Shadow Theatre

by Fiona Cheong

  "Dia was watching-lah."

  "Watching what?"

  "T'ak tabu-lab what he was looking for, but he could have been spying on us anyway, right?"

  "Maybe he wasn't a ghost. Maybe he was a dirty old man."

  "Ya-ah, maybe-ab? Alamak."

  That's two versions of the story only. Other so-called witnesses couldn't even remember whether the fellow was a man or a woman. Can you believe? In this third version, there was some speculation that it could be the same lady that the bus drivers used to see, you know that old story. The one about how after midnight, sometimes there would be one old lady waiting at the bus stop outside the graveyard.

  But she hadn't been seen in years, okay? (Of course every bus driver knew not to stop to pick her up. Some didn't even dare to look in the rearview mirror, not wanting to see that there was no one there.)

  No use asking Bernadette about this. She's already said she saw nothing. And I can tell you, she was already on her way home, so no wonder. Supposedly, the fellow was hiding in the trees almost directly across from Ying Ying Coleman's house. You know that's not where Bernadette's house is. No need to ask her again-lah.

  A' c;0PAI. I)IIARMA. if you can catch him on one of his better days. He was the first one to tell me. I was taking out the rubbish bag that night, and he happened to be outside. He was watering his fruit trees, since he didn't do it in the morning. (Rose still doesn't know he once proposed to me, okay? Me, imagine. It's true. Gopal Dharma proposed to me, back when he and I were both still young. My Hock Siew wasn't in the picture, yet. That's how long ago I mean. Of course, it shocked me when he did it. Nowadays, intermarriages are more common, but in those days? Can you imagine? And we were not really boyfriend and girlfriend, okay? Don't ask Gopal about this. He'll tell you something different, but I never saw it that way. It was a bit awkward-lah, when Hock Siew and I got married, and then when Gopal bought the house right next door to us, I thought, Alamak, now what? But it turned out to be nothing, okay? Maybe that was the only house available at the time-lah, for the price he could afford. I mean, in this area. I can understand trying to stay in this neighborhood. We grew up around here, bukan? That's why Hock Siew and I bought this house. I didn't feel like moving to another area, and my Hock Siew, he loved me so much, even though he himself wasn't from around here, he let me have my way.)

  "Good evening, Helena," Gopal started off. He was always formal like that.

  "Good evening," I responded. I didn't stop, okay? But when I reached the dustbin, I heard him ask, "How are you feeling?" and his tone of concern was what made me pause-lah. So I didn't answer right away, because I was wondering why he was asking me that.

  "1 saw you this morning," he went on. "In the market. You didn't see me waving to you?"

  "No, I didn't see you," I said to him, over my shoulder. I had no idea what he was talking about, okay? But over the years, had made it a habit not to linger-lah, where he was concerned. Don't tempt fate, bukan? So I just put the rubbish bag in the dustbin and closed the lid, and then I was going to walk straight back into the house.

  "I was going to ask if you wanted a lift home, but you disappeared so fast."

  "Oh," I said, as I turned around. No need to be rude-lah, so I smiled at him through the fence. 'Thanks, but that's my morning exercise, you know." Could be, that was a mistake, because of course, he smiled back.

  "Oh, then I would have asked if I could walk with you, just to share your company," he said.

  Can you imagine? Flirting with one old hag like me? Of course, my heart leapt a bit, but a bit only, and that's the truth. What to do? You take a man, you take a woman, what can you expect? You see how handsome Gopal Dharma is, even today? Imagine when we were young. I mean, before everything else. I tell you, in his heyday, he was more dashing than that boy Ivan, okay? So why didn't I go for him? That's what you want to know-lah. Looks aren't everything. Who can live on love and fresh air only? I'm not saying I was ever in love with him. As I've already said, we were not boyfriend and girlfriend. Passion and love are not the same thing, you know. And I never regretted marrying my Hock Siew, okay? Never.

  "You seemed a bit worried, this morning," Gopal went on. "Were you worried about something?" He was finished with his watering, you know, and now he was rolling up the hose and hanging it over the tap at the side of his house. That's why I thought it was okay-lah for me to chitchat a bit. Because surely, there were other things he had to do, his pupils' homework to mark, all that. So I thought for sure we would end up talking for a few minutes only.

  "No-lah, I wasn't really worried," I said. 'Just the heat." Of course, I wasn't going to bring up the topic of Auntie Coco's sister with him, whether or not he knew anything about it. Winifred Teo didn't say anything about him being outside, and neither did Bernadette.

  "Yes, it's getting worse," he said. He didn't come over to the fence, okay? Instead, he was walking to his front door, and then, he stood there a while, with one foot on the cement step, as if he couldn't decide-lah whether to go inside or not. I myself was at my own front door already.

  "Good-night," I said. Obviously, both of us were ready to go inside, even though he was hesitating a bit.

  "Good-night," he said. But he didn't move, okay?

  "Is there something you want to ask me?" Don't ask why I said that. Until today, I still don't know.

  Of course, he looked at me quite strangely. He wasn't expecting me to ask him that, bukan? And my heart, I tell you. Flapping here and there, like a wild hen waking up and finding itself in a cage. Ah, but luckily he didn't ask what I thought he was going to ask. He just said, "Did you hear about that old chap people around here have been seeing?"

  "What old chap?" I said, because remember, I hadn't heard about the fellow yet at the time.

  "The beggar in the graveyard. Be careful when you go out alone, you know? I think the children saw him first. They're always taking that short cut. You haven't heard? It seems he was seen again this afternoon."

  Don't ask how Gopal could have managed to find out before me. I was wondering about this myself. 'This afternoon, when?" I asked him. (Don't get me wrong. We didn't chat like this as a habit, okay? What I mean is, first of all, Gopal was not a gossipper. Second, as I've said, usually, I wouldn't linger around him.)

  "Oh, around five, between five and six, something like that. That's what I've heard. It seems he was hiding behind the trees, but people saw him from their windows. It must be the same chap. Probably some harmless vagabond, I suppose, but just to be safe, I've reported it to the police. I don't know if they're going to do anything."

  Do what? Definitely, I couldn't imagine our police spending their time searching the graveyard for one old beggar. But of course I didn't say so out loud. I just asked, "Which children saw him2"

  But that, Gopal didn't know. He said he had heard about it only. I'm sure he was surprised I didn't know anything, but of course, he had enough tact not to show it. Ah, so anyway, that's all we said to each other. Nothing personal, okay?

  So that's how I found out about the fellow-lah. Of course, later when Rose came home and then, finally, I got a chance to talk to her, I asked her about him also. But as it turned out, she also hadn't heard anything. You see-lah how hard it was to put two and two together. Right or not?

  WHISPERS

  FROM A FRIDAY

  REVISITED

  HEN THE FIRST breeze came, rushing through the lalang like a thief running, touching inside me like stiff lace, here and here and here, that was when I knew. Chilly air in my head, even though Che' Halimah had prepared me to see the lady. This time she will come with angels, tahu. Don't run when you feel the cold air." But I was afraid. At first I thought, how not to get up and run, even though Che' Halimah had advised me not to do that? My heart banging when the long grass started moving, scraping in the dark like the sharp blades of parangs. But Che' Halimah, she needed at least four of the star flowers. No, don't dig them up before the sun goes down. Otherwise, the flowers will
rot." They were the last things on the list, and after one whole week of looking for all the plants she needed, finally, I would be done.

  So I made myself stay.

  Like a thief running, like hands and feet burrowing through the long sharp stalks, that breeze came, over there to my left while I was digging. I could see the lalang dancing, to and fro near the wall of the yellow shrine, the one where long time ago, Che' Halimah was telling Bettina to bury the baby.

  Above my head, leaves blocking away the sky, blackest black like burnt paper, and everywhere, the milky sweetness of the bunga kubur. Frangipani, Abdul would say, with his perfect English pronunciation. My brother Abdul, his English getting better and better.

  And Bapa also was getting better, able to sit up in the hospital bed already.

  So I continued digging, to pay what I owed, while the lalang swayed and shook, over where the lady came through.

  "Al Y M I R s 1: R V I c' F:." Those were his first words, the one who stayed, his voice like warm rain. I hadn't been watching. I was kneeling there, concentrating on loosening the star flowers slowly so as not to break their roots, and suddenly he was behind me. Suddenly, I was turning, my banging heart turning against my will. The black leaves crumpling the sky, the lalang rumbling like sea waves along the shore, while his voice fell on my neck, turning me.

  So old his face was. It was the first thing I noticed, and then I saw the petals floating between us. Blue petals with brown streaks, and yellow petals, and red petals. Then I saw a bowl, where someone's hand was dipping in. She had painted fingernails, and one diamond wedding ring.

  "Do you remember me?" he asked. And the bowl and the petals, they disappeared.

  Che' Halimah had said to me, "Don't be afraid of the lady," but nothing about, "One of them will speak to you." Nothing about what to say.

  "Don't be afraid," he said.

  And then I was not afraid. His voice between us like wind carrying sunlight, like a door flying open. Him the one doing magic on me, so I tried to turn my face away.

  'There's no need to be afraid."

  Something was breathing in his hands, breathing like a bud, its shadow too small to see, but you could feel it. And the lalang was still shaking, over there by the yellow shrine, but the others all gone through now.

  Why was he speaking to me? I wondered. And Che' Halimah, why had she not warned me?

  "Do you remember? You were fifteen years old. You wore a blue dress."

  His words cracking me open, reaching inside me like a hand. Then it was too much. The last thing I saw was him leaning towards me, his body burning, his face flickering against the sky. Black leaves blowing everywhere.

  ABDUL WAS THE one who came looking for me, his voice the first thing I heard when I was waking up. Calling to me, "Kechil, where are you? Kechil!" Sending my name over the ground, sending it to me like his own breath. My name, this nickname they used to call me, because before Abdul was born, I had been the youngest: Kechil. Abdul's voice was already changing, and I could hear he sounded just like Mahmud when he called to me. And the thought beat like a stick against my heart, making one spreading blue-black bruise.

  Maybe his voice was the thing that had woken me, calling again and again, "Kechil!" until I was able to open my eyes.

  There was something stuck to the branch directly overhead, one torn, dead piece, like something shrivelled up. Around it, the leaves were ticking, and a hit of light shone out just behind, between that branch and the sky. Then one last breeze passed through, going through my bones. And it was over.

  And I saw Abdul, standing in the lalang, with his friend Matthew, that Eurasian boy with the Chinese mother, the one with his father always yelling at him. That one. He also was there that night.

  "Kechil!" Abdul's voice was afraid, when he came running.

  "Kenapa sini?" I asked him, when he bent down to help me. His arms still thin like a boy's arms, but becoming strong, I could feel. One hand underneath my left wrist, his other hand on my right elbow, he helped me to balance myself as I stood up.

  "Why are you here?" he said, repeating my question to me.

  His friend Matthew walked over, a hush following him in the darkness. Always, I could hear that boy's footsteps tender on the ground.

  "And what are these for?" Abdul asked, when he noticed my basket with the star flowers. "You came here just to collect these things?"

  "What time is it?" I asked him. How come Che' Halimah had not come looking for me? She was the only one who knew exactly where I was.

  "Almost midnight," Abdul said, and he asked again, "So, eh, what are the flowers for?"

  "For cooking-lah," I said. "How long did you look for me?"

  "Maybe half-an-hour or so." Abdul turned to check with his friend, who was kneeling beside the basket now. "Right?"

  Matthew nodded. He kept on looking at the flowers, some kind of yearning inside him spilling out when he smiled at me, as if there was a secret he was keeping, which he thought I knew about.

  "Eh, what happened?" Abdul asked. "Did you faint or something?"

  "You see anyone else or not?" I asked him, just to be sure.

  "You mean here? At this hour?" Abdul shook his head at me, as if he was the elder brother. "Who else gila like you? Everyone else, when they go out for a walk, this isn't where they go for a walk, you know."

  I told you before, that's why it's safe here, ya? The only people who dare to come in here at night," I started, but he interrupted me.

  "I know, I know. Because their hearts are pure, they know they have nothing to fear." He gave a huge sigh, just like Bapa when he did that. "You haven't heard about that guy? We heard about him today. Right, Matthew?"

  Matthew nodded, still kneeling beside the basket.

  "What guy?" I asked, my heart getting nervous.

  "Some guy's been hanging around our school, and they've seen him at St. Agnes and Our Lady of Lourdes also. Some people think he's just a beggar, except he never asks for money. He likes to talk to children. Brother Dennis thinks he might be a child molester."

  It was him, the angel who had stayed behind, who had done magic on me. Was it because he thought I was Bettina? She was the one, my sister, who had been wearing a blue dress when she was raped. My heart became more nervous.

  "The teachers haven't seen him." Matthew was speaking now, his voice quieter than Abdul's, soft like the soil after rain.

  Then Abdul took over again. "No, that's right. None of the teachers have seen him. They say at the girls' schools, the teachers haven't seen him, either."

  "He only appears to children," whispered Matthew, dipping his hand into the basket.

  "You better watch out for him," Abdul said, while I was thinking how to make them go home without me. More than ever now, I must bring Che' Halimah her flowers, I thought, so that after that, my part would be finished. Whatever was going on, I didn't want to join in.

  Matthew was running his fingers through the flowers, and that was when I saw. There were more than two of the star flowers. More even than four. The basket was full.

  "WHY YOU DIDN'T come to look for me?" I asked Che' Halimah, when I got there. As soon as she opened the door, I couldn't stop myself, my mouth opening like your dress hem coming loose. "Why you just left me alone? You didn't worry what was happening to me?"

  "I didn't leave you alone." Her voice calm as the night itself, quiet as the night was now. Quiet as if her words were not words. As if her words leaves and grass, her words the fragrant air, the rain coming that we could smell.

  Behind her, shadows darted around the room, but at first, I saw nobody there. A red candle was burning on Che' Halimah's kitchen table. Next to the candle, there were some pieces of yellow cloth, and a wooden bowl like the bowl I had seen with the oil in it, but this one was empty.

  "You didn't worry?" I asked her, although my heart whispered to itself, Kechil, how you dare speak to Che' Halimah like that? And yet, my tongue couldn't stop. "And you didn't tell me everything. You did
n't warn me."

  Che' Halimah looked past my head as if Abdul and Matthew were outside, but I knew they were not there. I had left them sleeping at home, Matthew staying over in Abdul's room like sometimes he would. I had made sure they were both asleep, before I had come over again. My brother was still a boy in the end, never mind his grown-up ways.

  Then she looked at me, her face in the darkness as if itself a shadow, only her eyes clear and shining. "You are okay now?" she asked me. Her voice tender because she knew. "Your father is okay now?"

  "Yes," I said. "The fever is gone."

  Che' Halimah, she knew I could see the shadows. "Mahu masok, t'ak?" she asked.

  Quiet her voice, tender her voice, but I didn't want to go in. I was becoming afraid again. Whatever Che' Halimah was doing, I didn't want to know. So I gave her the basket, with no explanation about how it had become so full of the star flowers. I told her only, "I must go home," hoping she would think because it was so late, already after midnight, as if she couldn't feel my fear.

  "Okay," she said. "Go before the rain comes. Otherwise, you'll get wet."

  And that was all.

  But as I was turning away, I smelled bunga kubur drifting from across the room. And then I saw he was there, bending in the corner between the oven and the corridor that took you to Che' Halimah's bedroom. Definitely it was him. One moment human, another moment whoosh! Only black leaves swirling in the candlelight. He was looking at something on the ground, something at his feet, and his right hand was holding up a kris. I saw the silver blade flash in the candlelight.

  And in the corridor, there was someone else. Someone whispered Jibrail, Jibrail, when he swung back his arm, the kris rising in the darkness. Then he let go and it dropped straight down, and I saw on the ground a round, hard fruit, almost like a coconut. I saw the kris fall into it, and the shell split open, and light burst out, suddenly like that, bathing the air. I knew if I looked up, I would see the face of whoever was in the corridor, but I didn't look in that direction.