunga lily sebagai ganti kebaikanmu malam ini.”

Malam itu juga, surat tersebut berubah menjadi abu di perapian keluarga France. Gadis itu melepas ikatan rambutnya sebelum menarik selimutnya untuk tidur, hal yang tak pernah dilakukannya sebelumnya. Hal yang ia lakukan untuk meyakinkan Lord Geiger untuk datang ke bar malam itu. Gadis itu tersenyum dalam tidurnya, ia akhirnya bisa bernafas lega.

Ia tak pernah suka mawar putih.

This is the city that sleeps at noon.

The clattering sound of iron and the sparks of fire. All the great blacksmith lives here, sharing a perspective about a metal that breathes a life. A fire that dances through a clank. Hands that kiss a birth. This is the city that closed the door for a stranger and lifts the glass for a brother. This is the city that sleeps at noon.

 A wanderer came late at noon, hoping for direction and longing for a glass of water. He knocked several doors, and all went to waste. It didn’t take a long time until he fell at the next corner and lost his consciousness from dehydrating. Believing life was too short as his journey not near to end.

However, life didn’t give up on him that day. He woke up at midnight, finding a loud song surrounded him. Glass clanked, alcohol was spilled. A young boy, about his age, handing him a glass of water. He gave him another as the wanderer gulped through the glass as fast as he can.

“Hell of a journey, brother?” he finally asked after the third glass was being served.

 “Sort of nickel and some water. Ended in a dead city in the middle of the afternoon. So, the city isn’t dead after all,” the wanderer answered as his eyes glanced the room.

 The young boy laughed, “You’re right, the city is quiet nocturnal. Here, the joy started when the sun’s hiding.”

 The wanderer glanced around the house, it was not quite a house but there were sets of long chairs and a little bar in the room. A man came from the only door of the room, wearing a worn-out gray apron that full of black stain and a set of gavel and hammer. He threw all those tools on the floor, joining the other set of gavel as it made a loud clank echoed through the room.

“A blacksmith,” the wanderer responded, “this is the city of blacksmith, far east of the Great Kingdom.”

“You guess that right, brother. We breathe fire like the dragon, and we paint the world in metal. This is where great things happen,” the young blacksmith lifted his own pint of alcohol. “Seems like this is not the city you’re headed then. Where is the next destination?”

The wanderer pulled out a hand drawn map from his pocket, “I’m headed north from Great Kingdom, quite a great deviation finding me here.”

“What’s at the north?”

“Dessert,” he answered shortly, put back the map into his pocket.

Not a surprise that the blacksmith asked him again, “What’s in the dessert?”

The wanderer smiled, “Hope. A city. I dream to build a city,” the wandered gave a long pause, “…but you know, we grew old, we get broken hearted, we lost faith, we stop believing, and then we stop dreaming. We let the stream take it from there. Where is chance, there is a chance. I don’t mind stranded to east as I believe I give it up to time and fate. Maybe my fate isn’t building a city anyway.”

 The young blacksmith drank the last drop on his glass, “Here, we celebrate life and dream. It is in my blood, passed by my old man and my old man’s old man. Besides, I always believe that chances are never a guarantee. And though I don’t understand the concept of fate, I would just use a longer word—Reason. Old brother Oleg there…,” as the young blacksmith pointed someone across the room, “…would just use the word ‘Revenge’. Life was so ruthless on him, lost all family members in a fire accident, left at the altar by his soon to be bride, lost all his money on a fraud, and almost eaten by a lion—some people would say it was a joke, but I still believe it was true.”

 “Then he takes a journey to revenge the life?”

 “Old brother Oleg came half of the world here, after discovering that he got good hands at metal. He said that he won’t take any step from the city gate until the Leader accepted him to be an apprentice. Amongst all choices that he could do, he decided to take revenge on life. He wants to be the best that one day, he would say to life to just, suck it!”

 The wanderer answered, “Could I just be as brave as him? It isn’t a gift, it doesn’t come to everyone.”

 “What I know, life is a gift, brother. Cherish it. Old brother Ahra has a compass back at his house; he used to be a sailor long before all of his ship shattered to pieces after hitting an iceberg. You could use it to find the dessert.”

 “Do you really believe I would find it? The dessert?”

 “How would the city look like?” the young blacksmith suddenly asked.

 The wanderer takes a long breath before answering, “It is a city that never sleeps. Simply because at night, the city dreams about what things that would happen tomorrow, or even the day after. At noon, the city carries those dreams beside every person of the city. That is why, it just could never sleep. There would be a bell tower at the central of the city, there would be a park and a pond. The bell will ring 24 times a day, there would be a song that would become a reminder that there wouldn’t be a limit above the ground. Sky isn’t a limit, it just another ground that floats. I will build a stadium. I promise a man named Knuckles back at the Great Kingdom that I would name it after him. A bakery, an ice flavored stall, a flower shop…”

 It took half an hour to get all the details laid up. The young blacksmith nodded, sometimes asking the question about what the color of the city gate and the number of the gardenia flower on the road to the red bean cookie stall.

 The young blacksmith smiled after the last sentence. “You remember every detail of the city as if it never leaves your life. Admit it, you’re not ready to giving up. That is all I need to believe that you will find the dessert.”

 There is a certain motion in the wanderer’s stomach. It went up to his consciousness, and finally his sanity. He remembered the first reason of his journey and the last reason to give up

 “Carrying a big dream like that would require a really big heart and energy after all, maybe you just really need a vacation.”

 The wanderer raised his eyebrows, “Vacation? That would be the last thing I know in life.”

 “Yeah, a little detour might do. Like this city, not a quite a city you would like to have in a vacation. But, sometimes it gives a clear idea what you really want to do next and what you don’t want to. I will draw you a map to Imperial and Höfn. The city of Imperial has a great food and great party every other night. If you can reach it in three days, there will certainly be a big feast on the central park, celebrating the third full moon,” the young blacksmith began to sketch a route map after grabbed a pencil on the desk. “And the city of Höfn—oh I love this city. It has a beach and a port, you can do many trading. Best quality goods are all lined up. Ah, there is also a firework festival this month. You should stay there couple of days, I will join you at the festival, it is too good to be missed. Last year, Brother Francis got a crush on a bakery lady, he got married, and already expected his first child this month.”

 As the night slowly creeps out, the atmosphere heated up. The blacksmiths took turns in works, there is a certain rule to the maximum hours of work every three hours. The wanderer insisted to see the blacksmith workplace, as they called it The Bunker. Seeing where the metals came alive.

 When the morning arrived, the young blacksmith walked the wanderer to the city gate. He entrusted the compass from Ahra and some metals to trade in another city, “A city that never sleeps. You should try to find a name”.

The wanderer laugh, “Actually, I did. It wouldn’t be much a surprise if I tell you right now. So, you just have to wait.”

They both smiled after that and parted when the sun greeted, leaving each other a fire that never dies.

Another rain and everything comes like slow motion. She never likes coffee, nor hanging in a coffee shop. She writes, you talks. He sings, you laugh. There is a time that she draws a line to things she wants to keep distance to. There is a place he wants to keep for himself, or for other fools to be drools by its beauty. There is.

Another lines, and another lies. Yet the rain is still pouring heavily. Bringing strangers to be a close friend. Bringing distance to be an enemy.

Yesterday, love was still an easy game to play. For those longing to be needed, you are loved. Home is where the earth stands, home is where the star is far, and home is here. You don’t need to seek love, love. You have plenty of it already.

I.

Di lorong sempit berwarna merah, banyak tujuan menggantung, banyak harapan  disajikan. Bersama para pejalan angkasa, dibagikannya suka cita di hati itu. Ada yang patah hati, ada yang menyambung hidup baru. Tapi langit tak pernah memilih. Ia terus memberi cinta pada tanah sang pengembara.

II.

Para pendoa tak pernah lupa bagaimana cara menghormat. Diasapi dan dibasahi. Para pendoa memukul lonceng kemudian membungkuk berkali-kali. Para pendoa tak pernah lupa bagaimana cara menghormat. Apa kita hanya tahu cara mengepal dan berteriak. Tersambut malu aku dan kamu, hari ini juga hormat dibungkukkan.

For a color to be a judgement, I agree it might be a little harsh. But your act resembles carelessness and immaturity. For your life might be short, like mine, let’s see how long that fragrance will last.