I never knew that driving in the night could be such an enjoyable experience. It was some consolation for being retrenched. After all, when I was working as an auditor, I used to work day and night and never had the opportunity to drive at night. Although I could afford a small car, I decided to give the money to mother instead. I wanted her to quit her job at the factory. She took the money, saying that she would save it for me until I was ready to start a family. Meanwhile, she continued with that tedious and demanding job in the factory, claiming that she would be bored at home.
I took the MRT instead. The females threw me dirty looks every time I managed to grab a seat, as if it's their entitlement to be seated just because they wear the skirts. However, I always ended up feeling guilty but I had no desire to stand on my feet for forty minutes. So I always pretended to be asleep to avoid the dagger stares. The job was boring too, always having to go through the stocks, to count, check, and to add up figures. But mother said it was a respectable job and the prospects and money were good. Which was why she was very upset when I was retrenched. I was upset that she was upset. But I was also secretly relieved to get a break from the monotonous, mind numbing routine. Not knowing how long it would take me to get a job and not wanting to eat into our savings, I decided to put my idle driving license to good use, I became a taxi driver.
My acquaintances and ex colleagues were incredulous when they heard about it. They just could not understand why I, an accountancy graduate from Nanyang Technological University, could just swallow my pride and take on a mental job along with the uneducated Ah Pehs, why I was willing to fall out of the ranks of the professionals to become a proletariat. Common sense prevailed and I decided to be practical and ignore the people who disapproved. my father had died early, leaving little behind for his widow and infant son. My mother refused to say very much about him. Every time I asked about him, she would only purse her lips and said that he was a good for nothing who broke his promises and cared not at all for his family. I grew up not knowing what my father looked like. There was not a single photo of him in the family.
Many times I would wonder what father had done to earn mother's enmity such that she could not forgive him so many years after his death. I couldn't ask mother and there was no one else whom I could ask. I have no grandparents, aunties, uncles or cousins. Mother was a woman who like to keep her own counsel. Her aloofness could intimidate those who had the best intentions. As a little boy, my kinder neighbours would give me treats when they ran into me. Once mother knew about these treats, she would drag me to the genial culprit's house and insist on paying for the sweets or biscuits. This made the neighbours so uncomfortable that they soon learns to leave us alone.
Mother's unfriendliness was like invisible walls, enclosing the two of us in a chamber, separated from the rest of the world. It was only after I had started work and was still single that she started to worry. but by then, it was too late. The bonds between us so strong and dominant I no longer felt a need to extend beyond the small universe that bound only two of us. At times, during the rare moments when she was free, she would sit on her favourite seat, an old and fraying cane rocking chair, and a glassy look would come in to her eyes. At those times, she looked softer and younger. I liked to think then, that she was thinking of father. But I knew better than to ask. These times became rarer and rarer as I grew older.
Mother never talked about her past. But judging from all the low end jobs that she had to take up from chambermaid to washerwoman, it couldn't have prepared her for a life of independence. But then of course, during her generation, girls were bred to be wives, not career women. Yet, despite the odds, she managed to earn enough to keep us alive and send me to university. I will never be able to repay all that she has done for me. it is the least that I can do to make sure she lives comfortably now that I've grown up. That is why I did not hesitate in becoming a cabbie. After a few months into the job, I was proud to claim that my knowledge of the road and streets in Singapore had improved considerably. I even began to enjoy my job.
After gaining some confidence, I asked for the graveyard (5p.m - 5a.m) shift. This was so that I could spend the day preparing my resumes and CVs. I could also attend interviews during the day. That was when I discovered the joys of driving in the deep of the night, when the roads were almost empty and you could virtually fly through the darkness. It made me feel like I was the King of the Road. My mother was rather concerned. She was afraid for my safety. It was not just that I was a vulnerable target for muggers and other criminals, but also because she believed that there were also other non human predators out there roaming the dark. That was something I could not square with her no nonsense, hard nosed approach that had carried us through the dark days. Forced to survive, she could be pragmatic to a fault and still, she could be as gullible as any neighbourhood Auntie when it came to ghoulies and ghostlies.
One night, after dropping off a passenger at Bukit Timah, I was cruising along when I saw a figure by the side of the road. I stopped to let the woman board. She was in her late twenties or early thirties, She was rather attractive, with black, glossy straight hair and pale skin, the classic trademarks of a Chinese beauty. 'Adam Road.' 'Which part of Adam Road?' 'Never mind, I'll give you directions.' Curt and impatient. So I just started my meter and drove on. As I hit Adam Road, I glanced at her through the rear mirror, waiting for further instructions. She had dozed off. 'Miss! Miss!' No reaction from her. I wondered if she was drunk. But there was no scent of alcohol when she had got on. I had only caught a whiff of musky perfume that reminded me of frangipani or jasmine or some other fragrance local bloom. Botany has never been my strength.
I tried to rouse her unsuccessfully by calling her a few more times. At this rate, she would miss her destination and I would have to U turn. I pulled up by the side of the road. Getting down, I went to the back door and opened it. I hesitated. For we had been warned never to lay a finger on any female patron. What with the strict sexual harassment laws these days., it's best no to take any chance. But she could have fainted for all I knew. I got onto the seat beside her to take a closer look. She seemed to be deep asleep, with her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. but people don't just board a cab and fall asleep. One side of her white top, a wide V shaped cotton blouse, had slid off and revealed quite a bit of her chest. Suddenly, the night seemed to have become very warm. I could feel beads of perspiration on my upper lip.
Unbidden, I thought of mother and her no nonsense ways. Despite her brusqueness, she had always taught me to be upright and gentlemanly, a junzi in Chinese terms (hence all those guilt trips on the MRT during rush hour). Putting aside the carnal thoughts, I reached out my hand and shook her. Her flesh soft yet firm. But my moment of weakness had passed. 'Umm,' she moaned gently. Her dress shifted and even more of her breasts were exposed. At this rate, they would very soon fall out of the cotton shift. I tried deep breathing to calm down but my pulse continued to accelerate. 'Can I help?' a male voice asked in Hokkien. I turned around and saw a Chinese man in his early thirties, balding gently at the fringe. He peered into the cab. Aware of the potentially misleading scene, I hastened to explained my predicament.
'Really?' he intoned when he heard about my customer who would not wake. 'Let me help.' He bent to the cab. In a firm, authoritative voice, he said as he patted the lady gently on her arm, 'Miss, you've reached your destination. Please wake up.' She woke up so instantly that I felt like an idiot. In fact, she got down the cab in such haste that it was almost as if there were a venomous snake in the vehicle with her. 'Don't forget your fare,' the newcomer said wryly. Throwing a strange look of anger and fear at him, she reached into the billows of her flowing white attire and almost threw some bills at me. Before I could even count the money to see how much change I should give her, she had tramped off into the dark forest of Adam Road.
I turned to face the stranger. He was studying my face with such intensity that I was embarrassed. 'Thank you,' I said, sounding like a shy young child. 'Don't mention it.' I returned to the driver's seat and shivered. I checked the aircond button. I hadn't realised it but the air conditioning must be spoilt. For the button clearly pointed to 22C but it felt like a freezer in the car. I was about to drive off when I thought of something I could do to thank the man for helping me. 'Do you want to go anywhere?' 'Ang Mo Kio Avenue 3,' he said. 'What a coincidence, I live there. Do you live there too?' 'No, not anymore. But I want to go there to see some old friend.' 'Why don't you get in the cab? It'll be my treat. To thank you for helping me back there.' The man hesitated for a second. 'OK.' He boarded. He kept quiet throughout the whole journey. Looking at him through the back mirror, he seemed deep in thought. After fifteen minutes, we reached his destination. He opened the door and I thought he was going to alight. Instead, he tapped on my shoulder and said, 'You're a good man.'
I was stunned into silence for a moment. Then the ingrained cultivated response took over. 'Er, thank you, sir.' He smiled. 'But being good in this day and age is not going to help you much. You must learn to take care of yourself, especially if you're working in this line, where you're exposed to so many possible dangers.' With that, he alighted and strode off into darkness punctuated by the street lamps. After a few months as a cabbie, I was used to meeting all types. Shrugging it off, I continued my shift. by the time I knocked off, I was so tired that I didn't even bother to count my takings for the night. Taking the waist pouch that contained the money, I went straight home. Mother was in the rocking chair again. I was surprised as I hadn't seen her doing that for a few years already.
'Ma, are you OK?' my voice startled her from her reverie. 'Oh, yes. It's just that I had a dream.' She looked hesitant, as if she was wondering how much she should divulge. My surprise deepened as ever since I had started working, there was very little that she would not confide in me, apart from the past. It was like working was my certificate to be her equal. Then she asked, 'Was everything alright yesterday during your night shift?' 'Yes, why?' I was too embarrassed to tell her about the strange girl. 'Nothing, nothing. Good, good, as long as everything is fine,' half muttered to herself. but she still looked lost in thought. I was too tired to probe further. saying goodbye to her for she would be leaving for work soon, I went to bed. I was so tired that I slept till evening. It was hunger pangs that roused me from my dreams. I had missed lunch. I decided that I might as well have eraly dinner given the late hour.
Heating up what was meant to be my lunch, I took out my takings for the previous night and started to count the money. I sorted out the cash according to their denominations and came across a few pieces of hell money. After the first moment of surprise, I thought that I must have been careless and cheated by some customers. But no, I remember counting conscientiously all the money that was given to me. Then I recalled the Adam Road Woman. I had not counted her money. So it must be she. What is that woman up to? Feigning sleep in the cab and giving me fake money. I threw that fake notes into the bin in disgust and took my dinner. That night passed quickly without incident. Until predawn. I dropped off my last customer, a well heeled young lady, in Balmoral. I decided to return to Ang Mo Kio by taking the Adam Road-Lornie Road-Thompson Raod route. I was speeding along Adam Road when I suddenly saw a figure dressed in white in the middle of my path. I screeched to a halt, stopping just inches away from the figure. it was the woman who had given me hell money. She smiled at me and advanced towards my vehicle.
i do not know how I knew, but something instinctive awakened in me and I knew, I just knew there and then, that she was no earthly being. She meant me harm and all would be lost if she got to me. But despite knowing that I was in mortal danger, I just couldn't move an inch to save myself. I just sat there, paralysed, waiting for my doom. It took her less than a minute to get to my car but it seemed like an eternity as I waited my impending catastrophe. Unable to take the suspense, I shut my eyes. I squeezed them shut even tighter as I heard the back door being opened and shut. Seconds lapsed into minutes and there was still no action. But I didn't dare to open my eyes. Then a familiar voice asked, 'Is your cab for hire?'
I opened my eyes and turned around so swiftly that I felt a crick in my neck. it was the same man from last night. I looked back outside. There was no sight of that apparition anymore. 'There's no need to look for her. She has gone back to he lair and won;t be bothering you anymore tonight. But as I said, young man, you need to learn to protect yourself. Or change jobs.' 'You... you seem to know a lot about these things.' A chuckle from the stranger. 'Of course, this is my trade. I better know enough about it or I wouldn't last a day doing this.' 'Who was the woman?' 'She? She is a lost soul looking for victims. After she had lost you yesterday night, I think she could scarcely believe her good luck when you passed by here tonight again. Good thing for you that I'm around in the vicinity.'
'Thank you. Thank you very much for saving me.' A strange smile of bitterness and regret flashed over the man's face. 'Never mind, you and I are linked by fate. Moreover, it's the calling of my vocation. i have to use my powers to save the innocent. Here, take this.' He handed me an amulet, charms written in a vivid red paint on yellow paper. 'hang this in your cab, or better still, wear it around your neck for protection at all times.' 'Thank you. Do you still want to go to Ang Mo Kio?' 'No. No need. I've already settled my business in Ang Mo Kio. I won't need to go there anymore.' There was a tinge of yearning in his voice. 'How can I ever thank you enough...' 'Enough of this mawkish caterwauling, young man. I've told you that saving people is what I'm trained for. I'm just doing my job. Now just go and get on with your life. Go.' With that, he alighted. I looked at him one last time. He waved at me, turned and trudge back into the tall greens shrouding the side of the road.
I stayed on the spot for a few seconds, trying to sort out my topsy-turvy thoughts. Shaking my head in incredulity, I looked at the sky. it was getting light. I better get home soon. When I reached home, mother was in the living room. She was very agitated, almost hysterical. She was holding the hell money in her hands. She must have seen them when she was clearing the bin. 'What happened? Where did you get this from? Why didn't you tell me about this?' Realising that the cat was out of the bag, I decided that the best way to handle this was to tell her the whole truth. I told her everything that had happened the last two nights. When she heard about the unknown man who had come to my rescue twice, she started to cry. to say that I was shocked was an understatement. As far as I could remember, I had never, never ever seen mother weep. Not once.
When I finished my tale, she got up and went into her room. She returned with something in her hand. A yellow and brittle photograph. A photograph that had been torn into shreds before being painstakingly re-pieced, like a jigsaw puzzle. The subjects in the photograph were a couple in their late twenties or early thirties. The man was my saviour. The woman was pretty and heavily pregnant. Her sweetness was marred by the anxiety in her expression. The anxiety would mark her face years down the road and be uglified by bitterness. She was my mother that thirty years ago. It didn't take a genius to work out that my father was my saviour. But more questions formed in my whirling mind. As if she could read my mind., mother said, 'Yes, he is your father. He died days before you were born. He died from divine intervention. You could say that it was retribution from Heaven for meddling in people's fates.' A bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob. 'He was trained in the Maoist skills of magic and supernatural. I mat him when my father, a wealthy businessman, invited him to our mansion to exorcise a female ghost who had been haunting my eldest brother. Of course my father wouldn't allow us to get married. I was the only daughter from a respectable family whereas he was a vagabond. but I didn't care. I would only have him. So we eloped. Initially, I was happy even though I've had to do everything myself, Cooking, washing, tidying. Until I realised that none of the members from him sect ever crossed the age of thirty five. This is their punishment for obstructing the cycle of karma, or divine justice. For karma is a zero sum game, son. What is gained by one will be lost by another. The fates that fall on people are consequences of their actions in the past. Good reaps good, evil reaps evil.
So when someone has a bad life, it is his opportunity to atone for his past sin. If people like your father helps him, they are preventing him from righting his wrong. And the weight of the wrong is shifted to the meddler instead. I tried to persuade him to give up his job but he refused. he said that it was his calling. His life wasn't important. But he never gave me a thought. I was brought up to be a rich man's wife. I had no skill to eke out a living. If he were to die, what would happen to me? When your father refused to give up his trade, I was very angry with him. I was angry that he put all those nameless strangers that he helped before his wife. When he died, my anger turned to hatred. But I realised that my fate was to be a young widow with an infant child. Hatred compelled me to look after myself and you, to never beg another person for help. Hatred forced me to live on.
Then two nights ago, I dreamt about your father. He told me that although he was dead, he still retained some of his powers, one of which is to visit people in their dreams, but he had never attempted to come to me because he was too ashamed. He was looking for an opportunity to redeem himself before he did so. Two nights ago, the chance he was looking for come along. He predicted that you would be in danger so he set off to help you. Son, this year, your luck is really low. In fact, you may have some life threatening accident. You better quit your job. After you clear this hurdle, you'd have good luck and all things would work out smoothly for you. So I think you should take a long term view of things. Never mind if you don't have any income for the next few months. After all, we have enough savings and I'm still working. Money is really not all that important. What's the use of it if you can't live to use it? Believe me, I've witnessed your father's fortune telling powers. he's really very accurate.'
Of course I believe her. How could I not? Especially after what had happened to me in the last two nights. So I gave up driving taxi and concentrated on looking for a job commensurate with my qualifications and experience. And I'm happy to relate that two years down the road, I've found a great job with one of the Big Six accounting firms. More importantly, I've also met my prospective wife in the same department. It could be love at the first sight. But I prefer to think that I could tell a first glance that she's the one because I've inherited some of my father's fortune telling powers.
Whatever it is, mother is very happy. She is very excited about helping us to prepare for our wedding at the end of the year. She promised that she would give up her job to babysit her first grandchild. Better still, I believe that she is communicating with father on a regular basis. When father helped me, he also melted the ice that mother's hatred had formed over her heart. When she sits on the rocking chair, the expression on her face is that of contentment as she contemplates the present and future. She is convinced that 'accounts' of good and bad are no longer paramount; if one can lend a helping hand, why not? You never know when you may reap the good.
My acquaintances and ex colleagues were incredulous when they heard about it. They just could not understand why I, an accountancy graduate from Nanyang Technological University, could just swallow my pride and take on a mental job along with the uneducated Ah Pehs, why I was willing to fall out of the ranks of the professionals to become a proletariat. Common sense prevailed and I decided to be practical and ignore the people who disapproved. my father had died early, leaving little behind for his widow and infant son. My mother refused to say very much about him. Every time I asked about him, she would only purse her lips and said that he was a good for nothing who broke his promises and cared not at all for his family. I grew up not knowing what my father looked like. There was not a single photo of him in the family.
Many times I would wonder what father had done to earn mother's enmity such that she could not forgive him so many years after his death. I couldn't ask mother and there was no one else whom I could ask. I have no grandparents, aunties, uncles or cousins. Mother was a woman who like to keep her own counsel. Her aloofness could intimidate those who had the best intentions. As a little boy, my kinder neighbours would give me treats when they ran into me. Once mother knew about these treats, she would drag me to the genial culprit's house and insist on paying for the sweets or biscuits. This made the neighbours so uncomfortable that they soon learns to leave us alone.
Mother's unfriendliness was like invisible walls, enclosing the two of us in a chamber, separated from the rest of the world. It was only after I had started work and was still single that she started to worry. but by then, it was too late. The bonds between us so strong and dominant I no longer felt a need to extend beyond the small universe that bound only two of us. At times, during the rare moments when she was free, she would sit on her favourite seat, an old and fraying cane rocking chair, and a glassy look would come in to her eyes. At those times, she looked softer and younger. I liked to think then, that she was thinking of father. But I knew better than to ask. These times became rarer and rarer as I grew older.
Mother never talked about her past. But judging from all the low end jobs that she had to take up from chambermaid to washerwoman, it couldn't have prepared her for a life of independence. But then of course, during her generation, girls were bred to be wives, not career women. Yet, despite the odds, she managed to earn enough to keep us alive and send me to university. I will never be able to repay all that she has done for me. it is the least that I can do to make sure she lives comfortably now that I've grown up. That is why I did not hesitate in becoming a cabbie. After a few months into the job, I was proud to claim that my knowledge of the road and streets in Singapore had improved considerably. I even began to enjoy my job.
After gaining some confidence, I asked for the graveyard (5p.m - 5a.m) shift. This was so that I could spend the day preparing my resumes and CVs. I could also attend interviews during the day. That was when I discovered the joys of driving in the deep of the night, when the roads were almost empty and you could virtually fly through the darkness. It made me feel like I was the King of the Road. My mother was rather concerned. She was afraid for my safety. It was not just that I was a vulnerable target for muggers and other criminals, but also because she believed that there were also other non human predators out there roaming the dark. That was something I could not square with her no nonsense, hard nosed approach that had carried us through the dark days. Forced to survive, she could be pragmatic to a fault and still, she could be as gullible as any neighbourhood Auntie when it came to ghoulies and ghostlies.
One night, after dropping off a passenger at Bukit Timah, I was cruising along when I saw a figure by the side of the road. I stopped to let the woman board. She was in her late twenties or early thirties, She was rather attractive, with black, glossy straight hair and pale skin, the classic trademarks of a Chinese beauty. 'Adam Road.' 'Which part of Adam Road?' 'Never mind, I'll give you directions.' Curt and impatient. So I just started my meter and drove on. As I hit Adam Road, I glanced at her through the rear mirror, waiting for further instructions. She had dozed off. 'Miss! Miss!' No reaction from her. I wondered if she was drunk. But there was no scent of alcohol when she had got on. I had only caught a whiff of musky perfume that reminded me of frangipani or jasmine or some other fragrance local bloom. Botany has never been my strength.
I tried to rouse her unsuccessfully by calling her a few more times. At this rate, she would miss her destination and I would have to U turn. I pulled up by the side of the road. Getting down, I went to the back door and opened it. I hesitated. For we had been warned never to lay a finger on any female patron. What with the strict sexual harassment laws these days., it's best no to take any chance. But she could have fainted for all I knew. I got onto the seat beside her to take a closer look. She seemed to be deep asleep, with her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. but people don't just board a cab and fall asleep. One side of her white top, a wide V shaped cotton blouse, had slid off and revealed quite a bit of her chest. Suddenly, the night seemed to have become very warm. I could feel beads of perspiration on my upper lip.
Unbidden, I thought of mother and her no nonsense ways. Despite her brusqueness, she had always taught me to be upright and gentlemanly, a junzi in Chinese terms (hence all those guilt trips on the MRT during rush hour). Putting aside the carnal thoughts, I reached out my hand and shook her. Her flesh soft yet firm. But my moment of weakness had passed. 'Umm,' she moaned gently. Her dress shifted and even more of her breasts were exposed. At this rate, they would very soon fall out of the cotton shift. I tried deep breathing to calm down but my pulse continued to accelerate. 'Can I help?' a male voice asked in Hokkien. I turned around and saw a Chinese man in his early thirties, balding gently at the fringe. He peered into the cab. Aware of the potentially misleading scene, I hastened to explained my predicament.
'Really?' he intoned when he heard about my customer who would not wake. 'Let me help.' He bent to the cab. In a firm, authoritative voice, he said as he patted the lady gently on her arm, 'Miss, you've reached your destination. Please wake up.' She woke up so instantly that I felt like an idiot. In fact, she got down the cab in such haste that it was almost as if there were a venomous snake in the vehicle with her. 'Don't forget your fare,' the newcomer said wryly. Throwing a strange look of anger and fear at him, she reached into the billows of her flowing white attire and almost threw some bills at me. Before I could even count the money to see how much change I should give her, she had tramped off into the dark forest of Adam Road.
I turned to face the stranger. He was studying my face with such intensity that I was embarrassed. 'Thank you,' I said, sounding like a shy young child. 'Don't mention it.' I returned to the driver's seat and shivered. I checked the aircond button. I hadn't realised it but the air conditioning must be spoilt. For the button clearly pointed to 22C but it felt like a freezer in the car. I was about to drive off when I thought of something I could do to thank the man for helping me. 'Do you want to go anywhere?' 'Ang Mo Kio Avenue 3,' he said. 'What a coincidence, I live there. Do you live there too?' 'No, not anymore. But I want to go there to see some old friend.' 'Why don't you get in the cab? It'll be my treat. To thank you for helping me back there.' The man hesitated for a second. 'OK.' He boarded. He kept quiet throughout the whole journey. Looking at him through the back mirror, he seemed deep in thought. After fifteen minutes, we reached his destination. He opened the door and I thought he was going to alight. Instead, he tapped on my shoulder and said, 'You're a good man.'
I was stunned into silence for a moment. Then the ingrained cultivated response took over. 'Er, thank you, sir.' He smiled. 'But being good in this day and age is not going to help you much. You must learn to take care of yourself, especially if you're working in this line, where you're exposed to so many possible dangers.' With that, he alighted and strode off into darkness punctuated by the street lamps. After a few months as a cabbie, I was used to meeting all types. Shrugging it off, I continued my shift. by the time I knocked off, I was so tired that I didn't even bother to count my takings for the night. Taking the waist pouch that contained the money, I went straight home. Mother was in the rocking chair again. I was surprised as I hadn't seen her doing that for a few years already.
'Ma, are you OK?' my voice startled her from her reverie. 'Oh, yes. It's just that I had a dream.' She looked hesitant, as if she was wondering how much she should divulge. My surprise deepened as ever since I had started working, there was very little that she would not confide in me, apart from the past. It was like working was my certificate to be her equal. Then she asked, 'Was everything alright yesterday during your night shift?' 'Yes, why?' I was too embarrassed to tell her about the strange girl. 'Nothing, nothing. Good, good, as long as everything is fine,' half muttered to herself. but she still looked lost in thought. I was too tired to probe further. saying goodbye to her for she would be leaving for work soon, I went to bed. I was so tired that I slept till evening. It was hunger pangs that roused me from my dreams. I had missed lunch. I decided that I might as well have eraly dinner given the late hour.
Heating up what was meant to be my lunch, I took out my takings for the previous night and started to count the money. I sorted out the cash according to their denominations and came across a few pieces of hell money. After the first moment of surprise, I thought that I must have been careless and cheated by some customers. But no, I remember counting conscientiously all the money that was given to me. Then I recalled the Adam Road Woman. I had not counted her money. So it must be she. What is that woman up to? Feigning sleep in the cab and giving me fake money. I threw that fake notes into the bin in disgust and took my dinner. That night passed quickly without incident. Until predawn. I dropped off my last customer, a well heeled young lady, in Balmoral. I decided to return to Ang Mo Kio by taking the Adam Road-Lornie Road-Thompson Raod route. I was speeding along Adam Road when I suddenly saw a figure dressed in white in the middle of my path. I screeched to a halt, stopping just inches away from the figure. it was the woman who had given me hell money. She smiled at me and advanced towards my vehicle.
i do not know how I knew, but something instinctive awakened in me and I knew, I just knew there and then, that she was no earthly being. She meant me harm and all would be lost if she got to me. But despite knowing that I was in mortal danger, I just couldn't move an inch to save myself. I just sat there, paralysed, waiting for my doom. It took her less than a minute to get to my car but it seemed like an eternity as I waited my impending catastrophe. Unable to take the suspense, I shut my eyes. I squeezed them shut even tighter as I heard the back door being opened and shut. Seconds lapsed into minutes and there was still no action. But I didn't dare to open my eyes. Then a familiar voice asked, 'Is your cab for hire?'
I opened my eyes and turned around so swiftly that I felt a crick in my neck. it was the same man from last night. I looked back outside. There was no sight of that apparition anymore. 'There's no need to look for her. She has gone back to he lair and won;t be bothering you anymore tonight. But as I said, young man, you need to learn to protect yourself. Or change jobs.' 'You... you seem to know a lot about these things.' A chuckle from the stranger. 'Of course, this is my trade. I better know enough about it or I wouldn't last a day doing this.' 'Who was the woman?' 'She? She is a lost soul looking for victims. After she had lost you yesterday night, I think she could scarcely believe her good luck when you passed by here tonight again. Good thing for you that I'm around in the vicinity.'
'Thank you. Thank you very much for saving me.' A strange smile of bitterness and regret flashed over the man's face. 'Never mind, you and I are linked by fate. Moreover, it's the calling of my vocation. i have to use my powers to save the innocent. Here, take this.' He handed me an amulet, charms written in a vivid red paint on yellow paper. 'hang this in your cab, or better still, wear it around your neck for protection at all times.' 'Thank you. Do you still want to go to Ang Mo Kio?' 'No. No need. I've already settled my business in Ang Mo Kio. I won't need to go there anymore.' There was a tinge of yearning in his voice. 'How can I ever thank you enough...' 'Enough of this mawkish caterwauling, young man. I've told you that saving people is what I'm trained for. I'm just doing my job. Now just go and get on with your life. Go.' With that, he alighted. I looked at him one last time. He waved at me, turned and trudge back into the tall greens shrouding the side of the road.
I stayed on the spot for a few seconds, trying to sort out my topsy-turvy thoughts. Shaking my head in incredulity, I looked at the sky. it was getting light. I better get home soon. When I reached home, mother was in the living room. She was very agitated, almost hysterical. She was holding the hell money in her hands. She must have seen them when she was clearing the bin. 'What happened? Where did you get this from? Why didn't you tell me about this?' Realising that the cat was out of the bag, I decided that the best way to handle this was to tell her the whole truth. I told her everything that had happened the last two nights. When she heard about the unknown man who had come to my rescue twice, she started to cry. to say that I was shocked was an understatement. As far as I could remember, I had never, never ever seen mother weep. Not once.
When I finished my tale, she got up and went into her room. She returned with something in her hand. A yellow and brittle photograph. A photograph that had been torn into shreds before being painstakingly re-pieced, like a jigsaw puzzle. The subjects in the photograph were a couple in their late twenties or early thirties. The man was my saviour. The woman was pretty and heavily pregnant. Her sweetness was marred by the anxiety in her expression. The anxiety would mark her face years down the road and be uglified by bitterness. She was my mother that thirty years ago. It didn't take a genius to work out that my father was my saviour. But more questions formed in my whirling mind. As if she could read my mind., mother said, 'Yes, he is your father. He died days before you were born. He died from divine intervention. You could say that it was retribution from Heaven for meddling in people's fates.' A bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob. 'He was trained in the Maoist skills of magic and supernatural. I mat him when my father, a wealthy businessman, invited him to our mansion to exorcise a female ghost who had been haunting my eldest brother. Of course my father wouldn't allow us to get married. I was the only daughter from a respectable family whereas he was a vagabond. but I didn't care. I would only have him. So we eloped. Initially, I was happy even though I've had to do everything myself, Cooking, washing, tidying. Until I realised that none of the members from him sect ever crossed the age of thirty five. This is their punishment for obstructing the cycle of karma, or divine justice. For karma is a zero sum game, son. What is gained by one will be lost by another. The fates that fall on people are consequences of their actions in the past. Good reaps good, evil reaps evil.
So when someone has a bad life, it is his opportunity to atone for his past sin. If people like your father helps him, they are preventing him from righting his wrong. And the weight of the wrong is shifted to the meddler instead. I tried to persuade him to give up his job but he refused. he said that it was his calling. His life wasn't important. But he never gave me a thought. I was brought up to be a rich man's wife. I had no skill to eke out a living. If he were to die, what would happen to me? When your father refused to give up his trade, I was very angry with him. I was angry that he put all those nameless strangers that he helped before his wife. When he died, my anger turned to hatred. But I realised that my fate was to be a young widow with an infant child. Hatred compelled me to look after myself and you, to never beg another person for help. Hatred forced me to live on.
Then two nights ago, I dreamt about your father. He told me that although he was dead, he still retained some of his powers, one of which is to visit people in their dreams, but he had never attempted to come to me because he was too ashamed. He was looking for an opportunity to redeem himself before he did so. Two nights ago, the chance he was looking for come along. He predicted that you would be in danger so he set off to help you. Son, this year, your luck is really low. In fact, you may have some life threatening accident. You better quit your job. After you clear this hurdle, you'd have good luck and all things would work out smoothly for you. So I think you should take a long term view of things. Never mind if you don't have any income for the next few months. After all, we have enough savings and I'm still working. Money is really not all that important. What's the use of it if you can't live to use it? Believe me, I've witnessed your father's fortune telling powers. he's really very accurate.'
Of course I believe her. How could I not? Especially after what had happened to me in the last two nights. So I gave up driving taxi and concentrated on looking for a job commensurate with my qualifications and experience. And I'm happy to relate that two years down the road, I've found a great job with one of the Big Six accounting firms. More importantly, I've also met my prospective wife in the same department. It could be love at the first sight. But I prefer to think that I could tell a first glance that she's the one because I've inherited some of my father's fortune telling powers.
Whatever it is, mother is very happy. She is very excited about helping us to prepare for our wedding at the end of the year. She promised that she would give up her job to babysit her first grandchild. Better still, I believe that she is communicating with father on a regular basis. When father helped me, he also melted the ice that mother's hatred had formed over her heart. When she sits on the rocking chair, the expression on her face is that of contentment as she contemplates the present and future. She is convinced that 'accounts' of good and bad are no longer paramount; if one can lend a helping hand, why not? You never know when you may reap the good.
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