by D. G. Lum
Chapter 5: Mahjong Ghosts in Telok Blangah
Mahjong is a popular game of choice for many Chinese around the world. While the origin of this Chinese game can be traced back to the Song dynasty, its modern version is only developed during late Qing dynasty. Today, if you live in apartments in Hong Kong, Macao, Taiwan, or Singapore, it is common to hear the sound of mahjong tiles knocking as Chinese play their all-time favorite game.
When I was little, my family lived in a five-room flat in a block at Telok Blangah. Telok Blangah is a suburb south of Singapore. We were on the twenty-third floor and had a good view of the city skyline. My best friend and primary school classmate, Ben, also lived in the same block, on the twenty-fifth floor.
I loved to play with Ben. Occasionally, after dinner, I would run up the stairs to look for him. We would often play hide-and-seek or police-catch-thief. Ben’s mother was a good friend of my mum’s and her mahjong kaki (which means ‘friend’ in Malay). We had a good time together in Telok Blangah until Ben’s family decided to move out one day. As far as I remember, it was a hasty decision. His mother came to my house one day in August to inform my mum that they would be leaving very soon for Marine Parade and then they moved out the following day. Mum and I were equally puzzled by their actions. Ben’s family loved living in their flat and liked the neighborhood very much, or so we thought.
It was only thirteen years later that we found out why they moved out so suddenly. My mum was shopping in Takashimaya (a large Japanese department store) one day when she bumped into Ben’s mother. They had lunch together and Mrs Lee told my mum her story.
“You know, Mrs Lam…” said Mrs Lee. She paused for a while, took a quick sip of her black coffee, and continued, “I loved my flat in Telok Blangah and would have never left,” she anxiously looked behind her shoulders, “…if not for #24-124.” Mrs Lee was referring to the family on Floor 24, Unit 124, of our block.
“What was wrong with them?” my mum asked curiously. She had no idea who had lived in that unit. Mrs Lee went on, “I too had no idea a week before we moved out, but I can tell you now that it is haunted.”
Mum was surprised to hear that. “A haunted apartment in our block?” she exclaimed with suspicion. She thought Mrs Lee was just joking.
“I’m serious!” Mrs Lee raised her voice. “I heard and saw it. Ben’s dad was the one to first discover it. This was what happened...
It began on a Friday night. My son Ben, who was twelve years old at that time, was still awake and was watching late night television with his father. I was reading my gossip magazine in my bedroom and then went to bed before they did. As you may remember, our unit was right above #24-124.
At around 12:10 a.m., Ben and his dad could hear the sound of mahjong tiles hitting against each other. Because we were on the highest floor of the block, we could hear the sound fairly loudly. Ben could also hear some people laughing and talking.
Ben’s dad was not pleased. “Who would play mahjong at this late hour?” he complained and looked down the window to see where it came from. He found out that the sound came from the flat just below our own.
At 1:00 a.m., the mahjong party was still going on. Ben’s dad grew increasingly angry with our inconsiderate neighbors. “They have never done that before. But this is not right.” He decided to go down to ask them to stop. He put on his slippers and walked down the stairs to the floor below.
To his surprise, there was complete silence on the twenty-fourth floor. He stood at the door of #24-124 and tried to eavesdrop. It seemed absolutely quiet inside. He waited for a while and then returned to our flat.
Back home, he asked Ben if he had heard anything else. Ben said the mahjong noise had stopped just a little while ago. Thinking that the neighbors must have finished their mahjong game for the night, Ben’s dad decided to forget about the whole incident.
The next morning, he told me what happened and said that the neighbor living below our flat had played mahjong until around 1:10 a.m. He asked me if I knew the family at #24-124 and if they were also my regular mahjong kaki. “No, of course not! I have not played mahjong for a while,” I replied defensively. As you probably remember, Ben’s dad did not like it when I played mahjong.
That evening, we had dinner early, watched some television programs, and then went to bed. Then, at around 12:20, the sound of mahjong tiles could be heard again from #24-124. We were all woken up by the noise, which included giggles and people talking loudly.
Frustrated and angry, Ben’s dad got dressed to go downstairs to ask the neighbor to stop. I decided to accompany him.
To our surprise, it was dead quiet on the floor. There was not a single sound coming from #24-124. Ben’s dad decided to ring the bell anyhow. We waited for a moment but no one answered the bell. I told Ben’s dad not to create a scene at this time of the night and managed to drag him back to our flat. We figured our neighbors did not want to be disturbed at that time.
The next day, I went down to Auntie Tao’s unit at #24-122. It was diagonally opposite to unit 124. I ask Auntie Tao if she had heard any noise, like mahjong games, in the last two nights. She told me that her family had gone to bed early both nights and had not heard anything.
On the third day, Ben came back from school late, had a quick lunch, and then rushed down to your place to play with your son. When he returned home, he told me he had seen an old lady standing at the door of #24-124. The door was wide open and Ben could see an old mahjong table at the centre of the living room. The lady stared at Ben as he made his way up the stairs. Ben said she did not look friendly at all.
When I heard that, I decided to head down to the flat again to have a chat with the owners. I wanted to let them know we were not at all pleased with the noise they had made over the last two nights.
It was 6:25 p.m. I got to the floor and could see the door of #24-124 closing gradually. I doubled my footsteps and called out, “Wait. I need to talk.” It was too late. The door slammed right in front of my face. I was furious, as I was sure whoever closed the door must have heard me call out. “Excuse me. I’m a neighbor from upstairs!” I called out, pressing the bell and knocking the door at the same time. I waited for a minute or so but no one answered.
Feeling disgusted and disappointed, I turned around and was about to take the stairs back up when one of the lifts opened. A woman dressed in a black suit and carrying a folder stepped out. She looked at me and smiled. I smiled back reluctantly. The woman walked past me and stood at the door of #24-124. “No one’s answering,” I told her.
She looked at me curiously and said, “Of course. There’s no one in it.”
I was puzzled and asked her how she knew.
She replied confidently, “This unit has just been up for sale. The owners have left it empty for about two to three years now. They are now in Hong Kong.”
I was stunned and told her the door had slammed just five minutes ago. I also told her my son saw an old lady just a while before that.
She was perplexed but insisted. “I told you,” she said, continuing, “This home has been empty for many months. I am the only one with the keys.” She took out a set of keys from her pocket and opened the door. “You see, I’m the agent in charge of selling this property. You can come in if you want. I will be advertising soon.”
For some reason, I was too afraid to step into #24-124. I peeked into the living room. The curtains were all drawn and there was no furniture in sight. The agent went in. I could hear the sound of her high heels. I just stood at the door. Moments later, she returned.
“No. Everything looks the same as I left it last week. There’s no sign of anybody in here, as before,” she claimed unhurriedly and walked back into the flat. “You must have made a mistake.”
I felt a cold shiver and my hands started sweating, but I tried to control my fear. I knew I had seen the door slam and I knew Ben would not lie to me. “How could we explain the noise of people playing mahjong in the middle of the night?” I questioned in
my mind.
I was too frightened to tell my husband about it that night when he returned from work. I kept mum about the whole incident and told Ben not to talk about it anymore. And we did not hear any noise that night.
But on the fifth night, it happened again. There was laughter and giggling. At some point, I could hear an old lady shouting, “Pong.” Ben’s dad was again furious. It was 12:35 a.m. He got up from our bed and before I could stop him, he was already out of the flat.
I contemplated whether to follow him. “Perhaps he will only find silence, like we did before,” I rationalized. But, somehow, I feared for his safety.
I put on my robe and was at the door when he returned. He was fuming. He said heatedly that an old lady had opened the door at #24-124 and swore at him before he could even say anything. “She said if I didn’t leave them alone, we would all die. She said we should move out of our flat instead,” Ben’s dad said furiously as he picked up the phone. “I’m going to call the police,” he added.
I put my hand out and stopped him. “Are you crazy?” I cried out, weeping as I tried to control my fear. He asked what was wrong with me. I trembled and started shaking my head violently. He got hold of my arms and tried to calm me down.
Ben was woken up by the commotion and stood outside his bedroom. “What’s wrong, Mum and Dad?” he asked, sleepily.
Ben’s dad gave me some water and I sat down. I then told them about the whole incident and what the agent had said. As I talked, we could still hear the noise of people playing mahjong. Then, just as I finished my story, the noise stopped suddenly—as though someone just turned off the volume.
There was an eerie silence and we just looked at each other. The next day, we decided to move out of our flat. A few months after we moved out to Marine Parade, I saw an HDB sale advertisement for #24-124 in the newspaper. I was curious and called the agent, telling her that I was the lady she chatted with at the unit some time back. She remembered me. I asked her about the history of the unit and whether an old lady ever lived there.
She thought about it and then told me that the grandmother of her client had lived alone there for many years. She was fond of playing mahjong with her friends. However, she died about two years ago. They found her dead on her mahjong table at the living room. She had a heart-attack.
My mum stared at Mrs Lee in disbelief as she finished her story. Mrs Lee took the last sip of her coffee and parted with my mum. “You’d better leave that place, too,” said Mrs Lee, before leaving. “The spirit might still be there after all these years!”
Six months later, we moved out of Telok Blangah.
Chapter 6: Want to Improve Your Luck with a Baby Ghost?
Some say many invisible forces in casinos work against their gamblers. Feng shui masters are often called upon to advise casinos on how to improve their businesses. Supposedly, casinos have feng shui traps everywhere. Positive chi flows from all areas of a casino to its ‘belly,’ while negative chi channels around its gamblers in a subtle way to affect their gambling behavior. Rumor has it that some casinos also have engaged spiritual (mostly Taoist) mediums to provide extra protection for their business operations. The mediums rear a baby ghost under each gambling table. The ghost’s job is to make sure the casino wins by manipulating the gamblers’ cards against.
To protect themselves, superstitious gamblers often bring a small pack of sugar with them to casinos. Before gambling, they will secretly sprinkle a pinch of sugar on the floor or tabletop. The purpose is to please the ghost so it will manipulate the cards: sugar is food to the baby ghost. Some say this method works well. Even slot machine players are resorting to such tactics (like sprinkling some sugar on a machine before playing) to beat the casino.
One of my friends told me there are other better methods to beat the casino. One method is to beat a ghost with a ghost. In Singapore a forty-one-year-old businessman from Geylang, Tuck Heng, did just that.
Tuck Heng loved to gamble, especially by playing blackjack and baccarat, because he thought those games had the highest odds of winning. He went on a gambling cruise almost twice each month. The ships set sail from the Singapore Cruise Centre. After thirteen consecutive unlucky gambling trips onboard a luxury gambling cruise ship, Tuck Heng wanted to win badly. His losses had piled up by the thousands of dollars during each trip.
A close friend, a regular gambling associate of many gambling cruises, advised him to seek the help of a Taoist spiritual medium. “I heard this guy is good,” said his friend. So, Tuck Heng decided to meet this medium. His friend arranged the venue, day, and time for the meeting: a four-room HDB flat in Geylang, on a Thursday. The time was 11:00 p.m., and there was a full moon.
That night, Tuck Heng and his friend met the medium, a short, fat, but sturdy old man, who was probably in his mid-fifties. They spoke for a while and then the medium went into one of his rooms. He returned with a tiny, odd-looking, glass Chinese perfume bottle. It was bright yellow in color and had some Chinese inscription on it.
“This is what you need,” claimed the medium as he pointed at the bottle. “Feed him every day with a handful of sugar. Respect him and treat him well, just like your own son.” As Tuck Heng and his friend looked on, the medium added, “This baby ghost is more than thirty years old, but he is a tough cookie.”
The medium then passed over the bottle, and Tuck Heng accepted it with care. The medium gave other, more specific instructions. Tuck Heng needed to feed the baby ghost by sprinkling a handful of sugar on the bottle every night at midnight for forty-nine days. After that, the baby ghost would gladly obey any order he gave. It would be his pet forever. It would protect him and ensure that he won every time he gambled. Tuck Heng and his friend paid the medium handsomely and left happily.
For forty-nine days, Tuck Heng diligently paid respect to his baby ghost. He fed the ghost every night at midnight and even sang his favorite Hokkien songs to the ghost when he had the time. He brought the perfume bottle everywhere he went. The bottle was with him even when he was bathing.
On the fiftieth day, Tuck Heng booked a two-day cruise to nowhere and brought his baby ghost with him. He kept the bottle in his pocket. The medium was right. On the first day that Tuck Heng sat foot in the casino, he won a lot of money: S$82,800, to be exact. He was extremely pleased with himself and with his baby ghost.
On the second day, Tuck Heng went to the casino early in the morning. He picked a blackjack table and began his game. By noon, he had already won more than the day before. He got so carried away, however, that he took out his perfume bottle and placed it on the gambling table. The dealer and other gamblers stared at him but Tuck Heng did not care. He thought this would make him win even more since the baby ghost could see the cards better.
Something unfortunate happened. During one of his gambling sessions, he accidentally tipped his hot teacup over and wet the perfume bottle thoroughly. Afterwards, he started to lose at every bet. Within an hour, he lost all the money that he had won that the morning.
Tuck Heng grew more frustrated by the minute. He was upset with the baby ghost. It was supposed to help him to win but did not. He grew gloomy and agitated as his losses piled up. Soon, he began to scold the bottle and the baby ghost in it.
Everyone on the gambling table looked at him with surprise. Some wondered if he had gone crazy. The dealer and his supervisor were happy not to interfere, though, since Tuck Heng was losing so much to the casino.
It was a bad day for Tuck Heng. He left the casino at late night, went to the pub, and got really drunk. He fell asleep immediately after returning to his cabin. At around 2:00 a.m., Tuck Heng woke up feeling giddy and threw up in the toilet. All of a sudden, he heard the sound of a baby crying. He turned around and looked back into his room. The lights were on and it was clear that no one was in the room except himself. He cleaned up and went back to bed at once, thinking the noise must be coming from the occupants next door.
However, the moment he lay back down, the bed began t
o shake violently. Tuck Heng was shocked and picked himself up instantly. He had no idea what was going on. He tried to get out of his room, but the door just would not open. He picked up the phone but there were no dial tone; the phone was dead. In desperation, Tuck Heng banged on his door and screamed for help. But no one answered his call.
The next day, the cruise returned to Singapore and all the passengers left the ship.
A cleaner was making her rounds to each room, picking up used towels and tidying the beds, but when she came to one particular room and tried to open it, she found that the door was locked from the inside. She tried in vain to open it but could not. She knocked several times and asked if anyone was inside, but no one answered. Finally, she decided to call security.
A security guard and a front office staff came to investigate. After much effort, they managed to hack open the door. There, lying on the floor, facedown, was Tuck Heng. They turned him over and felt for his pulse but there were none. There was also a strong smell of alcohol in the room.
The police came onboard the ship within minutes. Tuck Heng was officially proclaimed dead. Initial investigation by the police revealed he had died of excessive alcohol intoxication. Further investigation and an autopsy concluded that he had died from internal bleeding. His lungs were practically crushed.
After several months, the police were unable to find any information related to his death and finally closed the case as ‘a death from unnatural causes.’ No further charges were made and no foul play was suspected.
In the meantime, the room was cleaned. An open and empty perfume bottle was found under the mattress. The cruise company engaged a Taoist spiritual medium to pacify the room and safeguard it against evil spirits. All the staff members who knew about this incident were told to keep mum.