Chapter 19

My father tried to start a sideline business when I was eleven years old. When I could not sleep at night, he would often sneak into my room in the middle of the night. I had believed that he had some superpowers that would enable him to know which nights I could not sleep.

He said he had started a website to sell children’s clothing and an educational portal. Although I did not know what he was talking about, he would show me pictures of children’s dresses and asked for my opinion. I would point out the better dresses and he would continue to ask me questions like “do you think the colour appeals to you?” and “will you wear this outfit?”

Sometimes, when the clock ticked midnight and I was still not sleepy, my father would try to tell me stories. His stories had always not made sense; a boy jumped into the sea to save his father and then dug out a treasure box. A cat thought it had nine lives and in the end it had only eight. My father must be one of the worst story-tellers in Singapore. When I still did not slide to sleep and my father was yawning, he would start his talk on his business again.

“Doing business is kind of related to life. No matter what, we have to strike first without hesitating. Never hesitate; strike when the iron’s hot. One second of hesitation and you may lose everything.”
I embedded the words into my mind like how a child would remember how to spell the word “toy”. Strike first without hesitating. One second of hesitation and you lose.

“Like I didn’t consult your mother when I pumped in ten thousand into this business. Strike before anyone striked. Just like life, if you see something that needs to be done, do first. Don’t wait, for you may regret.”

I thought of all the quarrels in their room and I pondered on his sentences.

“Strike first and regret less than strike later and regret more. That’s it.” he stood up without warning me. I was getting more energetic with his words seeping into my mind.

Strike first, he had said. Two years later, that business failed and he lost more than twenty thousand dollars, with hundreds of children’s clothing piled up in the guest room. He said that he might have lost thirty thousand dollars but he had gained so much experience that it was all worth it.

To me, all I was thinking was that if he had really struck first without hesitating, the business might have bloomed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Talking to Chew Ling on the phone was like using a phone that was not working well; when Chew Ling coughed, I could hear static that was sharp to the ear. She just did not bother to turn away when she coughed.

“What did Miss Choo say in Project Work today?” she said. She had been calling me everyday since she started her medical leave. I tried to avoid her calls and would see “18 Missed Calls” on my handphone like she had called me every fifteen minutes.

“You and I, we’re in the same PW group.” I said indifferently. “With Serene, Pat and Shi Yun.”

“Oh, gosh, really? Holy fish! You girls are just so lucky! You girls must have chosen me, right?”

On the contrary, we would rather lick your feet than to be in the same group as you.

“Great! So what did Miss Choo say?” she said.

“Nothing.”

“Oh. Zinc called me everyday, you know. He’s definitely interested in me. I call him Moody because he keeps on calling me Sunny. You know, his-”

“When are you coming back?” I said.

“Oh, next week, I’d guess. What, the class is missing me already?” she machine-gunned on for another twenty minutes before she got weaker and went off to sleep. Throughout the twenty minutes, I was trimming my nails, looking for blackheads and arranging the t-shirts in my wardrobe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Life in school without Chew Ling is like having a good night’s sleep without a mosquito hovering above your bed. I did not have to worry that one of my muttered words would result in a bomb of theory from her, or the stares from different students that I had so detested. If there is a need to construct a word for Chew Ling’s absence, it will be “freedom”.

Chew Ling had told me yesterday on the phone that she might be coming back today. I was crossing my fingers in the morning, trying to be indifferent. When Chew Ling stepped out of a cab and looked around the school, I shrugged and dropped my head. I could hear her tailing coughs as she marched towards me.

“Hey! Fresh air! Everyone loves Chew Ling!” she said and coughed. “Oh, no worries. I’m well now. This should just be the asthma. How’re you, pal!” she patted me on my shoulder.

“Hey.” I whispered, not daring to look up at her.

“Many people must have missed me. Holy giraffe, you know I read over ten books within one week. Now I know how many hair I’ve got! One trivial question: How long will it take for a normal human being to grow one metre of hair?”

“Chew Ling,” I stood up. Chew Ling sat down. “We’re Project Work mates, okay.” I said and ran through the rehearsal I had made earlier this morning.

“Yeah, I know. You’re one lucky girl. It takes eight months to grow one metre of hair. But Asians like us grow faster. And of course, it all goes down to genetics as well.”

“We’re PW mates and that’s it, okay?” I said again, peeked at my watch and pressed my hands to my hips. Chew Ling was looking up at me like a dog to its owner. “So, well, yeah.” I said and felt stupid.

All I have to do is to avoid her, right? No need to give out this speech?

“No wonder a girl speaks thirty thousand words on average a day whereas a guy says ten thousand words on average per day. Come on, just tell me what you want to say? You miss me? Or what?” Chew Ling smiled and coughed three times.

“No, actually, I was hoping that in class, you’ll sit further away from me and during lunch time, you can join others for lunch. Yeah.” I grabbed my bag that was on the bench. Five more minutes before flag-raising. “That’s about it.”

“What?” Chew Ling jolted up from the seat and took a step forward, as if challenging me to a fight. “You don’t want to friend me anymore?”

I almost laughed; that sounded so kindergarten.

“They’re all looking at you. These students. I hang out with you, they look at me too. The least thing I want, Chew Ling, is attention.”

Strike first.

“Because of my asthma? I thought you’re different, Linda. You’re my best friend!”

I ducked my head to a side and stilled.

“Look, I can don’t cough. See?” Chew Ling took a deep breath and looked at me with the lower of her eyes. Her lower lips popped out. “See? How long? How about five minutes without coughing?” she nodded to herself and took another deep breath. “No problem!”

I glided the sling of my bag to my shoulder and slotted my hands into my pockets. Chew Ling’s face started to turn red. She exhaled and then inhaled again. Exhaled. Inhaled. Every breath she took sounded like she was whistling.

“See?” her single word sounded like a torture. She then turned to the side and coughed five times, ran towards the washroom and then changed direction halfway towards the drain and spat.

I did not know how many times she spat; she might have spat her whole lung out because I did not see her at the assembly area during flag-raising.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I almost coughed my whole lung out.” Chew Ling said when I was sitting in the Lecture Hall. There was an empty seat beside me and I shivered. “Anyway, Tan Chew Ling is Tan Cough Ling, so that means we’re now only PW mates, not friends. But we’ll keep in touch, okay?”

It all just did not feel right; people don’t come to you, say that we’re no longer friends, but we’ll keep in touch. That would never happen in reality; but the sick Cedar, she just said that, as if she was reading a script from a lousy local movie.

“See you.” she said and skipped off towards the seat nearer to the lecturer.

For the first time since I had entered Junior College, Tan Chew Ling was walking away from me and for the first time in my life, I felt like a part of me was gone.

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