Chapter 14

Chew Ling’s asthma attack seemed to increase her reputation: When I was on my way to another class, I got three enquiries about her health condition and whether or not she was suffering from SARS or Tuberculosis or lung cancer or some infectious lung disease. When I told them that it was just a serious asthma attack, they nodded and gave me a look of disbelief.

During lunch break three days after Chew Ling’s attack, Serene sneaked up to me. I had not seen her coming; Chew Ling was out buying her laksa from Soupy Place and I was sitting alone on the bench sorting out notes that I would throw away soon.

“How’s the sicko Cedar? She ate two thousand Mentos and then drank six litres of Coke?”

When I looked into Serene’s eyes, I was expecting a look of mock: Narrow-eyed, scorning with curving eyes. But Serene was frowning, constantly looking around as if we were doing some million-dollar illegal drug deal.

“She won’t die.” I replied and slotted all the notes into Chew Ling’s bag. Her bag had always been my rubbish bin. “So, if you want to look for trouble, don’t look for her. She may just go out of breath and die.”
“Tell her,” Serene eyed around her again. No one noticed us as we looked like old pals in the same Secondary school. Chew Ling was dripping kilogrammes of chilli into her laksa. “Not to eat those fatty and oily stuffs like there’s no tomorrow. And to take care.” she said and wheeled off, her fringe fingering almost her cheeks.

I stared at Serene’s back for seconds before Chew Ling came back with a large bowl of red steamy laksa that could feed three adults.

“What’s wrong? The uncle said this is the largest bowl; told me to queue up and buy more if I’m not full enough.”

When Serene disappeared into the crowd, I turned to Chew Ling and said, “Just now, Serene told me to tell you to take care.”

Chew Ling grabbed the chopsticks and blew slowly on the noodles. “Ha, ha.” she said. “Joke of the year. Just now, missy also told me to tell you to go buy food now.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next week dragged on indifferently. In the morning, Chew Ling would tell me about some general knowledge that she had read the day before in-between her regular coughs. She fed me with so much information that I started to view her differently like she was a genius in the making. Once, she even told me how many stars are there in the universe; how many zeros are there in a googolplex; why cats can see better in the night and even the anatomy of a human brain.

After her severe asthma attack that day, NYJC circulated a tale that many people believed: That Chew Ling was suffering from some lung disease which could be contagious. They started to give Chew Ling nicknames, like “the sick Cedar” or “the Cedar girl with SARS”. Whenever Chew Ling heard these names being called, she would go up to that person, gave him or her a talk on her asthma in-between her coughs.

I met up with Zinc a few more times. He is the only person who knew about my past; the truth. I would call him out, meet up at the café in West Mall and tell him about my school.

Zinc works in a printing factory at Tuas, packing books and papers. He is in the morning shift, which means he starts work at seven and ends work at three. All the money that he earns goes to his mother who helps to deposit it into his bank account.

“I think I got over ten thousand. One, two, three, four… four zeros.” he had grinned proudly of the money he had. Talking to him had been a pleasant experience: What he said came from his heart. He would not think about the words that he used, or that he would offend anyone with his speech

Just like someone who doesn’t bother to pose when taking a photo, for that is the most natural shot and also, the happiest. Photogenic is just an incentive.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lunar New Year is about a month from now. When I was thirteen years old, I had gone to all my relatives’ houses in pride. I was a perfect girl then: I had just gotten into River Valley High School, one of the best schools in Singapore, and I had matured into a pretty girl. Every relative greeted me differently; they realized they were talking to a lady, not a girl anymore. I would catwalk around my relatives’ houses, showcasing the latest dress that I had bought for Lunar New Year.

When I was fourteen, I was the envy of everyone. I had a boyfriend and he looked like Andy Lau in the making. I wore expensive dresses, a branded watch and had come in first in my class. Every uncle and auntie praised every aspect of me: My looks, my brain and my achievements. I gave every one of them a nonchalant look and just said gently: “It’s nothing, lah.”

But things changed when I was fifteen. I was a raped victim; I started to lose all the things I had. I told my parents I was sick during the first day of Lunar New Year and stayed at home to watch DVDs. Last year, I told my parents I was sick again and slept through the whole day.

This year, I reckon, it will be the same: I will be home alone, telling others that I am sick. In fact, that may be partially true.

I may not be sick physically, but emotionally.

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