Chapter 4

The taxi ride to West Coast Park took me fifteen minutes. By then, night had fallen and I had already stopped shedding tears. There were not many people around. Landy came an hour later and we climbed up the tall pyramid-shaped playground, lying on the ropes.

“You really want to tell him everything, don’t you?” Landy said. “Coz you feel like you’ve got a … bond with him.”

“He’ll get killed by me.” I whispered. “I don’t want danger to befall him.”

“But you really want to tell him about your problems. You really wanna tell him about your curse. I support you.”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, why not we play a game? If he’s here within fifteen minutes, you’ll tell him about your problems, okay? If not, we’ll sleep here for the night. Are you game for it?”

I looked up at the starless night. He would not be able to find me, I thought. “Deal.”

“Well then, I’m going down.” Landy reached down, grabbed the rope below and slowly made her way down.

“Huh?”

“Look down, my friend.” By then, Landy had reached the ground. She waved at me and I understood what she meant at the moment I looked down. Jacky, still in his uniform, walked past her. When he saw me, he smiled broadly and climbed up the ropes, flaunting his lean biceps. Within a few seconds, he was sitting beside me.

“How did you know I was here?” I said. “Landy called you?”

“Who’s Landy?” Jacky shrugged and shook his head.

“The girl who just walked past you.”

“Did anyone walk past me just now?” he furrowed his brows. “I didn’t notice. I just saw you.”

“Then, how did you know I’d be here?”

“I installed a tracer on your handphone. You know, like those tracers that secret agents use? I bought it on the black market. Cost me a bomb.”

I bit my lip and ignored his pointless remark.

“Joanna, can I tell you something?”

I nodded, stunned at his seriousness. He never usually bothers to request permission when he asked questions. What he had just said freaked me out. My eyes were fixed to the ground, my hand toying with the ropes that supported our weight.

“I know it’s one of the hardest things to do in the world … I know it’s like asking you to stuff your fist into your mouth or it’s like asking you to eat caterpillars, but …” he paused. I shivered. Gosh, he looked really serious when he was not smiling. “Will you … will you, believe me?”

“Believe you?” I twisted my head, almost relieved. “What do you mean?” I was not expecting him to say something so simple.

“Lend me an hour of your time. In this hour, I really hope you can believe in everything I say. Will you?”
I clenched my hand into a fist, thinking hard. I then recalled the deal I had with Landy. “Okay, I believe. Now, what do you want to say?”

“Tell me about your problems. Joanna, you’ll not fail if you keep trying.”

“No! No one can help-”

“Joanna!” And he did it: He held my hand and cried, “Believe me!”

I shook my head a few times, trying hard to believe him. I will not fail if I keep trying? I had always been trying … but I always failed. I’d given up hope on everything, choosing instead to live in my own world.
A minute passed silently. I gazed fixedly at the starless sky. Time seemed to be crawling by callously. I grabbed a rope, preparing to leap down when Landy’s words came to mind again. With that thought, I looked up at Jacky. His eyes darted towards mine. It was then that I realized he was still holding on to my left hand.

“Believe me.” he repeated, as he released my hand. I felt a surge of loss. “What is the reason that causes you to be so reserved? How did your parents … pass away?”

Tears started to well up in my eyes. I wanted so much to lay my head on his shoulder, but I feared he might feel uncomfortable. I shook my head a few times to hold back my tears. It was not an easy task. “I killed them.”

“Tell me more. Let me help.”

“You can’t help!” I yelled, my voice echoing in the quiet night.

“Believe in me!”

“You wouldn’t-”

“You have to be-”

“It’s too complica-”

“Believe me!”

“No one can help-”

“I can help you. I really can. Let me help, please. Believe in me.”

Somehow, my heart melted and I gave in.

“I was born into a perfect family. I had a father who drove a taxi and a mother who cooked for others.” I started, not daring to face him.

“That’s very good. Go on.”

“We lived simply, yet happily. My dad worked seven days a week. Every night, I would wait for my father to buy supper for us. The three of us would eat while watching television. That late night meal was the only time for us to be together. I would tell them about the new bully at school. They would teach me how to fight back.”

“You’ve got good parents.” Jacky cut in, obviously just to prove that he was still listening.

“Life was perfect. Just so perfect. Until one day … one day…” Whenever the memories flowed back, I would choke on my tears. Jacky patted me on my back, encouraging me to keep my composure. I knew if I was to tell him about myself, I would have to overcome those memories. “One day … that day …” I took a long, deep breath. “It all happened.”

“The day started like any other day. My father ate his breakfast in a rush and then went to work. As usual, I yelled ‘Drive carefully, Dad’ to him before he stepped out of the house. I was in school, listening to the teacher telling us everything about how apples drop to the ground when I saw my mother outside the classroom.

“I remembered that day, we were supposed to have a spelling test yet I had forgotten to bring the exercise book. I thought my mother was just there to pass me my book. Little did I expect it to be something more than just a book.

“She grabbed my hand and we left the school. No words were exchanged. We went into a taxi, and when she cried, I sensed something was wrong. Then, she hugged me, and I knew it was bad news.”
I paused. I needed a break from the bad memories flooding back. Jacky flashed his trademark smile and patted my shoulder. We stayed that way for a few more minutes.

“My father had died in a car accident. In his desperate attempt to fetch a passenger, he neglected his own safety. A lorry crashed into his taxi. He died instantly. I was only twelve then. I cried everyday, waiting for my supper to come. But every night, only memories of my Dad came back. I could no longer tell him about the new bully that came to my school.

“My mother, strangely, indirectly blamed me for his death. She claimed that had I not told my father to drive carefully, he might not have died. It made no sense at all. With my father’s death, my mother quitted her job and turned into a drunkard. She would return every night stinking of alcohol. I had no idea where she got the money.

“I was totally depressed with my broken family. I met a group of friends, when I was in Secondary One, at a stairway. They introduced to me ways to relax: smoking, drinking. I was lured in by the luxury of not having to care. I smoked my days away.”

“I cannot imagine you were once a smoker.” Jacky said.

“I was. Home was just a place for me to seek quarrels. I tried my best to stay away from my house. My mother would always call me names like ‘jinx’ or ‘bitch’, even in her sober state. Finally, one day, I had enough. I put all my clothes into a bag and shouted to her, ‘I hope you’ll die in a car accident, just like daddy. And I hope you’ll get crushed by a big lorry!’ After that, I stayed in my friend’s house for two days.

“And, two days later …” I was shuddering now, my tears rolling out like there was no tomorrow. I tried to brush them away, but they kept coming. I felt like jumping down to the ground now, ending the ordeal once and for all. Jacky’s hand was still clutching mine. Without warning, he embraced me, his body warming me up. He was shuddering along with me. I dropped my head onto his shoulder and whispered, “Two days later, my mother was crushed by a big lorry. She died on the spot.”

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