Source: Pexels, modified
The Paint It Black coffee shop was on Aristotle Street, near the Marx Garden, a park where students often protest. The shop had a narrow inner space but the pedestrian in front of it was wide.
In the past, before the pandemic, many students majoring in music sat there just to chat or write papers on their laptops. Now the shop was quiet. Only a few tables occupied. 1970s jazz music was heard softly from Radio Rising Star on the loudspeaker near the shop entrance.
From afar, the girl wearing a black pullover hoodie jacket and black bucket hat stood out. Maxim sat in front of her. They seemed to have fun chatting. Occasionally the girl seemed to laugh.
We approached them. Octavio Paz was the first to greet Maxim. Max returned the greeting and invited us to join him.
The table usually fitted four people but this time it had only two chairs. There were restrictions on the number of visitors at this shop. Octavio dragged other table and chairs.
I sat next to Maxim The Saxophonist. I dared not sit near Annelice. To be more precise, I would be nervous if I was next to her. Octavio went into the shop to order coffee. I had chosen Aceh Gayo Arabica coffee. Black coffee. Octavio snapped his fingers as I chose the type of coffee. He himself loved Colombian coffee. Usually the thinner Americano.
Maxim patted my shoulder. "What's the matter? Octavio said you nearly fainted," he said.
"I don't know. My head is suddenly dizzy," I said.
"That's a bad sign. You have to take care of your health. Especially in a pandemic like now," he said.
I nodded.
"Anyway, this is Annelice. Annelice, this is Iwank," said Maxim.
Annelice nodded her head and holding her palms together vertically in front of her face. A kind of namaste. I did the same.
"Annelice is a friend of our family. She comes from Netherland. She lived with us for a long time before starting to study music at Buskeria University," said Max.
I nodded. Now the mystery of the girl in the black hat began to be solved. I was happy with Maxim's story, even though I wasn't completely relieved.
"Iwank was a busker in City Garden before moving to Wittgenstein Street. He's a talented musician and I think he should consider studying music," said Maxim.
"Oh, you are a professional musician. If you have time you can study music at university," said Annelice.
His voice was clear like a water splash in a river. Her blue eyes were a shade. It must be very comfortable sleeping there, I thought. My mind was rambling again. Bob Dylan's song, One More Cup of Coffee, echoed in my head.
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark
One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below
Octavio finally came with two cups of coffee. He gave me a cup. Aceh Gayo Coffee. This was the type of coffee I tasted for the first time when I visited Aceh, Indonesia. Since then, I found it hard to forget.
"Maybe I'll go to college if I have money," I said, turning to look at Annelice.
Annelice nodded. "There are scholarships for professional musicians like you. You can try it," she said.
My heart was beating louder. If I went to college, I could meet her often. This was a brilliant idea. The dizziness in my head suddenly disappeared. Whether because of Gayo coffee or the hope to continue meeting her. I wanted to dance but Max would surely be surprised and would interrogate me. Ah, I'd dance at home later, I thought.
To be continued...
Source: Viktoria Alipatova from Pexels
Mimpi Menjadi Bintang (Bagian 13): One More Cup of Coffee
Kedai kopi Paint It Black berada di Aristotle Street, dekat Marx Garden, taman tempat mahasiswa sering berunjuk rasa. Kedai itu punya ruang dalam yang sempit tapi pedestrian di depannya luas.
Dulu, sebelum pandemi, banyak mahasiswa jurusan seni musik yang duduk di situ untuk sekadar kongko atau menulis paper di laptopnya. Kini kedai itu sepi. Hanya beberapa meja yang terisi. Alunan musik jazz tahun 1970-an terdengar lirih dari Radio Rising Star di loudspeaker dekat pintu masuk kedai.
Dari jauh, gadis yang mengenakan pullover hoodie jacket hitam dan bucket hat hitam itu tampak menonjol. Maxim duduk di depannya. Mereka tampak berbincang-bincang seru. Sesekali gadis itu tampak tertawa.
Kami mendekati mereka. Octavio Paz yang pertama menyapa Max. Max membalas sapaan itu dan mengundang kami untuk bergabung.
Meja itu biasanya muat untuk empat orang tapi kali ini cuma didampingi dua kursi. Ada pembatasan jumlah pengunjung di kedai ini. Octavio menarik meja dan kursi lain dan merapatkannya ke meja mereka.
Aku duduk di sebelah Maxim The Saxophonist. Aku tak berani duduk dekat Annelice. Lebih tepatnya aku pasti akan grogi bila berada di sampingnya. Octavio masuk ke dalam kedai untuk memesan kopi. Aku sudah memilih kopi Arabica Gayo Aceh. Black coffee. Octavio menjentikkan jarinya saat aku memilih jenis kopi itu. Dia sendiri senang kopi Colombia. Biasanya Americano yang lebih encer.
Maxim menepuk pundakku. "Ada apa? Octavio bilang kau tadi nyaris pingsan," kata dia.
"Aku tidak tahu. Kepalaku tiba-tiba pening," kataku.
"Itu pertanda buruk. Kau harus menjaga kesehatanmu. Terutama di masa pandemi seperti sekarang ini," kata dia.
Aku mengangguk.
"Oya, kenalkan ini Annelice. Annelice, ini Iwank," kata Maxim.
Annelice menganggukkan kepala dan menangkupkan kedua telapak tangannya di depan mukanya. Salam namaste. Aku berbuat serupa.
"Annelice ini sahabat keluarga kami. Dia berasal dari Belanda. Dia sempat lama tinggal bersama kami sebelum mulai kuliah jurusan musik di Buskeria University," kata Max.
Aku mengangguk-angguk. Kini misteri gadis bertopi hitam ini mulai terang. Aku senang atas cerita Maxim meskipun belum sepenuhnya lega.
"Iwank ini pengamen di City Garden sebelum pindah ke Wittgenstein Street. Dia pemusik berbakat dan kurasa dia perlu mempertimbangkan untuk kuliah jurusan musik," kata Maxim.
"Oh, kau pemusik profesional. Kalau ada waktu kau bisa belajar musik di universitas," kata Annelice.
Suaranya jernih seperti kecipak air di sungai. Mata birunya teduh. Pasti nyaman sekali tidur di sana, pikirku. Pikiranku melantur lagi. Lagu Bob Dylan, One More Cup of Coffee, menggema di kepalaku.
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark
One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below
Octavio akhirnya datang bersama dua cangkir kopi. Dia memberikan satu cangkir kepadaku. Kopi Gayo Aceh. Ini jenis kopi yang pertama kali kucicip ketika berkunjung ke Aceh, Indonesia. Sejak itu, aku sukar melupakannya.
"Mungkin nanti aku akan kuliah kalau ada uang," kataku sambil menengok ke Annelice.
Annelice mengangguk. "Ada beasiswa bagi pemusik profesional sepertimu. Kau boleh mencobanya," kata dia.
Jantungku berdegup lebih keras. Kalau aku kuliah, aku bisa sering bertemu dengannya. Ini ide brilian. Pening di kepalaku mendadak hilang. Entah karena kopi Gayo atau harapan untuk bertemu terus dengannya. Aku ingin menari tapi Max pasti akan heran dan akan menginterogasiku. Ah, aku menarinya nanti saja di rumah, pikirku.
Bersambung...
Source: Daria Obymaha from Pexels
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