Kerupuk Tempe | Tempe Crackers | Bilingual |

Kerupuk Tempe

Cerpen by @ayijufridar

SULAIMAN tidak pernah menyangka kehidupannya hari ini harus berakhir di kantor polisi hanya karena sekantong kerupuk tempe. Pagi tadi ia bangun lebih pagi dari biasanya karena hari ini mereka akan melakukan perjalanan jauh. Sulaiman memuat ratusan kantong kerupuk ke dalam mobil bak terbuka. Dia menumpuk kantong-kantong kerupuk seberapa mampu tumpukan paling bawah menahan beban. Jangan sampai tumpukan yang terlalu tinggi mengancurkan kerupuk di bawah.

Dia sudah berpengalaman dalam perkara ini. Untuk menghindari hancurnya kerupuk di bawah, hanya perlu dibuat susunan yang saling mendukung di antara kantong di sisi kiri dan kanan. Kedudukan kantong dari bawah ke atas dibuat menyamping sehingga kantong paling bawah tidak harus menahan beban berat. Kendati demikian, selalu saja ada beberapa potong kerupuk dalam kantong paling bawah yang hancur. Tidak mengapa. Kerupuk tersebut tetap laku dijual dengan harga miring. Selama empat tahun berjualan kerupuk tempe, mereka selalu pulang dengan muatan yang sudah kosong. Semakin lama mereka berjualan, semakin banyak pelanggan, dan tentu saja semakin banyak keuntungan.

Pekerjaan sebagai penjual kerupuk sudah dijalani Sulaiman sejak empat tahun terakhir setelah ia lelah menjadi buruh bangunan. Ijazah SMA yang dimilikinya tidak pernah dipakai untuk melamar kerja. Profesi buruh bangunan tidak membutuhkan ijazah, demikian juga dengan menjadi penjual kerupuk. Ia tidak pernah melamar pekerjaan menjadi PNS karena sadar akan sia-sia kalau tidak menyediakan uang pelicin. Semangatnya melamar pekerjaan kantoran langsung pupus ketika pertama kali mengurus kartu kuning di Dinas Tenaga Kerja, ia dimintai sejumlah uang. Padahal, kartu yang berisi catatan data diri pencari kerja tersebut bisa dikatakan kartu resmi bagi penganggur. Bayangkan, menjadi penganggur yang tercatat saja sudah harus membayar.

Setelah tumpukan kerupuk itu menyerupai bukit kecil, mereka mulai jalan. Musuh mereka adalah angin dan hujan. Untuk itulah Sulaiman menurup kerupuk tersebut dengan terpal kedap air. Selain memuat, tugasnya yang lain adalah mencatat jumlah kerupuk yang dijual sekaligus mengutip uangnya dari pelanggan. Khaidir, sopirnya hanya membantu mengangkat kerupuk dari mobil ke warung-warung para pelanggan. Seberapa banyak yang laku, tidak berpengaruh terhadap upah sopir karena ia dibayar harian. Beda dengan Sulaiman yang mendapatkan upah sesuai dengan uang yang berhasil ia bawa pulang.

Awalnya perjalanan mereka berjalan lancar. Tidak ada razia di jalan raya sebelum hari terang, kecuali di pos polisi tertentu yang selalu melakukan razia terutama untuk mengantisipasi peredaran ganja. Sejak kasus terorisme terjadi, alasan polisi melakukan razia menjadi bertambah. Tak jarang, dalam razia terorisme mereka malah mendapatkan ganja. Tapi belum pernah terjadi dalam razia ganja mereka menemukan tersangka teroris.

Hari masih gelap ketika mereka terjaring razia di depan sebuah kantor polisi resort. Hal seperti ini sudah biasa mereka hadapi, apalagi sejak adanya isu-isu terorisme yang tidak pernah ada sebelumnya. Kalau semasa konflik bersenjata orang-orang asli Aceh yang paling dicurigai sebagai anggota atau simpatisan gerilyawan, maka sekarang justru orang-orang luar Aceh yang lebih mudah dicurigai. Diperiksa lebih lama, dan disodori lebih banyak pertanyaan, apalagi bila orang tersebut berjenggot. Celakalah orang Aceh berjenggot yang dicurigai di masa konflik, dan lebih dicurigai di masa damai.

Seorang polisi meminta mereka menunjukkan surat-surat kendaraan. Setelah semuanya beres, mereka menduga pemeriksaan telah selesai. Ternyata itu baru tahap awal. Polisi menanyakan isi di bak belakang. Ketika Khaidir menjawab kerupuk, polisi tidak langsung percaya dan memintanya membuka terpal yang langsung dilakukan Khaidir dengan sigapnya.

Polisi itu, yang menatap Khaidir dan Sulaiman dengan penuh kewaspadaan, memegang sekantong kerupuk dan memperhatikannya dengan seksama seolah ada shabu-shabu di dalamnya. Dan di situlah masalah berawal.

“Kerupuk ini tidak berizin. Tidak ada masa kadaluarsa.”

Saya hanyalah seorang sopir, sahut Khaidir dalam hati. Dia lantas memanggil Sulaiman di jok depan untuk menjelaskan. Sulaiman pun mengatakan dirinya hanyalah sebagai penjual saja. Dia sama sekali tidak tahu-menahu bahwa usaha kerupuk yang dihasilkan ibu rumah tangga di kampung mereka hanya memiliki izin. Harus dicantumkan masa kadaluarsanya. Sulaiman juga tidak pernah memperhatikan kerupuk kulit yang juga dijual bebas di pasaran ada masa kadaluarsanya.

Polisi itu menyuruh Sulaiman dan Khaidir memasukkan mobil ke dalam halaman parkir kantor polisi. Sekantong kerupuk yang berada di tangan polisi dibawa masuk ke dalam. Katanya sebagai barang bukti. “Kalian hubungi pemilik usaha ini dan suruh datang ke sini untuk pemeriksaan. Kalian juga akan diperiksa sebagai saksi,” katanya setelah menunjukkan tempat parkir di antara deretan mobil lainnya. Ada beberapa mobil bak terbuka di sana, tetapi tidak ada yang berisi kerupuk.

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Dua jam sudah Sulaiman dan Khaidir duduk di dalam ruang tunggu Kabag Reskrim untuk menunggu panggilan pemeriksaan. Polisi keluar masuk di ruangan itu. Kadang ada masyarakat umum juga. Mereka semua terlibat percakapan. Kadang serius. Kadang santai. Kadang terdengar suara tawa. Saat masyarakat sipil masuk, Sulaiman dan Khaidir juga mendengar suara orang menangis. Dunia ini panggung sandiwara. Tapi ruang Kabag Reskrim di sebuah kantor kepolisian juga sebuah mini panggung dunia. Suara tawa dan tangis terdengar hanya dalam hitungan jam. Dengan tokoh beda dan peran beda. Kalau pun ada persamaan di antara mereka adalah sikap terhadap Sulaiman dan Khaidir. Mereka sebegitu sibuknya hingga tidak menyadari ada dua manusia di ruang tunggu. Polisi yang keluar masuk itu, orang-orang sipil yang keluar masuk itu, baik yang tertawa lebih-lebih yang menangis, tak sekali pun menegur. Mereka berdua seperti dianggap tiada, seperti pajangan di dalam lemari.

Sulaiman sempat berpikir untuk ke luar dari ruangan itu. Mereka bisa saja keluar lalu mengambil mobil di pelataran parkir. Pergi diam-diam karena tidak ada polisi yang mau peduli kepada mereka. Tapi Sulaiman takut dianggap buronan. Kabur dari pemeriksaan polisi. Kalau tertangkap lagi, hukumannya pasti lebih berat. Padahal, belum tentu mereka bersalah.

Menjelang siang, polisi yang tadi memeriksa kelengkapan surat di jalan saat razia masuk ke ruangan. Dia memanggil Sulaiman dan Khaidir ke ruangan yang berbeda. Kepada Sulaiman, dia bertanya data diri, pekerjaan, alamat, dan sudah berapa berjualan kerupuk tempe.

Sulaiman menjawab jujur.

Kemudian polisi itu bertanya tentang pemilik usaha kerupuk tersebut. Sulaiman juga menjawab dengan jujur, termasuk ketika pertanyaan beranjak mengenai izin kerupuk. Dia tidak tahu-menahu mengenai masalah tersebut. Dia juga mengaku tidak tahu ketika dikatakan oleh polisi bahwa kerupuk tempe itu merugikan konsumen, melanggar Undang-Undang Nomor 8 Tahun 1999 Tentang Perlindungan Konsumen. “Pernah mendengar?”

Sulaiman menggeleng bingung. Dia lantas diminta menghubungi Taher, si pemilik usaha melalui telepon selular. Dia mengangguk. Setelah menelepon, Sulaiman diminta menunggu di ruangan tadi. Saat keluar dari ruangan pemeriksaan tersebut yang tidak terlalu jauh dari ruang runggu Kabag Reskrim, dia berpapasan dengan Khaidir. Sulaiman yakin sopirnya itu juga disodori pertanyaan yang sama. Tapi dia tidak tahu apakah Khaidir menjawabnya dengan jujur.

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Sampai menjelang sore, Taher belum juga kelihatan batang hidungnya. Padahal, dari dari rumahnya sampai ke kantor polisi hanya membutuhkan satu jam. Itu kalau menggunakan kendaraan umum. Dengan kendaraan pribadi lebih cepat dari itu. Meski berada dalam kabupaten yang berbeda, tetapi jaraknya tidaklah terlalu jauh.

Saat gelap turun,polisi itu datang lagi ke tempat Sulaiman dan Khaidir menunggu. Menanyakan apakah mereka sudah makan atau belum. Ketika dijawab belum, si polisi berbaik hati memerintahkan seseorang membelikan dua nasi bungkus dan dua botol air mineral ukuran sedang. Setelah itu, si polisi itu tidak terlihat lagi. Dia digantikan orang lain yang kembali menanyakan masalah yang dihadapi Sulaiman dan Khaidir. Mereka terpaksa menjelaskan hal yang sama. Dan mereka kembali diminta menunggu kedatangan Taher.

Tapi sampai menjelang malam lelaki itu tidak muncul. Ruang tunggu Sulaiman dan Khaidir pun berpindah ke sel tahanan. Sulaiman tidak bisa membayangkan seperti apa. Dia menuruti arahan polisi itu yang menuntun mereka sampai ke ruang tahanan. Sulaiman hanya menduga mereka akan tidur berdua di situ. Tapi saat masuk ke dalamnya, Sulaiman dan Khaidir disambut sejumlah pasang mata disertai berbagai komentar yang tidak bisa didengarnya dengan jelas. Satu-satunya suara yang jelas masuk ke telinga Sulaiman adalah suara pintu besi beradu yang disusul dengan gembok besar dikunci rapat.
Seorang remaja ceking bercelana pendek dan kaos oblong menyambutnya. “Lapor dulu sama Dan Keng!” teriaknya.

Mulanya Sulaiman Dan Keng itu seorang lelaki berkulit putih dan bermata sipit. Tapi ketika melihat ujung telunjuk si pemuda ceking, matanya bersirobok pandang dengan seorang lelaki berkulit hitam dan berwajah kasar. Rambutnya cepak.

“Siapa dia?” tanya Sulaiman.

“Dan Keng, bodoh! Komandan Kerangkeng!”

Sulaiman baru mengerti dalam ruang tahanan juga ada komandan. Dengan perasaan bingung bercampur takut, ia menghadap Dan Keng yang sedang duduk bersandar di dinding. Di sekeliling mereka ada sejumlah tahanan lain yang memperhatikan dengan dingin. Khaidir mengikuti gerakan Sulaiman dengan kaku. Wajahnya lebih pucat dari Sulaiman. Demikian juga keringat di dahinya lebih banyak dari Sulaiman.

Keduanya duduk bersila di depan Dan Keng.

“Apa kesalahan kalian?” tanya Dan Keng sebelum Sulaiman dan Khaidir mendapatkan posisi yang nyaman.

“Jualan…” suara Sulaiman terdengar seperti berasal dari alam lain.

“Jualan apa? Sabu? Ganja? Atau senjata?”

“Kerupuk tempe…”

Terdengar suara tawa bergemuruh. Bukan hanya keluar dari mulut Dan Keng. Tampaknya seluruh penghuni ruang tahanan itu tertawa keras. Sulaiman dan Khaidir hanya diam tak mengerti. Mereka menunggu. Setelah tawa itu selesai, pemuda ceking tadi mencolek bahu Sulaiman dari belakang.

“Hey… Bodoh. Berjualan kerupuk tempe saja masuk penjara. Bodoh! Bodoh! Bodoh! Besok kalian jualan shabu aja kayak aku. Biar masuk penjara, tapi dapat duit banyak. Udah kere, masuk penjara pula. Kasian deh kalian!”

Dan suara tawa kembali bergemuruh. Panjang dan lama, sampai kemudian datang seorang penjaga yang menyuruh mereka diam sambil memukul-mukul pentungan ke pintu besi. Tapi suara tawa masih terdengar satu dua.***

Lhok Seumawe, April 2010

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Source: https://prelo.co.id/lukisan-pedagang-asongan-karya-dwi-martono-b14e4b8511ad.html

Tempe Crackers

Short story by @ayijufridar

SOLOMON never thought his life today should end up in a police station just because of a bag of tempe crackers. This morning he woke up earlier than usual because today they would travel far. Sulaiman loads hundreds of bags of crackers into a pickup truck. He stacked the pockets of crackers how well he could hold the bottom of the load. Do not let the pile that is too high to sprinkle crackers below.

He's experienced in this case. To avoid cracking down below, just create a mutually supportive arrangement between the pockets on the left and right sides. The position of the bag from the bottom up is made sideways so that the bottom of the bag does not have to withstand heavy loads. Nevertheless, there are always some pieces of crackers in the bottom of the shattered pouch. No problem. Crackers are still sold at low prices. During four years of selling tempeh crackers, they always come home with an empty load. The longer they sell, the more customers, and of course the more profits.

Work as a seller of crackers has been lived by Sulaiman since the last four years after he was tired of being a construction worker. His high school diploma was never used for applying for work. The profession of construction workers does not require a diploma, as well as being a cracker seller. He never applied for a job as a civil servant because he realized it would be useless if it did not provide grease money. His passion for applying for an office job immediately vanished when he first took care of a yellow card at the Department of Labor, he was asked for some money. In fact, the card containing a record of self-employment job data can be said official card for the unemployed. Imagine, being a registered unemployed person would have to pay.

After the pile of crackers resembles a small hill, they begin to walk. Their enemies are wind and rain. That's why Sulaiman spun the cracker with waterproof tarp. In addition to loading, the other task is to record the number of crackers sold as well as to quote money from customers. Khaidir, his driver only helped lift crackers from cars to customers' stalls. How much is sold, has no effect on the driver's wage because he is paid daily. Differences with Sulaiman who get wages in accordance with the money he managed to bring home.

Initially their journey went smoothly. There are no raids on the highway before daylight, except at certain police stations that always conduct raids, especially to anticipate the circulation of marijuana. Since the case of terrorism has occurred, the reason the police conducted the raids increased. Not infrequently, in the raids of terrorism they even get marijuana. But never before in the raids they found a suspected terrorist.

It was still dark when they were caught in a raid in front of a resort police station. Things like this are common they face, especially since the existence of terrorism issues that never existed before. If during the armed conflict of Acehnese people most suspected of being members or sympathizers of insurgents, it is now more easily suspected outsiders of Aceh. Checked longer, and presented more questions, especially if the person is bearded. Woe to Acehnese bearded people who are suspected in times of conflict, and more suspected in peacetime.

A policeman asked them to show me the papers. Once everything is settled, they suspect the check has been completed. Apparently that's just the beginning stage. The police asked the contents in the back tub. When Khaidir responded to crackers, the police did not immediately believe and asked him to open the tarpaulins which Khaidir immediately made with alacrity. The policeman, who looked at Khaidir and Sulaiman with great vigilance, grabbed a bag of crackers and watched him carefully as if there were shabu-shabu in it. And that's where the problem begins.

"This cracker is not licensed. No expiration. "

I'm just a driver, Khaidir said to himself. He then called Solomon in the front seat to explain. Solomon also said he was just a seller. He had no idea that the cracker business produced by housewives in their village only had permission. Must be expired.
Solomon also never pay attention to skin crackers that are also sold freely in the market there is expiration.

The policeman told Solomon and Khaidir to put the car into the parking lot of the police station. A bag of crackers in the hands of the police was brought in. He said as evidence. "You call this business owner and have him come here for an examination. You will also be examined as a witness, "he said after showing the parking space between the rows of other cars. There were a few pickup cars there, but none of them contained crackers.

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Two hours already Solomon and Khaidir sat in the waiting room Head Krim to wait for the examination call. The police came out in the room. Sometimes there is the general public as well. They all engage in conversation. Sometimes serious. Sometimes relaxed. Sometimes laughter. When civil society came in, Sulaiman and Khaidir also heard the sound of people crying. The world is on stage. But Kabag Reskrim room in a police station is also a mini world stage. The sound of laughter and tears came within hours. With different characters and different roles. If there is any similarity between them is the attitude towards Sulaiman and Khaidir. They were so busy they did not realize there were two people in the waiting room. The incoming police officer, the civilians who came in and out, both laughing more and more were crying, never once rebuked. They both seemed to be missing, like a display in a closet.

Solomon thought to get out of the room. They could just get out and get the car in the parking lot. Going quietly because no cops would care about them. But Solomon is afraid of being considered a fugitive. Run away from police checks. If caught again, the punishment must be more severe. In fact, not necessarily they are guilty.

By noon, the police who had checked the completeness of the letter on the street when the raid entered the room. He called Sulaiman and Khaidir to a different room. To Solomon, he asked for personal data, work, address, and how to sell tempe crackers.

Solomon answered honestly.

Then the police asked about the owner of the cracker business. Solomon also answered honestly, including when the question went about permission crackers. He does not know anything about the problem. He also admitted to not knowing when told by police that tempe crackers are detrimental to consumers, violating Law No. 8 of 1999 on Consumer Protection. "Ever heard of?"

Solomon shook his head puzzled. He was then asked to contact Taher, the owner of the business through a cellular phone. He nodded. After calling, Sulaiman was asked to wait in the room. When out of the examination room that is not too far from the room Kabag Reskrim, he met with Khaidir. Solomon believes the driver is also presented with the same question. But he does not know whether Khaidir answered it honestly.

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Until the afternoon, Taher has not seen the stem of his nose. In fact, from his home to the police station only takes an hour. That is if using public transport. With private vehicles faster than that. Although located in different districts, but the distance is not too far away.

As dark descended, the policeman came back to where Solomon and Khaidir waited. Ask if they have eaten or not. When answered yet, the cop kindly ordered someone to buy two packaged rice and two bottles of medium-size mineral water. After that, the cop was nowhere to be seen. He replaced others who again asked the problems facing Solomonn and Khaidir. They had to explain the same thing. And they were again asked to wait for Taher.

But until the evening the man did not show up. Solomon and Khaidir's waiting rooms moved into the cell of detention.

Solomon can not imagine what it looks like. He obeyed the police directions that led them all the way to the detention room. Solomon just figured they would sleep together there. But upon entering into it, Sulaiman and Khaidir were greeted with a number of pairs of eyes accompanied by comments that he could not hear clearly. The only sound that was clearly into Solomon's ear was the sound of a clashing iron door followed by a large locked lock.

A teenager was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt greeted him. "First report Dan Dan!" He shouted.

At first Solomon and Keng was a white man with narrow eyes. But when he saw the tip of the young man's yawning forefinger, his eyes met with a man of black and rough-faced. His hair was cropped.

"Who is he?" Solomon asked.

"And Keng, stupid! Commander of Kerangkeng! "

Solomon just understood in the detention room there is also a commander. Confused with a mixture of fear, he faced Dan Keng who was sitting leaning against the wall. Around them there were other prisoners who watched coldly. Khaidir followed Solomon's movements rigidly. His face was paler than Solomon. Likewise, the sweat on his forehead was more than Solomon.

Both sat cross-legged in front of Dan Keng.

"What's your fault?" Dan Keng asked before Solomon and Khaidir got a comfortable position.

"Selling ..." Solomon's voice sounded like it came from another realm.

"What sale? Sabu (drugs)? Marijuana? Or a weapon? "

"Tempe crackers ..."

There was a roar of laughter. Not just out of Dan Keng's mouth. It seemed that the entire prisoners' room was laughing out loud. Solomon and Khaidir just do not understand. They waited. After the laughter was over, the clumsy youth had poked Solomon's shoulder from behind.

"Hey ... stupid. Selling tempeh crackers just go to jail. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Tomorrow you sell sabu aja like me. Let go to jail, but can be a lot of money. You are a prisoner, too. Pity you deh! "

And the sound of laughter rumbled again. Long and long, until then came a guard who told them to shut up while banging clubs to the iron door. But the sound of laughter still sounded one or two. ***