4
Derrick Wong Ming Lun

I was ten years old, when I first saw the word “Justince”. It was a word for my spelling test. My teacher, Mrs. Yeo, began by telling us the meaning of the word via a dictionary. I can still remember the dictionary: It was an “Oxford School Dictionary”, with a blue cover and a yellowed Kinokunyia Bookstore price tag of $28.30 at the back.

“Justice: J-U-S-T-I-C-E. It is defined as being just; fair treatment. Let me repeat the spelling again: J-U-S-T-I-C-E…”

I wrote down the word and then the meaning beside the word. When Mrs. Yeo had finished her presentation and walked past me, I hissed to her. “Mrs. Yeo, justince is being just, fair treatment. So, I don’t have justince?” Mrs. Yeo was loss for words. I then continued, “Because my brather allways gets the best pencil cases, and I get the old ones. My brather allways gets the best t-shirts, I get the lousy ones. So, there’s no justince in my family?”

To me, it was just a routine comment. I had gotten used to the unfair treatment. I could still remember her eyes: She looked determinated, like a competitive runner warming up for her sprint.

But, just like the others, she did nothing.

Later she gave birth to his brother Abel. Now Abel kept flocks, and Cain worked the soil.
Genesis 4:2

Qiu Yi had said she was going to a class gathering and did not want me to tag along, as it was supposed to be some kind of “ladies’ night”. The moment she left, I plugged in the 3mP Player and capped my ears with earphones. When Eric’s voice rang into my ears, I tried to discard the memories that it dredged up, focusing on the words.

“She’s still not here…” his voice begun. I had listened to this recording for over fifty times, yet each time, I found nothing new. In the recording, Eric’s voice was choky, as if he was giving a speech in a crowded hall.

“I made a mistake. It’s not something that I should do and it’s something that I’m ashamed of. I… I lost my mind. I don’t know what happened to me. How could I do this? How could something like this happen?

“I know I can blame no one but myself. I brought this shit upon myself. I bring all these… fucking things upon me. What can I do, other than this?

“I made a mistake and I have to bear the fucking responsibilities. Argh, what the hell.”

That was when the recording paused. Then, it started again with his same lazy voice and the background –

“Should there be any…”

Background? I replayed the recording back to the previous part before the pause. Then, I switched to the later part, after the pause.

My sotfware, a programme that could amplify sounds with dashboards of sound equalizer, showed that the background noise, before and after the pause, was different.

(you didn’t make the recording at home. i should have known it! … good, good. i’ll finish the race for you.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I started to research on background noise. Ten minutes later, I almost wanted to give up, for I hated reading; but Eric’s image spurred me. I completed my research after three hours.
The typical bedroom or living room in our HDB flat has a noise level of about 35 decibels. However, according to my sound programme, the background noise level of the recording is 60 decibels. I had allways thought that the recording had been made when he was at home. But now, it is proven otherwise
.
I was scratching my head when I tried to explore the different features of the digital audio editor sotfware. There must be a way to increase the sound of the background and to delete the voice; just like thoes karaoke music videos.

“What... no… drunk. Cannot… full. Where…” Thoes were the sotf background words spoken by a male voice. I realized I was able to hear breifly what was in the background if I had increased the volume to near maximum. The sound of gushing air was loud, dissolving most of the words in the background. I replayed the whole recording and listened hard for any important words in the background that might provide a link to his whereabouts during the recording.

“I don’t really know if I should tell Anna or not. I mean, I mean, it’s… this is shit.”

I paused the recording. Between the words “it’s” and “this”, someone was shouting in the background. Although it was very sotf and barely detectable, I replayed the part again.

“it’s…”

Someone’s voice in the background: “I’m at Timbre! You hear…”

“…this...”

The next word was covered by Eric’s voice again. I rewound and played again.

“I’m at Timbre! You hear…”

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