The Midnight Snowplow

By midnight, it has been snowing for nine hours, and the highway has been closed since eight. Calla keeps her plow moving anyway. The blade throws a white wave across the verge, and an amber light turns on the cab roof. Every twenty minutes, the dispatcher's voice comes through the radio to ask whether she is still alive. "Still here," she answers each time.

Menjelang tengah malam, salju sudah turun selama sembilan jam, dan jalan raya ditutup sejak pukul delapan. Calla tetap menjalankan bajak saljunya. Bilahnya melemparkan gelombang putih ke tepi jalan, dan sebuah lampu kuning menyala di atap kabin. Setiap dua puluh menit, suara petugas pengatur terdengar lewat radio untuk menanyakan apakah ia masih hidup. "Masih di sini," jawabnya setiap kali.

The cab smells of diesel and of the ginger tea in her flask. She has driven this stretch for eleven winters and knows every curve by feel, which is lucky, because tonight she can see about thirty meters.

Kabin itu berbau solar dan teh jahe dari termosnya. Sebelas musim dingin ia mengemudi di ruas ini dan hafal setiap tikungan lewat perasaan, dan itu beruntung, karena malam ini ia hanya bisa melihat sekitar tiga puluh meter.

At twenty to one, she notices a dark shape in a drift on the far side of the road. It is a car roof under a mound of snow, with a thin thread of exhaust hanging above it. She stops the plow. "Dispatch, there's a car buried at the quarry turning," she says. "Checking for people."

Pukul satu kurang dua puluh, ia melihat sebuah bayangan gelap di tumpukan salju di seberang jalan. Itu atap sebuah mobil di bawah gundukan salju, dengan seutas tipis asap knalpot menggantung di atasnya. Ia menghentikan bajaknya. "Pengatur, ada mobil terkubur di belokan tambang," katanya. "Saya periksa apakah ada orang."

She pulls on her gloves and wades through knee-deep snow. The car's windows are fogged, and in the fog someone has drawn a smiley face with a finger. She knocks. A man opens the door a crack. Behind him, a woman sits with a sleeping child across her lap. A second child stares at Calla's reflective jacket as if she were an astronaut.

Ia mengenakan sarung tangan dan berjalan menembus salju setinggi lutut. Kaca-kaca mobil itu berembun, dan di embun itu seseorang menggambar wajah tersenyum dengan jari. Ia mengetuk. Seorang pria membuka pintu sedikit. Di belakangnya, seorang wanita duduk dengan seorang anak tertidur di pangkuannya. Anak kedua menatap jaket reflektif Calla seakan ia seorang astronaut.

"We took the wrong turn at the junction," the man says. "We should have turned back when we saw the closed sign. We've been running the engine ten minutes every hour to save fuel."

"Kami salah belok di persimpangan," kata pria itu. "Seharusnya kami berbalik begitu melihat tanda jalan ditutup. Kami menyalakan mesin sepuluh menit setiap jam untuk menghemat bahan bakar."

"That was smart," Calla says. "Stay inside. I'll be quick."

"Itu pintar," kata Calla. "Tetaplah di dalam. Saya akan cepat."

She returns to the plow, angles the blade and clears the snow around the car in three slow passes. A black strip of road shows underneath. Then she fetches her flask. The lid becomes a cup, and it goes around the car: the older child first, then the mother, then the father.

Ia kembali ke bajak, memiringkan bilahnya, dan membersihkan salju di sekeliling mobil dalam tiga lintasan pelan. Sebidang jalan hitam tampak di bawahnya. Lalu ia mengambil termosnya. Tutupnya menjadi cangkir, dan cangkir itu berkeliling di dalam mobil: anak yang lebih besar dahulu, lalu sang ibu, lalu sang ayah.

"It tastes of ginger and a little bit of diesel," the mother says, almost laughing.

"Rasanya seperti jahe dan sedikit solar," kata sang ibu, hampir tertawa.

"That's the cup," Calla says. "Not the tea."

"Itu cangkirnya," kata Calla. "Bukan tehnya."

The radio crackles. The dispatcher says that the nearest lit building is the motel in Carrow, eleven kilometers away, and that it is still open. Calla explains the plan to the father. "Follow my taillights. Stay close, don't overtake, and if I stop, you stop."

Radio berderak. Petugas pengatur mengatakan bahwa bangunan terdekat yang masih menyala adalah motel di Carrow, sebelas kilometer jauhnya, dan masih buka. Calla menjelaskan rencananya kepada sang ayah. "Ikuti lampu belakang saya. Tetap dekat, jangan menyalip, dan kalau saya berhenti, Anda berhenti."

"If you went any faster, we would lose you," he says.

"Kalau Anda lebih cepat lagi, kami akan kehilangan Anda," katanya.

"Exactly."

"Tepat sekali."

The drive takes fifty minutes. The plow crawls at twelve kilometers an hour. The little car follows so closely that Calla keeps checking her mirror, where two headlights swim in a cloud of white. Twice, the wind fills the road again, and she backs up to clear it. Once, the headlights disappear, and her stomach drops, until they reappear from behind a drift.

Perjalanan itu memakan lima puluh menit. Bajak itu merayap dua belas kilometer per jam. Mobil kecil itu mengikuti begitu dekat sampai Calla terus memeriksa kaca spionnya, tempat dua lampu depan berenang dalam awan putih. Dua kali angin memenuhi jalan lagi, dan ia mundur untuk membersihkannya. Sekali, lampu-lampu itu menghilang, dan perutnya serasa jatuh, sampai lampu itu muncul kembali dari balik tumpukan salju.

At half past two, the lights of Carrow come into view. There is a gas station, one traffic light blinking yellow and a motel sign that buzzes in the dark. The mother climbs out and tries to speak, but Calla waves it off. "Stay off the highway until morning," she says. "The road will be cleared by seven."

Pukul setengah tiga, lampu-lampu Carrow tampak. Ada sebuah pom bensin, satu lampu lalu lintas yang berkedip kuning, dan papan motel yang berdengung dalam gelap. Sang ibu turun dan mencoba berbicara, tetapi Calla menepisnya. "Jangan masuk jalan raya sampai pagi," katanya. "Jalan akan dibersihkan pukul tujuh."

The older child runs back across the snow and holds something up to the window. It is the flask lid. He says nothing, and neither does she.

Anak yang lebih besar berlari kembali melintasi salju dan mengangkat sesuatu ke jendela. Itu tutup termos. Ia tidak berkata apa-apa, dan Calla pun tidak.

Calla screws it back on. In her mirror, the family disappears through a lit doorway. She lowers the blade, turns the plow around and lifts the radio. "Dispatch, it's Calla. The road is open as far as Carrow. I'm going back for the rest of it."

Calla memasangnya kembali. Di kaca spionnya, keluarga itu menghilang melewati ambang pintu yang terang. Ia menurunkan bilah, memutar bajak, dan mengangkat radio. "Pengatur, ini Calla. Jalan terbuka sampai Carrow. Saya kembali untuk mengerjakan sisanya."

Behind her, the snow is already filling her tracks.

Di belakangnya, salju sudah mulai menutupi jejaknya.