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English to Indonesian: Brochure for Literary Festival General field: Marketing Detailed field: Advertising / Public Relations
Source text - English The Ubud Writers and Readers Festival has, in the five years since its establishment, become Indonesia’s premier meeting point for authors, translators, and publishers. The Festival serves as a hothouse for ideas about publishing and a springboard for the introduction of foreign writers to the Indonesian audience and for Indonesian writers to the international world.
In conjunction with the upcoming 2008 Ubud Writers and Readers Festival, the Indonesian Publishers Association (IKAPI), in association with the Lontar Foundation and the Association of Indonesian Translators (HPI), will host the “IKAPI International Publishing Forum.” This event will bring together publishers, editors, writers, translators, printers—key players in the publishing world from both Indonesia and abroad—to share their knowledge and, with the participants, seek solutions for some of the challenges that beset this creative industry.
Translation - Indonesian Dalam waktu lima tahun sejak pertama kali diselenggarakan, Ubud Writers and Readers Festival telah menjadi tempat pertemuan terkemuka di Indonesia bagi para pengarang, penerjemah dan penerbit. Festival ini menjadi ajang penggodokan gagasan serta titik tolak untuk memperkenalkan penulis asing kepada sidang pembaca Indonesia dan pengarang Indonesia kepada dunia internasional.
Dalam rangka Ubud Writers and Readers Festival 2008, Ikatan Penerbit Indonesia (IKAPI), bekerja sama dengan Yayasan Obor, Yayasan Lontar dan Himpunan Penerjemah Indonesia (HPI), akan menyelenggarakan “Forum Penerbitan Antarbangsa.” Acara yang terdiri atas dua bagian ini akan mempertemukan para penerbit, penyunting, penerjemah, wakil percetakan—tokoh-tokoh kunci dunia penerbitan baik dari Indonesia maupun dari luar negeri—untuk berbagi pengetahuan dan, bersama para peserta, menggali solusi untuk beberapa persoalan yang dihadapi industri kreatif ini.
English to Indonesian: Tom Sawyer (by Mark Twain) General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - English THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER
BY
MARK TWAIN
(Samuel Langhorne Clemens)
P R E F A C E
MOST of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred; one or two were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who were schoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also, but not from an individual -- he is a combination of the characteristics of three boys whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order of architecture.
The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children and slaves in the West at the period of this story -- that is to say, thirty or forty years ago.
Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in.
THE AUTHOR.
HARTFORD, 1876.
T O M S A W Y E R
CHAPTER I
"TOM!"
No answer.
"TOM!"
No answer.
"What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!"
No answer.
The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom or never looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were her state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style," not service -- she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well. She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the furniture to hear:
"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll --"
She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat.
"I never did see the beat of that boy!"
She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and shouted:
"Y-o-u-u TOM!"
There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to seize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight.
"There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in there?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What IS that truck?"
"I don't know, aunt."
"Well, I know. It's jam -- that's what it is. Forty times I've said if you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch."
The switch hovered in the air -- the peril was desperate --
"My! Look behind you, aunt!"
The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and disappeared over it.
His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle laugh.
"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain'the played me tricks enough like that for me to be look ing out for him by this time? But old fools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks, as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days, and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just how long he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he can make out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all down again and I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy, and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile the child, as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for us both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he's my own dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lash him, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, man that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the Scripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, * and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make him work, to-morrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him work Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work more than he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him, or I'll be the ruination of the child."
Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time.
He got back home barely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day's wood and split the kindlings before supper -- at least he was there in time to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of the work. Tom's younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was already through with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a quiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways.
While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and very deep – for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments.
Like many other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low cunning. Said she:
"Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?"
"Yes'm."
"Powerful warm, warn't it?"
"Yes'm."
"Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?"
A bit of a scare shot through Tom -- a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said:
"No'm -- well, not very much."
The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said:
"But you ain't too warm now, though." And it flattered her to reflect that she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowing that that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knew where the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move:
"Some of us pumped on our heads -- mine's damp yet. See?"
Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick.
Then she had a new inspiration:
"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!"
The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. His shirt collar was securely sewed.
"Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookey and been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of a singed cat, as the saying is -- better'n you look. THIS time."
She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom had stumbled into obedient conduct for once.
But Sidney said:
"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, but it's black."
"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!"
But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said:
"Siddy, I'll lick you for that."
In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them -- one needle carried white thread and the other black. He said:
"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimes she sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish to gee-miny she'd stick to one or t'other -- I can't keep the run of 'em. But I bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!"
He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very well though -- and loathed him.
Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him than a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore them down and drove them out of his mind for the time -- just as men's misfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. This new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short intervals in the midst of the music -- the reader probably remembers how to do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet -- no doubt, as far as strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not the astronomer.
The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom checked his whistle. A stranger was before him -- a boy a shade larger than himself.
A new-comer of any age or either sex was an impressive curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boy was well dressed, too -- well dressed on a week-day. This was simply astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-
buttoned blue cloth roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes on -- and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of ribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. The more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his nose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed to him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved -- but only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all the time.
Finally Tom said:
"I can lick you!"
"I'd like to see you try it."
"Well, I can do it."
"No you can't, either."
"Yes I can."
"No you can't."
"I can."
"You can't."
"Can!"
"Can't!"
An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said:
"What's your name?"
"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe."
"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business."
"Well why don't you?"
"If you say much, I will."
"Much -- much -- MUCH. There now."
"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to."
"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it."
"Well I WILL, if you fool with me."
"Oh yes -- I've seen whole families in the same fix."
"Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!"
"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock it off -- and anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs."
"You're a liar!"
"You're another."
"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up."
"Aw -- take a walk!"
"Say -- if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a rock off'n your head."
"Oh, of COURSE you will."
"Well I WILL."
"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for? Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid."
"I AIN'T afraid."
"You are."
"I ain't."
"You are."
Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said: "Get away from here!"
"Go away yourself!"
"I won't."
"I won't either."
So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and both shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said:
"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and he can thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too."
"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's bigger than he is -- and what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too." [Both brothers were imaginary.]
"That's a lie."
"YOUR saying so don't make it so."
Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:
"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep."
The new boy stepped over promptly, and said: "Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it."
"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out."
"Well, you SAID you'd do it -- why don't you do it?"
"By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it."
The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out with derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boys were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; and for the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair and clothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and covered themselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and through the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and pounding him with his fists.
"Holler 'nuff!" said he.
The boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying -- mainly from rage.
"Holler 'nuff!" -- and the pounding went on.
At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him up and said:
"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next time."
The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing, snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head and threatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out."
To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, and as soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw it and hit him be-
tween the shoulders and then turned tail and ran like an antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the window and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called Tom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he went away; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy.
He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt; and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in its firmness.
Translation - Indonesian PETUALANGAN TOM SAWYER
OLEH
MARK TWAIN
(Samuel Langhorne Clemens)
PENGANTAR
SEBAGIAN besar petualangan yang diceritakan di dalam buku ini benar-benar terjadi; satu atau dua merupakan pengalaman saya sendiri, selebihnya dialami oleh teman-teman sekolah saya. Huck Finn menggambarkan seseorang yang memang ada; begitu pula Tom Sawyer, namun ia menggabungkan ciri-ciri tiga anak laki-laki yang pernah saya kenal, dan karenanya termasuk tokoh gabungan.
Berbagai takhyul yang disinggung di sini memang lazim ditemui di kalangan anak-anak dan budak belian di kawasan Barat pada saat kisah ini berlangsung – yaitu sekitar tiga puluh sampai empat puluh tahun lalu.
Walaupun buku ini ditujukan terutama untuk menghibur anak-anak, baik laki-laki maupun perempuan, saya berharap orang lain takkan menghindarinya karena pertimbangan itu, sebab saya pun bermaksud mengingatkan kembali orang-orang dewasa seperti apa mereka dahulu, bagaimana perasaan, pikiran dan cara bicara mereka waktu itu, dan sekonyol apa tingkah laku mereka terkadang.
PENGARANG
HARTFORD, 1876.
T O M S A W Y E R
BAB I
“TOM!”
Tak ada jawaban.
“TOM!”
Tak ada jawaban.
“Aduh, kenapa lagi itu anak? Hei, TOM!”
Tak ada jawaban.
Perempuan tua itu menurunkan kacamatanya dan melayangkan pandangan ke sekeliling ruangan sambil menunduk sedikit. Kemudian ia mengangkat kacamata dan memandang berkeliling sambil agak mendongak. Jarang sekali atau bahkan tidak pernah ia memandang MELALUI kacamatanya untuk urusan sepele seperti mencari anak laki-laki. Kacamata itu kacamata kebesarannya, kacamata kebanggaannya, yang dibuat dengan mengutamakan “gaya”, bukan kegunaan – penglihatannya akan sama terang seandainya ia memakai kacamata tanpa kaca. Sejenak ia tampak bingung, kemudian ia berkata dengan suara yang, meskipun tidak lantang, cukup keras untuk membuat perabotan bergetar,
“Hmm, awas saja, kalau sampai – “
Ucapannya tidak tuntas karena ia keburu membungkuk untuk menyodok-nyodokkan gagang sapu ke kolong tempat tidur dan napasnya habis terpakai untuk dengusan yang mengiringi setiap sodokan. Tetapi usaha itu hanya berhasil mengusir kucingnya.
“Ampun, itu anak!”
Ia menuju ke pintu yang terbuka, berdiri di ambang pintu, dan mengamati tanaman tomat dan semak-semak yang memenuhi kebun. Tidak ada siapa-siapa. Karena itu, sambil meninggikan suara agar terdengar sampai ke tempat yang jauh, ia berseru, “TO-O-OM!”
Di belakangnya terdengar bunyi kersak. Ia segera membalik dan masih sempat menyambar ujung jaket anak laki-laki yang hendak menyelinap.
“Ah! Mestinya kuingat lemari itu. Sedang apa kau di situ?”
“Bukan apa-apa, Bi.”
“Bukan apa-apa bagaimana?! Lihat tanganmu. Dan lihat mulutmu. Apa itu, coba?”
“Aku tidak tahu, Bi.”
“Tapi Bibi tahu. Itu selai – selai itu. Empat puluh kali sudah Bibi bilang, kalau kau terus mencuri selai, kau akan Bibi hukum. Sini, kemarikan tongkat itu.”
Tongkat sudah terangkat tinggi-tinggi – hukuman seakan tak terelakkan –
“Aduh! Awas, Bi, di belakang!”
Serta-merta perempuan tua itu membalik dan mengangkat rok untuk menghindar dari ancaman bahaya. Si bocah kabur seketika, memanjat pagar kayu yang tinggi, dan menghilang di baliknya.
Bibi Polly tertegun sejenak, lalu tertawa kecil.
“Aduh, itu anak, lagi-lagi aku kena tipu. Sudah begitu sering aku ditipu, mestinya aku sudah lebih waspada sekarang. Tapi apalah daya orang tua seperti aku. Pepatah pun bilang, anjing tua takkan bisa belajar permainan baru. Lagi pula, akalnya ada-ada saja dan tak pernah sama, jadi bagaimana orang bisa waspada? Sepertinya dia tahu persis apa saja yang bisa dia lakukan sebelum aku naik pitam, dan dia juga tahu kalau aku bisa dihalau semenit saja atau dibuat ketawa, aku pasti tak jadi marah dan tak jadi memukulnya. Aku terlalu baik kepada itu anak, dan demi Tuhan, memang begitu adanya. Tongkat disayang, anak terbuang, begitu tertulis dalam Kitab Suci. Oh, aku terus menumpuk dosa dan derita untuk kita berdua. Itu anak jailnya tak ada duanya, tapi bagaimana lagi – dia putra mendiang saudariku, dan entah kenapa aku tak sampai hati untuk memukulnya. Setiap kali aku membiarkannya lolos, nuraniku menjerit, tapi setiap kali aku memukulnya, hatiku serasa hancur. Yah, manusia yang lahir dari perempuan singkat umurnya dan penuh kegelisahan, begitulah dikisahkan, dan aku kira itu benar adanya. Dia pasti akan bolos dan keluyuran sampai sore, jadi terpaksa baru besok dia bisa kuhukum dengan disuruh bekerja. Sebetulnya aku tak tega menyuruh dia bekerja pada hari Sabtu, waktu semua anak lain libur, tapi dia paling tak suka disuruh bekerja, dan aku HARUS mengajari itu anak, atau akulah yang membuatnya rusak.”
Tom memang bolos dan keluyuran sampai sore. Ketika ia pulang, Jim, si bocah kulit hitam, sudah hampir selesai menggergaji kayu untuk besok dan membelah kayu bakar untuk makan malam – tetapi paling tidak Tom masih sempat menceritakan petualangannya kepada Jim. Sid, adik Tom (atau lebih tepat, adik tirinya), sudah selesai dengan tugasnya (mengumpulkan serpihan kayu), sebab ia anak yang tenang yang tidak suka bertualang maupun berulah macam-macam.
Sementara Tom makan malam, dan mencuri bongkahan gula batu setiap ada kesempatan, Bibi Polly mengajukan berbagai pertanyaan yang menurutnya cerdik dan penuh muslihat – sebab ia ingin menjebak Tom agar mengakui kenakalannya. Seperti umumnya orang-orang dengan jalan pikiran yang sederhana, ia merasa pandai bersiasat dan ia suka membanggakan akal-akalnya yang dangkal sebagai strategi ulung yang penuh tipu daya. Ia berkata:
“Tom, di sekolah tadi pasti lumayan panas, ya?
”Ya, Bi.”
“Lumayan panas sekali, ya?”
“Ya, Bi.”
“Kau tidak ingin pergi berenang tadi, Tom?”
Tom agak tersentak dan langsung was-was. Ia berusaha membaca wajah Bibi Polly, namun roman muka bibinya itu nampak biasa saja. Karena itu ia menyahut,
“Tidak, Bi – ehm, tidak juga.”
Perempuan tua itu menempelkan tangan ke kemeja Tom, lalu berujar,
“Tapi sepertinya kau tidak kepanasan.” Dan ia merasa senang karena berhasil memastikan bahwa kemeja Tom kering, tanpa ada yang mengetahui maksudnya yang tersembunyi itu. Namun kini Tom sudah bisa mencium gelagat. Karenanya ia mendahului Bibi Polly dengan berkata,
“Aku dan teman-teman pergi ke pompa air tadi untuk membanjur kepala. Rambutku masih basah. Lihat saja.”
Bibi Polly langsung merengut karena hal itu luput dari perhatiannya dan ia gagal memanfaatkan suatu kesempatan yang baik. Tetapi kemudian ia mendapat ilham baru:
“Tom, waktu kau membasahi kepala tadi, kau tak perlu melepas kerah baju yang sudah Bibi jahitkan, bukan? Coba buka jaketmu!”
Segala kesan cemas segera lenyap dari wajah Tom. Ia membuka jaket. Kerah bajunya masih terjahit dengan kuat di tempat semula.
“Wah! Tapi sudahlah. Tadinya Bibi yakin kau keluyuran tadi dan pergi berenang. Tapi Bibi memaafkanmu, Tom. Sepertinya kau lebih baik daripada yang Bibi duga – untuk kali INI.”
Ia setengah menyesal bahwa kecurigaannya ternyata tak beralasan, dan setengah bersyukur bahwa sekali ini Tom rupanya bisa bersikap patuh.
Tetapi Sidney berkata,
“Hmm, seingatku, Bibi pakai benang putih waktu pasang kerahnya, tapi sekarang benangnya hitam.”
“Astaga, aku memang memakai benang putih! Tom!”
Namun Tom tidak menunggu kelanjutannya. Sambil melesat keluar ia berseru,
“Awas, Siddy, nanti kubalas kau.”
Di suatu tempat aman Tom mengamati dua jarum jahit yang terpasang pada lipatan jasnya, masing-masing dengan sepotong benang – yang satu putih, yang satu lagi hitam. Ia berkata,
“Bibi takkan tahu kalau bukan gara-gara Sid. Sialan! Kadang-kadang dia pakai benang putih, kadang-kadang benang hitam. Kenapa dia tidak pakai salah satu saja terus – kalau begini aku yang kelabakan. Tapi yang pasti Sid akan kuhajar. Dia harus kuberi pelajaran!”
Ia bukanlah anak teladan di desanya. Si anak teladan dikenalnya dengan baik – dan dibencinya setengah mati.
Namun dalam dua menit saja, atau bahkan kurang dari itu, segala kesusahan telah dilupakannya. Bukan karena masalahnya kalah berat dan kalah pahit dari masalah orang dewasa, melainkan karena terdesak hal baru yang sangat menarik – sama seperti kesusahan orang dewasa tersingkirkan oleh gairah yang menyertai setiap usaha baru. Hal menarik ini adalah cara bersiul yang baru, yang belum lama dipelajarinya dari seorang laki-laki kulit hitam, dan ia sudah tak sabar untuk berlatih tanpa gangguan. Siulan itu menyerupai kicauan burung, yang dihasilkan dengan menempel-nempelkan ujung lidah ke langit-langit mulut secara cepat di tengah-tengah lagu – para pembaca mungkin masih ingat bagaimana caranya, jika mereka pernah kecil. Dalam waktu singkat ia dapat menguasai siulan itu berkat ketekunan dan kesungguhan, dan ia berjalan menyusuri jalan dengan mulut yang penuh harmoni dan dengan hati yang penuh suka cita. Ia merasa bagaikan ahli bintang yang baru saja menemukan planet baru – namun tak pelak lagi, dalam hal kegembiraan yang murni dan meluap-luap, ahli bintang bukanlah tandingan bocah itu.
Sore hari berlangsung lama di musim panas. Hari masih terang. Sekonyong-konyong Tom berhenti bersiul. Ia berhadapan dengan seseorang yang tak dikenalnya – seorang anak laki-laki yang sedikit lebih besar daripada ia sendiri.
Pendatang baru dari segala usia, baik laki-laki maupun perempuan, selalu menarik perhatian di desa kecil dan bersahaja seperti St. Petersburg. Apalagi anak baru itu berpakaian rapi – pada hari kerja. Ini benar-benar luar biasa. Topinya menawan, jaketnya yang terbuat dari kain biru tampak baru dan apik, begitu pula celananya. Ia mengenakan sepatu – padahal baru hari Jumat. Ia bahkan memakai dasi, sepotong pita berwarna cerah. Penampilannya seperti orang kota, dan ini membuat Tom terusik. Semakin lama Tom mengamati anak berbaju mewah itu, semakin kuat rasa tidak senang dalam dirinya, dan semakin sadar ia akan kesederhanaan bajunya sendiri. Kedua anak itu membisu. Setiap kali salah satu bergerak, yang lainnya bergerak pula – namun hanya menyamping, dalam lingkaran; mereka terus berhadapan dan beradu pandang. Akhirnya Tom berkata,
“Kuhajar kau!”
“Coba saja kalau berani.”
“Hah, apa susahnya?”
“Tak bakal bisa.”
“Pasti bisa.”
“Tak bakal.”
“Bisa.”
“Tidak.”
Keduanya terdiam. Kemudian Tom kembali angkat bicara,
”Siapa namamu?”
“Bukan urusanmu.”
“Kalau begitu, biar kujadikan urusanku.”
“Ayo, coba saja.”
“Boleh, kalau kau masih berani omong lagi.”
“Lagi – lagi – LAGI. Tuh.”
“Oh, mau jadi jagoan, ya? Kau bisa kuhajar dengan satu tangan diikat di belakang, kalau kumau.”
“Ayo, mana buktinya? Kau cuma banyak OMONG!”
“Awas, jangan main-main denganku.”
“Oh – aku jadi takut.”
“Sok jago! Kaupikir kau HEBAT, ya? Hah, lihat topimu.”
“Masa bodoh kalau kau tak suka. Coba saja kautepis, kalau berani – siapa yang berani tepis topiku akan tahu rasa.”
“Dasar tukang bual!”
“Kau yang pembual.”
“Tong kosong nyaring bunyinya.”
“Ah – pergi sana!”
“Awas – kalau kau masih banyak omong, kepalamu akan kutimpuk dengan batu.”
“Oh, pasti.”
“Lihat saja nanti.”
“Kalau begitu, ayolah! Kau cuma besar mulut. Ayo, kenapa diam saja? Soalnya kau takut.”
“Aku TIDAK takut.”
“Kau takut.”
“Tidak.”
“Memang.”
Hening lagi. Keduanya tetap saling melotot sambil bergerak memutar, sampai akhirnya beradu pundak. Tom berkata,
“Pergi sana!”
“Kau saja yang pergi!”
“Tidak mau.’
“Aku juga tidak mau.”
Dan mereka pun pasang kuda-kuda dan saling mendorong dengan seluruh tenaga sambil mendelikkan mata. Namun ternyata kekuatan mereka berimbang. Setelah beberapa waktu keduanya mulai letih dan bermuka merah, dan masing-masing mengendurkan sikapnya dengan berhati-hati. Tom berkata,
“Kau pengecut dan pembual. Nanti kupanggil kakakku, dan dia bisa menghajarmu dengan jari kelingking, tahu!”
“Peduli apa aku dengan kakakmu? Kakakku lebih besar dari kakakmu – dan asal tahu saja, kakakmu bisa dilemparnya ke seberang pagar.” (Sebenarnya, kedua kakak hanya ada dalam khayalan mereka.”
“Kau bohong.”
“Kata siapa?”
Tom menarik garis di tanah dengan ibu jari kakinya, lalu berkata,
“Kalau garis ini kaulangkahi, kau akan kuhajar sampai kau tak bisa berdiri. Kau akan kubuat menyesal kalau kau masih nekat juga.”
Si anak baru langsung saja melangkahi garis itu, dan berkata,
“Ayo, buktikan omonganmu.”
“Awas, hati-hati, jangan paksa aku.”
“Jangan omong saja – mana buktinya?”
“Sialan! Beri aku dua sen, dan kau akan kuhajar.”
Si anak baru merogoh kantong dan mengeluarkan dua keping uang, yang lalu disodorkannya sambil tersenyum mengejek. Tom segera menepis tangan lawannya sehingga uangnya terjatuh. Dalam sekejap kedua anak itu sudah berguling-guling di tanah sambil saling mencengkram seperti dua ekor kucing. Selama satu menit mereka saling menjambak dan menarik baju, saling memukul dan mencakar hidung lawan, sampai keduanya berselubung debu dan kejayaan. Lambat laun awan debu menepis, dan Tom terlihat menduduki si anak baru sambil menghujaninya dengan kepalan tinju. “Bilang cukup!” serunya.
Lawannya hanya meronta-ronta untuk membebaskan diri. Ia meneteskan air mata – terutama karena kesal.
“Bilang cukup!” Tom mengulangi sambil terus memukul.
Akhirnya si anak baru berseru tertahan “Cukup!” dan Tom melepaskannya dan berkata,
“Biar tahu rasa. Lain kali lihat-lihat dulu siapa lawanmu.”
Si anak baru pergi sambil menepis-nepis debu dari pakaiannya. Ia terisak-isak, dan sesekali menoleh ke belakang sambil menggelengkan kepala dan mengancam apa yang akan dilakukannya terhadap Tom “kalau ketemu lagi nanti.” Tom hanya mencemooh, lalu pergi dengan langkah ringan. Tetapi begitu ia berbalik, si anak baru memungut batu dan menimpuk punggung Tom, kemudian berputar dan mengambil langkah seribu. Tom mengejar lawannya sampai ke rumahnya, sehingga mengetahui tempat tinggalnya. Selama beberapa waktu ia berdiri di pintu pagar sambil menantang lawannya untuk keluar, tetapi si anak baru hanya mengejeknya dari balik jendela. Pada gilirannya justru ibu anak itu yang muncul dan memarahi Tom sebagai anak yang nakal, jahat dan bandel, dan menyuruhnya pergi. Tom pun berlalu, tetapi dalam hati ia bersumpah akan memberi pelajaran kepada anak itu.
Hari sudah berganti malam ketika ia sampai di rumah, dan sewaktu ia diam-diam memanjat masuk lewat jendela, ia mendapatkan dirinya terjebak oleh bibinya; dan ketika Bibi Polly melihat keadaan baju Tom, maka niatnya untuk menjadikan libur Sabtu sebagai saat hukuman kerja paksa pun menjadi kokoh bagaikan batu karang.
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Years of experience: 38. Registered at ProZ.com: May 2005.
Hendarto is a translator who was born and raised in Germany and spent the first 13 years of his life totally immersed in the German language and culture. After learning Bahasa Indonesia upon moving to Indonesia, in 1986 he eventually became a professional translator with Indonesian, German, and English as his working languages.
To date, he worked on hundreds of projects and produced millions of translated words for numerous clients across the globe, ranging from corporations, government institutions, and not-for-profit organizations. He specializes in the fields of hospitality, management, games and entertainment, film and TV, environment, culture, and books. For his high quality work, Hendarto has received an Award of Appreciation from Gramedia Pustaka Utama, the largest publishing house in Indonesia.
For Hendarto, translation is not about word-for-word equivalence. Its purpose is to transmit the original message as intended by the writer and rendering it faithfully in a different language. For that reason, in-depth knowledge regarding the context of any translation project is of utmost importance, starting with the purpose of writing, the writer’s unique style, and even up to the personality of a fictional character in a novel.
