by Zen Cho
That was a few weeks ago. Since then it had been hard to get any time alone. Jess had had little excursions out of the house with the family—trips to the cinema, kopitiam breakfasts, picnics at the beach. She was aware of a conspiracy to keep her entertained, as though she was a small child.
She’d gone along with it, even enjoyed the sensation of being lovingly smothered. She knew she was being treated gently. Kor Kor had suggested having her exorcized by her pastor, but the subject was dropped without Jess even having to say anything. She suspected her dad had intervened, but she hadn’t troubled herself to find out. She’d felt like she was recovering from more than physical injuries.
Her unpaid employment by Kor Tiao had ended by mutual agreement. She hadn’t exactly been hustling since then. She’d figured applying for jobs and doing something about the photographs of Penang she’d accumulated could wait for when she was feeling less like warmed-over crap.
But maybe some benign deity had finally taken pity on her. As she was idly scrolling through her emails one day, she saw that the job at Sharanya’s university had come up again.
It had felt like a sign. She hadn’t heard from Sharanya since they’d fought. But Jess had sent in an application, feeling like she was putting a question to the universe.
They’d invited her to interview. She’d done it over video call, the camera carefully angled so the interviewers couldn’t see either of her casts. And they’d offered her the job.
She’d hesitated when she first got the call. Her fantasies about bumping into Sharanya on campus and getting back together with her shriveled up in the light of reality. Would Sharanya think she was stalking her? Was Sharanya even still moving to Singapore? Probably she was. Arrogant to think she would’ve changed her plans just because of what had happened between them.
Jess had wrestled with herself for half a day before sitting down and sending off an e-mail accepting the job. Teaching Singaporean freshmen wasn’t what she’d dreamed of doing, and Singapore wasn’t where she’d dreamed of living, Sharanya aside. It was going to be incredibly awkward when, inevitably, she encountered Sharanya there.
But it was the only offer she’d gotten. And it was time to move on, do something new. Rediscover who she was when she wasn’t ensconced in the mildly stifling embrace of her family.
That e-mail had been the end of her dormancy. After that she’d messaged the construction worker, Kassim. It turned out the NGO he’d been working with had done a social media campaign about the accident at the site, featuring Jess’s photos of the collapsed scaffolding and an interview with Rijaul.
The Facebook post had tens of thousands of shares. The NGO had called out the mainstream media for their silence on the incident, but that had since changed. Jess scrolled through links to multiple newspaper articles about the scandal on the NGO’s Facebook page. It had drawn media attention in Bangladesh as well. Kassim and Rijaul had even gone on TV a couple of times.
The developer had given a press conference in response, with Ng Chee Hin himself speaking on behalf of the company. Jess flinched away from the sight of him.
The construction workers were considering legal action. There was a fundraiser. Jess donated a princely sum on the strength of the salary she would soon be earning.
A few days later, she announced she was going out.
The boot was off Jess’s foot and she was feeling remarkably like herself. Even the marks the god had left on the back of her neck had faded to pale ovals, hardly to be made out. In time she thought they would disappear.
“Where you want to go?” said Mom. “Dad got some errands to run, but afterwards he can take you.”
“I’m craving nasi dalca,” said Jess. “Yew Yen knows a place. She’s picking me up, so Dad won’t need to drive me.” Jess was definitively banned from using Grab or any other taxi service. If she wasn’t being driven by a trusted relative or family friend, she wasn’t going anywhere.
So far the trusted relative category hadn’t included Ah Ku and his family. Jess hadn’t seen much of them since Ah Ku had found her in the garden temple. But Mom couldn’t really prohibit Jess from seeing her cousin. Ah Yen was OK—young, blameless, on her way to college.
Mom said, discontented, “When you got eat nasi dalca before?”
“Never,” said Jess. “That’s why I want to try it. I’m not going to be in Penang for much longer.”
Her parents took some convincing, but eventually they agreed she could go. Jess only had to show them exactly where Pak Din’s stall was on Google Maps and promise she wouldn’t be out for more than a couple of hours.
It was fine. It wouldn’t be like this forever. It was only because they were worried about what Ng Chee Hin might do.
Jess wasn’t. Ng Chee Hin wasn’t going to do anything to her. There had been no retaliation so far for what she’d done to his men, and Jess had a feeling there wouldn’t be. Ah Ma wouldn’t have left unless she was sure he was no longer a threat.
Jess hadn’t heard from Ah Ma since that last encounter with the Black Water Sister. She’d been waiting for her—expecting to hear that raspy voice in the quiet moments before she fell asleep, or while she brushed her teeth, watching herself in the mirror.
But the voice hadn’t come, even when Jess brought a bottle of cognac to the columbarium where Ah Ma’s remains were. For the first time since she’d arrived in Malaysia, Jess was alone in her head.
It wasn’t like she wanted Ah Ma in her head. But it would have been nice to have closure. A debrief. Maybe even some praise for how she’d dealt with the Black Water Sister, oblique and grudging, the way Ah Ma said anything nice.
But there was nothing. After all, what did Ah Ma have to stick around for any longer? The god’s shrine was gone. The god herself had been laid to rest. There were no debts left to pay off, no scores to settle. Jess was going to be fine.
With Ah Ma falling silent, it was like Jess had stepped out of her domain—crowded with gods and ghosts, spirits and secrets—back into the ordinary sunlit realm where the worst thing she was likely to take away from the temple was mosquito bites.
She preferred this world, overall.
Navigating the steps was the worst part. Jess took them slowly, favoring her good leg. This required so much attention that it was only once she’d reached the first landing that she looked up and saw Sherng, standing at the bottom. She froze.
Sherng had already seen her. His expression was so comically dismayed it almost made Jess laugh.
After a moment the expression passed. Sherng reorganized his face into a look of impersonal friendliness, like he’d spotted an old classmate whose name he didn’t remember.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with that hair,” he began. Then: “What are you doing?”
Jess peered at him over the top of her phone. “Recording. What’s it look like?”
He wasn’t coming any closer. That was good.
“Why are you—” But Sherng wasn’t a complete idiot. He flushed as understanding dawned. “There’s no need to record me. I’m not going to attack you!”
“Good to hear.” Jess didn’t put down her phone.
Sherng cleared his throat. “Listen, I heard about what happened. With the—when you visited my dad’s office. I’m sorry.”
He was trying to meet her eyes, but Jess didn’t look away from the phone screen. It stripped the moment of detail. You couldn’t really make out Sherng’s expression.
“Are you going to—” Sherng paused. “You’re not going to try to hurt me, right?”
Jess had been determined to keep her cool, not let fear or anger make her mouth off. That resolution went right out of her head.
“Am I going to hurt you?” she said. “How many staples do you have in your head? I had seven!”
“The other guys don’t look great either.”
Jess narrowed her eyes
. “Am I supposed to feel bad about that?”
“No, I was just—” Sherng raised his hands, in frustration or apology. The phone screen stole that nuance as well. “Sorry. Forget I said that.”
Jess let a beat pass, then another. Sherng didn’t look like he was going anywhere.
“So your dad’s men are still alive?” said Jess.
Sherng blinked. “You didn’t know?”
“How was I supposed to know? I was busy nursing a head injury.”
“I don’t know what you know, Jess,” said Sherng. “I don’t know what you’re capable of. What you did to those guys . . . you scared the shit out of my dad.”
Jess felt something inside her unclench. Turned out she had been worried after all. “Really?”
“Trust me, you don’t have anything to fear from him,” said Sherng. “We had a big fight about the whole thing. He made me promise to stay away from you. He’d be freaking out if he knew I’d run into you here.”
“You going to tell him?”
“No, Jess,” said Sherng. “I’ve already fucked up enough for a lifetime.”
Jess let her silence stand as agreement. At least Sherng didn’t seem to be expecting forgiveness.
“I can tell you why he sent those guys after you,” he said. “Do you want to know?”
“I thought it was obvious. I pissed him off.”
“It wasn’t that,” said Sherng. “He wouldn’t—not just because you annoyed him. I know you have no reason to believe me, but he doesn’t do stuff like this. But you had him spooked. He didn’t want you going off telling everybody about, you know, your uncle. He wants me to inherit the business. He’s got it all planned out.”
It took Jess a moment to get it. “He thought my uncle was going to, what? Fight you for the inheritance?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have a problem with it,” said Sherng. “If it’s your uncle’s right, that’s fine. I said that to my dad. But he didn’t agree. This is a big deal for him. I told you, I’m his biggest investment.”
Jess lowered her phone.
“How do you feel about that?” she said.
Now that she was looking at him directly, she could see the resignation in his face.
“He’s my dad,” said Sherng. “What can I do?” He sighed. “Look, can we go somewhere to talk? It’s damn hot here.”
“No, Sherng,” said Jess, not unkindly. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
She started hobbling down the stairs again. He came up the steps, saying, “Eh, let me . . .”
“No,” said Jess.
Sherng stopped. He looked forlorn, but also a little annoyed that she wasn’t letting him restore his self-image as a good person.
It gave Jess a petty pleasure, but it was also a reminder that she needed not to push it. Sherng feeling he owed her something was good, but it could morph all too easily into him resenting her for not forgiving the debt.
As she passed him, Sherng said quietly, “My dad gave in, by the way. I’m getting the temple.”
Jess paused. She should go, but she was curious. “Aren’t you still waiting for the judgment?”
“The temple committee isn’t going to win,” said Sherng. “My dad’s getting out of the development anyway. He’s decided it’s too risky. But he’s promised to carve out the temple plot so I can have it. He wasn’t so willing at first, but there haven’t been any incidents recently. With the, you know, the god.” He hesitated. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
Jess considered her answer.
“Everything,” she said.
Sherng nodded, letting out a long exhale.
“I’ve told my dad I’m going to get priests involved, do all the rituals, get approval from the gods,” he said. “We’ll make any donations that are needed. We’re going to consult on layout, make sure the altars are preserved. We want to do it properly.” He looked at her sidelong. “What do you think?”
“I’m not in that business anymore,” said Jess. “You’ll have to talk to my uncle. You two probably have a lot to talk about.”
Sherng looked rueful. “I thought you might say that.”
Jess was about to move on when he said, “I know you didn’t like my idea about turning this place into a café. But keep an open mind, yeah? Come and see the place when it’s done. You might be surprised.”
“I’m leaving Penang, actually,” said Jess.
“Oh,” said Sherng. “Where are you going? Back to the US?”
Jess shrugged. It wasn’t like she didn’t think he could find her if he looked, but she didn’t need to offer up the information. Singapore wasn’t that far away.
Just far enough for a new start.
“Is it because—are you leaving because of my dad?”
“I’m moving for a job,” said Jess.
“Oh, great. That’s great,” said Sherng. “But I want you to know you can come back. You don’t have to worry about, you know.” He gestured at her, a vague, comprehensive wave intended to capture her various injuries—broken ankle, fractured wrist, incipient PTSD and all. “I mean it. I’m really sorry about what happened. It’s not going to happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”
“OK.” Jess could tell he wanted more, but she couldn’t bring herself to thank him, even if that would have been politic.
“I would have WhatsApped you before to tell you,” said Sherng. “But I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me.”
There was no point telling him she’d changed her number. He’d find out if he tried using it, and it wasn’t like she was going to have a Penang number for much longer anyway.
“I’ve got to go,” said Jess.
“OK. OK,” said Sherng.
She was at the bottom of the steps when he blurted, “I wish we could have been friends.”
Jess looked back up at him.
“Me too,” she said. She realized she meant it.
Yew Yen was waiting in the car park, humming along to K-pop and editing selfies. She showed one to Jess as she got in the car.
“Nice,” said Jess. “I like the cat ears.”
Ah Yen started up the car.
“Some guy came, looked like Malay like that. Did you see him?” she said. She pointed at a silver BMW, parked in a shady corner of the lot. “Looked like he was going to the temple. Father must be rich, man. See his car!”
Jess looked.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t see him.”
* * *
• • •
JESS GOT HOME well within her allotted two hours. Ah Yen stayed for a drink and a snack, chatting affably with the uncles and aunties.
Jess knew she should smile along, do her bit, but she was too keyed up to make small talk. She had one item of business left for the day—one final thing she’d committed to doing. It was putting her on edge, even though it didn’t really matter if she didn’t get to it today. It had been overdue for years.
Nevertheless, having worked herself up to it, she wanted to get it over with. She gave up on socializing and excused herself, sneaking up to her bedroom. She checked her phone for the first time in a couple of hours and saw Sharanya had messaged.
It would have been one in the morning where Sharanya was. They were the kind of messages you only sent at one a.m.
Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your messages. I needed some time.
I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I realized I was holding on to a lot of resentment I didn’t tell you about, because of everything you had going on. I wanted to hold a space for that, for you. But I needed to make space for myself too. And for you to hold that for me.
I don’t really know where I’m going with this. You’re probably mad at me for going AWOL for so long. I just wanted to let you know I’ve been thinking about you. And I miss you.
Jess’s knees gave out. She sat down on her bed and reread the messages until the words began to run into one another.
I miss you too, typed Jess.
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
I’ve had time to think, too, she wanted to say. I’m moving to Singapore and I came out to my parents. Can we talk?
But that wasn’t all true yet. And she was giving up lying from now on. That was the whole point.
She put the phone down and went back downstairs to play host.
When she came back to her room later, she saw her phone sitting on the bedside table. She knew there wouldn’t have been any further messages from Sharanya—she was probably asleep now—but she couldn’t resist checking, just in case.
Nothing new. Jess was busy staring at her phone, estimating the earliest time by which Sharanya was likely to wake up and check her phone, when Mom came in after a cursory knock.
“Min, for dinner ah—eh, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” Jess followed Mom’s line of sight. There was a big brown moth on the wall, next to the window. “Oh.”
Mom hated creepy-crawlies of all kinds, which was weird given she was the one who’d grown up in this bug-ridden climate.
Jess got up. “I’ll get rid of it.”
“No, don’t need to do,” said Mom. “Leave it alone.”
“It’s fine, Mom.” Jess riffled through the desk, looking for a sheet of paper to scoop up the moth with. “I won’t kill it. I’ll let it out of the window.”
“No need. Better don’t touch,” Mom was saying when Dad poked his head around the door.
“What’s the matter? Why are you all quarreling?”
“Not quarreling lah,” said Mom.
“I’m going to get rid of this moth, but Mom wants to keep it as a mascot,” said Jess.
Mom rose to the bait, predictably. “What mascot? I’m just saying, this kind of thing, don’t need to do one.”