A Flash of Water

by Chan Ling Yap

  Li Ling picked up her bowl and began to eat. All the while though her ears strained to hear. She was shocked to learn that the handsome young Master was betrothed. For some unknown reason, it made her sad.

  Ah Kew’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She cast a malicious glance at Li Ling. “Aiyah! That girl over there, the one Miss Shao Peng brought back. I thought for a moment she was someone of importance, especially when she breakfasted with her. But, it cannot be. Look! They left her out of the family procession.”

  Li Ling’s cheeks turned bright red. She shuffled the rice into her mouth and pretended not to hear. The maids giggled. “Cho loh! No manners! Who would want her as bride?” They nudged each other.

  ***

  Back across the other side of town, the riverbank was busy. Jing- jing stood enthralled drinking in the sounds, the smell and the colours of her surroundings. Stalls with fruits and vegetables stood next to those selling cloth. Cooking utensils were laid out cheek by jowl with chamber pots and wooden stools. Wired cages with live chickens stood next to baskets filled with fish, their eyes glazed with death. The previous night’s heavy rainfall had transformed the rough tracks along the bank into a field of mud. Jing-jing’s feet sunk deep with each step. She was oblivious. The people and the noise exhilarated her.

  Ah Kum tapped her on the shoulder. “Here, look over there where the two rivers meet. One river is called Gombak and the other Klang.” She hustled Jing-jing forward and pointed to a group of rough attap houses. “Huts for the Kapitan’s coolies,” she explained. “He is our headman. See there,” she gesticulated to a large wooden shed adjacent to the medley of huts, “a gambling and opium den.” A group of men wandered out of the shed to leer at them. “Watch out!” She giggled, her eyes coy with delight. “Many of them come to our house, preferring it to the shacks around this part of the town.” Ah Kum stole a surreptitious glance at her young companion.

  Jing-jing didn’t quite grasp the meaning. Thrilled with the buzz of activity, she was too busy taking it all in. She had dreaded being confined to her hut with no friends. Surely she could find a friend here. She looked around. Her heart fell. There were not many women around, just a few with long braided hair buying food. She knew of them, having met some on the ship; mah-cheh women who had braved the journey from China to flee from bullying mothers-in-law or husbands; women who had sworn a life of celibacy and loyalty to their domestic work for pay. “I could have been one of those if I was not careful,” she said to Ah Kum. “It would be awful.”

  “Yes, you mustn’t even think of it. You are so pretty, too pretty to be tucked away in the kitchen. Come, come away!” She pointed to a pile of cloths stacked high on a rough wooden platform. “This, when made into a tunic, would suit you and make you even more beautiful.”

  “No! I can’t afford it,” said Jing-jing looking at the material wistfully.

  “What about this?” Ah Kum flashed a little mirror she found amongst a heap of assorted goods in another stall. “You need a mirror to comb your hair at least.”

  “No, nothing. I don’t have any money at all.”

  “Aiyah! How can he leave you on your own without any money? I am sorry to ask. What kind of husband is he?” Kum looked pityingly at Jing-jing.

  “I have some money; it is enough just for food.”

  “Huh! In that case, we might as well just go. No point staying here if you have no money.” Ah Kum whirled abruptly from Jing-jing and walked away. At intervals she turned to throw sharp accusing glances at her young friend, her face a picture of indignation. Jing-jing followed crestfallen, her earlier jubilation completely vanished.

  Chapter 9

  THE CEMETERY WAS located on the side of the hill that overlooked the valley and the river. Slowly the mass of people that had formed the funeral procession began to leave. One by one they wove their way down the hillside. There were no paths that provided for an orderly departure. People trampled through patches of tall grass and negotiated their way around clumps of frangipani trees and tombstones. They left deep footprints on the red metallic soil. A warm breeze blew, sending the plumes of grass seed heads nodding.

  “Good feng shui,” Ah Sook, her father’s retainer explained. “Your father will be at peace here. His plot is the best,” he said soothingly to comfort her. Shao Peng had wept then, tears that she had kept in check throughout the funeral procession and even when the coffin was lowered into the ground, flowed unconstrained. The finality of it all hit her.

  When the last of the crowd had left, she took a step back and turned to Janidah. “Did Jack say anything to you?” she asked. “Where is he?” She saw the hesitation on Janidah’s face. Alarmed she turned to Grime. “Uncle Grime, where is Jack?” she asked again, her heart pounding.

  She had no chance to pursue the matter. Her brother grabbed her elbow and ushered her forcefully forward. He had overheard.

  “Give father some respect. Can’t you wait until we are back home before uttering the very name that was a bone of contention between you and father? What’s wrong with you? You want father to turn in his grave?” Siew Loong’s eyes were filled with rage. She could feel the heat of his hand encircling her arm. He pulled her to him, and brought his face close to hers. His breath blew hot on her face.

  “I tell you where he is. He has left. He will be back soon, no doubt, with his wife. So just leave it.” He flung her arm away and strode furiously away to join his mother.

  Shao Peng stood rooted, the last vestige of colour drained from her face. She turned to Janidah. She wanted to ask if it was true. Her lips parted; no words came. Her throat was dry; it was as though all the moisture had been sucked out of it. Questions, however, were unnecessary. She could see from the discomfiture in Janidah’s face that it was true. Siew Loong was not quite finished with her. Within seconds, he was back. He took her arm again, wrenching it.

  “I didn’t want to say anything this morning. I didn’t want you to be hurt. You leave me with no choice. I realised just then that you would never be weaned off him if you did not know the truth. When you were away, he had a Malay mistress. Ask Janidah. She knows. Everyone knows except my sister. She is so infatuated that she hears nothing and sees nothing. She sees only that which she wants to see. Well!” He expelled a long drawn out breath. “You have to face the truth.” With that he turned and left, striding off at such speed that clouds of dust and sand billowed after him.

  “Uncle Grime, is it true?”

  Edward Grime nodded, his eyes cast down and unable to meet hers. The moment passed. He looked up. “I am sorry. I failed you. I should have been more careful with the people you met when you were under my care. I had no idea that you would fall in love with Jack. I thought no more of it after you left us and returned to your father’s household. I did not know that you maintained contact with him until you wrote before you left for China. Your father came to me afterwards and together we tried to find out more about Jack and his background.”

  Janidah placed an arm around Shao Peng. “We understand your attraction to him. There is no doubt about it. He is a very clever and charming man. Look at the way he has risen in the ranks. We were all duped. We confronted him when we learnt that he would be bringing his English bride to Malaya. He admitted it. He said that it was a marriage of convenience, that his true love was you. That, however, does not excuse him for being the cad that he has shown himself to be.”

  “And that he had a Malay mistress? Is that also true?”

  “There are rumours,” Janidah said after a moment’s hesitation, “that he was having a secret liaison with a young Malay girl even while he was preparing to return to England to marry. I do not know if it is true despite what your brother said. It is just that everyone is talking about it. It has become common gossip even if it is not true. He has made many enemies from rising so rapidly in the administration. Such a relationship is, of course, still taboo for a rising star engaged in important government matters.” She cast a quick glance at her husband and whi
spered. “The Brits are quite unforgiving in this respect. We are only too aware of it; Edward’s career in the civil service, I am sure, is held back because of me.”

  Shao Peng did not hear this last piece of information volunteered by Janidah. Her mind was in turmoil. Once again she had shown herself to be a fool. How could she have gone against her father for Jack? His face flashed across her mind. She recalled the way he had looked at her. She had been so sure of his love that she even persuaded her aunt to give her blessing before she died. It had taken her aunt a lot to give her blessing. Her aunt had hated the way China was parcelled out between foreign powers. Her aunt was not fond, to say the least, of the English.

  Shao Peng was torn between shame, anger and contrition. How could she go home to face Siew Loong, her younger brother? Yet, despite it all, Jack’s face haunted her. She still wanted to be with him. Even now she could not believe that he could deceive her. Yet, how could she not believe when presented with such evidence by family members who loved her? With a shudder of self-disgust, she walked quickly after her brother.

  Janidah and Grime watched Shao Peng hurry away. “I will have a word with Siew Loong. He shouldn’t have told Shao Peng in the savage way he did. It was cruel,” Grime said to Janidah. “I wish that the whole sorry saga would just go away.”

  Janidah did not reply. She too was filled with regrets. She wished she had not aired her liberal views so freely to Shao Peng when she was in her care. Perhaps she had unwittingly encouraged her ward to have modern ways that would be difficult to practise when she was back in the conservative household of her father.

  ***

  Shao Peng sat on the bed with both arms hugging her knees and her head resting on one arm. Across the narrow aisle separating the two beds, Li Ling lay quiet. The night was balmy, filled with the constant hum of insects. Outside in the garden all the debris left from the funeral had been swept clean away. The house had been similarly cleared. Only the sweet scent of joss sticks remained; their smoke wafted from room to room, infusing the warm night air with its pungent breath and reminding the occupants of the death that had just occurred.

  She slid further down on the bed and pulled the covers firmly over her. Her mind went over the day’s events. After they returned home, she had gone to her brother to make amends. Siew Loong had taken her hand in his. “Look,” he had said, “I am sorry for the brutal way I broke the news to you. I had meant to be gentle. It is just that when I heard you asking about the scoundrel so soon after we buried father, my blood boiled over. It was unseemly. Even now I am angry.”

  She could see that he was indeed getting upset all over again, just as she could tell that it would rain when the clouds darken and lightning strikes. Her brother had always been volatile; sweet, docile and gentle one moment and then without warning a burst of temper. Yet, he never bore a grudge. She squeezed his hand to reassure him. She knew she had been in the wrong. When she was told that her father was not angry with her, she led herself to believe that he had also accepted her love for Jack. So she allowed her impatience for news of Jack to overcome her sensibility. Her little brother was right. It was unseemly and uncaring. She was ashamed and she shifted from self-loathing to sadness and then to longing for Jack, a longing that was not to be.

  “What now?” she whispered to herself, pulling the covers even more firmly to her chin.

  The sound of shuffling sheets and a muffled sob brought her back to the present. She turned to see Li Ling looking at her and was immediately reminded that she, wrapped up with her own selfish concerns, had neglected her charge. She pushed the bed covers away and swung her legs over her bed. Dropping to her knees, she leaned over Li Ling. “Are you all right?” she asked. The girl turned away.

  Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the girl’s cheeks. They were damp. “Why are you crying? Was anyone cruel to you?”

  Li Ling shook her head, yet tears seeped out from the corner of her eyes, big drops that glimmered bright in the darkened room. She was homesick. She was bewildered and frightened. She wanted to go home.

  “Ah Tai said that you will be returning to China and I will be left here. She wanted to know whether I would be the new bondmaid for her to supervise. She called me the new mui chai. If that is so, she says my duty will be to clean all the chamber pots. I will have to draw water from the well and clean all the bathrooms and toilets. I am frightened of her.” She recalled the rough manner of the maid and the pinch she had given her.

  “I will have a word with Ah Tai now!” Shao Peng stood up. Li Ling grasped her hand and stopped her.

  “No! Please! It will only make her more angry with me.”

  Shao Peng lowered herself until her face was level with the frightened girl. “I won’t if you don’t want me to. Rest assured you will not be cleaning chamber pots. I promise you. I have not had time to think things through. My father’s unexpected death...” her voice trailed off. “Sleep,” she said, brushing a tear from Li Ling’s drenched face, “we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Shao Peng tucked the thin cotton cover round her charge. She got up and went to snuff out the lamp, throwing the room into immediate deep darkness. Outside a storm was brewing. She drew open the curtains slightly and looked out into the pitch black garden. Gradually her eyes became accustomed to the dimness. Clouds scurried across the sky and a strong wind howled whipping trees into a frenzy. At a distance, coconut trees were almost bending double with the wind’s force. Then the sky broke open. “How appropriate,” she whispered, dropping the curtains, “perhaps we will have a new start after the storm.” A tear rolled down her cheek; she could taste its tangy saltiness and was surprised at the seeming unlimited supply of tears she could shed. She brushed it away impatiently. She must show more strength. She must set a better example for Li Ling.

  ***

  It was mid morning before Shao Peng managed to locate her stepmother. She found Rohani sitting on a wooden bench beneath a bower of bougainvillea, surrounded by a small orchard of papaya and mango trees. To the rear of the mango trees, a grove of banana palms stood sentry; their ragged leaves trailing the ground. Combs of sun ripened bananas hung heavy, their golden hues contrasting with the backdrop of the wind- torn palm leaves. Next to it a solitary rambutan tree stood resplendent, its branches laden heavy with the small hairy fruit.

  Rohani looked oblivious to the heady scent of ripening fruits and colour around her. Her sarong was hitched up above her ankles, and she was listlessly rolling a betel nut joint. A silver casket lay on the bench, its lid carelessly cast aside to reveal sirih, betel leaves plucked from the vines growing in the backyard, areca nut, and a paste of lime and spices. Shao Peng glanced away, uncomfortable to have found her stepmother so occupied. She had never seen Rohani chewing betel. Ngao, her father, disliked the practice of betel nut chewing and had forbidden its use. Whenever he passed a kampong he would rave at those who chewed the betel leaves pointing to their stained lips and blackened teeth and to the ground stained with their spit. “It is a widely practised social custom among the Malay people and is said to give those using it euphoria and comfort from all sorts of pain. Don’t, however, let anyone in my household even try it.” But he was no longer here.

  “Mother,” she said, the word tripping uncomfortably from her tongue. After all these years, she still found it difficult to address Rohani as mother. She had only done so recently because of her father’s insistence. “Would you help me with Li Ling? I had promised her parents to keep her safe. I would like her to make something of herself. At the moment, however, what she needs most is love and care. She is frightened and homesick. Remember how I was when I first arrived in Singapore and you were sent to take care of me? I cried buckets.” Recalling her stepmother’s kindness when she first came from China, Shao Peng lowered herself and placed both arms around her stepmother’s waist and gave her a hug. She hated seeing Rohani sad.

  “She is thirteen, too old to be mollycoddled. You were only eight.”

  “Even so
she is still a child,” Shao Peng protested. She drew back to look at her stepmother, surprised by the curt answer. Rohani was normally the more lenient of her two parents, softening her father’s reprimands and commands.

  “When your father brought women to this house, he said the same to me. Look after them. They are young and need your love and guidance. Little did I expect, when I heard your father’s will provided for four women, that three at least were the same ones that he brought to me to look after.”

  Shao Peng’s hand flew to her mouth. She was speechless.

  Rohani’s eyes were grave when she finally lifted her face. Shadows like bruised grapes ringed her eyelids. There was no hint of her usual sunny disposition, a disposition that Shao Peng had cherished. Her dusky skin was dull and her lips were stretched tight with bitterness. Small lines radiated from the corners of her mouth, lines grown overnight by the sprouting of sorrow. Sorrow for the loss of a husband; sorrow to discover his infidelity after lifelong trust.

  Shao Peng folded her stepmother once more in her arms. Rohani seemed to have shrunk suddenly; her shoulders slouched in defeat. “Shhh! Do not believe in all that people tell you. It might not be true,” Shao Peng said.

  Rohani extricated herself from the embrace. “For that reason, I cannot help you with Li Ling. I do not trust the girl. I trust no one. I saw how your brother looked at her the other morning. I do not want her here to spoil things. I have plans that he marries Suet Ping. She is a lovely girl and half- Chinese with Malay blood. She would be a daughter-in-law I can relate to. It is time that I looked after myself. I am done with putting others first.”