In the 80s, Sarah's parents took the momentous decision to leave Singapore and uproot their family of five to Britain. Once there, she was plunged into a maelstrom of misery; being the last girl to be picked for a team, being called 'Chinks', being shown the slitty eyes; a misery that lasted till she entered university. Before she entered university, she would fantasise about returning to Singapore to look for a job after graduation. Then she would be able to blend into the mass again, wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb with her jet black hair and yellow skin. Then she met Harry at university. Harry Chan, a very nice boy from Hong Kong. When she first saw him, she fell for him straightaway. She felt she had been waiting for him all her life, a dizzy feeling that she could not dispel. Although her parents had never insisted that she marry a Chinese, they were still very glad when she brought him home. (No half angmoh grandchildren!) Finally, for the first time, she felt that she belonged in Britain. She was part of a team, a duo. For her, he decided not to return to Hong Kong. Her future was all mapped out, or so she thought, her marriage to harry being the central force that would hold everything together.
Then betrayal came. One evening finishing work early, she thought she would surprise Harry with a home cooked dinner. She realised something was wrong the moment she stepped into Harry's flat. In Harry's usually neat and tidy flat, clothes were strewn all over the place. Besides Harry's clothes, a pair of red lace panties was carelessly flung onto the sofa, on the carpet was a pool of slithered dress, a bra that matched the panties was on the floor leading to the bedroom. For an instant, Sarah thought that she was in a nightmare and would wake up any moment soon. She felt as if she were sucked into a swirling vortex of confusion, beyond thought or feeling. Unwilling to face reality, she walked out of the apartment and shut the door quietly.
Then she began to walk. With no destination in mind, she just walked and walked as the evening grew into night. Eventually, she end up in Hyde Park. Exhausted, she sat down on a bench. The numbness was beginning to wear off. In its place were pain, confusion (why? was he not happy with me?) and devastation. In one night, the gravity of her world had collapsed and she was set adrift in the world, the old alien world that frightened her. (Or am I the alien in the world?) She was no longer part of the team, all alone again. Sarah gradually realised that the sky was getting brighter and people were up and about. Sarah decided to retreat to her apartment with her crumpled suit and pale face.
Once in the apartment, she unplugged the fixed phone, switched off her handphone, latched her door, drew her curtains and went to bed without a change of clothes. There, she remained for 24 hours. Then the tears came. As she wept, the grief inside her was eventually dissolved by her hot tears until its remnants crystallised into a small rock of hate. So that when finally Harry banged on her door two days later, she was able to face him without any trace of tears. 'What the bloody hell is going on? Your office said that you've applied for three days sick leave. Are you sick? Why didn't you tell me if you're sick?' he demanded as she finally unlatched the door and let him in.
'I was sleeping,' Sarah lied. 'Well... you could still have come to the door faster,'he grumbled. 'What's wrong with you?' 'Nothing much. Just a common cold.' 'Hmm,' Harry looked at Sarah with narrowed eyes, 'you do look a little peaked. Have you been to the doc's?' Untruthfully, Sarah nodded. 'Well then, do you need me around?' Sarah saw the relief on his face when she shook her head. Although it was fleeting, she saw it because she was looking for it. Sarah suddenly felt very weary. She saw harry to the door and latched it after he had left. The she trudged to the sofa, collapsed and put her head into her folded arms. After an hour, more than ample time for harry to get home, she picked up the phone and dialled his number. No answer. She tried again. After that, she dialled his handphone number. 'Hello?' a husky, female voice purred down the line. In the background, she could hear the music of a live band. 'I would like to speak to Harry, please.' 'Sorry darling, he has gone to the restroom. Is it urgent?' she asked, with a trace of Cantonese accent. She was most probably someone from Hong Kong too. 'No, its nothing important.' By the time Sarah put down the receiver, she had made up her mind.
The next morning, she handed in her resignation letter. Blithely disregarding her parent's protest, she announced that she was returning to Singapore. Never mind that she had yet to find a job. She was determined to follow her old fantasy. Her siblings watched with round eyes as she packed her belongings ans waved farewell to them before stepping into the cab that would take her to Heathrow Airport. After she had landed at Changi Airport, she booked into a boutique hotel along Keong Siak Road. Keong Siak Road because it was a Chinatown and Chinatown because it was a focal point of her golden memories and of her glorious childhood days. Those were the days when her grandmother would bring her down to North Bridge Road to her mother's office. She would wave to her mother through the glass door. After that, it would be a sweet treat by the road, ice cream or maybe 'ting ting' sweet. Sometimes, there was also the anticipation of a simple toy.
She was very impressed when she stepped into the hotel. It was decorated with a modern theme and the lobby was littered with designer furniture. In the years that she had been away, Singapore's standard of living had caught up with Britain's. Through the glass divider, she could see as many locals dining in the posh in house restaurant as Caucasians and Japanese. In that instant, it suddenly hit her that what was lost could never be regained. Her fantasy of returning to Singapore and carrying on seamlessly from where she left off was just that, a fantasy. The realisation left a tinge of elusive bitter sweetness in her. yet, she was unwilling to leave. She couldn't explain it to herself but it seemed like the island was calling to her to stay. So she decided to stay on and explore the island for nostalgia's sake. She was in no hurry to look for a job. Her savings would see her through the next few months.
The next day, she went around the island visiting places from old. Using the MRT was not difficult. After the convoluted tube system in London, taking the MRT was a breeze. First she went to her old family home, a 3 room HDB flat in Redfill. The old block had undergone the Selective AEn Bloc Redevelopment Scheme (SERS) and was no longer recognisable, if not for the block number. Downstairs, there were newly reconstructed badminton courts and refurbished playgrounds. A wave of self pity swelled up within her. She did not even have a past to return to. She ventured up to the tenth floor and stopped outside her old unit. The place was all shut up. She guessed all the occupants had gone out to work. But she had this crazy impulse to press the bell, just to see if anyone would open the door. Daring herself, she lifted her finger and stabbed the button by the side of the door. The her courage failed her. She turned and walked away.
Doggedly, Sarah decided to visit her old school Sx. Txxx. She was determined to wring any therapeutic value that she could out of Singapore. sadly, it was the same story as her HDB flat. AS she strode up the little hillock in Telok Blangah, she noticed that the building had been altered drastically and it was no longer a combined primary and secondary school. There were no little girls in the ubiquitous blue uniform. Stopping one of the blue clad teenagers, she inquired about the change. 'Dunno,' the young girl shrugged her shoulders in indifference, exhibiting an absolute lack of interest and curiosity. Suppressing a sigh, Sarah continued her trek up to the school. It was late evening before she realised that it was futile to seek her past there. The old Singapore that she knew had been as cleanly severed from the present by progress and development as the cleaver of a butcher chopping off the trotter from the carcass of a pig.
On her way back to the hotel, in one of the alleys of Chinatown, she came across a fortune teller. Although she was not the superstitious type, she decided to give it a try. For fun. And because the fortune teller was so old, Sarah thought she should be resting at home, enjoying the company of her children and grandchildren, rather than eking out a meager living by spinning fabrications for tourist and superstitious housewives. if Sarah had to guess her age, she would speculate that she was in her eighties, because of her thinning white hair and shrivelled frame. She asked Sarah for her birth date. After referring to a thick book that was at least as ancient as herself, she shook her head. Then she wrote down some Chinese characters and referred to the tome once more. Finally, she looked up at Sarah who was beginning to get impatient.
'Miss, it's a good thing that you come to me today,' she said in Mandarin. which was not very convenient for Sarah whose command of her mother tongue was rusty because of disuse. 'Why is that?' Sarah asked in her heavily accented Chinese. 'From your birth date, I see that you're troubled by something that has happened recently. But this incident didn't happen by chance. It has happened because you've to pay for a debt from your past. Sarah was confused. She protested, 'I don't owe anybody money. I've never lived on credit!' it wasn't easy for her to translate her thoughts into Mandarin and credit must be given to the old hag who seemed to understand her clumsy Mandarin with little effort. In fact, she even seemed to be able to understand Sarah's thoughts before she voiced them out.
'When I talk about 'debts', I'm not necessarily referring to monetary debts. You had made someone a promise that you didn't honour and it is this debt that is causing you so much grief. You'll never find happiness until this debt is repaid!' Sarah was not really superstitious but she thought that since she was paying good money for it, she might as well take the interview more seriously. 'So how can I repay my debt?' 'Don't worry, the creditors will come to you. Why do you think you've cross the seas to return to Singapore? This was where the debt was incurred and this is where the knot that was tied will be unravelled.' sarah experienced a moment of uneasiness as she wondered how the old woman knew that she had come from abroad. Then she realised that her accent must have given her away. Shrugging, she asked the old woman how much the session would cost.
The old woman smiled, 'It is Fate brings you to Chan Po, I'll leave it to Fate too, to decree how much you'll give Chan Po.' Sarah fumbled with her wallet for a few seconds as she dithered over how much she should give her. Eventually, she left a red note on the table. by the time she left the stall, the sky was already dark. Looking down at her watch, Sarah realised that it was already later than half past seven. Her stomach rumbled to remind her that it had been more than eight hours since her last meal. Looking ahead, she saw that there was a restaurant just down the street. She entered and placed her order. After dinner, she walked along the same street till she saw Kreta Ayer Road. Then she turned and continued straight till she came to Keong Siak Road. The moment her feet touched Keong Siak Road, she suddenly felt very tired and sluggish, like she had taken some medicine that caused drowsiness. It seemed to her that the humid air of the night had suddenly become thicker, like she was walking through a viscous liquid.
When she looked at the street, she rubbed her eyes. For instead of her hotel, she saw before her a row of pre-conservation shop houses, all brightly lit with red lanterns. She walked back to the beginning of the street, there the street sign read 'Keong Siak Road'. She looked at the street again. This time, she also noticed many people milling around the shop houses, males and females. The odd thing about them was that they were all dressed in clothes from the pre-war era. The women were all dressed in cheongsams or fitting samfoos with matching flaring skirts. The men were dressed in gowns with a few wearing Western suits. Sarah's first thought was that she had come across a film company shooting a period piece. She thought that in her singlet, khaki culottes and backpack, she would ruin the scene. She backtracked to Kreta Ayer Road where she noticed that the modern facades of the eateries and companies were gone. Indeed, even in the darkness, she could see that the shop houses were newly painted and pristine in their original conditions.
lost in bizarre nightmarish labyrinth, Sarah had no choice but to return to Keong Siak Road, hoping that she would regain her senses, that her twenty first century hotel would be there, beckoning in its familiarity. No such luck. It was still the street of shop houses and red lanterns. Sarah decided that she would just have to venture forward and request for help. There must be a perfectly rational decision behind this apparent lunacy, like maybe there was filming going on and the shop houses were a facade behind which her hotel was snugly sitting. A lone man left one of the shop houses and staggered forward, like he was drunk. Sarah hurried forward, 'Excuse me, sir...' her voice petered off as she realised that the man was ignoring her, continuing to weave his way left and right ahead. Sarah turned back. She stepped towards one of the shop houses in the centre and saw that there was a sign hanging over the entrance that read in Chinese,'Spring Blooms Court'.
It dawned upon Sarah that she was looking at a brothel. her heart sank. If this scene before her was part of a filming process, she was sure that by now, the director or some other crew member would have rushed out to ask her to get the hell out of the way. What is happening? Two men exited from the 'Spring Blooms Court', arms over each other's shoulders and carousing in a drunkenly manner. They were on a collision path with Sarah who quickly swerved to the left, trying to get out of their way. But they continued walk straight ahead and although Sarah was not quick enough to get out of their way, there was no collision. An icy chill ran down Sarah's back. She realised that what she was seeing was not corporeal. Judging from the three men that she had seen, she knew that although she could see and hear what was going on, the players of the scene could neither see nor hear her. This bolstered her courage somewhat although another part of her, a detached, rational part of her, was doing the mental equivalent of slapping her forehead, rolling her eyes, exclaiming that it was not possible. She ignored that part. At the back of her mind, she recalled Chan Po's word,'... the creditor will come to you'.
Music from a turntable in the 'Spring Blooms Court' was blaring and spilling out of the building. She realised that the women were all dressed in bright colours; no self respecting lady in those days would be caught dead in such flamboyant hues. Out of curiosity, she stepped into the 'Spring Blooms Court'. She stopped in he tracks so suddenly that someone knocked into her from behind. She turned behind to apologize instinctively and saw that it was Japanese tourist dressed in a polo shirt and long surfer's shorts. She turned back again. She was in the familiar lobby of the hotel. Peering out of the glass frontage of the hotel, the red lanterns were gone, the old facades of the shop houses were all placed by snazzy ones of modern restaurants or posh designer companies. The music was a light Chopin piece, not the throaty and soulful burbling of a long dead, pre-war Shanghainese singer. The density of the atmosphere had also returned to normal, she no longer felt like she was breathing in liquid air. The woozy sleepy sensation was also gone.
Vaguely aware that people were having to detour around her to get in and out of the hotel, Sarah gave an apologetic smile to no one in particular and returned to her room. She was still in shock, not just because of the inexplicable experience but because she had actually seen Harry in the 'Spring Blooms Court' just before the Japanese bumped into her and yanked her back to the present from wherever she had been! The sighting was too fleeting for her to make sense of. All she remembered was the shock of seeing Harry's face. He looked a few years younger in the scene, more like the time when she had first met him in college but there was no mistake. It was he. He was dressed in a grey suit with a mandarin collar, an attire that had been worn by many of the better off Chinese males in the earlier part of the last century. He was talking to a woman in her early twenties, very attractive in a slutry way. The red rose in her head bobbed up and down as she nodded her head to agree with what Harry was saying, casting a glowing radiance on her mien.
Who was she? Why was Harry there? What was the significance of the scene? How did it come about? Was it he hallucination or had she crossed a boundary that divided time? Sarah felt that her head was going to burst with all the questions that were swimming inside, questions that she had no answer to. Too weary to analyse the situation any further, Sarah went through her daily ablutions and dropped into bed.
The night is pitch dark. I am hurrying, hurrying. I have to pass the message to Miss Rose at Keong Siak Road. Actually, I'm very scared to go to Keong Siak Road. All the servants say that that is a place only for women of loose values. If an innocent like me were to go there and be seen, my reputation would be torn to shreds. But I will do it for Young Master, even if it means that people will call me a slut for the rest of my life. I will do anything for Young Master. My fear retreated a little as I thought of kindly Young Master. I have been sold into the household as a servant for as long as I can remember. The older servants tell me that my parents were destitute immigrants from China. Arriving in Singapore, they had no money and were starving. Out of desperation, they sold me to the Eng family, a wealthy family trading in rice. I was about three or four then. I never minded. There were many other girls in my shoes and at least I had the good fortune to be sold to a benevolent family. Although Master is stern, he has never laid a finger on any of the servants. And we always have enough to eat, good clothes to wear, shoes for our feet, a comfortable place to sleep in, what more can we ask for? Mistress is very kind. She never raises her voice at us. She always gives her instructions in a calm manner and when we make mistakes, she only need to point it out once for it to be rectified immediately. The one who commits the error would be so remorseful for having done the wrong thing and upsetting the elegant lady that he or she would rush immediate the error. Then there is Young Master, the only child of Master and Mistress. When I had first entered the house, after I had performed the rites and rituals to inform the ancestors of the Engs, the holy ghosts looking out for the Engs from Heaven or Hell, depending upon your religion, that I was a new member of the family, he had stepped forward and pressed into my palm a boiled sweet. Never in my short life had I come across such a luxury. From that moment onwards, I belonged to Young Master, soul and mind.
I'm not foolish enough to imagine that Young Master would ever feel the same for me. Who has ever heard of such nonsense? I am only a maid! What I mean is that I will always serve Young Master faithfully, that even if it takes my life, I will fulfill every whim and fancy of his. Later, when Young Master marries, I will do the same for his wife and children. Talking about his wife. Sigh. I have always thought that Young Master would marry a young lady of compatible status, but he has proclaimed himself in love with a prostitute! I have never seen master so angry. Both of them, the young one and the old one, they are so headstrong they are more alike than they know. Poor Mistress, caught between them, does not know whom to beseech. Master has the upper hand. He is so angry that he threatens to disown Young Master if he marries Miss Rose.
Even I, who have been Young Master's playmate since young, don't understand his infatuation with such a woman. I have also thought that she could be eyeing his fortune. but Young Master was very angry when I voiced it out. He said that Miss Rose is not like that. He also said that she cannot help being what she is, for she has no choice in the circumstances of her birth (like me), and she loves him as truly as he loves her. He said it with such determination that I have to believe him. Even if he is wrong, I will be wrong together with him. Sometimes, being right is not all that important. But as always, might is stronger than right. Master has locked up Young Master in his suite. Master has arranged for Young Master to marry the daughter of one of his compatriots. This young lady would match Young Master in all ways. Master is a wealthy rise merchant, her father is a prosperous tea trader. They said that her Eight Characters matched those of Young Master very well, that she would bring him great riches and many children. I have never seen her of course. but Chan Soh has accompanied Mistress to the discussion and said that she was very refined, a true lady.
I had been a little hurt when she said that, 'a true lady'. I know. She was implying that the woman that Young Master has chosen is not a lady. Young master has told me before, after he returned from his studies in China, that we shouldn't judge a person from his material possessions or his status in society. Instead, he said, the true worth of a person lies in the measure of his character. So I shall remember that and not allow the malicious gossip of small minded people like Chan Soh to bother me. The situation is very urgent now. The wedding Master is arranging will take place soon. he is not taking any chances. He wants to get Young Master safely married as soon as possible. Young Master will be imprisoned until the day of his wedding, which is tomorrow. Master has said that he would drug Young Master if he has to, to get the deal done.
That is why my message is very important. I must tell Miss Rose to come to the house tonight. I will sneak Miss Rose into the house and together we will try to free Young master so that they can elope. It's very ironical. I, the loyal and faithful servant, am now the messenger and the spy. I, who only want happiness for Young Master, am helping him in this deed, which if accomplished will leave him penniless. What is the noise ahead? I can't see. It's too dark but I can hear men laughing and shouting. I fear that it is some ruffians. My legs feel weak. What shall I do? I need to pass the message to Miss Rose. But those men, everybody knows what happens when a young girl is found alone on the streets in the middle of the night. Who would believe that she is from an innocent background?
They are coming nearer! I must hide. Where? Where? They have seen me! Into the side of the road! Quickly, before they catch me! Once amongst the trees and bushes by the side of the road, I still don't feel safe and scramble into the thicker shrubbery. I can hear the sounds of pursuit behind. They are laughing and boasting to one another about what they would do to me if they catch me! Trashing into the thickly growing plants, I have no time to think of snake or other wild animals, all I want to do is to get safely away from the beasts chasing me. I claw my way into a particularly thick bush and squat there, praying. Someone must have answered my prayers. They cannot find me. There are four of them. They are blaming one another for running too slowly, for not watching me closely, for drinking too much wine earlier.
They decided to stop the search. One of them says to wait,he has something to settle. He walks towards me. I have to make an effort to stop myself from shivering, from breathing too loudly, from doing anything that may give me away. I close my eyes and wait for my fate. Warm droplets of water scatter over me. I don't know whether to be relieved or disgusted. that animal is urinating on me! After what seems like an eternity, he finally finishes and they beat the way out to the road again. I stay put in my hiding place, hearing them go away. I am too scared to moved. i stay in the same position for a long time. I only move when I hear a rustling sound beside me. Looking down, I see a black and yellow snake staring up at me. Shrieking, I fall and fall...
Sarah awoke with a thump. She realised that she must have failed her legs in the dream and hit her bed with them. Panting heavily, she tried to recollect the details. Did the nightmare have something to do with the 'debt'? Once it was light enough, she got out of the bed and washed herself. She got dressed and went down to the restaurant on the ground floor for breakfast. After breakfast, she hurriedly settled the bill and headed for Chan Po's stall. But Chan Po was not there. Sarah realised that it might have been to early. She stood there forlornly, wondering what she could do to while the hours away before she returned to seek Chan Po.
'Sarah, is that you?' Turning around, Sarah saw a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. the latter was straight at her with concentration, like trying to recall an event from a distant past. 'yes, I'm Sarah. Do I know you?' 'Oh Sarah, you haven't changed much!' The woman excitedly grabbed her hands and pumped them up and down vigorously. 'Don't you remember me? I'm Soo Yee, from Sx. Txxx. We were in the same class the year you went away. It took Sarah a few second before she could remember the skinny, bespectacled girl whom she used to spend all her recess time with. She looked at Soo Yee again. There was not a trace of the girl in the woman. The woman looking back at her was confident, not wearing glasses, and very well groomed. She would not look out of place at a high society function at all.
With the air of one who was used to taking charge, Soo Yee ushered Sarah into a Coffee Bean joint about 100 metres down the road. After she asked Sarah what she would like to have, she strode to the counter and placed an order for two beverages. Holding the tray in her hands, she returned to their table, set down the tray, passed Sarah's drink to her, removed her own drink and put the tray on one of the neighbouring tables which was unoccupied. Only after she had settled all this business, did she look at Sarah and say, 'I remember we were in Primary Four when you said that your father was going to move your whole family to Britain. So what's happened since then?'
'We settled down in London. Dad found a job as an engineer and Mum stayed at home to look after us. I did Accounting in college and went on to become a Chartered Accountant.' 'So are you back for holiday?' 'Yeah, you can say so. How about yourself? I mean how are you getting on?' 'Me? I'm doing alright, I suppose. Went to U, majored in law and I'm now working in a law firm, specializing in conveyancing.' 'I went back to Sx. Txxx. yesterday and saw that it no longer has a primary school. What happened?' 'Oh, you know how every year, after the PSLE results come out, the brightest pupils would transfer to go to other, better school?' 'Yeah, that's the usual practice. Why? Was there a problem?' 'Yup. The Principal then, Madam C, was very uptight about it. She felt that Sx. Txxx. was a good primary school but the secondary school could not achieve the same type of results because all the good pupils were always leaving for afher schools after completing their primary education, leaving behind vacancies that would be taken by the dregs of the education system, affecting the performance of the secondary school adversely. She took it quite badly, thinking that we were betraying our school or something. So not long after out batch had graduated, she applied to MOE to convert the school to a full secondary school amd MOE agreed. The rest is history.'
'i see.' Pause. 'Did you stay on in Sx. Txxx. Secondary?' Soo Yee gave a sheepish laugh. 'Nope, I was one of the traitors. I went on to Sx. Nxxx.' Both women spent a few more minutes reminiscing about their alma mater and some of their old school friends before Soo Yee, looking at her Tag Heuer watch, exclaimed, I'm late for work. I'm sorry, Sarah, which hotel are you staying in? Maybe we can do dinner together. Tell you what, this is my contact number', she hurriedly scribbled her name and phone number on a napkin and thrust it forward to Sarah, 'call me!' 'Before you go, can you tell me when is the fortune teller up the street going to open the stall?'
Soo Yee looked bewildered, 'I've been working here for the past two and the half years and I've never come across any fortune teller on this street. Besides, do you believe in such stuff?' 'No, not really. It's just that... a relative of mine told my mum that there is this fortune teller here, Chan Po, who is very accurate. So my mum asked me to go to her with some questions.' 'Right. Well, I'm sorry, 'cos I've never noticed any fortune teller here. But tell you what, I can ask my colleagues and see if they know anything. Even if they don't, I'll see if they have any reliable psychic that I can refer you to. So remember to call me!' 'Sure.'
Soo Yee was gone like a whirlwind. With no plans for the day, Sarah stayed on in the cafe and took her time to finish her mocha. She thought she would stay around in the vicinity to see if Chan Po would open her stall later. Anyway, the temperature was rising outside and Sarah had no wish to immerse herself in the tropical humidity, now that her urge for nostalgia had been overtaken by the new mystery. However, even after an hour, there was no action up the street. now, Sarah's mind was practically obsessed with what had happened to her in front of the hotel the night before and the dream she had. She was reluctant to leave the vicinity for any length of time. So she went to the counter, bought a sandwich and another coffee for lunch. She ate as slowly as she could to prolong the lunch. But she was still disappointed when after finishing her lunch, she saw no sign of Chan Po. In exasperation, she asked the staff of Coffee Ben if there was any bookshop nearby. They directed her to a second hand bookstore on the third level of the shopping complex. And that was where she spent the rest of the day, browsing the books and checking the time on her watch. She took two coffee breaks in the afternoon, returning to Coffee Bean each time, and checking to see if Chan Po had opened her stall. each time she was let down.
Finally, She decided to give it one last shot. Unable to stomach any more sustenance from Coffee Bean, she would search for a suitable spot for dinner. After dinner, she would try her luck one last time. if Chan Po was still absent, she would yield to the inevitable and call it a day. So she wandered off the main street into one of the back lines on which there was a shop that sold Teochew porridge. When Sarah left the shop, it was dark once more. Walking back to the street, she picked up the pace of her footsteps when she saw Chan Po at the stall. 'Chan Po,' she greeted the old woman in her rusty mandarin.
'Sit down, I've been expecting you,' Chan Po gestured to her to sit down on the shabby stol next to her. 'I... something strange happened to me yesterday night.' She described her strange sighting and her dream to the fortune teller. Chan Po nodded her desiccated, bird like head when Sarah finished her tale. 'Yes, it's about time everything is resolved, can't have things going round in perpetual circles. The knot that was tied must be unravelled.' 'Huh? I mean... Can you tell me the meaning of what I saw and dreamt yesterday?'
'Don't be so impatient, young one. All mysteries will be revealed shortly. What you owe, you will repay. Then the threads of your life can run forward again.' 'But how can I repay the 'debt'? I don't even know what debt I've incurred.' Chan Po looked lost in thought for a moment, like she was weighing the pros and cons of her decision. Then she made up her mind and looked up, 'It's really quite clear, isn't it? I don't know what they teach you young ones in school these days, when despite what your senses tell you, you can't figure it out yourself what is so obvious. The scene that you saw outside your hotel, don't you know that Keong Siak Road used to be lined with brothels? Was a scene from the past. The time has come when your life and your creditors will intersect once more. That's why you're seeing things; it's heaven's way of giving you clues to resolve the matter. For make no mistake, if you don't pay this debt in this lifetime, misery will plague you. For the rest of this life and the next, until you pay what is due!'
'I don't even believe in reincarnation,' whispered a dazed Sarah. 'I gather,' snorted the old woman rudely. 'Then how do you explain what you saw in place of your hotel yesterday night? You can sit here all night defending what you believe or disbelieve but if you cannot accept what is under your nose, you're just wasting your time and mine. The scene that you described to me was a scene from your previous life that took place on the very spot. And who are you to dispute the supernatural? Did you ever think about it? Why of all the hotel in Singapore, you chose to stay in the one which was exactly the same place where your young master had met his lover decades ago? if that isn't the working of Fate, I don't know what is.'
'You're saying that I knew Harry in my previous life? That then he wasn't Harry but the scion of a wealthy family and I was a lowly maid working for them?' 'What else can it be? and your dream, that's also a scene from your previous life. Somehow, something is working to blur the edge between times so that scenes that happened years ago are appearing before your eyes and in your dreams. Don't be frightened because that something doesn't mean you harm. It's actually helping you to gain more knowledge so that you can make the right decision when the time comes,'
'Do you know what that 'something' is?' Sarah asked. 'Don't be too greedy in your quest for knowledge. You only need to know enough to pay your debt. Don't probe into the ways of the supernatural. I can't divulge all heavenly secrets to you. You don't pay me enough!' Sarah scrutinised the old woman's face. Her eyes were twinkling. This time, Sarah fished out a fifty dollar note from her wallet. To her surprise, Chan Po shook her hands. 'Don't give the money to me. At Amoy street, there is a temple. Put it into the box there.' 'but Chan Po, I want to give this money to you. If you insist, then keep this. I'll donate a similar amount at the temple.'
'Silly girl, what's the point then? Just do as I say.' Seeing that Chan Po determined not to accept the money, Sarah nodded her acquiescence. 'I'll do that tomorrow.' 'Good, good.' Sarah returned to her hotel, wrote a letter to her parents, did a little reading, then went to bed.
I'm lying on something hard, cold and damp. I'm not in my bed. Where am I? I open my eyes. Plants, plenty of plants around me. Also plenty of little stones beneath me. So uncomfortable. What am I doing... Then I remember Young Master. After the scare I had with those men yesterday night, I fainted when I saw the snake and I have only just come to now, before dawn, cold, stiff and damp from the dew on the ground. I look at the sky, It's going to be dawn soon. Young Master's wedding1 Too late to get Miss Rose. I must go back and tell Young Master that I've failed him. Oh, I hope that I'm not too late. Hurry, the su is coming out soon. Hurry.
The house is coming into sight. Something was wrong. There is a commotion at the gate. At this time? Something is very wrong. I increase my pace. It's the male servants, Ah Fatt, Ah Lam and Ah ting. They're dragging Miss Rose into the house! What are they doing? It's Young Master's wedding today! Why are they bringing Miss Rose to the house? I slip in unnoticed. My sense that something is desperately wrong deepens. Usually, There are servants guarding the gates. Something terrible must have happened for this breach of security to take place. I head to where the noise is coming from. It's in the altar room, where the ancestors tablets are kept. I can hear crying there and someone shouting. My unease increases.
My world stops when I step into the altar room. There, lying on the floor, covered by a white sheet, Young Master, his face an unnatural shade of pink. I do not have to touch him to know that he is dead. I do not have to be in his room to know his last moments. He must have despaired what the night was almost over. I have been gone for so long. If Miss Rose wants to leave with him, she would have come. He must have thought that she was unwilling to leave her comfortable vice for unknown poverty. So when hope was almost gone, he chose the last path. He didn't know. He didn't know that Miss Rose did not receive the message. He didn't know that I was almost gang raped, that I saw a snake next to me, that I fainted and only regained consciousness less than an hour ago. He didn't know. He didn't know that I've failed him. He didn't know.
Miss Rose's screams jolt me. What is Master doing? His face even redder that Young Master's. He is maddened by the grief of losing his only son. There will be no son to carry on his name. There will be no son to carry out the rites at his funeral. He has made up his mind that all this is the fault of the vixen who has bewitched his son. She will pay for his death. His hands, holding the thick bamboo pole. strikes down again and again, landing on the soft flesh of the woman lying on the ground with dull thuds. he will kill her. He is not using the customary, thin canes used for disciplining the servants, more a deterrent than a punishment as he has never had to beat any of the servants. This is a pole of the same type that we use to hang clothes. He will kill her. Why is no one stopping him? I look round the room. All the servants are too scared to interfere. They have never seen Master in such a state. Mistress, she too lost in her own sorrow to be aware of what he is doing.
As for me, I fail Young Master a second time in the same night. Blood is beginning to splatter. I leave the room quietly. Finding a corner, I slither down onto the floor. I don't dare to tell Master the truth, that Young Master had made plans for elopement but I didn't play my part. I don't dare, for I fear that Master will turn his wrath on me and I will be the one receiving the strokes of the pole. I cover my ears with my hands. But I can still hear her screams. After what seems like an eternity, I hear the sound of the pole dropping onto the ground. Master steps out of the room and retires to his chamber. Mistress is helped out by Chan Soh who takes her back to her own room. Chan Soh looks at me sharply as she passes me in the corridor. I shrink back against the wall. Chan Soh is very sharp. Does she know my part in this?
Then the housekeeper instructs some of the male servants to take down the scarlet festive ornaments and put up white ones instead to indicate mourning. He whispers some instructions to others who then leave the house, no doubt to inform the guest that the wedding is off. The female servants, he despatches some of them to carry Miss Rose, who is unconscious, to the servants quarter and clean up her wounds. I creep to the servants quater. I hover around the women who are fetching water, white cloth. They shake their heads as they clean up Miss Rose's wounds. They whisper amongst themselves as they work. 'She will not be able to walk after this,' 'Serves her right. Who asks her to seduce Young Master? You think she really loves him? She only after his money,' 'Hush, whatever her motives, she has been punished.' 'What punishment? She is only going to be crippled. Young Master is dead.'
I do not want to hear anymore. I go to the vegetable plot. 'Where were you last night? Chan Soh' voice rings out nest to my ear. I gasp...
Sarah shot upright in bed. Her heart was racing. It's alright, it's only a dream, she told herself. When she had calmed down sufficiently, she got out of the bed and made herself a cup of tea. Sitting down in the armchair, sipping the tea, she organised her thoughts. She realised now that her creditor must be harry. A trace of bitterness surfaced. Well, now that he had jilted her in favour of another, maybe the debt can be settled. She will consult Chan Po about that later tonight. First, she would do as Chan Po had requested, donate the fifty dollars to the temple.
It was about nine when she found the temple with the help of a map. Once she reached the temple, for an instant, she was at a loss for she didn't know what to do. Her parents were atheists and she had never felt any need to beget a religion having grown up without one. She observed the worshipers around her and dredge through her own memories of a time before she moved to Britain, when she was impressionable, her paternal grandmother taking her on trips to temples. Combining her observations and memories, she faced the soot stained, forbidding idol and put her palms together. She lifted her hands to her forehead three times. Then she stepped up to the grey box below the idol and dropped fifty dollars through the slit. Mission accomplished, she turned to leave.
And stopped abruptly. For Harry was before her again. But not Harry from the past life. This Harry was dressed in a polo shirt and baggy bermudas, Nikon camera slung around his neck. For a wild moment, she thought that he had come to apologise, to seek reconciliation. Until she saw the woman by his side. Miss Rose. Without the red rose in her hair, even though she was in a wheelchair, her mien was radiant with simple joy. There was a mental click as everything fell in place. Chan Po's words came back to her, 'the creditors will come to you'. She walked towards them. They had seen her too. Harry look sheepish, like he had been caught with his hand in the candy jar.
'Hello, what a surprise to see you here, Harry.' She turned to Miss Rose, 'I'm Sarah. Has Harry told you about me?' 'Oh. Yes, he has. We had no idea that you are in Singapore. Actually, we have been wanting to talk to you...' The Cantonese accent. She was the one. 'It's alright. I knew about you before I left for Singapore. Right, Harry?' 'Er... yes.' 'But you didn't tell me, Harry.' Miss Rose saw that Sarah was looking at her legs. 'It's congenital. The doctors told my parents that I would never be able to walk.' Guilt sliced through Sarah. 'I'm sorry.' She looked at Harry and repeated, 'I'm sorry.'
'It's OK. Actually, I'm the one who should be apologising...' 'No, Harry, you don't understand,' Sarah reached her hands out to take one of Harry's hand and Miss Rose's hands. She placed them together in a firm clasp. 'I'm really sorry and I wish both of you all the best.' Harry looked confused. Miss Rose was touched, 'By the way my name is Kimberly. Let's get in touch in London.' 'Sure,' lied Sarah. 'See you guys around. Enjoy Singapore. She turned away just in time, just before the tears started to stream down her face as she strode to the hotel where she could cry for the loss of her own love.
In the afternoon, she booked a flight back to London for the very next day. She had concluded her business in Singapore. She had returned what she owed. Now, she could get on with her life. She hoped to see Chan Po one more time before she left, to thank her for everything. And there was one more thing. She dug out the napkin with Soo Yee's contact number from her wallet and called her. 'Hello, I would like to speak to Soo Yee, please. This is her friend, Sarah, speaking.' 'I've been waiting for your call, Sarah. Listen, I've been asking around for that Chan Po you were talking about. It seems that many years ago, just after the war, there was a fortune teller in that area by that name. She used to be a servant in a rich Chinese family. But her employers went bust after the war so she had to leave their employment and come out to work. People say that her predictions were very accurate and loads of people queued up to consult her. They called her the Half Deity. Only problem is she had passed away more than 10 years ago.'
Doggedly, Sarah decided to visit her old school Sx. Txxx. She was determined to wring any therapeutic value that she could out of Singapore. sadly, it was the same story as her HDB flat. AS she strode up the little hillock in Telok Blangah, she noticed that the building had been altered drastically and it was no longer a combined primary and secondary school. There were no little girls in the ubiquitous blue uniform. Stopping one of the blue clad teenagers, she inquired about the change. 'Dunno,' the young girl shrugged her shoulders in indifference, exhibiting an absolute lack of interest and curiosity. Suppressing a sigh, Sarah continued her trek up to the school. It was late evening before she realised that it was futile to seek her past there. The old Singapore that she knew had been as cleanly severed from the present by progress and development as the cleaver of a butcher chopping off the trotter from the carcass of a pig.
On her way back to the hotel, in one of the alleys of Chinatown, she came across a fortune teller. Although she was not the superstitious type, she decided to give it a try. For fun. And because the fortune teller was so old, Sarah thought she should be resting at home, enjoying the company of her children and grandchildren, rather than eking out a meager living by spinning fabrications for tourist and superstitious housewives. if Sarah had to guess her age, she would speculate that she was in her eighties, because of her thinning white hair and shrivelled frame. She asked Sarah for her birth date. After referring to a thick book that was at least as ancient as herself, she shook her head. Then she wrote down some Chinese characters and referred to the tome once more. Finally, she looked up at Sarah who was beginning to get impatient.
'Miss, it's a good thing that you come to me today,' she said in Mandarin. which was not very convenient for Sarah whose command of her mother tongue was rusty because of disuse. 'Why is that?' Sarah asked in her heavily accented Chinese. 'From your birth date, I see that you're troubled by something that has happened recently. But this incident didn't happen by chance. It has happened because you've to pay for a debt from your past. Sarah was confused. She protested, 'I don't owe anybody money. I've never lived on credit!' it wasn't easy for her to translate her thoughts into Mandarin and credit must be given to the old hag who seemed to understand her clumsy Mandarin with little effort. In fact, she even seemed to be able to understand Sarah's thoughts before she voiced them out.
'When I talk about 'debts', I'm not necessarily referring to monetary debts. You had made someone a promise that you didn't honour and it is this debt that is causing you so much grief. You'll never find happiness until this debt is repaid!' Sarah was not really superstitious but she thought that since she was paying good money for it, she might as well take the interview more seriously. 'So how can I repay my debt?' 'Don't worry, the creditors will come to you. Why do you think you've cross the seas to return to Singapore? This was where the debt was incurred and this is where the knot that was tied will be unravelled.' sarah experienced a moment of uneasiness as she wondered how the old woman knew that she had come from abroad. Then she realised that her accent must have given her away. Shrugging, she asked the old woman how much the session would cost.
The old woman smiled, 'It is Fate brings you to Chan Po, I'll leave it to Fate too, to decree how much you'll give Chan Po.' Sarah fumbled with her wallet for a few seconds as she dithered over how much she should give her. Eventually, she left a red note on the table. by the time she left the stall, the sky was already dark. Looking down at her watch, Sarah realised that it was already later than half past seven. Her stomach rumbled to remind her that it had been more than eight hours since her last meal. Looking ahead, she saw that there was a restaurant just down the street. She entered and placed her order. After dinner, she walked along the same street till she saw Kreta Ayer Road. Then she turned and continued straight till she came to Keong Siak Road. The moment her feet touched Keong Siak Road, she suddenly felt very tired and sluggish, like she had taken some medicine that caused drowsiness. It seemed to her that the humid air of the night had suddenly become thicker, like she was walking through a viscous liquid.
When she looked at the street, she rubbed her eyes. For instead of her hotel, she saw before her a row of pre-conservation shop houses, all brightly lit with red lanterns. She walked back to the beginning of the street, there the street sign read 'Keong Siak Road'. She looked at the street again. This time, she also noticed many people milling around the shop houses, males and females. The odd thing about them was that they were all dressed in clothes from the pre-war era. The women were all dressed in cheongsams or fitting samfoos with matching flaring skirts. The men were dressed in gowns with a few wearing Western suits. Sarah's first thought was that she had come across a film company shooting a period piece. She thought that in her singlet, khaki culottes and backpack, she would ruin the scene. She backtracked to Kreta Ayer Road where she noticed that the modern facades of the eateries and companies were gone. Indeed, even in the darkness, she could see that the shop houses were newly painted and pristine in their original conditions.
lost in bizarre nightmarish labyrinth, Sarah had no choice but to return to Keong Siak Road, hoping that she would regain her senses, that her twenty first century hotel would be there, beckoning in its familiarity. No such luck. It was still the street of shop houses and red lanterns. Sarah decided that she would just have to venture forward and request for help. There must be a perfectly rational decision behind this apparent lunacy, like maybe there was filming going on and the shop houses were a facade behind which her hotel was snugly sitting. A lone man left one of the shop houses and staggered forward, like he was drunk. Sarah hurried forward, 'Excuse me, sir...' her voice petered off as she realised that the man was ignoring her, continuing to weave his way left and right ahead. Sarah turned back. She stepped towards one of the shop houses in the centre and saw that there was a sign hanging over the entrance that read in Chinese,'Spring Blooms Court'.
It dawned upon Sarah that she was looking at a brothel. her heart sank. If this scene before her was part of a filming process, she was sure that by now, the director or some other crew member would have rushed out to ask her to get the hell out of the way. What is happening? Two men exited from the 'Spring Blooms Court', arms over each other's shoulders and carousing in a drunkenly manner. They were on a collision path with Sarah who quickly swerved to the left, trying to get out of their way. But they continued walk straight ahead and although Sarah was not quick enough to get out of their way, there was no collision. An icy chill ran down Sarah's back. She realised that what she was seeing was not corporeal. Judging from the three men that she had seen, she knew that although she could see and hear what was going on, the players of the scene could neither see nor hear her. This bolstered her courage somewhat although another part of her, a detached, rational part of her, was doing the mental equivalent of slapping her forehead, rolling her eyes, exclaiming that it was not possible. She ignored that part. At the back of her mind, she recalled Chan Po's word,'... the creditor will come to you'.
Music from a turntable in the 'Spring Blooms Court' was blaring and spilling out of the building. She realised that the women were all dressed in bright colours; no self respecting lady in those days would be caught dead in such flamboyant hues. Out of curiosity, she stepped into the 'Spring Blooms Court'. She stopped in he tracks so suddenly that someone knocked into her from behind. She turned behind to apologize instinctively and saw that it was Japanese tourist dressed in a polo shirt and long surfer's shorts. She turned back again. She was in the familiar lobby of the hotel. Peering out of the glass frontage of the hotel, the red lanterns were gone, the old facades of the shop houses were all placed by snazzy ones of modern restaurants or posh designer companies. The music was a light Chopin piece, not the throaty and soulful burbling of a long dead, pre-war Shanghainese singer. The density of the atmosphere had also returned to normal, she no longer felt like she was breathing in liquid air. The woozy sleepy sensation was also gone.
Vaguely aware that people were having to detour around her to get in and out of the hotel, Sarah gave an apologetic smile to no one in particular and returned to her room. She was still in shock, not just because of the inexplicable experience but because she had actually seen Harry in the 'Spring Blooms Court' just before the Japanese bumped into her and yanked her back to the present from wherever she had been! The sighting was too fleeting for her to make sense of. All she remembered was the shock of seeing Harry's face. He looked a few years younger in the scene, more like the time when she had first met him in college but there was no mistake. It was he. He was dressed in a grey suit with a mandarin collar, an attire that had been worn by many of the better off Chinese males in the earlier part of the last century. He was talking to a woman in her early twenties, very attractive in a slutry way. The red rose in her head bobbed up and down as she nodded her head to agree with what Harry was saying, casting a glowing radiance on her mien.
Who was she? Why was Harry there? What was the significance of the scene? How did it come about? Was it he hallucination or had she crossed a boundary that divided time? Sarah felt that her head was going to burst with all the questions that were swimming inside, questions that she had no answer to. Too weary to analyse the situation any further, Sarah went through her daily ablutions and dropped into bed.
The night is pitch dark. I am hurrying, hurrying. I have to pass the message to Miss Rose at Keong Siak Road. Actually, I'm very scared to go to Keong Siak Road. All the servants say that that is a place only for women of loose values. If an innocent like me were to go there and be seen, my reputation would be torn to shreds. But I will do it for Young Master, even if it means that people will call me a slut for the rest of my life. I will do anything for Young Master. My fear retreated a little as I thought of kindly Young Master. I have been sold into the household as a servant for as long as I can remember. The older servants tell me that my parents were destitute immigrants from China. Arriving in Singapore, they had no money and were starving. Out of desperation, they sold me to the Eng family, a wealthy family trading in rice. I was about three or four then. I never minded. There were many other girls in my shoes and at least I had the good fortune to be sold to a benevolent family. Although Master is stern, he has never laid a finger on any of the servants. And we always have enough to eat, good clothes to wear, shoes for our feet, a comfortable place to sleep in, what more can we ask for? Mistress is very kind. She never raises her voice at us. She always gives her instructions in a calm manner and when we make mistakes, she only need to point it out once for it to be rectified immediately. The one who commits the error would be so remorseful for having done the wrong thing and upsetting the elegant lady that he or she would rush immediate the error. Then there is Young Master, the only child of Master and Mistress. When I had first entered the house, after I had performed the rites and rituals to inform the ancestors of the Engs, the holy ghosts looking out for the Engs from Heaven or Hell, depending upon your religion, that I was a new member of the family, he had stepped forward and pressed into my palm a boiled sweet. Never in my short life had I come across such a luxury. From that moment onwards, I belonged to Young Master, soul and mind.
I'm not foolish enough to imagine that Young Master would ever feel the same for me. Who has ever heard of such nonsense? I am only a maid! What I mean is that I will always serve Young Master faithfully, that even if it takes my life, I will fulfill every whim and fancy of his. Later, when Young Master marries, I will do the same for his wife and children. Talking about his wife. Sigh. I have always thought that Young Master would marry a young lady of compatible status, but he has proclaimed himself in love with a prostitute! I have never seen master so angry. Both of them, the young one and the old one, they are so headstrong they are more alike than they know. Poor Mistress, caught between them, does not know whom to beseech. Master has the upper hand. He is so angry that he threatens to disown Young Master if he marries Miss Rose.
Even I, who have been Young Master's playmate since young, don't understand his infatuation with such a woman. I have also thought that she could be eyeing his fortune. but Young Master was very angry when I voiced it out. He said that Miss Rose is not like that. He also said that she cannot help being what she is, for she has no choice in the circumstances of her birth (like me), and she loves him as truly as he loves her. He said it with such determination that I have to believe him. Even if he is wrong, I will be wrong together with him. Sometimes, being right is not all that important. But as always, might is stronger than right. Master has locked up Young Master in his suite. Master has arranged for Young Master to marry the daughter of one of his compatriots. This young lady would match Young Master in all ways. Master is a wealthy rise merchant, her father is a prosperous tea trader. They said that her Eight Characters matched those of Young Master very well, that she would bring him great riches and many children. I have never seen her of course. but Chan Soh has accompanied Mistress to the discussion and said that she was very refined, a true lady.
I had been a little hurt when she said that, 'a true lady'. I know. She was implying that the woman that Young Master has chosen is not a lady. Young master has told me before, after he returned from his studies in China, that we shouldn't judge a person from his material possessions or his status in society. Instead, he said, the true worth of a person lies in the measure of his character. So I shall remember that and not allow the malicious gossip of small minded people like Chan Soh to bother me. The situation is very urgent now. The wedding Master is arranging will take place soon. he is not taking any chances. He wants to get Young Master safely married as soon as possible. Young Master will be imprisoned until the day of his wedding, which is tomorrow. Master has said that he would drug Young Master if he has to, to get the deal done.
That is why my message is very important. I must tell Miss Rose to come to the house tonight. I will sneak Miss Rose into the house and together we will try to free Young master so that they can elope. It's very ironical. I, the loyal and faithful servant, am now the messenger and the spy. I, who only want happiness for Young Master, am helping him in this deed, which if accomplished will leave him penniless. What is the noise ahead? I can't see. It's too dark but I can hear men laughing and shouting. I fear that it is some ruffians. My legs feel weak. What shall I do? I need to pass the message to Miss Rose. But those men, everybody knows what happens when a young girl is found alone on the streets in the middle of the night. Who would believe that she is from an innocent background?
They are coming nearer! I must hide. Where? Where? They have seen me! Into the side of the road! Quickly, before they catch me! Once amongst the trees and bushes by the side of the road, I still don't feel safe and scramble into the thicker shrubbery. I can hear the sounds of pursuit behind. They are laughing and boasting to one another about what they would do to me if they catch me! Trashing into the thickly growing plants, I have no time to think of snake or other wild animals, all I want to do is to get safely away from the beasts chasing me. I claw my way into a particularly thick bush and squat there, praying. Someone must have answered my prayers. They cannot find me. There are four of them. They are blaming one another for running too slowly, for not watching me closely, for drinking too much wine earlier.
They decided to stop the search. One of them says to wait,he has something to settle. He walks towards me. I have to make an effort to stop myself from shivering, from breathing too loudly, from doing anything that may give me away. I close my eyes and wait for my fate. Warm droplets of water scatter over me. I don't know whether to be relieved or disgusted. that animal is urinating on me! After what seems like an eternity, he finally finishes and they beat the way out to the road again. I stay put in my hiding place, hearing them go away. I am too scared to moved. i stay in the same position for a long time. I only move when I hear a rustling sound beside me. Looking down, I see a black and yellow snake staring up at me. Shrieking, I fall and fall...
Sarah awoke with a thump. She realised that she must have failed her legs in the dream and hit her bed with them. Panting heavily, she tried to recollect the details. Did the nightmare have something to do with the 'debt'? Once it was light enough, she got out of the bed and washed herself. She got dressed and went down to the restaurant on the ground floor for breakfast. After breakfast, she hurriedly settled the bill and headed for Chan Po's stall. But Chan Po was not there. Sarah realised that it might have been to early. She stood there forlornly, wondering what she could do to while the hours away before she returned to seek Chan Po.
'Sarah, is that you?' Turning around, Sarah saw a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. the latter was straight at her with concentration, like trying to recall an event from a distant past. 'yes, I'm Sarah. Do I know you?' 'Oh Sarah, you haven't changed much!' The woman excitedly grabbed her hands and pumped them up and down vigorously. 'Don't you remember me? I'm Soo Yee, from Sx. Txxx. We were in the same class the year you went away. It took Sarah a few second before she could remember the skinny, bespectacled girl whom she used to spend all her recess time with. She looked at Soo Yee again. There was not a trace of the girl in the woman. The woman looking back at her was confident, not wearing glasses, and very well groomed. She would not look out of place at a high society function at all.
With the air of one who was used to taking charge, Soo Yee ushered Sarah into a Coffee Bean joint about 100 metres down the road. After she asked Sarah what she would like to have, she strode to the counter and placed an order for two beverages. Holding the tray in her hands, she returned to their table, set down the tray, passed Sarah's drink to her, removed her own drink and put the tray on one of the neighbouring tables which was unoccupied. Only after she had settled all this business, did she look at Sarah and say, 'I remember we were in Primary Four when you said that your father was going to move your whole family to Britain. So what's happened since then?'
'We settled down in London. Dad found a job as an engineer and Mum stayed at home to look after us. I did Accounting in college and went on to become a Chartered Accountant.' 'So are you back for holiday?' 'Yeah, you can say so. How about yourself? I mean how are you getting on?' 'Me? I'm doing alright, I suppose. Went to U, majored in law and I'm now working in a law firm, specializing in conveyancing.' 'I went back to Sx. Txxx. yesterday and saw that it no longer has a primary school. What happened?' 'Oh, you know how every year, after the PSLE results come out, the brightest pupils would transfer to go to other, better school?' 'Yeah, that's the usual practice. Why? Was there a problem?' 'Yup. The Principal then, Madam C, was very uptight about it. She felt that Sx. Txxx. was a good primary school but the secondary school could not achieve the same type of results because all the good pupils were always leaving for afher schools after completing their primary education, leaving behind vacancies that would be taken by the dregs of the education system, affecting the performance of the secondary school adversely. She took it quite badly, thinking that we were betraying our school or something. So not long after out batch had graduated, she applied to MOE to convert the school to a full secondary school amd MOE agreed. The rest is history.'
'i see.' Pause. 'Did you stay on in Sx. Txxx. Secondary?' Soo Yee gave a sheepish laugh. 'Nope, I was one of the traitors. I went on to Sx. Nxxx.' Both women spent a few more minutes reminiscing about their alma mater and some of their old school friends before Soo Yee, looking at her Tag Heuer watch, exclaimed, I'm late for work. I'm sorry, Sarah, which hotel are you staying in? Maybe we can do dinner together. Tell you what, this is my contact number', she hurriedly scribbled her name and phone number on a napkin and thrust it forward to Sarah, 'call me!' 'Before you go, can you tell me when is the fortune teller up the street going to open the stall?'
Soo Yee looked bewildered, 'I've been working here for the past two and the half years and I've never come across any fortune teller on this street. Besides, do you believe in such stuff?' 'No, not really. It's just that... a relative of mine told my mum that there is this fortune teller here, Chan Po, who is very accurate. So my mum asked me to go to her with some questions.' 'Right. Well, I'm sorry, 'cos I've never noticed any fortune teller here. But tell you what, I can ask my colleagues and see if they know anything. Even if they don't, I'll see if they have any reliable psychic that I can refer you to. So remember to call me!' 'Sure.'
Soo Yee was gone like a whirlwind. With no plans for the day, Sarah stayed on in the cafe and took her time to finish her mocha. She thought she would stay around in the vicinity to see if Chan Po would open her stall later. Anyway, the temperature was rising outside and Sarah had no wish to immerse herself in the tropical humidity, now that her urge for nostalgia had been overtaken by the new mystery. However, even after an hour, there was no action up the street. now, Sarah's mind was practically obsessed with what had happened to her in front of the hotel the night before and the dream she had. She was reluctant to leave the vicinity for any length of time. So she went to the counter, bought a sandwich and another coffee for lunch. She ate as slowly as she could to prolong the lunch. But she was still disappointed when after finishing her lunch, she saw no sign of Chan Po. In exasperation, she asked the staff of Coffee Ben if there was any bookshop nearby. They directed her to a second hand bookstore on the third level of the shopping complex. And that was where she spent the rest of the day, browsing the books and checking the time on her watch. She took two coffee breaks in the afternoon, returning to Coffee Bean each time, and checking to see if Chan Po had opened her stall. each time she was let down.
Finally, She decided to give it one last shot. Unable to stomach any more sustenance from Coffee Bean, she would search for a suitable spot for dinner. After dinner, she would try her luck one last time. if Chan Po was still absent, she would yield to the inevitable and call it a day. So she wandered off the main street into one of the back lines on which there was a shop that sold Teochew porridge. When Sarah left the shop, it was dark once more. Walking back to the street, she picked up the pace of her footsteps when she saw Chan Po at the stall. 'Chan Po,' she greeted the old woman in her rusty mandarin.
'Sit down, I've been expecting you,' Chan Po gestured to her to sit down on the shabby stol next to her. 'I... something strange happened to me yesterday night.' She described her strange sighting and her dream to the fortune teller. Chan Po nodded her desiccated, bird like head when Sarah finished her tale. 'Yes, it's about time everything is resolved, can't have things going round in perpetual circles. The knot that was tied must be unravelled.' 'Huh? I mean... Can you tell me the meaning of what I saw and dreamt yesterday?'
'Don't be so impatient, young one. All mysteries will be revealed shortly. What you owe, you will repay. Then the threads of your life can run forward again.' 'But how can I repay the 'debt'? I don't even know what debt I've incurred.' Chan Po looked lost in thought for a moment, like she was weighing the pros and cons of her decision. Then she made up her mind and looked up, 'It's really quite clear, isn't it? I don't know what they teach you young ones in school these days, when despite what your senses tell you, you can't figure it out yourself what is so obvious. The scene that you saw outside your hotel, don't you know that Keong Siak Road used to be lined with brothels? Was a scene from the past. The time has come when your life and your creditors will intersect once more. That's why you're seeing things; it's heaven's way of giving you clues to resolve the matter. For make no mistake, if you don't pay this debt in this lifetime, misery will plague you. For the rest of this life and the next, until you pay what is due!'
'I don't even believe in reincarnation,' whispered a dazed Sarah. 'I gather,' snorted the old woman rudely. 'Then how do you explain what you saw in place of your hotel yesterday night? You can sit here all night defending what you believe or disbelieve but if you cannot accept what is under your nose, you're just wasting your time and mine. The scene that you described to me was a scene from your previous life that took place on the very spot. And who are you to dispute the supernatural? Did you ever think about it? Why of all the hotel in Singapore, you chose to stay in the one which was exactly the same place where your young master had met his lover decades ago? if that isn't the working of Fate, I don't know what is.'
'You're saying that I knew Harry in my previous life? That then he wasn't Harry but the scion of a wealthy family and I was a lowly maid working for them?' 'What else can it be? and your dream, that's also a scene from your previous life. Somehow, something is working to blur the edge between times so that scenes that happened years ago are appearing before your eyes and in your dreams. Don't be frightened because that something doesn't mean you harm. It's actually helping you to gain more knowledge so that you can make the right decision when the time comes,'
'Do you know what that 'something' is?' Sarah asked. 'Don't be too greedy in your quest for knowledge. You only need to know enough to pay your debt. Don't probe into the ways of the supernatural. I can't divulge all heavenly secrets to you. You don't pay me enough!' Sarah scrutinised the old woman's face. Her eyes were twinkling. This time, Sarah fished out a fifty dollar note from her wallet. To her surprise, Chan Po shook her hands. 'Don't give the money to me. At Amoy street, there is a temple. Put it into the box there.' 'but Chan Po, I want to give this money to you. If you insist, then keep this. I'll donate a similar amount at the temple.'
'Silly girl, what's the point then? Just do as I say.' Seeing that Chan Po determined not to accept the money, Sarah nodded her acquiescence. 'I'll do that tomorrow.' 'Good, good.' Sarah returned to her hotel, wrote a letter to her parents, did a little reading, then went to bed.
I'm lying on something hard, cold and damp. I'm not in my bed. Where am I? I open my eyes. Plants, plenty of plants around me. Also plenty of little stones beneath me. So uncomfortable. What am I doing... Then I remember Young Master. After the scare I had with those men yesterday night, I fainted when I saw the snake and I have only just come to now, before dawn, cold, stiff and damp from the dew on the ground. I look at the sky, It's going to be dawn soon. Young Master's wedding1 Too late to get Miss Rose. I must go back and tell Young Master that I've failed him. Oh, I hope that I'm not too late. Hurry, the su is coming out soon. Hurry.
The house is coming into sight. Something was wrong. There is a commotion at the gate. At this time? Something is very wrong. I increase my pace. It's the male servants, Ah Fatt, Ah Lam and Ah ting. They're dragging Miss Rose into the house! What are they doing? It's Young Master's wedding today! Why are they bringing Miss Rose to the house? I slip in unnoticed. My sense that something is desperately wrong deepens. Usually, There are servants guarding the gates. Something terrible must have happened for this breach of security to take place. I head to where the noise is coming from. It's in the altar room, where the ancestors tablets are kept. I can hear crying there and someone shouting. My unease increases.
My world stops when I step into the altar room. There, lying on the floor, covered by a white sheet, Young Master, his face an unnatural shade of pink. I do not have to touch him to know that he is dead. I do not have to be in his room to know his last moments. He must have despaired what the night was almost over. I have been gone for so long. If Miss Rose wants to leave with him, she would have come. He must have thought that she was unwilling to leave her comfortable vice for unknown poverty. So when hope was almost gone, he chose the last path. He didn't know. He didn't know that Miss Rose did not receive the message. He didn't know that I was almost gang raped, that I saw a snake next to me, that I fainted and only regained consciousness less than an hour ago. He didn't know. He didn't know that I've failed him. He didn't know.
Miss Rose's screams jolt me. What is Master doing? His face even redder that Young Master's. He is maddened by the grief of losing his only son. There will be no son to carry on his name. There will be no son to carry out the rites at his funeral. He has made up his mind that all this is the fault of the vixen who has bewitched his son. She will pay for his death. His hands, holding the thick bamboo pole. strikes down again and again, landing on the soft flesh of the woman lying on the ground with dull thuds. he will kill her. He is not using the customary, thin canes used for disciplining the servants, more a deterrent than a punishment as he has never had to beat any of the servants. This is a pole of the same type that we use to hang clothes. He will kill her. Why is no one stopping him? I look round the room. All the servants are too scared to interfere. They have never seen Master in such a state. Mistress, she too lost in her own sorrow to be aware of what he is doing.
As for me, I fail Young Master a second time in the same night. Blood is beginning to splatter. I leave the room quietly. Finding a corner, I slither down onto the floor. I don't dare to tell Master the truth, that Young Master had made plans for elopement but I didn't play my part. I don't dare, for I fear that Master will turn his wrath on me and I will be the one receiving the strokes of the pole. I cover my ears with my hands. But I can still hear her screams. After what seems like an eternity, I hear the sound of the pole dropping onto the ground. Master steps out of the room and retires to his chamber. Mistress is helped out by Chan Soh who takes her back to her own room. Chan Soh looks at me sharply as she passes me in the corridor. I shrink back against the wall. Chan Soh is very sharp. Does she know my part in this?
Then the housekeeper instructs some of the male servants to take down the scarlet festive ornaments and put up white ones instead to indicate mourning. He whispers some instructions to others who then leave the house, no doubt to inform the guest that the wedding is off. The female servants, he despatches some of them to carry Miss Rose, who is unconscious, to the servants quarter and clean up her wounds. I creep to the servants quater. I hover around the women who are fetching water, white cloth. They shake their heads as they clean up Miss Rose's wounds. They whisper amongst themselves as they work. 'She will not be able to walk after this,' 'Serves her right. Who asks her to seduce Young Master? You think she really loves him? She only after his money,' 'Hush, whatever her motives, she has been punished.' 'What punishment? She is only going to be crippled. Young Master is dead.'
I do not want to hear anymore. I go to the vegetable plot. 'Where were you last night? Chan Soh' voice rings out nest to my ear. I gasp...
Sarah shot upright in bed. Her heart was racing. It's alright, it's only a dream, she told herself. When she had calmed down sufficiently, she got out of the bed and made herself a cup of tea. Sitting down in the armchair, sipping the tea, she organised her thoughts. She realised now that her creditor must be harry. A trace of bitterness surfaced. Well, now that he had jilted her in favour of another, maybe the debt can be settled. She will consult Chan Po about that later tonight. First, she would do as Chan Po had requested, donate the fifty dollars to the temple.
It was about nine when she found the temple with the help of a map. Once she reached the temple, for an instant, she was at a loss for she didn't know what to do. Her parents were atheists and she had never felt any need to beget a religion having grown up without one. She observed the worshipers around her and dredge through her own memories of a time before she moved to Britain, when she was impressionable, her paternal grandmother taking her on trips to temples. Combining her observations and memories, she faced the soot stained, forbidding idol and put her palms together. She lifted her hands to her forehead three times. Then she stepped up to the grey box below the idol and dropped fifty dollars through the slit. Mission accomplished, she turned to leave.
And stopped abruptly. For Harry was before her again. But not Harry from the past life. This Harry was dressed in a polo shirt and baggy bermudas, Nikon camera slung around his neck. For a wild moment, she thought that he had come to apologise, to seek reconciliation. Until she saw the woman by his side. Miss Rose. Without the red rose in her hair, even though she was in a wheelchair, her mien was radiant with simple joy. There was a mental click as everything fell in place. Chan Po's words came back to her, 'the creditors will come to you'. She walked towards them. They had seen her too. Harry look sheepish, like he had been caught with his hand in the candy jar.
'Hello, what a surprise to see you here, Harry.' She turned to Miss Rose, 'I'm Sarah. Has Harry told you about me?' 'Oh. Yes, he has. We had no idea that you are in Singapore. Actually, we have been wanting to talk to you...' The Cantonese accent. She was the one. 'It's alright. I knew about you before I left for Singapore. Right, Harry?' 'Er... yes.' 'But you didn't tell me, Harry.' Miss Rose saw that Sarah was looking at her legs. 'It's congenital. The doctors told my parents that I would never be able to walk.' Guilt sliced through Sarah. 'I'm sorry.' She looked at Harry and repeated, 'I'm sorry.'
'It's OK. Actually, I'm the one who should be apologising...' 'No, Harry, you don't understand,' Sarah reached her hands out to take one of Harry's hand and Miss Rose's hands. She placed them together in a firm clasp. 'I'm really sorry and I wish both of you all the best.' Harry looked confused. Miss Rose was touched, 'By the way my name is Kimberly. Let's get in touch in London.' 'Sure,' lied Sarah. 'See you guys around. Enjoy Singapore. She turned away just in time, just before the tears started to stream down her face as she strode to the hotel where she could cry for the loss of her own love.
In the afternoon, she booked a flight back to London for the very next day. She had concluded her business in Singapore. She had returned what she owed. Now, she could get on with her life. She hoped to see Chan Po one more time before she left, to thank her for everything. And there was one more thing. She dug out the napkin with Soo Yee's contact number from her wallet and called her. 'Hello, I would like to speak to Soo Yee, please. This is her friend, Sarah, speaking.' 'I've been waiting for your call, Sarah. Listen, I've been asking around for that Chan Po you were talking about. It seems that many years ago, just after the war, there was a fortune teller in that area by that name. She used to be a servant in a rich Chinese family. But her employers went bust after the war so she had to leave their employment and come out to work. People say that her predictions were very accurate and loads of people queued up to consult her. They called her the Half Deity. Only problem is she had passed away more than 10 years ago.'
