Rabu, 16 April 2014
Jumat, 11 April 2014
The Journey of Nathan Hall (3)
Chapter Three
You know, I remember My father telling me something before he released me here. It's a little grey but I still remember his exact words. He told me, "Son, some people are rotten but the lucky ones are given the exclusive one way ticket to redeem their mistakes. The one chance to make up for their sins and lost cause." And when I ask why, My dad simply said, "It's because some people deserve a second chance."
My father's words were indeed very noble, even more noble than the words of a priest or holy man, but it's already obvious that I am no saint. I am simply a plain human being that gets furious when seeing injustice and seeing these people which had committed murder staying here rather than prison sell, is my version of injustice.
I later sat together with Robert on the east side of the cafeteria. Far away from the people I hate and fear at the same time. I gazed down at my plate. I don't know if the food on my plate is nutritious and delicious, or rubbish that can make you vomit. But then I saw Robert giving me a small smile, an indication that this food is not garbage.
Yet I have never eaten food from a garbage can but I can assure you that some menu here is much much horrible than garbage.
I watched Robert munched his potato salad and chicken wings. He's eating like he never ate before. But even though I am hungry and my stomach growls loud like the sound of steam puffing out of a steamroller, but all I did is play my food with my plastic fork.
And Robert noticed me. "Is something wrong, Nathan? Is the food not okay?"
I shook my head and answered with a sign. "No, it's not that."
Robert stopped eating for a while and stared right at me. I stare back, but his glare was sharper that a dagger. "Oh, My God!" Robert snapped. "You're thinking of them again, aren't you? About the people here who committed murder? You should stop thinking about them, Nathan. No good with come to that if you keep continuing, the only thing you will get - is a stab in the back with a knife." Robert said. "Those people are lunatics, it's better if you and I keep our distances from them!"
"No, Robert!" I yelled at him. The patients at the cafeteria was attracted with my sudden tone, they stared at our table for a while before continue gobble down their food. Then I continue with my sound low, close to a whisper. "Robert, you have known me for 5 years now, and you well know that I can't stand injustice!"
"Yes, I'm with you on that, but ... but why are you making such a fuss about it?"
"Bloody hell, Robert!" I yelled with a low pitch. "You just don't understand what I'm feeling through right now. How my mere emotions are swinging to a condemned madness. I can't control it! They deserve to die more than anyone in the world!"
I observed Robert's face of resisting his hand to blow a hard punch at me. He took a deep breath, then said something that really made my heart stop. A beat to late. "Nathan, do you know the story of a patient here, named Nigel Alexandria?"
"Of course," I answer with a hard gulp on my throat. "You told me about him two months ago, he was a serial killer who killed 50 people back then before they sent him here ten years ago, before even I was here. So, what about him?"
Robert looked at both his shoulder before answering my question as if someone was overhearing our conversation, but there was no one paying a slight of attention at us. They are all too busy filling their mouth.
Then Robert finally answered my question. "Yes, but I haven't told you about who his victims were, have I? Nathan, the serial killer named Nigel Alexandria killed people who were committed of first and second degree murder. But when the police finally caught up to him, he was condemn here because he was plain nuts. And even after he was locked up in chains, he still didn't stop killing soil blood. For two years, he had killed 20 "murder" patients who were in here.But ... few months later, something happened"
"Dear lord!" My breath held in my throat. "What happened to him?!"
"Well, one night I heard a loud scream outside my room. I quickly got out of bed and tried to open my room door, but it was midnight and the guards already locked all of the patients room. So, I then look through the small window placed on the door, and then I saw him. Nigel Alexandria, being dragged by two dark uniform guards. I can hear him screaming louder and louder, the sound of his nails screeching the floor with trails of thick blood. And the last thing I saw was ... Nigel entering a bright room, and inside ... there was a doctor. I didn't see his face, but I'm sure that he was a doctor because of the cloths he was wearing. After that, the door slammed shut." Robert then stopped and took a breath before continuing. "The next day, I walked by his room and discovered Nigel's room was cleaned out. All of his stuff was gone. And the trail of blood I saw yesterday .... vanished as if nothing had happened. I don't know what happened, I nor all the other patient knew what happened to him that night. But ... it'll be better off for me if I didn't know."
I feel like the air inside my lungs were sucked out. I couldn't breath by the fact that this really troubles me. What happened to Nigel Alexandria was horrific, and the doctor Robert saw, heighten the horror story. A dozen questions pops in my mind. What happened to him? What did the doctor do to him? Why did the guards drag him out of his room at the middle of the night? And most importantly ... Is he still alive?
Now I know, this asylum, Thiamisis mental hospital, holds many dark mystery and secrets that is yet to be unfolded.
Before I could find an answer to one of those questions, Robert suddenly said, "You know, Nigel was ... a little like you, Nathan."
I was totally in shock. "How so? And what do you mean, Robert?" I asked.
"He was kind of a antihero," Robert said. "Like you, he also holds firm with his own version of justice. Nigel believed that he was sent here by God himself to cleanse the earth form murderers who got away. He believed that their true place in this world ... is hell. But different from you, Nathan, he already did the unthinkable. He took many lives believing in his justice. And now ... he is neither dead nor dying. Neither alive either. He became a myth here. A local tale of horror."
Robert then suddenly stopped and exhaled. "And ... I fear that Nigel's life ... will eventually become your life, Nathan, if your still hard and stubborn on believing that those people deserve to die."
My God! I screamed in my mind. I don't want to end up like Nigel Alexandria. He his a bloody killer eaten by his own thoughts. But, the possibilities aren't completely gone. The question still stands strong. Am I going to be like Nigel? Am I simply a ticking time bomb waiting to explode?
You know, I remember My father telling me something before he released me here. It's a little grey but I still remember his exact words. He told me, "Son, some people are rotten but the lucky ones are given the exclusive one way ticket to redeem their mistakes. The one chance to make up for their sins and lost cause." And when I ask why, My dad simply said, "It's because some people deserve a second chance."
My father's words were indeed very noble, even more noble than the words of a priest or holy man, but it's already obvious that I am no saint. I am simply a plain human being that gets furious when seeing injustice and seeing these people which had committed murder staying here rather than prison sell, is my version of injustice.
I later sat together with Robert on the east side of the cafeteria. Far away from the people I hate and fear at the same time. I gazed down at my plate. I don't know if the food on my plate is nutritious and delicious, or rubbish that can make you vomit. But then I saw Robert giving me a small smile, an indication that this food is not garbage.
Yet I have never eaten food from a garbage can but I can assure you that some menu here is much much horrible than garbage.
I watched Robert munched his potato salad and chicken wings. He's eating like he never ate before. But even though I am hungry and my stomach growls loud like the sound of steam puffing out of a steamroller, but all I did is play my food with my plastic fork.
And Robert noticed me. "Is something wrong, Nathan? Is the food not okay?"
I shook my head and answered with a sign. "No, it's not that."
Robert stopped eating for a while and stared right at me. I stare back, but his glare was sharper that a dagger. "Oh, My God!" Robert snapped. "You're thinking of them again, aren't you? About the people here who committed murder? You should stop thinking about them, Nathan. No good with come to that if you keep continuing, the only thing you will get - is a stab in the back with a knife." Robert said. "Those people are lunatics, it's better if you and I keep our distances from them!"
"No, Robert!" I yelled at him. The patients at the cafeteria was attracted with my sudden tone, they stared at our table for a while before continue gobble down their food. Then I continue with my sound low, close to a whisper. "Robert, you have known me for 5 years now, and you well know that I can't stand injustice!"
"Yes, I'm with you on that, but ... but why are you making such a fuss about it?"
"Bloody hell, Robert!" I yelled with a low pitch. "You just don't understand what I'm feeling through right now. How my mere emotions are swinging to a condemned madness. I can't control it! They deserve to die more than anyone in the world!"
I observed Robert's face of resisting his hand to blow a hard punch at me. He took a deep breath, then said something that really made my heart stop. A beat to late. "Nathan, do you know the story of a patient here, named Nigel Alexandria?"
"Of course," I answer with a hard gulp on my throat. "You told me about him two months ago, he was a serial killer who killed 50 people back then before they sent him here ten years ago, before even I was here. So, what about him?"
Robert looked at both his shoulder before answering my question as if someone was overhearing our conversation, but there was no one paying a slight of attention at us. They are all too busy filling their mouth.
Then Robert finally answered my question. "Yes, but I haven't told you about who his victims were, have I? Nathan, the serial killer named Nigel Alexandria killed people who were committed of first and second degree murder. But when the police finally caught up to him, he was condemn here because he was plain nuts. And even after he was locked up in chains, he still didn't stop killing soil blood. For two years, he had killed 20 "murder" patients who were in here.But ... few months later, something happened"
"Dear lord!" My breath held in my throat. "What happened to him?!"
"Well, one night I heard a loud scream outside my room. I quickly got out of bed and tried to open my room door, but it was midnight and the guards already locked all of the patients room. So, I then look through the small window placed on the door, and then I saw him. Nigel Alexandria, being dragged by two dark uniform guards. I can hear him screaming louder and louder, the sound of his nails screeching the floor with trails of thick blood. And the last thing I saw was ... Nigel entering a bright room, and inside ... there was a doctor. I didn't see his face, but I'm sure that he was a doctor because of the cloths he was wearing. After that, the door slammed shut." Robert then stopped and took a breath before continuing. "The next day, I walked by his room and discovered Nigel's room was cleaned out. All of his stuff was gone. And the trail of blood I saw yesterday .... vanished as if nothing had happened. I don't know what happened, I nor all the other patient knew what happened to him that night. But ... it'll be better off for me if I didn't know."
I feel like the air inside my lungs were sucked out. I couldn't breath by the fact that this really troubles me. What happened to Nigel Alexandria was horrific, and the doctor Robert saw, heighten the horror story. A dozen questions pops in my mind. What happened to him? What did the doctor do to him? Why did the guards drag him out of his room at the middle of the night? And most importantly ... Is he still alive?
Now I know, this asylum, Thiamisis mental hospital, holds many dark mystery and secrets that is yet to be unfolded.
Before I could find an answer to one of those questions, Robert suddenly said, "You know, Nigel was ... a little like you, Nathan."
I was totally in shock. "How so? And what do you mean, Robert?" I asked.
"He was kind of a antihero," Robert said. "Like you, he also holds firm with his own version of justice. Nigel believed that he was sent here by God himself to cleanse the earth form murderers who got away. He believed that their true place in this world ... is hell. But different from you, Nathan, he already did the unthinkable. He took many lives believing in his justice. And now ... he is neither dead nor dying. Neither alive either. He became a myth here. A local tale of horror."
Robert then suddenly stopped and exhaled. "And ... I fear that Nigel's life ... will eventually become your life, Nathan, if your still hard and stubborn on believing that those people deserve to die."
My God! I screamed in my mind. I don't want to end up like Nigel Alexandria. He his a bloody killer eaten by his own thoughts. But, the possibilities aren't completely gone. The question still stands strong. Am I going to be like Nigel? Am I simply a ticking time bomb waiting to explode?
Rabu, 09 April 2014
The Journey of Nathan Hall (2)
Chapter 2
Nothing is ever easy here.
Everything inside these concrete walls are either a burden or making you go insane. Trust me I know, and I have tasted the bitterness of a place like this. For me, only staying inside my room is the thing that can avoid me from the black abyss the asylum holds. But very different from me, Robert has his own ways of precluding those things from his mind. And that is his daughter.
Robert once showed me a picture of her. She was absolutely beautiful, I can tell you that. Blonde hair, adequate height, and sparks a lovable smile. Robert told me that having her was the happiest thing that ever happened to him. Robert usually calls her Sunflower because of her yellow like sunflower hair. He never mentioned her real name. She is now eighteen and lives in Washington. Well, at least that's what Robert told me.
And not hearing her voice will totally make Robert loose his mind. While he is kind man, but his soul is unstable. The only thing that keeps him awake and to continue his life is a vision of the one day that he would see his daughter again. I don't quite understand this but I guess It's a father and daughter thing.
"Robert," I say with a persevere tone. "Are you alright?"
He looks like a pale horse as he walks to sit on my bunk bed. "Nathan," he says and suddenly ask, "Do you ever miss your parents?"
It took me a while to find the answer deep in my head, and as the man I am, I simply answer, "I can't find the reason why I wouldn't miss them. Even though I hate them for putting me in an asylum, but I still miss them. Those are emotions that could never go away, even if you try your best to erase it."
"Then," Robert's voice was so low, I almost couldn't hear him saying, "You understand my feelings, right? How I yearn my daughter's voice for so long. I know I'm not a perfect father but I really do care for here. I ... I just could find a reason why she wouldn't answer any of my calls. Why ... Nathan? Why didn't She answer my call?"
I simply stay silent. Speechless to an answer less question.
"Maybe ..." Robert continue. Drops of tear start to well down from his cheeks. "Maybe My Sunflower doesn't want to see or hear Daddy voice again."
I really want to cheer him right now. But yet, I still stayed motionless and couldn't reach my arms to simply give him a small hug or some kind of gesture that indicates that I truly care. That went on until I heard a ringing sound of a bell outside Robert and my room.
Robert tap me on my right shoulder, and I am amazed that he could still paint a smile on his pale face. "Well, I guess we'll continue our conversation after this. We shouldn't be late for lunch and medicine."
Oh my God! I shout in fright in my mind. The last thing I want in this world is exiting my room. The outsides of my room door is completely a living hell. A nightmare that I don't want to walk through. But I couldn't stay in my room forever. I would starve to death if I didn't. Like a car needs petrol to run, I do too need energy to live.
Robert helps me walk out of the room, I slowly walk outside. Feeling the sting in my eyes as the corridor light was bright as ever. I walk behind Robert and we entered a room filled with people wear white shirt and pants. The sweet smell of chocolate growls my stomach.
We then waited in line in the cafeteria. While I waited, I sweep my sight on the people here. Patients that were positively and no doubt mental. But the one man I fear most is the one sitting alone at the chair placed at the corner of the room.
Almost everyone here has a nick name. Robert and I called her "Bloody Mary" but her real name is Sophie Winterglass. She is at her late twenty's. Her skin tone is as white as an elephants ivory. Her hair red and wavy like waves on Omaha beach. I don't know much about her but the stories Robert have told me is enough to make me mark her as one bloody lunatic killer. As in Robert's words, Sophie was thrown in here because She killed her husband back on summer 2006. But the court verdict finds Sophie crazy and having a delusional state of mind which made her compelled to kill her husband.
But I find the verdict hard to believe as I see her act and live like a normal person, or maybe everything is not as it's seems?
Sitting next to her is a bald latin man with tribal tatto on all over both his arms, and a long steel chain grips both of his legs. We call him "The Slayer." His real name is Jonathan Drive. Robert also told me to stay out of this lunatic's way as he was a serial killer before the police caught him and the court found him mentally unstable and decided to throw him in an asylum rather than a maximum security prison. But I know his craziness is just an act he did in front of the jury to escape imprisonment. In total, he killed 22 people for the course of 4 years. An unfair price I say for killing all those people. I would be much happier if this man was rotting inside a cold dark steel prison.
He doesn't deserve seeking sanctuary here. None of the killers do.
"Stop looking at them, Nathan." Robert whispers to me, my glare instantly slips. "Remember, you are suppose to avoid making enemies, not too make enemies." he says.
"But I can't stand it!" I say. "Those people are killers and they don't deserve to be here! They should be rotting in prison, not sitting here and enjoying a delicious chocolate latte! Come on I'm sure you agree with me, Robert, don't you?"
"I do, I do." he answers with a nod. "But what can you do? The reality is, they are here and not in prison. And nothing you can do can ever change that. And you shouldn't be so restless like this, I admit they are bloody murderers but a lion can do no harm if his fangs are revoked."
More likely, I think. Their fangs were not revoked, the lion's just shacked by metal chains so he couldn't kill his prey. If those shackles were to be removed, he couldn't hold the temptation of killing his prey. And people like us, are his prey.
Selasa, 08 April 2014
The Journey of Nathan Hall.
Chapter one.
My name is Nathan Hall, and as of today I have given the privilege to contact my family. This rarely occurs, especially if you are inside a place like me. My name is Nathan Hall and for five long years, I had lived in a rotting place that has become my sanctuary, a place called "Thiamisis Hospital".
A mental hospital.
I don't know the exact reason why my parents banished me to a hell hole like this, or maybe it's because I just don't remember the details. My life has been a mist ever since the beginning I got here. But it's obvious isn't it? Who would put a person -let alone a son- to a mental hospital if they are not crazy.
Today's Sunday. A special day for me and most of the patients here because today is the day we are given a chance to talk to our loved ones. Once every six months.
I had my concerns of calling my family. My father is a gentle humble man with a white beard, while my mother is a really polite person whom cares so much for people's feelings. But aside from their prophet like nature, if I do call them ... would they answer my call? It's most likely that they would but will it be awkward? I'm guessing a lot of emotion would breach out from my insides, especially anger.
They put me in a mental hospital ... their own son - so is it a sin if I'm angry?
While mostly other patients are busy and fighting for a telephone at the hall. I continued to rest in my bunk bed. Thinking. The only thing I could remember is a day before my parents threw me here. But it's mostly opaque images scrolling in my mind. The only thing that stands out is the smell of wet fish.
My father is a local fisherman in my hometown. A respected and well known fisherman who is the captain of his own tiny boat. My father would set sail before the first light of the sun even appears in the horizon and would come home in the evening when my Mom finished preparing dinner. At first I missed him a lot, but after the years passed, the routine occasion sinks away that feeling from my heart.
So, next thing I remember is My beloved father walking into our dinning room with his cloths reaking of dead fish. But, we didn't mind the smell. He sat at his chair and we had our filling for the night. A deep fried crispy tuna with cheese on top, my favorite meal in the world. After dinner, I climbed the stair way then entered my room. There wasn't much to see. My room is the typical boy's room -a single bed rested near the window and a study desk close to the door. And a small round red rug on the floor with some kind of star motif on the middle which I don't really get.
Back then I was fifteen-years-old, so like you, I had my curfew. It was ten p.m when I jumped to my comfy bed. For sometime I gazed to my ceiling. My brain didn't think of anything for a short while as if I was brain dead. My heart beats much slower, the pace ... bearable. And without even noticing, I dozed off to sleep.
But suddenly, I woke up. Cold sweet dripping from my forehead. My breath was heavy. Gasping for air as the room tries to suffocate me and waiting for me to die. As the air gushed inside both of my lungs, I smelled something horrible, something that makes me want to puke all over my bed.
The smell of blood.
I try hard to remember what happened next, but it feels too painful as if small needles were jabbing my head over and over again. And after that comes the mental block. A high invisible brick wall that suddenly appeared in my head. It's far to impossible to continue remembering what happened next.
My room door suddenly opened, and a small postured man enters with green radiating eyes. He's name is Robert Timberlake, my room mate. A thirty-three-year old man and a result of a mixed breeding race of Arabian and west European. Robert was here before me, so he automatically became slight of a teacher figure to me. Teaching me what to, or not to do. Telling me what food is delicious and what is plain rubbish. Isolating the pure psychopathic manic wanted for bloody murder from people like me. To tell you the truth, he is the main reason why I haven't been stabbed by one of those psycho's.
He is a good man really, it's a little confusing why a man like him is inside a place like this. He never told me the reason.
"Nathan," he calls me. "Why are you still in your room? Aren't you suppose to call your relatives?"
I took a deep breath and shook my head. "No, It's better if I didn't call them. I think they would be better off without knowing my state of condition. And It's likely I would get mad once I heard my parents voice." I answer. Slightly knowing that this might be a mistake. "So what about you, Robert? Have you called your daughter in Washington?" I ask.
He smiled, then resting his back on the cold concrete wall. "Yeah. She was ... she was happy that I called her." he answers. But from years living with him, I know the tone of Robert telling the truth or simply a lie.
"Really?" I double checked.
He hesitates for a few seconds. "Yes, she was laughing when I talked to her."
"Robert," I say. "Don't try to hide the truth from me, we have been room mates for years now, and I know you better than you think. You are lying. I don't need a genius to tell me that. So ... what happened when you called your daughter, Robert?"
The smile on his face instantly dissolves, and he tucked his lips into his mouth. A gesture of a person worrying about something, and I can slightly guess what's on Robert's mind right now. A burden inside Robert's mind compelling him to tell a lie.
"My daughter," he looks straight to me. I can see the trouble in his eyes. His voice close to a whisper. "She ... she didn't answer my call, Nathan. She never answered any of my calls."
My name is Nathan Hall, and as of today I have given the privilege to contact my family. This rarely occurs, especially if you are inside a place like me. My name is Nathan Hall and for five long years, I had lived in a rotting place that has become my sanctuary, a place called "Thiamisis Hospital".
A mental hospital.
I don't know the exact reason why my parents banished me to a hell hole like this, or maybe it's because I just don't remember the details. My life has been a mist ever since the beginning I got here. But it's obvious isn't it? Who would put a person -let alone a son- to a mental hospital if they are not crazy.
Today's Sunday. A special day for me and most of the patients here because today is the day we are given a chance to talk to our loved ones. Once every six months.
I had my concerns of calling my family. My father is a gentle humble man with a white beard, while my mother is a really polite person whom cares so much for people's feelings. But aside from their prophet like nature, if I do call them ... would they answer my call? It's most likely that they would but will it be awkward? I'm guessing a lot of emotion would breach out from my insides, especially anger.
They put me in a mental hospital ... their own son - so is it a sin if I'm angry?
While mostly other patients are busy and fighting for a telephone at the hall. I continued to rest in my bunk bed. Thinking. The only thing I could remember is a day before my parents threw me here. But it's mostly opaque images scrolling in my mind. The only thing that stands out is the smell of wet fish.
My father is a local fisherman in my hometown. A respected and well known fisherman who is the captain of his own tiny boat. My father would set sail before the first light of the sun even appears in the horizon and would come home in the evening when my Mom finished preparing dinner. At first I missed him a lot, but after the years passed, the routine occasion sinks away that feeling from my heart.
So, next thing I remember is My beloved father walking into our dinning room with his cloths reaking of dead fish. But, we didn't mind the smell. He sat at his chair and we had our filling for the night. A deep fried crispy tuna with cheese on top, my favorite meal in the world. After dinner, I climbed the stair way then entered my room. There wasn't much to see. My room is the typical boy's room -a single bed rested near the window and a study desk close to the door. And a small round red rug on the floor with some kind of star motif on the middle which I don't really get.
Back then I was fifteen-years-old, so like you, I had my curfew. It was ten p.m when I jumped to my comfy bed. For sometime I gazed to my ceiling. My brain didn't think of anything for a short while as if I was brain dead. My heart beats much slower, the pace ... bearable. And without even noticing, I dozed off to sleep.
But suddenly, I woke up. Cold sweet dripping from my forehead. My breath was heavy. Gasping for air as the room tries to suffocate me and waiting for me to die. As the air gushed inside both of my lungs, I smelled something horrible, something that makes me want to puke all over my bed.
The smell of blood.
I try hard to remember what happened next, but it feels too painful as if small needles were jabbing my head over and over again. And after that comes the mental block. A high invisible brick wall that suddenly appeared in my head. It's far to impossible to continue remembering what happened next.
My room door suddenly opened, and a small postured man enters with green radiating eyes. He's name is Robert Timberlake, my room mate. A thirty-three-year old man and a result of a mixed breeding race of Arabian and west European. Robert was here before me, so he automatically became slight of a teacher figure to me. Teaching me what to, or not to do. Telling me what food is delicious and what is plain rubbish. Isolating the pure psychopathic manic wanted for bloody murder from people like me. To tell you the truth, he is the main reason why I haven't been stabbed by one of those psycho's.
He is a good man really, it's a little confusing why a man like him is inside a place like this. He never told me the reason.
"Nathan," he calls me. "Why are you still in your room? Aren't you suppose to call your relatives?"
I took a deep breath and shook my head. "No, It's better if I didn't call them. I think they would be better off without knowing my state of condition. And It's likely I would get mad once I heard my parents voice." I answer. Slightly knowing that this might be a mistake. "So what about you, Robert? Have you called your daughter in Washington?" I ask.
He smiled, then resting his back on the cold concrete wall. "Yeah. She was ... she was happy that I called her." he answers. But from years living with him, I know the tone of Robert telling the truth or simply a lie.
"Really?" I double checked.
He hesitates for a few seconds. "Yes, she was laughing when I talked to her."
"Robert," I say. "Don't try to hide the truth from me, we have been room mates for years now, and I know you better than you think. You are lying. I don't need a genius to tell me that. So ... what happened when you called your daughter, Robert?"
The smile on his face instantly dissolves, and he tucked his lips into his mouth. A gesture of a person worrying about something, and I can slightly guess what's on Robert's mind right now. A burden inside Robert's mind compelling him to tell a lie.
"My daughter," he looks straight to me. I can see the trouble in his eyes. His voice close to a whisper. "She ... she didn't answer my call, Nathan. She never answered any of my calls."
Rabu, 02 April 2014
Madrigal dan Tornamen Gaia
BAB
1 (Permulaan cerita.)
Permulaan
waktu …
Kisah
lama menyangkut di angan-angan para pendongeng masa lalu, dimana mulut mereka
mengisahkan pertikaian antara yang tersuci melawan yang terbejat. Antara mahluk
suci yang bersinggah di awan-awan, dan mahluk jijik dan dusta yang tertelan di bawah
perut bumi.
Para
pendongeng bercerita, setiap waktu selalu, kisah sama yang terus menerus
diceritakan. Tidak ada perbedaan. Tidak ada alur cerita yang lain. Diceritakan
kejadian sebelum masa intelek Sir Issac Newton, sebelum berjayanya sang maestro
Leonardo Da Vinci, sebelum legenda Dewa-dewi Yunani kuno.
Kita
mungkin sudah membaca kisah pendongeng kuno ini. Atau mungkin sudah
mendengarnya. Kelas agama, mengingatkan kita betapa pentingnya kita meneguhkan
iman, betapa pentingnya untuk memilih jalan kehidupan …
Pendongeng
kuno ini, mengisahkan soal malaikat yang berperang melawan para iblis yang
terkutuk. Peperangan sengit yang telah selesai sebelum permulaan waktu, sebelum
ledakan besar. Antara mahluk bercahaya dengan mahluk gelap gulita.
Sang pendongeng bersemangat sekali
ketika setiap kali hendak memulai cerita, dia berdiri dengan kedua kakinya,
penonton yang bergumbul-gumbul terduduk tenang saat dia memulai ceritanya.
Ketika dia menyebut-nyebut nama Iblis, penonton merasa tercengang … tak mampu
bernapas.
Ya, memang betul, gestur sang pendongeng
ini, dimana dia mengenakan pakaian gaun hitam yang membentang hingga menutupi
jari-jari kakinya dan sebuah topi kerucut terbuat dari kulit sapi, serta topeng
kecil yang sekedar menutup mata dan hidungnya, sungguh membentuk atmosfirnya
tersendiri. Bahkan sebelum dia bercerita juga, kita semua merasakan tegang
duluan.
1938. Di antara kerumanan orang yang terobesi
oleh cerita-cerita malaikat dan iblis, Aku, seorang petani desa yang bekerja di
ladang kecil, berumur tiga-belas tahun, terus menyaksikan pendongeng ini
bercerita kisahnya. Aku tidak pernah bosan, tak pernah jenuh mendengarnya
menceritakan kisah yang sama berulang-ulang kali. Fantasiku semakin bertambah
setiap kali dia memberikan kisah.
Aku lekat-lekat memperhatikan pendongeng
bertopeng ini, sungguh mengagumkan. Dengan kata-kata, dia mampu menarik aku
kedalam suasana. Membuatku membayangkan diri, berfantasi soal malaikat dan
iblis.
Dalam hidupku, aku selalu yakin tentang
keadaanku. Aku yakin, bahwa aku sebenarnya bukan seorang petani dari sebuah
desa kecil. Dalam wadah mausia ini, aku tahu aku lebih daripada ini. Lebih dari
sebatas laki-laki saja. Sesungguhnya, aku terus berpikir tentang kemungkinan
apakah aku adalah seorang malaikat yang di masukan dalam wadah berbentuk
manusia?
Banyak orang seusiaku menyebutku bodoh,
menyebutku sebagai seorang petani yang banyak berkhayal yang tidak-tidak. Tapi
sungguh, aku tidak pernah merasa seyakin ini sebelumnya. Bahkan, kedua orang
tuaku saja di kala masih hidup, mengatakan aku memang terlalu banyak berkhayal.
Tidak
ada yang mendukung pemikiranku …
Maka aku sekarang berada disini,
menuliskan kisah ini demi membuat kalian yang merasa seperti diriku merasa
tidak sendirian. Biarkan yang ragu menghina pemikiranmu, biarkan mereka berkata
ini hanya fantasi gilamu. Tapi, ingat, aku telah membuktikan diriku.
Silahkan lanjutkan jika kalian ingin
tahu kelanjutan dari ceritaku, silahkan tutup buku jika menurut kalian aku
hanya mengada-ngada saja. Semua itu, ada di keputusan tangan kalian.
Baiklah, jika kau sudah memutuskan, aku
akan segera memulai ceritaku. Memulai kisah perjalananku menemukan jati diriku
sebagai seorang malaikat yang terpenjara dalam bentuk tubuh manusia ini.
*
* *
1941. Seingatku, waktu itu adalah beberapa
hari sebelum musim gugur tiba disini. Kampung halamanku adalah sebuah desa
kecil yang memiliki tanah ladang seluas mata memandang. Subur dan mengesankan
indah. Di mana bisa kau temukan petani yang tengah berkerja keras di siang
bolong demi mendapatkan hasil panen yang sebenarnya tidak seberapa. Rumah-rumah
kecil kami sungguh mencitrakan kehidupan sederhana yang harmonis dan penuh
senyum murah.
Daun-daun kering sedikit-demi-sedikit
mulai berjatuhan disini, di desa yang terletak di Pince, negara Perancis. Seharusnya
musim gugur ini kunikmati dengan bersenang-senang dan berlari-lari di ladang
milik petani tua. Tapi untukku, itu sesungguhnya hanya mimpi saja.
Perang berkecamuk di berbatasan wilayah
kami, dimana tank-tank baja menghancurkan kota-kota indah kami, dan
meriam-meriam berpeluru besar berjatuhan bak air hujan kehancuran. Nestapa
sungguh negara tercintaku. Aku tidak pernah membayangkan ini, kehidupan yang
selalu harus diselingi oleh berbagai macam latihan-latihan mendadak demi
mempersiapkan diri di kala militer Nazi menyerang tanah airku.
Latihannya sangat menyiksa tubuhku. Di
subuh hari, ketika aku tertidur lelap setelah bekerja seharian di ladang,
tiba-tiba suara sirene lantang menghantam gendang telingaku. Membuatku tersadar
dan terkesiap, dengan degupan jantung tak karuan.
Aku tinggal bersama seseorang pemilik
bar di desa Pince. Satu-satunya bar yang menyajikan hidangan lezat serta
minuman khas daerah sini. Oliver de Beauvoir, pemilik bar yang sedang dalam
masa pertengahannya –tiga-puluh-lima tahun, tiba-tiba mendobrak pintu kamar
kecilku tanpa mengetuk dulu.
Wajahnya meneteskan keringat, mata biru
lautnya terlihat gelisah, rambut yang biasanya terlihat rapi kini acak-acakan
sekali layaknya ombak ganas, pakaian kemeja kotak-kotaknya kumuh, tubuh
jangkungnya menunduk. Aku sudah tinggal disini kurang-lebih lima tahun setelah
kematian kedua orang tuaku dan sering menilik wajah Oliver, dan menurutku dia
memang orang yang mudah sekali panik. Mendengar sirene bersuara saja, dia sudah
berlari lunggang-langgang ke kamarku dengan wajah pucat pasi. Tetapi, saat aku
memandang wajahnya, tidak pernah kulihat Oliver sepanik sekarang.
“Madrigal! Cepat turun dari kasur,
sirene sedang berbunyi sekarang!” Oliver menyeru lantang. Teriakannya terdengar
seperti kicauan burung gagak, sangat tidak nyaman di telingaku.
“Cepat, kita harus kumpul di lapangan
sekarang!” lanjutnya, masih lantang. “Dan cepat bangunkan Sophia.” Seiring
perintah itu, Oliver langsung mengangkat kaki dari pintu kamarku.
Setengah tersadar, aku hempaskan kaki
telanjangku menyentuh lantai dingin yang sangat menggigil. Desiran angin subuh
memang selalu dingin di Pince. Aku segera melaksanakan perintah Oliver, ku
angkat kaki menuju kasur yang tepat berada di samping kasur kayu tuaku.
Di sana, seorang perempuan berambut emas
terang sedang berbaring miring, membungkus diri oleh selimut putih yang tipis.
Matanya terpejam, sangat tenang sekali. Bulu matanya lentik, alisnya emas
tipis. Hidungnya mancung dan sempurna. Kulitnya halus dan seputih gading gajah
India. Bibirnya kecil, memancarkan warna merah cerah. Dialah Sophia Adélie, adik perempuanku yang sangat
cantik.
Sebelumnya,
harus kuberitahu sesuatu tentang adikku Sophia. Ada alasan khusus mengapa
Sophia tidak terbangun saat sirene dan Oliver mengusik subuh ini. Dan alasan
itu sangat membuat hatiku remuk, hancur berkeping-keping, dan sejujurnya aku
tak mampu mengatakannya. Tapi … aku harus.
Sophia
Adélie, adik perempuan cantikku yang senang sekali memberikan senyum manis
kepada masyarakat disini, sebenarnya … menderita penyakit tuli. Ya, itulah
pemberian yang setimpal, wajah cantik luar biasa yang dikaruniai oleh Tuhan
harus diimbangi oleh kekurangan yang menonjol. Tidak ada orang yang sempurna.
Tidak ada.
Aku mulai
mengguncang-guncang tubuh Sophia hingga dia perlahan membuka matanya. Dia
mengerakkan tubuhnya menghadapku. Mata hijau zaitun sangat memberikan kesan
penyayang dan hangat. Tatapan penuh peduli menurutku.
Sophia
setengah membuka mata, lalu dia mengeluarkan suara mengantuk. “Ada apa,
Madrigal? Kenapa kamu membangunkan aku? Kan masih pagi.” Sophia berkata.
Aku tidak
membalas dengan kata-kata. Satu Bahasa yang harus kukuasi dengan baik adalah
Bahasa orang tuli, Bahasa isyarat. Aku gesit mengerak-gerak jemari tanganku.
Merangkai makna dari gestur-gestur tanganku hingga Sophia dapat mengerti
maksudnya.
“Latihan
mendadak lagi?” Sophia mengerutkan alis emasnya.
Aku membalas
dengan anggukan kepala.
Sekarang
Sophia kelihatannya kaget, dan cepat-cepat dia melepaskan diri dari balutan
selimut putih dan turun dari kasur. Kami bersama-sama berlari keluar kamar,
kemudian menuruni serangkaian anak tangga hingga kami keluar dari dalam bar
milik Oliver. Tak lupa mengenakan alas kaki sebelum keluar rumah.
Di luar,
sirene semakin terdengar lantang lagi. Kuperhatikan banyak sekali orang yang
berlari gontai menuju satu tujuan. Mereka masih mengenakan pakian tidur mereka.
Sama seperti aku dan Sophia. Ada beberapa orang yang lari berbondong-bondong untuk
mencapai lapangan utama. Aku melirik kearah Sophia, lalu memberi anggukan
kepala, petanda bahwa kita harus bergegas ke lapangan.
Situasi
heboh yang diiringi oleh perasaan paranoia akan serangan bom Nazi, sudah biasa terasa
disini. Awalnya kami menganggap remeh latihan rutin ini karena kami semua
percaya bahwa tidak akan ada pasukan yang mampu menghancurkan divisi pertahanan
kami. Tapi, kenyataan itu malah berujung pahit.
Sudah
hampir dua tahun, tentara Perancis tercinta kami mengangkat senjata terhadap
negara penginjak jerman. Pertarungan sengit awalnya dilakukan di luar
perbatasan wilayah kami, namun secara cepat situasi itu berubah. Kini,
tank-tank penghancur dan pasukan ekterminasi Nazi sudah mendobrak pintu wilayah
Perancis, dan sebentar lagi, mereka akan menguasai Ibu kota Paris. Maka, kami
semuanya harus bersiap-siap untuk menghadang agar kami tidak berada dalam
cengkraman aturan Nazi.
Aku dan Sophia
berlari cepat, gaun tidur putih Sophia terlihat mengibas udara malam. Sumber
suara sirene semakin terasa dekat. Ketika aku menengak kepala keatas, kulihat
lampu-lampu tembak sedang menerangi langit subuh yang masih belum menampakan
spektrum cahayanya.
Aku sudah
tahu fungsi lampu-lampu itu. Pasukan udara Nazi memang dikenal sebagai armada
yang suka menyerang pada malam hari. Dimana pengawasan dan kewaspadaan
masyarakat dan pasukan musuh sedang lengah. Mereka biasanya datang dikamuflase
oleh gulitanya malam, dan bom-bom mereka berjatuhan seperti geluduk yang
mengejutkan. Membunuh banyak sekali penduduk biasa yang sama sekali tidak
terlibat perang dalam sekali serangan.
Taktik
perang kebiadaban mereka.
Dan
lampu-lampu tembak itu, diharapkan bisa mendeteksi dan memperingati akan
kehadiran pesawat-pesawat pembom Nazi sebelum mereka menurunkan muatan. Dengan
begitu, pasukan pertahanan seadanya di wilayah kami masih bisa menjatuhkan
pesawat mereka.
Setelah
melewati beberapa rumah bertingkat dua dan lubung padi, Kami akhirnya sampai di
lapangan utama Pince. Kutilik adalah dua atau tiga lampu yang ditembakan ke
langit, serta beberapa senjata anti-pesawat yang sudah siap untuk menembak. Di
sebelah kiri dan kananku, aku melihat ada cukup banyak benteng berupa tumpukan
karung berisi pasir yang di gunakan sebagai sarang mesin senapan. Tapi, asal
kalian tahu, mereka yang mengoperasikan mesin-mesin senapan itu bukan berasal
dari militer Perancis. Mereka adalah masyarakat disini yang menjadi militia dan
mereka sama sekali tidak memiliki pengalaman dalam peperangan.
Aku tidak
tahu apakah ini adalah latihan biasa atau tentara Nazi memang sedang
perjalanannya menuju kemari. Sirene kencang itu tidak menjelaskannya. Di
belakangku, kurasakan genggaman tangan yang sangat erat dari Sophia. Aku terus
berada di dekatnya, menjaganya jika terjadi apa-apa sekarang. Siap
mempertaruhkan nyawaku demi menjaga adikku tercinta. Satu-satunya saudara yang
kumiliki dalam dunia ini.
“Madrigal!
Sophia!” suara keras yang memanggil nama kami terdengar dari belakang pundakku.
Aku menoleh dan melihat Oliver sedang berlari mendekati kami. Pakaian kemeja
kotak-kotaknya sekarang terlihat dibanjiri oleh keringat.
Sebelum aku
sempat memanggil namanya, suara toa yang lebih kencang dari suara sirene kini
terdengar. Situasai sekarang sangat ramai oleh suara-suara yang sangat merusak
gendang telinga. Di balik toa, kulihat ada seseorang berbadan tegap, berbahu
lebar, wajah tua dengan kumis tebal serta bibir yang menurun, bersiap-siap
berbicara. Dia mengenakan pakaian militer Perancis, serta topi komandan.
Tidak ada
yang tahu namanya, tapi dia sering-sering dijuluki dengan nama, Le Protecteur.
Yang artinya, Si penjaga.
Kami setia memperhatikan
apa yang hendak di katakan oleh orang itu. “Attention
s'il vous plaît, tout le monde. Seperti yang sudah kami ajarkan, tolong
semuanya bersiap-siap di posisinya masing-masing! Ingat, latihan ini demi
menjaga keberlangsungan hidup kalian!”
Setelah pernyataan
Le Protecteur, semua orang langsung bubar secara teratur. Setelah
berbulan-bulan latihan, mereka sudah tahu dimana posisinya masing-masing untuk
mempersiapkan kedatangan tentara Nazi nantinya. Sebelum menempati posisi, aku
terlebih dahulu menoleh ke Sophia, dan memberikan terjemahan Bahasa isyarat
soal apa yang baru saja di katakana oleh orang berpakaian militer itu.
Dia
mengangguk cepat, menandakan dia mengerti penjelasanku. Kemudian, secara
langkas kami berpisah dan bergegas menempati posisi masing-masing. Aku terlebih
dahulu mengambil senjata dalam gudang persenjataan, lalu melesat pergi.
Aku di
suruh untuk menjaga bagian utara desa. Dimana disana terdapat banyak
bangunan-bangunan tua yang sudah lama tak ditempati. Aku bersama lima orang
lainnya, yang usianya jauh lebih tua dan dewasa dariku, melangkah gesit memasuki
sebuah bangunan yang terbuat dari bebebatuan dan diperkuat oleh semen. Hawa
mengerikan yang berusaha melahap kami semua terasa nyata sekarang.
Kami kemudian
dibagi menjadi dua kelompok, yang satu kelompoknya terdiri dari tiga orang yang
masing-masing memegang senapan rampasan perang. Ada juga yang hanya memegang
pistol sebagai senjatanya.
Ini memang
latihan saja, tapi suasana disini terasa seakan-akan Nazi benar-benar berniat
menyerang Pince dalam waktu dekat. Semua orang terlihat waspada dan membuka
matanya lebar-lebar, membuat simulasi yang sangat terasa nyata.
Posisiku adalah
di atap bangunan tua itu bersama seorang pemuda desa bernama Aleron, sedangkan
satu orang lagi bertugas menjaga pintu masuk kami dari dalam.
Aku secara
secara khusus diberikan sebuah binokuler tua agar dapat memandang jauh. Berguna
agar aku bisa melihat kedatangan para Nazi sebelum mereka meledakan senjata
mereka. Pemilihan bangunan ini sebagai posisi pengawasan juga tidak dipilih
berdasarkan hitung kancing belaka, tentu bukan. Bangunan ini secara khusus
dipiliha karena merupakan bangunan tertinggi di Pince Utara, sehingga dari
ketinggian beberapa meter dari tanah, aku bisa melihat lebih jauh lagi dan
menghilangkan kesempatan musuh untuk melakukan serangan mendadak.
Mematahkan unsur serangan dadakan musuh, adalah
taktik terpenting. Begitulah mereka mengajarkanku selama latihan
dadakan. Angin dingin sangat mendesir beku di atap sekarang. Aku tak kuasa
menahan gigilku sehingga tanganku juga ikut bergemetar hebat. Merusak keterampilanku
dalam mengawasi.
Ada sebuah
tangan yang menepok pundakku. “Hé! Ne
tremble pas tant, vous allez perdre l'accent!” Rekan pejuangku berbisik. (Jangan
bergemetar, kau akan kehilangan fokus!)
Aku
mengangguk dan berusaha mengurangi gelentar tubuhku. Tapi rasanya sungguh
mendekati mustahil, dan aku terus tergigil. Dan itu membuat rekanku yang
berusia dua-puluh-tahun dan berambut hitam pekat, mendesis kesal.
“Ah! Donnez-moi les jumelles, Madrigal. Vous êtes
incompetent!” Dia kemudian berusaha merebut teropong itu
dariku. (Ah! Berikan teropong itu padaku, Madrigal. Kau tidak kompeten!)
Ketika aku menolak
dan melawan, dia terlihat marah dan berkata kencang, “Donne-moi à moi, Madrigal!
Maintenant!” (Berikan padaku, Madrigal! Sekarang!)
Tapi aku
menolak keras. Aku sungguh tidak ingin memberikan teropong ini padanya karena
inilah tugas yang dibebankan padaku. Dan aku tidak ingin memberikan tugas yang
jelas-jelas ditimpa untukku.
Ketika dia
menahan tubuhku, aku mendesis. “NON!
Laisser aller, Aleron.” (Tidak! Lepaskan, Aleron.)
Terganggu
oleh pertikaian kecil kami soal masalah siapa yang mendapatkan teropong,
mendadak mata falsetku melihat sebuah cahaya merah terang yang muncul beberapa meter
dari bangunan tua yang kutempati. Cahaya itu tampak diikuti oleh kabut merah
pekat. Sekilas, aku melihat kabut itu seperti …
“Merde! gaz toxique!” (Sial! Gas
beracun!) Salah seorang dari kelompok lain berteriak. “Les nazis nous attaquent!”
Kami semua
sekarang panik. Bagaimana tidak, kami hanya membawa senjata bekas dan perlengkapan
seadanya. Itu berarti kami tidak mempunyai masker gas untuk melindungi diri
dari kabut beracun itu. Mataku terus terpaku kearah kabut itu yang semakin
mendekati dan membalut bangunan tua yang menjadi pos kami. Ketika rekanku,
Aleron, bergerak menjauh agar terhindar kontak dengan kabut itu, entah kenapa aku
masih mempertahankan posisiku.
Saat ini,
aku kaku seolah-olah kakiku telah dilapisi semen keras. Aku ingin melangkah,
kabur dan mencari posisi aman dari serangan kabut mendadak mereka. Tetapi aku
tidak bisa.
Pikiranku
melantur. Ketakutan setengah mati jika berita yang mereka katakan mengenai
serangan Nazi itu benar adanya. Aku berusaha untuk menolak gagasan itu, tapi …
bukti nyata sekarang terpampang jelas di depan mataku. Berupa gas merah yang
semakin mendekati tubuhku. Membalutku dalam kabutan racunnya.
“Sedang apa
kau?! Allons!” Tak kusangka, Aleron
kembali dan menarikku dari kesemuan. Memaksa kedua kakiku untuk melangkah masuk
kedalam bangunan.
Kami segera
bergabung dengan regu lain yang juga sama terkejutnya dengan serangan mendadak
ini. Tidak ada yang mempersiapkan alat untuk mengantisipasi serangan racun. Kami
kesini hanya membawa senjata, pakaian yang kami kenakan, serta satu buah botol
minum. Tidak ada yang bisa digunakan untuk menyelamatkan hidup kami.
Saat ini,
kami terperangkap seperti tikus yang dimangsa oleh seekor kucing besar dan
ganas.
“Tutup
pintunya!” perintah seseorang. “Kita tidak mau gas itu masuk kedalam! Tutup semua
celah agar gas itu tidak masuk!”
Kami langsung
melaksanakan perintahnya. Menutupi semua ceruk celah yang bisa kami temukan
dengan kain-kain kotor yang masih terdapat dalam bangunan ini. Kemudian, kami
semua terdiam. Menunggu kepastian, dan ternyata, rencananya berhasil. Tidak ada
gas yang lolos dari sumbatan kain-kain itu.
“Bagaimana
ini?! Kita tidak bisa kabur sekarang! Merde!
Merde!” seorang laki-laki berpakaian sweater abu-abu rajutan serta topi
kecil terdengar panik. “Kita terjebak, Nazi menyerang! Dan kita akan mati
sebentar lagi juga! Tamatlah riwayatku! Oh
non …”
Kami semua
yang terperangkap merasa demikian. Kami akan mati, dan kami tahu itu. Tidak ada
belas kasihan jika bertatapan langsung dengan pasukan Nazi. Mereka akan mengeksekusimu,
membunuhmu ditempat. Tak peduli apakah engkau mempunyai sanak saudara, istri,
anak, atau usiamu masih belia.
Tidak ada belas kasihan. Itu yang
paling ditegaskan ketika kami semua diberi penjelasan masalah Nazi dan apabila
kami tertangkap.
Tiba-tiba
laki-laki berpakaian sweater rajutan itu menembak mata kearahku. Tatapannya geram
sekaligus ketakutan. Dia berjalan kearahku, jari telunjuknya terarah pada
wajahku. “Ini … ini semua karenamu, bocah! Karena – karena kamu tidak melakukan
tugas pengawasanmu dengan baik, kita – kita sekarang terperangkap dan menunggu
mati! garçon stupide!”
Bohong jika
kukatakan aku tidak terperanjat dan merasa bersalah. Dan bohong kalau kukatakan
ini semua karenaku. Yang sebenarnya membuat ulah adalah Aleron, dan dia
sekarang terlihat menghindari adu mulut dengan siapapun. Tapi, aku juga tidak
ingin menariknya kedalam masalah ini, karena aku tahu, walaupun aku menyalahkan
dirinya karena situasi sekarang, itu tetap tidak akan mengubah fakta bahwa kami
terperangkap dan gas mematikan tengah mendekat.
“Hé! Jelaskan mengapa kau lengah dalam
pekerjaanmu!” Dia didera emosi. “Karena kau, kita semua dalam situasi ini!”
Aku
menghela napas, dan enggan menjawab. Lelaki bersweater rajutan itu semakin naik
pitam ketika jawaban yang kuberikan hanyalah sebatas helaan napas saja. Dan dia
langsung melangkah cepat menuju posisi berdiriku. Tangannya dikepalnya kuat
siap menghantamku, matanya berapi-api.
Sudah biasa
bagi wajahku dihajar habis-habisan. Rasa sakit yang mengalir bak voltase
listrik, sudah biasa kurasakan. Semenjak kedua orang tuaku meninggal dan
sebelum aku dan Sophia diasuh oleh Oliver, aku sudah biasa dihantam hingga
babak belur karena sering mencuri makanan kecil untuk memuaskan perutku dan
adikku Sophia. Jadi, aku tidak mempermasalahkan niatan orang marah ini.
Aku menelan
ludah, kemudian mengangkat wajahku keatas, bersiap-siap menerima tinjunya. Dia mengangkat
tangan, sebelum dia sempat menurunkan dan menonjok wajahku, tiba-tiba pintu
bangunan mendobrak terbuka. Semua perhatianku tertuju pada pintu kayu yang entah
kenapa tiba-tiba terbuka, padahal sudah dipastikan pintu itu terkunci. Anehnya
lagi, kabut merah itu tidak masuk kedalam. Kabut itu hanya bertenggar disana,
menutupi jalan keluar kami satu-satunya.
Kami semua
merasa terheran.
“Ce que le ...” gumamku bingung, kujatuhkan
senapanku. (Apa yang …)
Dalam
hitungan detik selanjutnya, kelima orang dalam ruangan ini mengangkat laras
senapan bekas mereka dan membidik tepat kearah kabut itu. Menunggu apakah ini
adalah trik muslihat teknologi Nazi atau bukan. Kami semua sudah tahu -mau itu
petani atau saudagar kaya sekalipun- bahwa negara Nazi Jerman mempunyai senjata
mutakhir dan teknologi penuh tipu muslihat yang tujuannya hanya untuk membunuh
saja.
Setelah
beberapa detik merasa gelisah, seseorang dari mereka berteriak memberi perintah
untuk menembak. “Tout le monde, pousse!
"
Seperti
petasan pada perayaan hari kemerdekaan, senapan-senapan tua mereka meledak-ledak
memuntahkan puluhan peluru dan mengenai kabut merah itu. Tetapi itu ada efek
apa-apa. Peluru itu hanya mengikis kabut merah itu saja. Aku sungguh tidak tahu
apa yang terjadi. Aku perlahan-lahan merayap kaki menuju sudut tembok. Merasa
ada sesuatu yang membahayakan yang sebenarnya tersimpan dalam kabut misteri
itu.
Semuanya
masih memegang senjatanya tinggi. Hening. Lalu, setelah beberapa saat keheningan
itu pecah oleh suara aungan keras dan berat layaknya angunan singa kelaparan.
Aku
terkesiap, jari-jemariku menyentuh tembok dalam perasaan takut. Teriakan
kencang itu datang dari kabut itu. Itu sudah bisa kupastikan.
Layaknya deraian
angin, kabut merah itu cepat memasuki ruangan. Dan ketika kabut itu mengisi
udara dan membalut kepala hingga dada kelima orang itu, mereka sekejap langsung
roboh. Menghantam lantai tua bangunan. Tak bernyawa.
Aku semakin
mengencet tembok dengan punggungku. Kabut itu sekarang mendekati posisiku.
Kakiku gemetar sangat hebat dan aku tidak bisa mengendalikannya. Tiba-tiba,
kabut itu terlihat mengumpal, membentuk sesuatu yang menyerupai semacam hewan liar.
Perlahan, kabut itu mulai mengeras hingga kelihatannya bukan gas lagi. Kabut
itu kini berubah menjadi padat. Menyerupai hewan liar yang berdiri dengan empat
kaki, dan memiliki tanduk satu.
Aku
menggeligis dan gidik memperhatikan bentuk hewan mengerikan di depanku. Aku
hapal baik anatonomi hewan dari buku-buku berian orang tuaku sebelum mereka
meninggal dunia, dan hewan buas ini kelihatannya gabungan dari beberapa hewan
yang kukenali.
Mitos menyebutnya
sebagai …. Chimera.
Hewan
mengerikan dan buas ini berkulit merah darah. Kepala serta badannya menyerupai
kepala singa yang memiliki tanduk runcing di keningnya. Badan singa itu
bergabung dengan ular kobra yang menjadi ekor hewan aneh ini.
Lebih
anehnya lagi, hewan ini dapat berbicara. Intonasinya berat dan terdengar dendam
sekali. “Kemarilah … Biarkan aku mencabikmu. Merobek tubuhmu. Menghancurkan
tengkorakmu.” Kata-kata itu seperti bisikan kematian ketika cakar-cakar
tajamnya mengambil satu langkah maju.
“Jangan
takut, bocah kecil. Kematianmu akan berlangsung sekejap dan tak akan terasa.” Dia
membuka mulut buas yang dipenuhi oleh deretan taring-taring pemangsa manusia. Dalam
satu gerakan, dia berusaha mencabik kepalaku. Aku refleks mengatup mata dalam
perasaan takut.
Aku tidak
tahu kapan keajaiban yang menyelamatkan nyawaku hadir, tapi aku segera
mendengar tumbukan keras dari tembok samping kiriku. Kukira aku sudah tewas.
Tapi ketika aku membuka mata, Chimera itu kelihatannya terluka dan sudah melepaskan
tatapan mangsannya dariku.
“Jadi kau
datang untuk menyelamatkan anak kecil ini?!” Chimera itu mengamuk. “Sekarang –
kaulah yang akan kucabik duluan!” Dengan satu gerakan gesit, kulihat Chimera
itu entakkan tubuh menyerang sesuatu didepannya yang tampak seperti kilauan cahaya
putih.
Aku tidak
tahu apa itu, dan aku lebih baik tidak tahu.
Chimera itu
segera terhempas lagi seakan-akan dia bukan apa-apa. Kuperhatikan sosok
bercahaya itu mengeluarkan kilatan kuning terang. Bentuknya menyeruapi pedang. Dengan
satu ayunan pedang cahayanya, Chimera itu sekali lagi menghantam tembok, bahkan
menghancurkan tembok itu.
Ketika aku
merasa pertarungan ngeri kedua mahuluk garib ini selesai, ternyata Chimera itu merentangkan
tubuhnya menyerang sosok cahaya putih itu. Gigi tajamnya merobek sesuatu di bagian
paling atas sosok cahaya itu, yang kukira berfungsi sebagai semacam kamuflase yang
membuat sosoknya berkilau.
Berkas
kilauan cahaya itu segera memudar dan menampakan sosok wanita berambut perak
lurus yang membentang hingga bahunya. Sosok itu anggun dan berbadan indah, yang
dadanya ditutupi oleh berlapis-lapis pakaian besi putih suci, sedangkan
pinggang hingga lututnya tertutup oleh kain hitam yang menyerupai rok. Pada
betis wanita ini, kutilik ada dua greaves
yang diikat kencang. Alas kakinya terbuat dari besi yang meruncing ujungnya.
Tangannya dibalut
oleh baja putih pelindung tangan dan pada tangan kanannya, dia tampak mencengkram
kuat sebilah pedang terasah dan sudah dilumuri darah yang kuduga adalah darah
Chimera itu.
Dia
mengenakan helm yang menutup semua bagian kepalanya kecuali matanya yang memancarkan
warna madu. Kuperhatian di atas helmnya, ada bagian yang patah karena gigitan
Chimera itu.
Aku tidak
tahu mahluk semacam apa dia yang mendadak muncul dari balik kilauan cahaya.
Namun, pada punggungnya, aku melihat sayap-sayap berbulu putih yang menonjol
keluar dari lapisan baja dan membentang lebar, bahkan melebihi ukuran tubuh si
Chimera itu.
Sempat
terpikirkan bahwa sosok ini adalah sesosok … malaikat. Tapi, apakah benar dia seorang
malaikat suci nan abadi yang sering kudengar dari cerita-cerita si pendongeng langgananku
itu?
Belum
terlintas jawabannya, sosok wanita anggun itu bergerak gesit, walaupun bobot pelindung
baja yang dia kenakannya kutahu sangat berat. Dia mengibas pedang perunggunya
sekali lagi, dan menyayat Chimera yang sekarang sangat terlihat di ambang
kematian.
Chimera itu
roboh, darah merah bercucuran hebat dari luka-luka yang dideritanya. Sosok
wanita itu kemudian membungkukan badan, mencengkram bulu-bulu merah singa itu
dan mengangkat kepalanya tinggi.
Aku
menyaksikan perseteruan di antara dua mahluk gaib ini. Aku sungguh tidak tahu
harus berkata apa, aku termangu-mangu dalam pemandangan yang baru saja
kusaksikan.
Wanita anggun itu kemudian menyeret
Chimera itu layaknya anjing hingga darahnya mengotori lantai, dan
membelakangiku. Sayap-sayap yang terpisah beberapa sentimeter itu mengibas
sekali, membuat wajahku merasa desiran udara subuh.
Aku tergagap ketika pingin bicara. “Si
… si … siapa kamu?” Aku bertanya, tak bisa mengendalikan intonasiku agar tidak
gemetar.
Lalu, kuperhatikan helm wanita itu
berputar, melihat tepat ke mataku. Kami menatap satu-sama-lain. Tapi tidak ada
kata-kata, tidak ada perkenalan diri. Dan aku masih didera perasaan penasaran
soal siapa dirinya dan sosok apa dirinya. Akan tetapi, dengan satu kibasan dari
sayap-sayap putih kuatnya, dia langsung terbang tinggi, menghancurkan beton-beton
bangunan seakan-akan mereka kapas.
Dia menghilang, memasuki langit-langit
yang mulai memberikan warna pertamanya.
Aku terbungkam. Ketika kulihat
kedepan, ternyata darah Chimera yang tadinya mengotori lantai bagaikan sihir,
mendadak lenyap. Tapi, kematian rekan-rekanku masih tetap pasti. Mereka masih
tergeletak tak bernyawa di lantai.
Aku merayap kakiku kedepan, berusaha
keluar dari tempat mengerikan itu. Tetapi aku tak bisa melenyapkan memoriku
tentang apa yang baru saja kusaksikan.
Dari lubuk pikiranku, aku yakin sosok
yang baru kusaksikan, yang anggun dan cantik itu, adalah sesosok Malaikat dalam
cerita-cerita pendongeng itu.
Saat itulah, kutemukan kebenaran soal
malaikat.
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