by Ming Cher
“That’s all I need to know,” the General said. “Koon Thong has the upper hand to get him first. We will need to be ready after our meeting tomorrow. Must be a lot of funny business going on inside that redbrick house.”
“Not my business any more,” Kwang said as they entered the Malay kampong; the thatched-roofed houses were raised on stilts against the frequent monsoon flooding, had wide pathways between them, and possessed a kind of serenity in the quiet neighbourhood under the moonlight.
“My house is over there,” Big Mole said and pointed. Her two-bedroom stilt house was over seven feet above the ground, and half a dozen chickens lived underneath in a coop. It was fenced sparsely by frangipani trees, their top branches reaching over the roof, creating a more secluded atmosphere and producing a lovely fragrance when the buds blossomed into flowers, especially after midnight. According to local myth, the scent of the frangipani was associated with the pontianak, but Big Mole had always loved the smell.
That night, they all went straight to bed, the end of such a long, eventful day. Kwang dreamt about a little green angel and a little red devil growing taller and taller as they stepped down from a train. The little angel said, “See everything as beautiful.” Kwang blinked at her, and her face transformed into that of Big Mole. The little devil said, “See everything as powerful,” and his face changed into Hong’s. Kwang peered inside the train and saw the faces of Sachee, the loose cannon, the small-time thief, the fly-by-night and other faces he couldn’t quite remember.
3
All in the Same Wok
The cocks crowed at dawn on Saturday morning, and Kwang woke with a painful erection. He had gone to sleep wearing only his underwear, as it had been a hot night. Soon after, Big Mole pushed open the door to his room, wearing only a sarong wrapped around her body under the armpits, shoulders bare, in the style of many Malay women at home. She stood in the doorway, pretending not to notice his morning wood, and asked quietly, “You sleep okay?”
“Mmm, not bad.” He crossed his legs and grabbed his pants from the chair nearby, draping them sideways over his lap.
Big Mole didn’t turn away. She stepped into the room and said, “I am cooking breakfast. What kind of eggs do you like—half-boil or what?”
“Half-boil is nice,” he replied. The dream was still fresh in his mind, and he wondered what the little red devil had meant. “Hong wake up yet?”
“No. He always wake up a lot later, around ten or eleven. What about you?”
“I am always up before six to get ready for work. What’s the time now?”
“Nearly half past five. When are you going to Pasir Panjang?”
“I will think about that later. Wait for Hong to get up before I go.”
Big Mole looked at Kwang, the memory of his arms around her so long ago rushing back again. She stepped into the room, closed the door, sat near him on the canvas bed and whispered, “Need to talk to you first. Hong is not same person any more—he has changed overnight. I cannot sleep because he keep mumbling about Koon Thong this, Koon Thong that, all night long. I don’t want anything to do with his Koon Thong talk any more. Look at what happen yesterday—I nearly die for nothing. It was his fault, not mine. I don’t blame him, but all he care for is his Koon Thong, that’s all. Tell me what to do?” Tears trickled down her cheeks.
He said calmly, “You are in a tight situation. Don’t let that worry you. You better stay at home. Don’t go to your shop today; is not safe after what happen. It’s better for you to let Hong look after the shop for now. Talk to him first, see what he has to say. Decide later.”
His quiet words made sense. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. “Yes, you are right. I will decide later.”
“Live for now first.” He patted her bare shoulder gently to console her. Even though his palms were rough like sandpaper, his touch on her tender skin was comforting, assuring. Electricity coursed through her body, turning her on like Hong never had. She guided his hand to her beating heart, then pulled off the nob tying her sarong around her armpits, causing the fabric to fall freely and reveal her naked body to him. He trembled as he realised how beautiful she had become; he had gotten used to thinking of her as the Big Mole of his childhood, but she was clearly now a woman. She reached over to hug him, her breasts pressing hard against his lean frame.
“Live for now first—that’s what you say,” she murmured, breathing hard in his ear.
“No, this is not right, Big Mole. We can’t do this behind Hong’s back,” he said, cursing himself as he nuzzled her hair; she smelt so fresh, so full, so sweet, so everything. It was no surprise when his erection returned even fiercer than before. She pulled down his underwear, and he kissed her hard. She pushed him onto his back, to mount him from above, but then they heard the sound of somebody coming up the squeaky stairs of her stilt house.
“Must be Sachee coming back!” she said and grabbed her sarong to wrap it around herself again. Kwang hurriedly grabbed his pants and put them on. “I will be back,” she promised, before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her to check the source of the sound. She was right, it was Fearless Sachee, her “little brother” who would do anything for her. “Hey, Sachee,” she said, blocking the front doorway with her hand. “Can you do me a small favour?”
“What’s that, Big Mole?” Sachee asked, standing a few steps below her.
“Get me some salty pancakes from outside the kampong market?”
“Do that later, can? I want to sleep first one.”
“Kwang is here, sleeping in your room. I want to make him some eggs for breakfast to go with it.”
“Yah? Is he still sleeping or what?”
“Yah, still sleeping,” she lied.
“Okay lah, I go now lah. How many pancakes you want?”
“What about yourself—you want any?”
“Yes, I want two.”
Big Mole counted on her fingers. “Kwang probably take three, one for Hong, one for me, two for you. Get seven pancakes and one packet of Camel cigarettes for Kwang also. Just wait there awhile—I get you the money.” She stepped backwards into the kitchen to get a few dollars from the kitchen drawer, and then passed them to Sachee, who left for the market. She tiptoed back to her bedroom to check on the General; Hong was sleeping like a log, still mumbling about Koon Thong under his breath.
She went back to Kwang’s room and said, “Hong is deep in his own dream. Let’s have ours.” They embraced, shed their clothes and made love with desperate passion, clinging to each other for a long time afterward.
It took Sachee nearly an hour to return with the seven salty pancakes. By then, Big Mole was in the kitchen, boiling water for coffee on the kerosene stove. Sachee looked exhausted from his night out. “Kwang still sleeping?” he asked as he put the pancakes on the kitchen table.
“No, just woke up lor. He is having his morning bath at the well.”
“What about Hong?”
“Oh yes, the General still sleeping. Why?”
“I want to talk more about Koon Thong.”
“Don’t disturb lah. He is very tired from all the things that happen yesterday. You also go and have some sleep. I wake you up for breakfast. You want half-boil eggs also?”
“No lah. I prefer onion omelette.”
“Okay,” she said. “I wake you up later.”
Normally, she would encourage Sachee to talk about what he was up to, but all she could think about was Kwang. When he came back from his bath, his salty pancakes and half-boiled eggs were ready on the kitchen table, along with a mug of black coffee. There was no need for words; they ate their breakfast together in contented silence.
When they had finished, the table clock in the kitchen showed nearly 9am. Big Mole gave Kwang the pack of Camel cigarettes bought by Sachee, then went to the well for her morning bath and to wash her clothes. He smoked the Camels while resting on the rattan couch in the spartan lounge decorated only with Hong’s bookshelves, which w
ere stacked with volumes of classic Chinese novels such as The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Water Margin, The True Story of Ah Q and The Art of War by Sun Tzu. As a primary school dropout, Kwang wished he could read in Chinese like Hong, who had left his privately-funded Chinese school at 14 after his locksmith parents had died in a tragic car accident.
After Big Mole returned, she woke up Sachee and the General and called them to eat their breakfast. Kwang sat again at the kitchen table and had another cup of coffee. “You should come again, Kwang,” she said openly. “Stay another night and have dinner with us.”
Kwang avoided eye contact with Hong and looked sideways at Sachee. “Can I stay again?”
“Of course lah! My room is your room,” Sachee said, his mouth full of food.
Big Mole looked at Sachee. “You have a good time out last night?”
“I never go to the bar,” Sachee replied. “I go to a friend’s place to talk about Koon Thong.”
The General was delighted to hear that. “Let me talk to them about that, Sachee.”
Sachee nodded. “That’s what I say.”
“Good. Bring them to our shop.” The General talked as though he had forgot it was Big Mole’s shop, and not his.
“Sure, when?”
“Later. We must get that Temple Street tiger first. Kwang found out where he is nesting. I go check out his place at Spottiswoode Park Road today, find a way to get him.”
“Want me to come?”
“That is very helpful, Sachee. I was going to ask you,” the General said, wanting to make Fearless Sachee feel important.
“Hong ah,” Big Mole interrupted, “who will fix the broken back door of my shop?”
“Don’t worry lah,” the General assured her. “Leave that to me.”
Kwang smoked his Camels and said, “I think is better for Hong and Sachee, or somebody else, to run your shop for you right now. You work from home if you know what is inside your shop.”
“Yah lah, that’s what I need,” Big Mole agreed immediately. “I don’t feel safe in my shop any more.”
The General nodded. “Kwang has a point. I do the stock-taking and look after the shop. Leave that to me for a week or two.”
“Okay, but I sack you if you can’t do that,” Big Mole said with a smile. “Agree or not?”
“Agree lah,” the General replied seriously. “You have my word.”
“What time you going today?” she asked, hoping to get him out of the house soon.
“Right now,” he said and stood up, as if on a mission. “I go for Koon Thong meeting with Sachee at 11am, and stick a ‘closed for a week’ notice on the shop front door and see how it goes.”
“Okay. And when you come back?”
“Not exactly sure,” he said. “Don’t wait for me. I have lots to do. Might not come back tonight. Most probably sleep in the shop to keep everybody informed in one place. Have to move fast-fast to get that tiger before he get us.”
“Go now lor,” Sachee said and stood.
Big Mole saw the General and Sachee off at the doorway, and as soon as they were out of sight, Big Mole and Kwang were on each other again, making love on the kitchen table, the rattan couch in the lounge, the canvas bed in Sachee’s room, and in Big Mole’s bed, exhausting themselves completely and falling asleep in each other’s arms until the alarm clock rang at noon.
“Don’t go away so soon,” she said. “Let’s go to Changi Beach for a swim, or see a movie later. Will you come with me? I have not done things like that for a long time because of my shop.”
“Why not?” he replied. “I go to Pasir Panjang later.”
So they got cleaned up and dressed, and walked out of the big Malay kampong to catch the bus to Changi. On the way to the bus stop, Big Mole said, “You see the look on Hong’s face? He look like a little devil, the way he keep talking about Koon Thong.”
“Little devil?” Kwang said, reminded of his dream.
“Yah lah, a little red devil with horns, like in comic books,” she whispered in his ear playfully. She wore a batik skirt with a breezy white blouse, and carried a cotton shoulder bag.
“Well,” he grinned, “if Hong is a little devil, then who are you?”
“You tell me,” she said, elbowing him gently. “Who am I?”
“That’s my secret,” he said, thinking of the little green angel. She slapped his arm lightly for teasing her.
The bus soon arrived, half-empty, as it usually was during off-peak times. They held hands in the back seat and enjoyed the view out the windows. It felt like a honeymoon.
The tide was out when they finally reached the bus terminal near the long sandy section of Changi Beach. Although the low tide was not good for swimming, they were still happy to just walk together in the breeze on the beach. Big Mole said, “When I come here with Sachee last time, we buy some very fresh fish from the sampan fishermen, like those over there!” She pointed at the jetty half a mile away. “Let’s go and see what they catch!”
“Okay,” he said, pretending to run. She took off for real and ran ahead, looking back at him and laughing. He grinned and watched as she took off her sandals, her wavy hair falling to one side; she brushed it aside with a hand as she stood up, looking carefree, living in the moment. Her long skirt and blouse flapped in the wind. She lifted her skirt to wade into the shallow water and asked, “You want to see a movie at Katong later?”
“Up to you lah,” he said. He felt happy just watching her walk a few steps ahead of him.
“Hey, do you have a girlfriend somewhere?” she asked, hanging back so that they once again walked side by side.
“Yes, plenty in the air!” he joked loudly and gestured to the seagulls hovering in the wind above them. Before them, the sandy beach was dotted with only a few people catching sandworms over one foot long, to use as fish bait. They lured the worms up by sprinkling wet breadcrumbs over the wet sand, and once the worms popped up their heads to nibble at the breadcrumbs, they could be pulled out swiftly and kept alive in a tin can.
“You coming back to see me after you visit Pasir Panjang?”
“Yah lah, but can’t say when. Don’t know how long the funeral arrangements going to take.” He looked ahead as they approached the sampan’s jetty and saw a crowd gathering there.
“The fishermen must have make a big catch or something,” she guessed and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the curious crowd, squeezing their way to the front. Big Mole gasped loudly as, instead of a large haul of fish, they saw the bodies of the three gangsters who had attacked her last night, definitely dead, floating in the shallow part of the jetty under a foot of water. They still rested partly inside the gunny sacks, which had been torn open by some animal, maybe sharks. Big Mole held Kwang’s hand tightly, and they walked away from the beach and back towards the bus terminal.
“I can’t believe what just happened,” Kwang said. “Did Hong and Sachee tell you where they dumped the bodies last night?”
“No, no, they didn’t,” Big Mole shook her head. “I wouldn’t come here if so. I know the rules. They don’t talk; I don’t ask. Why are you asking me that?”
“Just strange to see those guys from last night now, ah?”
“Life is strange. It always is.”
“What do you mean?”
“When things are going to happen, they will happen.”
“Maybe there is magic in the air,” he joked nervously.
“Of course lah,” she said. “See everything as beautiful.”
It reminded him of the exact words the green angel had said in his dream. He looked at her. She stared back at him. He became quiet, bewildered by the coincidence.
“Nothing can change what happen,” she said as they arrived at the bus terminal. “Let’s go and see movie, take our minds off it.”
So they sombrely caught the next bus to Katong Cinema and watched the only film playing, called Yi Lan Wan, which was Mandarin for Unforgettable.
•
As
Kwang and Big Mole furiously made love in her kampong house, all the backdoor rats arrived on time for their 11am Koon Thong meeting. They came in twos and threes, and sat around the long scaffolding table at the backyard. The General was pleased about that—it meant they took him seriously. He kept looking at his watch to catch their attention, stood up at exactly 11am, raised his finger, and said cockily, “We cannot work for the gods, like the cops. But can work for the devil, who never blame anybody, and get all the blame, like us!” He pointed at himself to re-direct their attention, and to make them laugh at themselves. He knew they could relate to that.
He continued: “We are not here for nothing. We are all in the same wok, in Koon Thong!” He raised his voice, and they all nodded accordingly. “To walk together as one in Koon Thong, we only need one rule: honesty. Honesty is our policy, our way to raise the flag for Koon Thong. Agree or not?” He stared the backdoor rats in the eye, and not a single one of them disagreed. They muttered to each other, in a brotherly manner, “That’s what we need—be honest with each other.”
To give his own honesty more credit, the General took out the three gangsters’ watches and wallets, and handed them over to the quiet one, who was sitting opposite him on the bench. “That’s what I pick up from those three bastards last night,” he said. “I can’t tell how much that worth. Anyone make a guess?”
The quiet one had a reputation for pricing hot goods. This skill had become his speciality after he had been released from prison. He examined the items carefully and said, “I know somebody who take the Rolex with black face for $200, the two Seiko 5s for $25 each. So $250 altogether lah.”
“What’s about the wallets?” the General said.
The quiet one counted out over $600 in large-denomination notes altogether. He spread the notes out on the table.
“I know is not much.” The General tapped the money. “I am sure more come from the nest of that tiger. I have some idea of where he is. Sachee and I go check that out, but before we go, I think everyone all deserve $20 each for a start.” He gestured at the quiet one, who was more than happy to play his role as the treasurer of Koon Thong. In front of everyone, the money was distributed. When everyone had received his share, someone asked, “Where Big Mole ah?”