by Yap Swi Neo
* * *
Only I am brave enough to tell the truth. They are in a better place.
* * *
18 December
We received the keys to our HDB apartment five months ago. We have furnished it, and I decided to move out to our new home, Cyril’s and mine. Daddy hugged and kissed me and said, ‘I love you girl, I love you very much. Be happy.’ He gave me a heart-shaped gold pendent with a simple inscription, ‘I LOVE YOU’, and the look in his eyes said the unsaid, Mother need not know. Daddy and Cyril loaded my things into their cars and with J and W we drove to our apartment. We had a great time advising one another what to put where. We had family bonding. William and Jamie called Cyril ‘bro’. Cyril’s parents invited us for lunch. We were so happy. Mother said she had a facial appointment that day.
* * *
So you chose to cohabit. Have you no dignity, Lily? Henry, I’m disappointed. You cheated on me again! Like your parents, stabbed me in the back. A plain gold pendent! Cheapskate. I have my complete set of ruby and emeralds and jade.
* * *
31 December
We invited Daddy, Mother, Jamie and William over for a New Year’s Eve dinner. Daddy SMSed me: Darling, Law Society Annual Dinner. Apologies. Love lots always. I’ll call you. Mother made that decision. To be seen at the ‘right place’, on the ‘right occasion’ with the ‘right people’, in the ‘right attire’ was paramount, nothing else mattered.
We had a celebration with Cyril’s family. There was a great deal of noise, yet a deafening silence, an emptiness in my heart. Cyril noticed, told him we would not spoil our family’s happiness.
* * *
Lily, Lily what have you done to destroy your future.
* * *
1 January
I cried the whole of last night. Asked for time alone to collect my thoughts. Friends told me that parents’ objection to their children’s marriage for whatever reason was temporary. When the grandchildren arrive, joy and love return. They don’t know Mother. I need to talk to Daddy, my Daddy. Daddy, we know you came from a humble family. Being the youngest of three children you were fortunate that Aunty Amy and Aunty Rose were able to assist you in your uni days, even though you were on scholarship.
* * *
You were on scholarship, Henry, only some! You owed no one except me! I was your driver in my white Honda round campus, invited you to nice cafés for meals, not canteen fare, watched movies and bought you your required reading books.
* * *
14 January
This morning I went to get my wedding saris. Nai-Nai, if only you were here, you would be with me helping me with my wedding trousseau. You would be so happy to help me. You would insist on the reddest lipstick! Yes, Nai-Nai, I have the reddest lipstick. When I was a little girl you would dab a little perfume on my forehead, smell me, hug me then pat my bottom.
Will Daddy and Mother and Jamie and William be present? Sighhhhh. Daddy, I know you can’t do anything against Mother, but surely you can say something? Daddy, please come, please Daddy and Jamie and William too. Just this once I’m pleading and begging, Daddy. Daddy SMS’d me: Lily I will ‘give you away’ to Cyril. You deserve each other. William and Jamie excited – not attended a church wedding before. Daddy, my Daddy and my William and Jamie. Love you lots, lots. Mother? Sighhhhhh.
* * *
We are not Christians. You could have had your Prada wedding gown. You would look resplendent as I was on my wedding day. Henry had decided to ‘give away the bride’ in the Christian wedding tradition. Give her away, done! Henry, William and Jamie are mine!
* * *
31 January
Nai-Nai, Ye-Ye, two days before my wedding Cyril died. He was on his way to church to finalise the wedding preparations and he was in a hit and run accident. He had borrowed a friend’s motorbike, as our car was being decorated for the wedding. Cyril was declared ‘deceased’ when I arrived at the hospital.
I called home and Mother answered, ‘Mother, Cyril died in a hit and run accident this morning.’ And what was her response? She sounded relieved, telling me, ‘Now you’re free, my darling. We’re back as a family. First things first. We go collect your things from there. Then we need to go to HDB to settle that place. It now belongs to you. I’ll check whether you can sell it, or we have to return it to HDB. Then the car has to be sold …’ I did not wish to listen to her long tirades. I could not understand how a mother could be so soulless, so cruel, so punishing to her own daughter. Mother, you just plunged your lifetime warranty Senshi knife into me. No, knives don’t kill. People kill. Mother you win. I let you win.
* * *
Janice Low convinced herself Lily was out of her mind, could not think straight. She was a good wife and mother, caring, loving. Must be ‘that person’ who turned her against the family. She wept as befitting a mother who had to bury her child. Henry was too weak, weeping like a baby. He walked out on the family after the funeral. William and Jamie went with him. They abandoned me. He should be clearing this matter. I have to do all this! No one cared for me.
She must remain strong. Tomorrow she would hunt them down. She would find them easily, as she always had whenever Henry walked out. She wished Henry would verbally or even physically fight her. She would like a good fight and to win. No one must ever know of Lily’s Journal. She decided that the best place for the journal was in a tub of water and bleach, then dump the papier-mâché into the rubbish bin the next day. Now, what would she tell her family, her friends, her colleagues? She couldn’t think now, she was too tired. So many things to do tomorrow. She remembered Scarlet O’Hara’s ‘Tomorrow is another day’. Yes, tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow she would know what story to craft.
* * *
Housing and Development Board, a government project for public housing in Singapore. ↵
Lentils, preferred by Indians as curry. ↵
Coffee with milk, a derogatory term for children of mixed Chinese and Indian heritage. ↵
Father’s mother. Ye-Ye is father’s dad. ↵
Kam Jian Ding, PhD
This is the story of a former colleague, a shy gentleman who was besotted with a young, enthusiastic female colleague, several years his junior. He may have possessed a high IQ but the same cannot be said of his EQ.
Kam Jiān Dìng, PhD, newly graduated from The University of North Carolina, USA, arrives at School of Education, Singapore University for the Arts, for his first day of the academic year to meet colleagues and staff before classes commence. He is thirty-three, of medium height, lank, and straight haired, with a mouth that does not seem to know there is such a thing as a smile. When he walks, he appears like a cut-out figure of a shorter Confucius sans beard.
Kam, PhD believes that in the sphere of education it is a requisite to put on a stern facial solemnity, thus portraying a well-educated educator. He is determined in educating his class to perfection.
At the first staff meeting, the dean invites new staff to self-introduce.
‘Kam Jiān Dìng, PhD Philosophy, The University of North Carolina, major in Philosophy in Curriculum and Instruction (Early Childhood Education). I completed my research in thirty months, the shortest time in the history of the university, according to my professors. The only objective of education is learning, not teaching. I have prepared a short sketch of learning and teaching.
‘Here is Tan telling his friend Edwin he taught his dog Sterling to whistle. After a while Edwin says “I don’t hear Sterling whistle” to which Tan replies “I said I taught him, I did not say he has learnt”. Isn’t that what educators have been doing, teaching and not caring whether learning has taken place? I believe Bloom’s Taxonomy of Educational Objectives is the basis of sound education. Let me explain Bloom.’
The dean has to interrupt Kam, PhD. There are nine new staff. Kam loses his protest, is dejected but assures the staff he will expound Bloom further. He forgets Bloom was published in the 1950s. To regain his composure and perhaps his sense
of superiority, he requests staff with PhDs raise their hands. No hands are raised and he curves his lips up into a satisfying smirk, unaware all present refuse to raise theirs.
Dr Kam enters Lecture Theatre 12 for his first lecture. He sees eager eyes focus on him and is pleased. ‘Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Dr Kam Jiān Dìng, PhD Philosophy, The University of North Carolina. My major is Philosophy in Curriculum and Instruction (Early Childhood Education). My research was completed in thirty months, the shortest time in the history of the university, according to my professors. The only objective of education is learning, not teaching. I have prepared a short sketch of learning and teaching. Here is Tan telling his friend Edwin he taught his dog Sterling to whistle. After a while Edwin says “I don’t hear Sterling whistle” to which Tan replies “I said I taught him, I did not say he has learnt”. Isn’t that what educators have been doing, teaching and not caring whether learning has taken place? It is easy to teach, to ensure learning is difficult. But I am here to ensure learning. I always address my students “Ladies and Gentlemen” as respect is reciprocated with respect. You may address me “Doc”.’
Bloom’s taxonomy flashes on the screen, colourfully illustrated. The ladies and gentlemen’s boredom is lost on Doc. He congratulates himself on captivating his audience. The semester goes much too fast for him. He has not demonstrated the applications of each of the subcategories of the learning domains in depth. He makes a pledge he will insist on extra classes. He is self-sacrificing for the good of future generations. It is his fiduciary duty.
Doc hardly chats with colleagues in the staff room. No time for idle chatter, he mummers. At the end of semester tea, he chooses to sit in a corner, feeds his belly with food and blooms his mind – there can never be enough of Bloom. Suddenly he yells excitedly, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ closes his book, dismisses his plate, and skedaddles out. No one knows what the ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ is.
Doc sacrifices his vacation, scheming on how to get his ladies and gentlemen to debate him and the clever presentations of his subject. When the new semester starts Doc comes in as quietly as the falling leaves, several USBs on colourful lanyards strung round his neck like an overdressed mannequin displaying cheap accessories.
At his tutorial he is confident the debate, discussion and learning will be PhD worthy. On the screen:
You have a class of fifteen five-year old children, twelve girls and three boys. The girls form cliques, refuse to play with the boys. The boys then form their group and display disruptive behaviour. How would you apply the Psychology of Learning to promote class cohesiveness?
The ladies and gentlemen squirm a great deal, study the doodles on their desks, and add several more. Doc is delighted his students are deep in thought, after all his purpose in life is to get students to think deeply. Finally a lady responds, ‘Doc, small group discussion is of greater benefit then individual presentations. We have learned from you to think, analyse, discuss. When we discuss, two ideas from each grow into eight or more in a group.’
Doc agrees. He congratulates himself on having succeeded in teaching them independent learning.
Doc has to submit himself to a Class Lesson Observation, a requirement for confirmation into academia. Doc, with the cooperation of his ladies and gentlemen, delivers a lively discussion on the application of Bloom’s Domain on Psychomotor: Manual Skills Among Young Children.
Invigorated and confirmed into academia, he is determined to show his charms. He surprises colleagues with greetings and smiles and even eats with them during lunch. That generates conjectures of female companions, a great inheritance or a ‘born again’ conversion. The semester over, several of Doc’s colleagues conclude he is an amicable man after all, perhaps naïve in experiences of the ways of the world, or that he is simply unnecessarily worried about confirmation. Doc also pleads to be simply, ‘Kam, just Kam, my friend’.
At the new semester two new staff self-introduce. Doc is now Kam, single and available. That generates agitated whispers that Doc is finally opening up and that is good. He remembers the conversation with Mother when he showed her his newly purchased bubble glass and a goldfish to put on his bedside table. She had told him quietly, ‘You are thirty-three. Sleep with a woman, not a fish.’
Up she stands amongst them, ‘Melissa Goh Kuà Lè, PhD, Adult Education, University of Otago at Dunedin, New Zealand, single and available, just.’ When Kam meets the PhD eyes of Melissa he sojourns into the wild woods, into the rustic world of drifting yellow, brown, orange leaves, and the mating dance of the birds of paradise. The introduction of Dr Charles Apera Kingston from the same University of Otaga is only a murmuring in the breeze while Kam prances with Melissa in the woods.
‘Welcome everyone, now let’s have tea,’ the dean announces.
‘Electrifying lady, eh?’ Mrs Ng comments. Kam smiles. He is scarlet with excitement and with some touch of embarrassment as he gingerly meanders among the staff and totters towards Melissa. She, amused by his awkward attempts at gaiety and contrived elegance, puts him at ease with, ‘Kam, darling, what about dinner sometime. My place or yours?’
Scandalized at her public airing of great boldness at their first meeting, aware of the pricked eyes and ears in cemetery silence, he stammers, ‘Yes, sure. We can go to Kopitiam across the road. The nasi Padang there is good.[1] The fish head …’
‘Kam darling, a vodka, Ritz Carlton. Then oysters or lobsters, and perhaps some dancing later?’
‘I don’t drink, I mean Mother doesn’t like … I mean I can drink a little … shandy … you know some beer, some 7Up … maybe …’
‘Kam, darling, I’ll drink my vodka, then I’ll drink yours, mummy darling wouldn’t know.’
She is amused by his solemn air and puckered mouth, and sets him down as a mummy’s boy, to be taught to be a man. She can’t help becoming curious about this single and available man. Melissa explains she had said ‘dinner sometime’, that is, in the future, and the fish head and the vodka have to wait.
During the semester, Kam believes Melissa’s daily bold ‘darling’ is for him and the occasional soft ‘darling’ to others are a modest distraction of her interest in him. Kam, besotted with Melissa, only feels the innumerable strings of the violin softly strumming around his heart.
The ‘unavailable women’ eagle eye ‘single and available’ colleagues of both sexes as who would be a suitable match for both. The ‘unavailable women’ conspire: PhD from north of the equator, Early Childhood Education; PhD from south of the equator, Adult Education. He drops in like a fallen leaf, she dances in as if to a Mardi Gras party. He is steadfast Jiān Dìng; she is happy Kuà Lè. He is proper, white shirted and blue trousered, dress shoes. She allows her metre-long three-tiered multi-coloured tresses to brush the air. Her smile is impish, she is ready to tease and has an interesting vocabulary of many foreign words that no one understands – well, maybe not everyone. A Kam and a Goh, a perfect yin and yang, perfectly matched to make music as they sway hither and thither. Staff, however, are not unaware that Melissa and Charles arrive at work and leave together.
‘Kam, have you invited Melissa on a date? Why not invite her home?’ Mrs Ng suggests a few months later, sensing his agony on how to befriend Melissa, his abashed stammers even in his ‘good morning’, and his forlorn eyes following her and Charles in close proximity enjoying whispers, and laughing with abandon, oblivious to others.
‘Date Melissa? We see each other five days a week.’ He is surprised that he has to go on dates. Isn’t seeing each other five days a week sufficient?
‘I mean private time, just you and Melissa.’ He could not disguise the pounding of his heart, sending gushes of blood to his face. ‘If you’re not comfortable with dates, why not write some beautiful notes. Put one in her tray. If she responds then it’s clear she’s interested.’ Mrs Ng has plenty to offer.
Mrs Ng gives him several quotes. Kam studies them diligently, copies one and saves the rest for other days. He writes on a Mouth an
d Foot Association fundraising card in his neat writing in gold ink, and leaves it in Melissa’s mail tray early the next morning.
You are attractive, intelligent, creative and single.
Kam
After lunch he stations himself at the office mailroom to check his tray, any reply? Late afternoon in she breezes, her hair caressing him. ‘Hi, Kam darling, checking mail? Oops, mail for me. Tata. See you tomorrow,’ and surges out as quickly.
That night Kam sees Melissa curled on the sofa, no, in her bed, in her striped-pink pyjamas, matching his blue one, reading his card, kissing the words, pressing it to her pounding heart, smiling and drifting into sweet dreams. Kam allows himself to fly into romantic exhaustion, believing he will get up with Melissa beside him.
Early next morning he rushes to the mailroom. His tray is empty. He feels a decade has passed when finally there is a reply for him later that afternoon. On the envelope, above where he has written ‘Melissa’, is written ‘From’, and a line is written below his note.
You are attractive, intelligent, creative and single.
Kam
I’m over qualified xxxxxx.
Kam, deliriously happy, belts out, ‘Kisses for me, six kisses for me’. Mrs Ng, now his confidante, almost rattles off many six-letter words. Well, maybe ‘x’ here does mean kisses. She smiles. In the privacy of his room Kam closes his eyes, puckers his lips to suckle in the half dozen kisses. He researches kisses on Google and YouTube. He wants perfection when it comes breath-to-breath, nose-to-nose, lips-to-lips, tongue-to-tongue. Each day adds another six kisses. Before bed he slams his lips on his half-length mirror to practice the perfect kiss.