Realistically, I knew that a girl like Sue was out of my league, so I put her at the back of my mind. Then, two days later, she surprised me by turning up at the pub to thank me personally, again, and this time with homemade curry puffs. That was when our relationship began.
Unlike other people, Sue saw me as a person and not a gangster. After spending some time with me, she was aware of what I did but she did not shy away. She continuously persuaded me to turn over a new leaf and she never gave up no matter what I did. Ironically, I found this trait of hers annoying yet endearing at the same time. I guessed it made me realise there was still some good left in me that only Sue could see, and that made me feel more connected to humanity than I have ever felt.
Unfortunately, Sue’s father did not share the same sentiment. He was against our friendship from the start. Whenever I went to his shop, he would threaten to kill me with his butcher knife but he never had the guts to do it. Even though she tried not to show it, I knew that Sue was troubled by her father’s objection. Somehow, her old man’s blessings still meant a lot to her. So, I stopped going to his shop and we would meet outside her work place instead.
The thought of Sue made me want to touch her face, smell her citrus perfume and feel her baby-soft skin even more. I could not lie there any longer. Despite the pain, I got up and headed out.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go see Sue.”
“But…”
Ming Chai took one look at me and he knew it was pointless to argue.
It was just after dusk when I reached our usual meeting spot under a large mango tree beside the corner shop lot where Sue worked as a tuition teacher. Her classes usually ended at 8pm, so I waited, leaning against the tree.
At 8.15pm after a throng of students left the centre, I eyed the door of the shop eagerly. Sure enough, five minutes late, a petite figure appeared.
“Sue!”
She froze, then, turned to my direction. The blank expression on her face turned to recognition and a smile lit up her face like the morning sun. She ran towards me and hugged me fiercely.
“Urgh!”
“What happened to you? Are you hurt?”
Sue opened the jacket and saw the bandages on my shoulder and arm. She gasped.
“It’s no big deal,” I said as I tried to grab her hand. The movement sent pain shooting up my arm again, making me a little faint.
I must have gone really pale at that moment as I saw the horror in Sue’s eyes. Immediately, she put my good arm around her narrow shoulders and said, “We are going back to your place now.”
Just like that, she took charge and we moved forward. I liked that in a woman, particularly Sue.
As we walked back to my house, she talked, telling me about her work. She never asked about my injuries. That’s another thing I loved about her, she never asked questions to answers she already knew and she never questioned what I did even though she made it very clear that she disagreed with my ‘business’.
By that time, the evening sky had darkened. Several people had laid out various fruits and food and were burning joss sticks and paper money by the roadside. Such a scene was not uncommon since it was the seventh month of the Lunar calendar, also known as the Ghost Festival. The Chinese believe that this was the month in a year where the gates of hell were opened and the spirits were allowed to roam freely among the living.
During this month, the superstitious lot would not leave their homes after dusk as they believe that the spirits were most active from dusk until dawn. Those who were out in the night during that time, and especially those who were down on their luck, could be easily possessed by the roaming spirits.
It was also in this month that many would note an increase in the number of road accidents and suicides. They reasoned that these cases were the deeds of malevolent spirits who were out to seek vengeance or simply to find a replacement so that their souls would be set free.
Our gang members often joked that when we walked the streets during the wee hours of the day in the seventh month, we would most likely meet some of the enemies which we had killed in battles. Then, we would send them our best wishes and watch them disappear into thin air. Secretly, I would watch the empty streets during this time and hoped to see my father who died in a road accident from driving drunk and tell him how much I hated him for ruining my life, but none of that ever happened. But then again, I never believed in ghosts.
As we walked past some of the people making offerings to appease the roaming spirits, a few of them cast suspicious glances at us while others simply avoided any eye contact for fear that they would see what they feared most. I didn’t care and neither did Sue. In fact, I rather enjoyed the scent of the joss sticks, which had a calming effect on me. Sue continued chatting until we reached my house.
I was exhausted by then from all the walking. With the help of Ming Chai, Sue laid me down on my bed. She stayed by my side, caressing my face. Then, she started to cry. Her tears surprised me as that was the first time I had seen her weep.
“Baby, it’s all right, I am here,” I said trying to hug her with my good arm.
“NO!” Sue pushed me away, hurting me, “You’ve got to stop doing what you’re doing. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
It was not the first time we had this discussion and every time, I would make excuses, dismiss her or change the topic.
“I am fine, baby. I’m here…” I began.
But Sue cut me off, “Stop! Or I’ll leave you!”
For a long time, no one had dared to threaten me. I was speechless. The threat did not sound real to me, so I started to change the topic.
Without another word, Sue got up and started to leave. Stunned, I moved too quickly, hurting my wounds again, and I moaned. This caught Sue’s attention and she turned back to me, worried look on her face. She still loved me very much after all.
“I will consider, my love,” I said after catching my breath.
My answer seemed to satisfy Sue and she smiled, putting me in cloud nine. Everything was going to be all right, I thought.
For the next couple of days, I slept for most of the day but no amount of rest could make me feel better. Food did not agree with me too as I threw up much of what I ate. The only thing that kept me going was cigarettes. The smell of tobacco made me lightheaded, took the edge off my pain and I almost felt good again.
During the evening, Sue would come to see me after work. She told her father she was staying with a girlfriend who had just gone through a breakup. The excuse was lame to me but it did not matter as long as she was with me. During the night, I watched her as she slept beside me, drinking in her scent, which soothed my pain.
On the third day, I seemed to have regained a little of my strength and I decided to go out of the house to meet Sue at the gate. Just as I reached the gate, I saw her slender figure appearing at the bend of the road leading to my place. She smiled when she saw me and quickened her pace. However, my eyes were not on her, but on a man about 10 feet behind her.
The old man did not move any closer. He just stood there, eyes staring in my direction, unwavering. As I made eye contact, I felt a force radiating from the man even though he was quite far away from me. I tried to break away from his stare but found myself frozen in the spot. A crushing sensation began to develop around my chest which I knew was caused by this invisible energy, making it hard to breathe.
Then Sue reached me and hugged me. I gasped. Her touch must have broken the spell. I bent down to kiss her and took in her scent which made me feel better instantly.
“Who’s that old man behind you?” I asked.
“What old man?” Sue replied.
We both looked behind Sue but the road was empty.
“He must have left,” I said, trying not to make a big deal out of it.
That night, I watched Sue sleeping by my side but I did not feel at ease. All I could think of was the old man. I knew he had followed Sue to my place. Who was he
? What did he want? Why?
I had dealt with many nasty characters before but this was the first time I felt intimidated. I could not figure out the reason behind my fear but it was real and it started to consume me. By morning, I was totally exhausted by the chaos in my mind that I slept fitfully throughout the day after Sue left for work.
“Wake up! You have to leave now!”
Ming Chai was shaking me as I opened my eyes, still fuzzy from sleep.
“Quick! There’s not much time left.”
Then, I heard the commotion outside. A woman was wailing and screaming at the same time, and there was a man shouting gruffly. As I listened, it became clear to me the woman was Sue.
At once, I pushed Ming Chai aside and ran out of my room. I swung the door open and saw the old man standing at the gate with his eyes closed. Behind him, Sue was trying to break free from her father.
“Get out, Ah Seng, now!” Sue yelled as soon as she saw me, her voice hoarse from crying.
The moment the old man heard Sue screaming my name, his eyes flew open. His stare pierced me and I was at once enveloped by the suffocating energy again. His lips began to move, speaking in a strange tongue, slowly at first then speeding up. As the chants accelerated, it grew louder, filling my ears, penetrating my mind and impaling me with agony. I felt the life being sucked out of my body as I crumbled to the ground, paralysed.
My flesh began to discolour in blotches of rancid grey. I was frightened by the sight. The odour from the rotting flesh was making me sick. At that point, I had lost control of my limbs but I was fully aware that I was floating out of my body. And I was soon hovering over myself.
“No! NO!” Ming Chai was shouting beside me.
He then ran to the gate and yelled at the old man, “What have you done?”
“Son, you know what you did was wrong. He has to return to where he belongs,” the old man replied calmly.
Sue’s father had released her by then. She rushed to my body and began sobbing. I wanted to comfort her but my fingers ran through her like evening mist. I sensed a shift of energy in Sue as my fingers ran through her body. Another life was beating inside her. It was then that I realised she was with child. My heart ached for my wife and unborn child but it was too late.
My surroundings began to dim. Everyone else was frozen in their spot. The only movement was the beating of their hearts in their chest which were now visible to me.
“It’s time to leave,” a deep voice said behind me.
Turning around, I saw two huge creatures dressed in ancient Chinese warrior’s costumes. Standing with animal legs, they towered above me. The one with the bull’s head held a forked spear while the other with a horse’s head was armed with a long spear. They were the infamous soldiers of the God of Hell who came to claim the souls of the dead. I stood before them, fearful yet mesmerised by their unworldly beauty.
Without another word, the bull face warrior pointed at me with his forked spear. A translucent lasso shot out from its tip and bounded itself tightly around my wrist. I felt electricity running through my entire being and became irresistibly drawn towards the creatures even though none of them was holding the lasso.
The creatures took a step and the scene around us changed instantly. We were walking on the street towards the mango tree in the night. The roadside was intermittently lined with offerings and burning joss sticks. There were some spirits crowding around these offerings but as soon as the creatures walked past them, they stood up to follow. A few others who were slow to get in line were electrocuted, emitting a stench of burning flesh.
Soon, our little procession had grown into a large crowd. We were all heading to the same destination, pale faces, limbs like tendrils of smoke, only dark patches on our transparent bodies mark the spot of Death’s kiss. The dead were returning to hell on the last day of the seventh month.
The mango tree opened up into a burning gate of fire, the heat so intense that I could see myself begin to evaporate. At that moment, I realised that this was how it really ends for the likes of me, a life full of regrets and condemned to an eternity in the inferno of hell.
Perhaps I would return to visit Sue on the next seventh month.
* * *
About Agnes Ong
A freelance web content writer and novelist in the making, Agnes is also an occasional blogger at Angie Creative Ink (www.angiecreativeink.com). Coping with an unknown nerve condition all her life has presented many challenges and it is through writing that she found solace, escape and revelation. She hopes that her work will continue to console, excite, delight and inspire many people from all walks of life to pursue their passion in life no matter who they are or where they are. Success achieved through many struggles is definitely much sweeter.
And Then It Rained
Rebecca Freeman
~ Australia ~
Toby mumbles in his sleep and I hold my breath as I watch him change positions. The mat gives a little protection from the dirt, but the rock is hard and I wonder how he can even fall asleep. But he’s four, and can sleep anywhere.
I think about his youthful resilience, so I don’t have to think about the fever. I have been putting off a trip into the Town for three days, in the hopes he’ll improve. I lie back down underneath the shade-cloth and look at the clouds through the tiny holes. There is a breeze and I can smell rain. Here, on the edge of the desert, that’s usually as good as we get, but maybe today will be different.
The change in atmosphere wakes Toby.
“Serena?”
I’m at his side before he begins to panic. The delirium takes over sometimes, in that space between sleep and wake.
“I’m hungry.”
I brush his dark hair back from his forehead.
“Want some biltong?”
He screws his face up. I don’t blame him; I hate the stuff, too, but it’s the only reliable protein we can get and I need to try and get him stronger so we can make the crossing. The Nullarbor used to be so easy. Nowadays, we gamble with the dry and the heat, and try to ignore the bones bleached white by the side of the road. I’ve made the crossing three times, practically a veteran, but that was before Toby, and it’s a whole lot different with a child on the back.
“Hey,” I say, “want to come into the Town with me? The greengrocer might be there.”
“She wasn’t there last time.”
Toby had sulked for days from the lack of fresh fruit. He tips his head back to look at me, dark eyes squinting.
“Come on,” I say. “You never know, there might be some other children.”
We both know that’s unlikely. All those in the Town are at least in their early twenties, and nobody ever talks about their own children, if they have them. It is as if he were the only one of his species. It’s one of the reasons I want to leave. I don’t trust most of the people here, and they don’t trust me. It has been getting more and more difficult to trade with them over the past weeks, and it’s making me uneasy. Best to go, even if we don’t have as much money as I would have hoped to raise.
I hold out my arms and he crawls into them. I want to cry and tell him I’m sorry. Sorry that he’s ill, sorry that we have so little, sorry for this shitty world. I hug him tighter and close my eyes.
“I’ll get the bike ready.”
He nods against my shoulder. I pass him a piece of dried mango, the last one we have, and he takes it without complaint, even though it’s all he’s eaten recently.
The bike starts on the first try. I want to take it as a good omen, but chances are there will be nothing to buy. And that the guy who sells cigarettes and chocolate in the small lean-to next to the drinking tent won’t be there. If I tell myself this enough, I won’t be disappointed if it turns out to be true. I check that I’ve got the book to return to him, and Toby appears at my hip.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Toby holds on tightly, arms almost all the way around my middle. He’s getting bigger, I think, and I push off and guide t
he bike down the rocky trail to the main track, and we jolt and judder for the next forty minutes, sweating underneath the bandannas which cover our noses and mouths from the dust.
The gunner nods at us from his makeshift watch tower, as I park up and remove the key. I get the feeling he’d be friendlier if we lived in the Town, but that goes for most of the people here. I give him a smile anyway.
As expected, there are only a few tables with anything worth buying, but I’m almost stupidly excited at the sight of melons and tomatoes. Toby sees them at the same time as I do, and we grin at each other.
Suspicious though they are, the people still need to barter, and I have what they want: tobacco, sugar, salt. I’ve brought a good amount to trade. We get two melons, which I sling in a string bag over my shoulder, and seven tomatoes, still attached to their vine. They smell incredible. I guess that they’ve been grown in the vegetable patch behind the greengrocer’s tent. How she keeps it going, and with what water, I don’t know, but I feel lucky to have so much fruit at once.
Amok: An Anthology of Asia-Pacific Speculative Fiction Page 26