A bowl of soup sat in silence. Smoke still vaporized over the surface of the soup although it was not very noticeable. There were pieces of carrot shaped like flower petals. Only two pieces, no more. In addition, there was a sprinkling of celery leaves cut into small pieces, but no one was tempted by its distinctive aroma.
The soup still hadn't been touched at all. Next to the soup bowl was a glass filled with hot tea that was also left sitting. The silence in the living room was made even stronger by the presence of an old vase placed in the center of the table where the soup and hot tea were. A mini vase with a bluish floral pattern from the 70s, which had several long cracks and synthetic roses that looked shabby and faded.
Not far from the table, a man stood still, facing the window, his eyes straight ahead and gazing into the unknown. He was an old man, with a grayish sweatshirt, and a face that had many stories to tell. His eyes looked sad and fragile. His gaze went through the window, into the past, through the snowfall that brought down ice flowers.
He stood there for almost half an hour, in the dimly lit atmosphere. The old man was far away from the fireplace. He preferred to stand there, watching the ice blossoms brought down by the snow fall slowly, piling up on his yard and fence. Next to his house was his old sedan, which was no longer drivable. It had been sitting there for about four years. It had become a wreck and was now also covered in snow.
Between the table and the old man, right in the corner of the living room, on the pole where a black fedora was hooked, hung a dark yellow women's blazer. It looked like it had been hanging there for a very long time. If you took about two steps back from where the blazer was hung, when you looked up, you would see an A2 frame-sized photograph.
Inside the frame, a couple-husband and wife-stood in a pose holding hands and looking at the camera with a sincere smile. They are dressed in wedding clothes. It looks like they just got married: the man is wearing a black tuxedo while the woman is wearing Ball Grown, with a blooming skirt. Both have their backs to a maroon-colored background.
"...riiiing," a moment later the phone rang, breaking the old man's reverie.
At first the old man tried not to care until the phone on the wall of the hallway leading to the main room of the house rang again and sounded insistent. With steps that looked a little lazy, the old man headed to the place where the phone was located.
"Hello...," the old man said in a questioning tone.
"...Fritz?"
"Is that you, Fritz?"
"...oh my God!"
"...I'm glad to hear that you're still alive."
The voice of a man on the other end of the line sounded persistent and without pause.
"...hey, it's me Burk."
"You remember me?"
The old man was still trying to guess who the person named Burk was. His age had eaten away some of his memory. He was still trying to remember until his forehead creased in the dark hallway of the room.
"...Burk The fast," continued the voice on the other end of the line.
"...remember?"
"...the war on the Hill of Ave Mantiaz?"
"...Burk?" the old man now seemed to be smiling in the dark.
"...yes, that's right. Who else could it be?"
"...Is that you?"
"That's right, my friend Fritz. It's me, Burk. Tom Burkason, ha-ha."
"Hey, are you still living at your old address, Fritz?" asked the man on the other side of the phone.
If you listened carefully, it seemed that the ages of these two people were not far apart.
"...yes, of course," Fritz replied.
"...in Dertkall City?"
"...yes, Dertkall City. My one and only beloved city and hometown," Fritz tried to joke.
Burk was heard laughing and then coughed a little. He seemed to be stroking his own chest on the other side of the phone and took a deep breath.
"...we are old machines, Fritz," it was Burk's turn to try to joke. He seemed to have 'made peace' with age. As well as all the consequences that age and youth brings.
"...You know, I happened to be in your town, Fritz. In Dertkall City," Burk said.
"...oh yeah? Really?" Fritz was curious.
"...What the h*ll else are you doing Burk? You are currently thousands of kilometers away from your home," Fritz said.
Burk laughed again.
"You know, I'll stop by your house, Fritz," Burk said.
"Would your wife mind if I brought a bottle of body warmer to your house," Burk asked. He sounded excited.
Fritz was silent for a moment.
Burk too. Burk waited.
"...My wife is gone, Burk. Five years ago," Fritz sounded cold.
Burk felt guilty. He apologized.
"...hey, it doesn't matter. Don't feel bad. I've been through a long period of mourning too," Fritz felt that he had made things awkward.
"...you know, I just made a delicious and savory soup. It's perfect for a snowy day like this," Fritz wanted to cheer things up.
"...oh yeah? My pleasure, Fritz," Burk accepted his friend's offer.
"Hey, Burk...," Fritz said before hanging up.
"What...?"
"...don't forget to bring a bottle of body warmer like you promised," Fritz said.
"...oh, ha-ha-ha. Of course, I will. Prepare your best table, Fritz," Burk and Fritz hung up on each other.
After a while, there was silence again. The soup and hot tea on Fritz's table had gone cold. Meanwhile, the snow was getting stronger outside. There was no way Burk could have come in those conditions. A blizzard hit the city for almost two weeks afterward.
Semangkuk sup tampak terduduk di dalam kesunyian. Asap masih menguap di atas permukaan sup tersebut kendati tidak terlalu kentara. Ada potongan wortel yang dibentuk sedemikian rupa seperti kelopak bunga. Hanya dua potong saja, tidak lebih. Selain itu, ada taburan daun seledri yang dipotong kecil-kecil di sana, namun tidak ada yang tergoda oleh aromanya yang khas.
Sup itu masih belum disentuh sama sekali. Di samping mangkuk sup terdapat sebuah gelas berisi teh hangat yang juga dibiarkan terduduk. Keheningan di ruang tengah itu pun semakin kuat dengan keberadaan sebuah vas tua yang ditaruh di tengah meja di mana sup dan teh hangat itu berada. Sebuah mini vas bercorak floral kebiruan dari tahun 70an, yang memiliki beberapa retakan memanjang serta serta bunga mawar sintetis yang tampak lusuh dan memudar.
Tidak jauh dari meja tersebut, seorang lelaki tampak mematung, menghadap ke jendela, mengarahkan matanya lurus ke depan dan menerawang ke tempat yang tidak satu pun orang tahu. Ia adalah lelaki tua, dengan baju hangat keabu-abuan, dan wajah yang memiliki banyak cerita. Matanya terlihat sayu dan rapuh. Pandangannya menembus jendela, menuju ke masa lalu, menembus hujan salju yang menurunkan bunga-bunga es.
Ia mematung di sana hampir setengah jam lamanya, di dalam suasana yang remang-remang. Lelaki tua itu jauh dari perapian. Ia lebih memilih berdiri di sana, melihat bunga-bunga es yang diturunkan oleh salju itu jatuh perlahan, menumpuk di halaman dan pagar rumahnya. Di samping rumahnya terparkir mobil sedan tua miliknya yang sudah tidak bisa dibawa berkendara. Ia sudah terduduk di sana sekitar empat tahun. Menjadi rongsokan dan kini juga dihinggapi oleh tumpukan salju.
Di antara meja dan laki-laki tua tersebut, tepat di sudut ruang tengah, pada tiang di mana sebuah fedora hitam disangkut, menggantung sebuah blazer perempuan warna kuning tua. Sepertinya blazer itu sudah digantung di sana sangat lama. Seandainya mundur sekitar dua langkah dari blazer itu digantung, saat mendongak ke atas akan tampak sebuah foto berukuran bingkai A2.
Di dalam bingkai tersebut tampak sepasang kekasih—suami istri—berdiri dengan pose saling menggenggam tangan serta melihat ke kamera dengan senyum yang ikhlas. Mereka dibalut baju pengantin. Sepertinya mereka baru saja menikah: yang laki-laki mengenakan tuxedo hitam sementara yang perempuan mengenakan Ball Grown, dengan rok yang mekar. Keduanya membelakangi latar berwarna merah marun.
"...riiiing," sesaat kemudian telepon berdering, membuyarkan lamunan lelaki tua tersebut.
Awalnya lelaki tua itu berusaha untuk tidak ambil peduli sampai telepon yang ada di dinding lorong menuju kamar utama rumah itu kembali berdering dan terdengar memaksa. Dengan langkah yang terlihat agak malas, lelaki tua itu pun menuju ke tempat di mana telepon tersebut berada.
"Halo...," ucap si lelaki tua dengan nada kalimat bertanya.
"...Fritz?"
"...kaukah itu, Fritz?"
"...oh Tuhan!"
"...aku senang mendengar ternyata kau masih hidup."
Suara seorang lelaki di seberang telepon terdengar bertubi-tubi dan tanpa jeda.
"...hei, ini aku Burk."
"...kau ingat aku?"
Lelaki tua itu masih berusaha menerka-nerka siapakah gerangan orang bernama Burk. Umurnya telah memakan sebagian dari ingatannya. Ia masih berusaha mengingat sampai keningnya berkerut di dalam gelapnya lorong dari ruangan itu.
"...Burk si cepat," lanjut suara dari balik telepon.
"...ingat?"
"...perang di bukit Ave Mantiaz?"
"...Burk???" kini lelaki tua itu tampak semringah di dalam gelap.
"...ya, betul. Memangnya siapa lagi?"
"...kaukah itu?"
"...betul sekali, temanku Fritz. Ini aku."
"Hei, kau masih tinggal di alamatmu yang dulu, Fritz?" tanya lelaki di seberang telepon. Jika didengar dengan saksama, sepertinya umur kedua orang ini tidak terpaut jauh.
"...iya, tentu saja," jawab Fritz.
"...di Dertkall City?"
"...ya, Dertkall City. Satu-satunya kota dan kampung halamanku tercinta," Fritz mencoba bercanda.
Burk terdengar tertawa dan kemudian terbatuk sedikit. Ia sepertinya sedang mengelus dadanya sendiri di seberang telepon dan mengambil waktu menghela napas panjang.
"...kita ini mesin tua, Fritz. Harap maklum," kini giliran Burk yang mencoba bercanda. Ia sepertinya telah berdamai dengan umur. Juga segala konsekuensi yang diberikan oleh umur dan masa mudanya yang penuh foya-foya.
"...kau tahu, aku kebetulan sedang berada di kotamu, Fritz. Di Dertkall City," kata Burk.
"...oh iya? Benarkah?" Fritz penasaran.
"...hal terkutuk apa lagi yang kau lakukan Burk? Kau saat ini berada ribuan kilometer jauhnya dari rumahmu," kata Fritz.
Burk lagi-lagi tertawa.
"Kau tahu, aku akan singgah ke rumahmu, Fritz," kata Burk.
"Apakah istrimu akan keberatan jika aku membawa sebotol penghangat tubuh ke rumahmu," tanya Burk. Ia terdengar bersemangat.
Fritz terdiam sesaat.
Burk juga. Burk menunggu.
"...Istriku sudah tiada, Burk. Lima tahun yang lalu," Fritz terdengar dingin.
Burk merasa bersalah. Ia meminta maaf.
"...hei, itu tidak masalah. Jangan merasa tidak enak. Aku juga sudah lama melewati masa berkabung," Fritz merasa telah membuat suasana menjadi kikuk.
"...kau tahu, aku baru saja memasak sup yang lezat dan gurih. Cocok untuk suasana bersalju seperti ini," Fritz ingin membuat suasana kembali ceria.
"...oh iya? Dengan senang hati, Fritz," Burk menyambut tawatan temannya.
"Hei, Burk...," ujar Fritz sebelum menutup telepon.
"Apa...?"
"...jangan lupa bawa sebotol penghangat tubuh seperti yang kau janjikan tadi," kata Fritz.
"...oh, ha-ha-ha. Pasti. Siapkan meja terbaikmu, Fritz," Burk dan Fritz pun saling menutup telepon.
Sesaat kemudian, suasana kembali hening. Sup dan teh hangat di atas meja Fritz sudah dingin. Sementara itu, di luar sana salju semakin kuat. Burk mana mungkin bisa datang dalam kondisi seperti itu. Badai salju menerpa kota tersebut selama hampir dua pekan kemudian.
⍟⍟⍟
Note: the original manuscript was written in Indonesian, translated into English using DeepL application
Very touching story 🥺
Thanks, 🙏
🙏 thanks