by Ming Cher
• • •
The doctor they went to was an old Malay man with a grey beard and also the local headman at Geylang. After examining Sachee, the doctor made him lie down on a chair that slid flat like a bed. He covered Sachee’s face with moistened herbs to numb the pain, then asked Big Mole, “What is his name?”
“His name is Sachee. We grew up together.”
“Hmm, I see. Yourself?”
“My name is Big Mole.”
“I mean your real name.”
“I don’t know, tuan,” Big Mole shook her head miserably. “I don’t know who is my Mama and Papa, tuan.”
The doctor pondered a while and said, “Let me take a look at your mole.” He gently tilted her chin to the light from his lamp, and, using the tip of his index finger, pressed gently around the mole.
“Something wrong?” Big Mole asked nervously.
“No, no,” he smiled. “Would you like me to remove this for you?”
“Yah! Can you?” Big Mole looked at him in awe, as if she were looking at a god. Her eyes were shining nervously.
The doctor was like a loving grandfather. “Yes, it is not hard to take it out. There will be no scars in a few months after the operation. Do you want me to do it?”
“Pain?” Sachee interrupted.
“Less painful than yours,” the doctor smiled to reassure Big Mole.
“I... I am not sure I have enough money to pay you, tuan.” Big Mole bit her fingernail.
“Give me some fish when I come to your shop. I will give them to my grandchildren.”
Big Mole cried with joy. “When can I do it?”
“Come and see me when you feel ready.”
“Then I will wait for Sachee’s face to get well first.”
The old man nodded, satisfied, and went over to Sachee. He removed the herbs from Sachee’s face and withdrew some blood using a needle. This was to reduce the swelling. Finally, he gave Sachee some ointment to use at home, and a follow-up appointment in three days’ time.
On their way to Big Mole’s house, Kwang told them about Kim and Yeow. Big Mole advised him to stay away from Yeow, but she did not mention anything about Kim.
Sachee was still grumbling about Chai. Kwang also agreed that Chai had overdone it. “Sachee,” he said. “Make sure your face is okay first. I will do something to Chai for you when I am ready.”
Once Sachee knew that Kwang was behind him, he felt a lot better and said, “Big Brother, stay with us! I will do anything for you!”
“Yah,” said Big Mole. “Why don’t you stay with us tonight? Go back tomorrow.”
After his heartbreaking day, Kwang agreed.
• • •
Big Mole’s two-bedroom house had proper wallpaper. Each room had a raised plank floor for sleeping and a mosquito net over the sleeping area. There was a reasonably-sized lounge and a square table in the middle of it. They sat down at the table to eat some Malay curry.
Later that night, all three of them were engaged in their own thoughts. Sachee, in his own room, was talking about Chai in his sleep. Big Mole was looking forward to having her mole removed and could not sleep. Kwang was thinking about Yeow and Kim sharing a spare canvas bed in Yeow’s lounge. As his thoughts drifted, he again began to wonder why Yeow had mentioned the place in Pasir Panjang.
• • •
Over at Ng Koo’s apartment, Yeow was thinking about his new chap jee kee enterprise. His head was resting under Ng Koo’s arm, cushioned against her bosomy chest. She was sound asleep, her leg thrown across his naked body. Chai, on the other hand, was with his favourite whore at Keong Saik Road.
At Neil Road, Cheong Pak also had a restless night. Midway through reading his newspaper by the bedside lamp, he turned to his wife, “Hey, Cigarette Woman! You think I should pay old Wong a visit in Bukit Ho Swee?”
“What is on your mind, Old Fox?” she replied. She was stitching a missing button onto Yeow’s shirt.
“Maybe he still has some ideas regarding chap jee kee. He is the one who started it.”
“I doubt it.” She bit away some loose thread.
“The potential is there, anyway. I am sure he wouldn’t mind me paying him a visit.”
“If you are going, remember to bring him some old mud, that may be handy. Did you talk to Yeow?”
“No, I don’t want to complicate things for him.”
“How soon?”
“I will give Yeow and Kwang a week to settle first.”
“I’ll leave it all to you then.” She stood up to roll a cigarette to smoke before going to bed.
19
The Big Fire
THE NEXT MORNING, Kwang rode straight from Big Mole’s shop to Pasir Panjang, where large, expensive houses perched on a thirty-metre-high cliff and looked out to sea. The houses had high walls that protected them from public view, and these were studded along the top with shards of broken glass. The tar-sealed road running past the houses, lined with tall bushy trees, was empty of traffic. After riding for two hours, Kwang saw only a postman on a bicycle. The postman whistled as he stopped at Number Forty-three and pressed the bell. Kwang noticed that there was barbed wire along the top of the gate. The old gatekeeper reached through the iron bars to accept the letters.
Through the gate, Kwang could see only a big parking area and a red sports car with a canvas hood. He climbed a tree so that he could look inside. His heart jumped at the sight of Yeow in prone position under a black-and-white umbrella at the swimming pool. He was with a topless woman, whose big breasts swung lazily as she massaged sun lotion on Yeow’s back while he sucked the juice from a green coconut with a straw.
So Yeow had a tiger woman backing him! That was how he could come up so easily with thousands of dollars in advance. Kwang grinned triumphantly at the discovery as he climbed down the tree. He had had enough of Yeow’s lying and went to see Hong, the burglar at Joo Chiat.
A gentle knock on the door was sufficient to wake him. “Who is that?” the burglar answered sleepily.
“Hong! It’s me, Kwang!”
“Come in, come in.” Hong yawned, stretching with his arms extended over his head, “How is everything, smooth?”
Kwang closed the door. “Wash your face first.”
“How is my wire?” Hong asked as he brushed his teeth. He meant the skeleton key he lent to Kwang.
“Not rusty,” Kwang said.
“So?” Hong giggled, his mouth full of fresh water.
“Can give face one more time?”
“Friendship is for free. Any time for you. Why?”
“There is another house with walls like Changi prison.”
“Nah, every house has a hole,” Hong said, dismissing the problem. “You need a hand?”
• • •
They headed back to Pasir Panjang by taxi. Kwang mentioned the chap jee kee scheme and his reason for wanting to get back at Yeow. Hong remembered Kim, who had been with Kwang at the Spider Olympics. “I understand how you feel. I used to have a girlfriend too. How are you going to hit back at the two-head snake?”
“Take his chap jee kee money first, sort him out later.”
They alighted a few doors away from Ng Koo’s mansion. The burglar, who was one-and-a-half metres tall, looked up at the wall and said, “That is easy, only four metres!”
“Feel like checking inside tonight?” Kwang inquired.
“No, save that for later. See who or what is backing him first. Otherwise keep cool.”
“My mates still don’t know that Yeow is behind the chap jee kee, they will lose face if I tell them exactly what happened, think I wasted everything because of a girl. I don’t want people to call me names behind my back.”
“Why worry? Playing straight is better, losing a bit of face is nothing. If they are your real friends, they will understand.”
“You think we should go and see some of them now?”
“Why not?” Hong agreed. He had played with spiders long before Kwang. “Might as well borr
ow a few hands to count the snakes behind that big wall.”
Kwang and Hong crossed over to the other side of the main road, where the bushy land was accessed by muddy tracks. The main track led into a slum area where many retired spider boys lived in small groups. In one of the attap houses there, Kwang told the truth about the business plan to only his top spider boy.
“So what if his name is Chinatown Yeow?” the boy swore. “Leave him to me!” Kwang was still a hero, even though he was younger.
“No, no,” the burglar said, waving a finger of caution. “One step at a time. Pick a few of your hands to watch the place. If we’re going to chop the grass, make sure we get out the roots!”
• • •
The spider boys spent two days carefully watching the house and noting the car numbers of Ng Koo’s clients. Hong asked them, “Did any of them return the next day?”
“No, but the woman’s red car is always there.”
“What about the young girls who come by taxi?”
“Can’t see their faces at night. But they leave in big cars with the old Europeans and Chinese.”
“That means the place is also a whorehouse,” Hong said. “That’s good enough. Tonight I will go inside when everyone is snoring like pigs, check out the layout but move out with nothing.”
Kwang nodded, “Once I get the money from his hands, we’ll move in with our guys for another trick.”
• • •
Next, Kwang decided to visit Big Mole’s aquarium with Hong. He told him Sachee’s story on the way there. Hong shook his bead. “Poor kid. I can’t stand bullies.”
“You should meet Big Mole too. Nice girl, solid inside.”
“Good-looking?”
“No, not very.”
“What’s looks? You fancy her?” Hong inquired.
“Just good friends.”
Sachee was holding with a small net in one hand and talking to a few younger customers. He did not see them walk in. Big Mole acknowledged their arrival with a nod. Hong surveyed the place thoughtfully, fingers at his chin, and nodded at Kwang, “Good spot, well set up.”
Big Mole smiled at Hong. “Hard work, long hours.”
“At least you are your own boss,” Hong commented. He looked at Sachee, whose face was still badly bruised.
“Do you want coffee or you’re in a hurry? Coffeeshop is just nearby.”
Sachee had finally convinced his clients to buy a few stripey angel fish. He was delighted to meet Hong. Knowledgeable about fighting fish, Hong suggested that Sachee should dry some banana leaves and put them inside the dragon pots with the fish. “Give them a chance to hide when they fight. Also helps to make the water cooler.”
When Kwang came back with coffee, their conversation became more general as they discovered common ground. Although Hong did not mention his profession, they were united in their understanding of the gulf between the rich and the poor.
When the Geylang visit ended, Kwang retrieved his bike from Hong’s place and went straight to Santeng for his appointment with Yeow. Chai was with Yeow when he arrived, carrying the chap jee kee cash in a shoulder bag.
“All here,” Yeow said, patting Chai’s bag and flashing his famous smile. “I talked to Chai about it. I hope you don’t mind.”
Kwang returned the grin. “Don’t worry about it. I expect Chai to know sooner or later.”
“How is everything on your side?”
“Everybody is willing to die for it.”
“I counted the money twice.” Yeow smiled at him, “Do you want to double-check for yourself?”
Avoiding eye contact with Yeow, Kwang peered into Chai’s shoulder bag and joked, “As long as it is not cardboard. We are talking trust now, right?”
“No worry,” Yeow replied. “Why not leave it like that?”
Kwang took the bag and slung it over his shoulder. He remembered what Hong had said and was careful not to talk too much.
“Just before you go,” said Yeow, “I think Chai should go along and meet your crew.”
“Tonight?”
“Yah, that is why he is here. I should mention it earlier.”
“Tonight we’re getting together because of this.” Kwang patted his bag of money. “I don’t know how to explain to them if Chai comes along without warning. Make it Sunday, for proper introduction? I have to give face to them too.”
Yeow looked at Chai, who was unwilling to offend Kwang again. They had fought so many times. “It’s the same thing, Yeow. Sooner or later I will meet them.”
Yeow was looking to the future and did not want to make a fuss, so he reluctantly agreed. Kwang slipped away to get further advice from Hong.
• • •
Yeow went to see Cheong Pak, but his godfather was not there. “I should not hide anything from you,” Cigarette Woman said. “Cheong Pak went to visit Wong at Bukit Ho Swee to talk about the old days in Hon Moon.”
Cheong Pak, who himself smoked opium, had brought along more of the stuff as a present for Wong. The old man was doing some calligraphic writing when his surprise visitor knocked.
“Can I come in?” Cheong Pak bowed slightly. He was wearing a traditional Chinese shirt. Wong threw aside his brush at the sight of his old comrade.
“Please sit down! Please sit down!” he said, smiling so widely as to reveal his tobacco-stained teeth.
Cheong Pak sat cross-legged on the settee. “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”
“Not at all. What a rare occasion!”
Wong served his visitor hot coffee from a vacuum flask. “What wind blows you here after all these years?”
“I must admit, I came to seek your advice.”
“What is the storm about?”
“Not easy to put in a few words.” Cheong Pak pulled out some opium from his sleeve. “I need some of this old habit to light up my thoughts with you. I hope you will accept this token?” He passed over a share of opium to Wong, using two hands in the old-fashioned way to do so.
Wong accepted the opium. “I lost touch with the outside world. How are you?”
“Still living on newspapers on Santeng.”
“Your wife?”
“Selling bits of cigarette,” Cheong Pak replied. “Yours?”
“A seamstress now. Just went to deliver some clothing.”
“Any future seeds?”
Wong nodded. “His name is San, born during Japanese Occupation. Yourself?”
“No more since my son changed body. To recover from his death, my wife adopted another son, a young man restless as the wind.”
“Winds don’t allow trees to grow in peace. So how is he?”
“I won’t hide from you. He’s not making a straight living. My wife is worried.” Cheong Pak frowned deeply.
“What is he up to?”
“Trying to set up his own chap jee kee operation.”
“That is a real problem,” Wong cautioned. “Someone will hang him for it.”
Cheong Pak looked hopefully at Wong. “Can you prevent it?”
“No, he has to stop by himself.”
“I can’t help him, and there is more than that,” Cheong Pak revealed. “He works with some of the young ones inside this village.”
“Do you know their names?” Wong asked with sudden concern.
Cheong Pak took the opportunity to mention Kwang, a name he knew would get some chap jee kee secrets out of Wong. The two old men smoked and talked for a long while, and Wong finally said, “I will do my best for Yeow and Kwang. I owe Kwang’s dead father my life.”
Cheong Pak was not used to smoking so much opium. When he left the village, he nearly stumbled into the river, thinking that the water was land.
• • •
On the same night, as the moon was sinking into the sea, Kwang and Hong climbed up a rope ladder hooked over the high wall. They cushioned the top of the wall with a jute sack packed with sand, using it like a horse saddle. Once inside, they explored the whole house from top to bottom, as well
as the grounds outside, from the tennis court to the swimming pool. The pool was near the edge of the cliff.
Kwang pointed out the drop to Hong. “When the time comes, I’m going to make Yeow jump from here.”
The next afternoon, they hired a car to distribute Yeow’s money. It took two days of cruising to cover the whole island from the causeway at Johor to the mangrove swamps and rich farmland in Jurong.
“If we have enough money, we can buy a few kelongs out there.” Hong pointed towards the sea at the many wooden structures on tall stilts, where fishermen made their living.
“How are you going to get the money?” Kwang asked.
“Either start our own chap jee kee or take over Yeow’s territory in Chinatown. He had it good for too long. Sachee says his boys would rather stick to you than him. They are all waiting for you to snap your fingers. They must really hate Yeow and Chai to say that.” Hong made his point slowly and very clearly.
“What about Yeow?”
“You really want him to jump off the cliff? We still need his money. Frankly, I think we should let the chap jee kee run under him for a while first, see how it goes, then take him.”
“You know these things better than me,” Kwang admitted. “I leave it to you to say when.”
• • •
On Big Mole’s day off, Sachee stood in with some of his canal friends. They were all plotting revenge on Chai and everyone was eager to help.
“I am going to stab him myself,” Sachee said proudly. “I am still thinking how to do it properly.”
“Get him when he comes out of the cinema at Tai Wah,” one of the older boys suggested. “He bullied one of us to buy tickets for him, the four o’clock session, finishes at six-thirty.”
“Yah,” another boy interrupted. “Roll a knife inside a newspaper, then stick him quickly, walk away in the crowd. No blood on your hand, the police can’t catch you.”
All fired-up, Sachee excitedly punched a fist into his palm. “Just wait and see,” he said aggressively.