Chapter 11

My friends “introduced” disco to me when I was fifteen years old.

They said that it was a great place to make new friends. I could forget all my worries and just dance my way through the night. All I needed was about twenty to thirty dollars to enjoy the night off.

My mother gave me only three dollars a day for my lunch. I would spend two dollars on food and, then, save the one dollar. When I had finally saved about twenty dollars, I agreed to go to one of the clubs in Clarke Quay with Teresa and her brother, on a Saturday night.

“What? You’ll come home only at three in the morning? No! You’re only fifteen, for god’s sake!” I remembered my mother’s reaction when I told her about it.

“Teresa and I will take a taxi home. Don’t worry, Singapore is so safe-”

“No!” my mother retorted. She stroked her forehead and shook her head. “You’re only fifteen! You’re not supposed to go to those complicated places! The age limit there is eighteen! There’re many idiots there!”

“Teresa said that she’s got some membership and that the bouncer will let us in! Free of charge! We cannot buy alcohol-”

“Alcoholic drinks? No! No, ah girl, tonight, you stay home. You hear me? Teresa is an idiot!”

I had already changed into a Pure Milk t-shirt and a denim mini-skirt. I was so ready to go out and I had not expected my mother to reject me. My eyes slipped to the clock. I had to meet Teresa in an hour’s time at Raffles’ Place MRT Station.

“You hear me, ah girl? Those places are very complicated. And addictive. What if you pick up some bad habits?” My mother switched off the television and ambled towards me. “We’ll go eat dinner. Okay? I’ll buy you one new t-shirt. At Jurong Point, the pink colour shop. Pour Milk. Okay? Don’t go-”

“Mama, Teresa’s mother gives her a hundred dollars every week! You only give me three dollars a day! Teresa’s mother allows her to go dancing! You force me to stay at home! Teresa’s mother buys things for her! You!” I grabbed my tote bag tighter and marched to the door. “You treat me like a girl! I’m fifteen, mama! I’m bloody hell fifteen, not ten years old! You don’t control me!”

With that, I pushed open the gates and rushed out. My mother did not stop me.

I enjoyed myself that night. Twenty dollars was not enough; all I could get was one small glass of alcoholic drink. Teresa’s brother, Wilson, bought it for us. But, after downing the drink, I felt a little heavy on my face. It was a new experience for me.

Teresa and I danced our night off. We just shook according to the music. A few guys came forward and tried to dance with us. I remembered Teresa exchanging glances with a guy. A twenty-year old lean guy came forward and asked for my name, when Teresa went to the toilet. After a brief chat, he offered to take me home in his car.

“I drive a Mazda 3.” he said. I had no idea what was that. I rejected his offer. At around three, Teresa, her brother and I shared a cab to go home.

I was the last to alight. When I was pacing towards the lift at the void deck, I saw my mother sitting on the bench near the lift lobby. When she saw me, she sped towards me. I took a step back.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. She had to be at work by five in the morning!

My mother yawned and offered to carry my bag. “Had fun?”

“Mama, what in the bloody hell are you doing at the void deck? At three in the morning?”

When the lift door opened, she got in and said, “Auntie Ong said that this lift eats young girls at three in the morning.” She then laughed out loud and got into the lift. When she saw my unresponsive expression, she motioned me to get in and said seriously, “You’ll understand when you’re a mother.”

“Bloody hell.” I said softly and stepped into the lift.

After I had bathed and was ready to go to bed, my mother went out for work. Doesn’t she need to sleep? Why waste time waiting for me?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the day when my mother was discharged, I went to the hospital to pick her up.

Terry did not drive to work that day; hence, I was free to use the car. When I reached the ward, my mother had already finished packing. She was holding a small bag and the framed superheroes drawing that I had drawn for her. We exchanged greetings and then I went to settle the bill.

According to Doctor Tee, my mother had requested for a hospice homecare service instead of an in-patient service. She will be able to stay at home while she receives palliative treatment. The staff from a hospice will come regularly to monitor her condition and provide drug prescriptions. They will not be administering curative treatments to her; instead, they will be administering treatments that will manage her pain and slow down the onset of the disease.

I had read more about hospice and realized that they also provide one more service: to assist the patient to accept the notion of death and to provide the best end-of-life care. I remember one of the slogans of hospice that really makes sense: “When we are unable to add days to life, we try to add life to days”.

My mother treated all this like some sort of routine. “I told them that I wanted to die at home.” she said to me. “And so, they said they would respect my wishes. They will send doctors, nurses and volunteers regularly to take care of me. Basically, they send idiots, idiots and more idiots. When I am going to die, they will allow me to go peacefully.”

When we had settled the bill, I fetched her home in Terry’s WRX. My mother was thrilled by the sporty blue car. She said the engine sounded really good and loud. She then asked me to drive faster.

“Are you sure?” I asked. I had always love speed and my mother had always hated that.

“Go on.”

I upped my gear and stepped on the accelerator harder.

“Cool, ah girl. Cool.”

I was lost for words.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I reached my mother’s apartment, the first thing that caught my eyes was a crescent-shaped mirror hanging beside the main door.

The hospice doctor and nurses came at around two. At first, they checked on the condition of my mother and, then, prescribed some medication for her that would stop her pain. I waited at the living room, trying to eavesdrop on what they were talking about. When I heard laughter in the room, I peeked in. My mother was showing the nurses and the doctor the superheroes drawing.

“It’s called Daredevil.” the doctor said to my mother.

“Oh? I thought she designed a new superhero. She’s really talented, eh?” my mother said. The nurses, for no reason, laughed.

After a series of monitoring, they taught my mother how to walk without pain, and what number to call in case of an emergency. I was surprised to know that the emergency number was not 995.

I went back to the living room, switched on the television and waited. At around three, the doctor came out.

“Are you living with the patient?” the doctor asked me.

I shook my head.

“We’re administering palliative treatments to your mother.” the doctor explained. “We’re trying to control her pain instead of curing her.” He then went on to explain the medication that he had used and told me what to do, in case of an emergency.

An hour later, they made an appointment with my mother on the next visit and then went off. I was alone with my mother, again. When I got into her room, she had dozed off.

With nothing to do, I explored the apartment. This is the apartment that I had lived in for twenty-two years. The small television still sat neatly in front of the small sofa. The coffee-table was slacked with Chinese newspapers. I went to the room that I used to stay in and gasped.

There were no changes at all. The drawings that I had drawn when I was in Secondary school were still lining up on the wall. There was a total of eight drawings. There were models of two cars and a motorcycle standing on my table.

I went to the table and pulled out the drawer. There were more drawings, but they were not coloured. One of the drawings was an old woman with horns and scars and the words “I want a new mother”. I shook my head slightly and closed the drawer.

Then, I sat on the bed. There was no trace of dust at all; it was like during my two years of absence; my mother still cleaned this place regularly. The spring of the bed was still as bouncy as it used to be two years ago. I opened the wardrobe. When I left the house two years ago, I had taken every piece of clothing away. I jumped when I saw three uniforms and a torn Guess pink top hanging inside the wardrobe. One of them was my kindergarten uniform, the other one was my primary school uniform and the last one was my secondary school uniform. They were all ironed nicely. There was a tag on every uniform: “Elle Ah Girl: 5 - 6”, “Elle Ah Girl: 7 - 12” and “Elle Ah Girl: 13 – 17”. The last pink top was labelled with the words “Elle Ah Girl: 18 – ”

I stood back and continued to explore the room. Then, I laid down on the bed. For twenty-two years, I had slept on this bed, almost every night. When I closed my eyes, memories of my life started to flow back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I was fifteen, my mother increased my daily allowance to three dollars and fifty cents a day.

That was still not enough. I would go clubbing every fortnight and it was embarrassing to have only ten bucks in my wallet. Sometimes, some guys would treat me to a drink. I would accept and, then, when they requested for my phone number, I gave them Joyce’s number. Joyce was one of my nemeses in school and I hated her to the core. She had to be one of the fattest human beings in the world.

I had a fling with one of the guys in the club. His name is John. All we did was to hold hands. He smoked and rode a sports bike, which I thought was cool. I did not dare sit on his bike, but whenever I saw him riding, I was immersed by his coolness.

We broke off two weeks later when I refused to let him kiss my lips. I, then, started to tell my friends that I had just dumped a guy who smoked and rode. The enviousness in their eyes was priceless.

“Why do I smell smoke on your top?” one of the weekend evenings, my mother asked me. She, then, shoved a top to me.

The top was pink and branded. I held it close to my nose and inhaled. It did reek of cigarette smoke. It must be John’s smoke. “My friend smoked. I didn’t.”

“Stay away from those idiots, I’m telling you.” My mother glared at me and snatched the top from me. The top nearly tore. “You hear me? Stay away from those idiots. I want you to be home by eight every night, from now on. You understand?”

I grasped the top from her and examined it for tears. This top was an expensive gift from Teresa and, according to my other friend, Clare, it costs over fifty dollars!

“You hear me?” my mother shouted.

I did not care about her shouting. I continued to comb for any tears in my top. She would have to pay me fifty dollars if I find any tears!

“Ah girl!” my mother grabbed the top from me. I did not let go. We struggled and when I heard some tearing sound, I released my grip. My mother stepped back and nearly lost her footing. There was a tear at the shoulder of the top.

“Mama, you spoil my top! I want you to pay!”

My mother tossed the top away. It landed on the floor. “I want you to stay away from-”

“You only give me three dollars and fifty cents a day and you want to control me?”

My mother glared at me wordlessly.

“My friends’ mothers gave them one hundred dollars a week! Twenty dollars a day! And, they gave them freedom-”

“Don’t compare those idiots with you! Don’t compare those idiots with me! We’re all different! You and I!”

“You’re not fit to be a mother! Go serve coffee! Go! You earn what? A thousand a month? Teresa’s mother earned eight thousand a month! You lazy bum!” I turned off and walked towards my room in big steps.

“Stop right there!”

I hesitated. She might be increasing my allowance. I halted and waited.

“Why will you need more money? Huh? Listen well. I earn a thousand dollars a month. One hundred goes to the bills. One hundred goes to your insurance. One hundred goes to the household expenses. Four hundred for the housing loan to HDB. One hundred for you. One hundred for our transport and other things. You see? You get one hundred dollars every month just for your lunch. I, myself, get one hundred dollars every month for my breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

I shook my head. She was not going to increase my allowance. I snored, “You’d better give me fifty dollars tomorrow for tearing my branded top. If not…” I thought for a while. “I’ll move out.” I said, went into my room and slammed the door. The door nearly broke.

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