Book Club Discussion: Questions on Rice, Fish, Squid and Lamb

I received some requests for a list of questions book club participants can use for their discussion of my first book.  I thought I'd share my short list with everyone.

1.  Why do you think the main character, L. Liz Johann is called various names throughout the book?
2.  Tuti, Sarah's sister, knows Adam even before he marries Sarah.  What's your speculation on the past link between Tuti and Adam?
3.  Why doesn't Tuti prevent the marriage of her sister to Adam from happening?
4.  Adam tells Liz a few things as she sleeps in a cafe.   What do you think those are?
5.  Liz meets an unfamiliar boy at her cousins' place when she was five.  Is the boy Adam or Jay?  Why?
6.  Did the encounter between Liz and Adam on the flight to Taipei happen?  Why?
7.  Do you think Liz has an affair with Tim even though she's married to Jay and what are the reasons?
8.  Adam emails Liz he can no longer be a part of her life because of his mother.  Is he lying?  What are your arguments for and against this?
9.  Toward the end of the story, Liz mentions to Jay she doesn't want another glass of wine Jay's going to get her after she accidentally spills her glass.  What do you think she wants instead of the drink?
10. Give a few examples of the lies Adam tells Liz.
11.  Liz asks Lila, her sister to find out the truth behind Jay's claim that he didn't have anything going on with Liz's friend from prep, Roza.  Could Lila not be telling Liz the truth even though Liz's description of Lila tells us the younger sister is a very thorough person in doing any analysis?  What makes you think so?
12.  Lila is very skeptical on Adam right from the start.  Why do you think that is the case?
13.  Give examples of inconsistencies in Adam's point of view and Liz's accounts.

I'd be happy to provide more questions if there are requests for them.

Chapter 15 from Blind, Deaf...Part III

Find out what happens to Amelia at tea in the final part of Chapter 15.

Chocolate cup cakes with cream, chocolate sprinkles and maraschino cherry.  Decadent!

Chapter 15

Tok Min’s Favorite Grandchild

Soon, the adults moved to other things.  I tackled my last cup cake.  There was a ritual in the way I ate each cake.  First, I peeled off the paper cup.  I take a tiny bite from the side of the cake.  Slowly, I worked my way counter clockwise.  The best - always the middle part - I saved for last.  It was my favorite for it had the maraschino cherry on top of cream and rainbow colored chocolate sprinkles.  

Midway way through my final cake, the adults began a new discussion.  To my dismay, the topic was what they wanted their children to be one day.  Dijah announced she'd be a manager way before her parents shared their views.  Her candidness made the adults laugh.  Auntie Wong suspected Ruo Li would work with computers; lately he had been bothering her to buy one.  She had no clue what her Jian Fei would become.  Yet, she confessed she prayed hard daily he wouldn't turn into a sumo wrestler.  Laughter filled the room.  Ah Fei, ignoring everything, watched the ceiling.  His mother was curious on my parents' wish for me.  I cringed.  Papa informed everybody he and Ibu saw me being a lawyer.  The cupcake I was eating suddenly tasted bitter.  My parents, Papa boldly claimed, were convinced I could become one.  However, Papa complained, I read too many fairy tales.  I completely shut out the remaining conversation.  The last mouthful of cake, I swallowed fast.  This was followed by a greedy gulp of my tea.  It was hot it burned the insides of my mouth.  Later that night, my mouth still felt raw, not because of being scalded, but of anger.  After the cake and tea, I hoped hard I was able to keep everything down.  I didn't want Tok Min to get the wrong idea if I suddenly vomited at the table.  A lawyer was the last thing I’d ever be!  Tok Min saw through my unhappiness.

'Oh,' she laughed and interrupted the conversation.  'Amelia will get what she wants.  She'll marry her Prince Charming and they'll live a happy ever after.'

Ibu shook her head.  Papa stared at his mother in disbelief.  Then he politely asked Tok Min not to give me funny ideas.  He told everyone again I'd grow up to be a lawyer.  Ibu briskly nodded in agreement.  My parents had made the decision for me, as if it were the only job I’d do after university.  I remained quiet, seething in discontent.  Underneath the table, my hands fisted.  I held back angry tears.  All I did to calm myself was stared blindly at my empty plate.  The little flower prints dotting the border became blurred.  I knew tears were welling and I knew I had to do something.  Fast.  I started a new tale.  Once upon a time in the future, I'd be grown up.  My Prince Charming would find me.  I didn't want him to be tall, dark and handsome.  I might end up with D.J. Dave who sang beautiful Malay songs even though he was Indian.  The singer definitely wasn't my type.  My prince would be tall, fair and handsome.  Someone like...Then Papa called my name.

I looked up.  ‘Yes, Papa.’

‘Auntie Wong has asked you a question. ’

‘Oh.’  I turned to a smiling Auntie Wong.  ‘Sorry, Auntie.  I didn’t catch your question.’

Auntie Wong spoke again, accompanied by her signs.  ‘We were wondering whether you’d like to join my boys when they go fishing by the stream.  They’ll bring books for you to read.  Your parents believe you should have a more diverse selection.’

‘Books?’  I repeated, all puzzled.  What funny arrangement my parents had agreed with Ruo Li and Ah Fei's mother!

‘Not text books aaa,’ Ah Fei offered, his hand moving swiftly for Ruo Li’s knowledge.

‘We have many good story books at home.  Your parents mentioned you’re still reading fairy tales and it’s time you graduated to other kinds of books,’ Auntie Wong assured me.  ‘Perhaps you would want to drop by our house first, check out the books and borrow a few?’

‘Come, come to our house,’ Ah Fei interjected excitedly as his hand signs became wilder. ‘We have many books, Amelia.  I can lend you all my Al-chies.’

Suddenly Ruo Li shook his head.  ‘Archie’s not a book.  It’s a comic.’

Ah Fei sourly confronted his brother, his voice stern.  ‘Eh, comic is stoly book aaa.  Stoly book with pictures one.  And definitely not a fail-ly tale!’

‘Jian Fei…’ said his mother.  Her tone obviously warned her son he shouldn’t start a verbal quarrel with Ruo Li.  

Ah Fei paid a sidelong glance at her.  A sheepish grin followed and he swiftly reverted to me.  ‘Amelia!  Come aaa.  We have a nice lib-lal-ly at home.  Sure you like one.  So many books.  Big, sholt, fat, tall, sad, happy, sour!  Better than your school lib-lal-ly, and my clappy school lib-lal–’

‘Jian Fei!’ came a stinging cry from Auntie Wong for his inappropriate word choice.

‘Eh, solly.  The polite term is dleadful.  Our lib-lal-ly is better than my dleadful school lib-lal-ly.  I can gua-lan-tee one.’  His mother seemed appalled.  I didn’t know any better at that stage why she looked so.  Much later, Ah Fei proudly shared with me his sign read ‘shitty’ although he uttered ‘dreadful.’ I saw Ruo Li shaking his head in disapproval.  He was perhaps thinking the prospect of his brother being reformed to a mannered person was a complete lost cause.

Wordless, I blinked for seconds.  I didn’t know how to respond to Ah Fei. 

As usual, one of my parents, this time, Papa, made the decision for me.  ‘Amelia, you’ll go to Auntie Wong’s place next Saturday, OK?’  

My head bobbed up and down, twice. 

‘It’s important you retire from reading Grimms, Andersen and Perrault and move to something more substantial, such as the classics.  You should pick up Black Beauty, Anna Karenina, Robinson Crusoe, Wuthering Heights.’  

Slightly frowning, I slowly continued the nods as if the requests were in foreign language. I still didn't understand the meaning of substantial.  Sub-stan-tial.  It sounded like it came from Mars.  Or Jupiter.

‘Dijah will accompany you.’  

I abruptly stopped nodding and had an impulse to shake my head.  My lips curled down in disapproval.  There was nothing I could do though.  Dijah was grinning widely.

Uncle Halim suddenly remarked, ‘Oh!  I remember something.  We have to cut short our Saturday visits from next week onward.  Dijah has an extracurricular activity at her school, some leadership training for girl guides. She’s not going to be around to accompany Amelia.’ 

What a miracle!  Dijah immediately let out a dramatic sigh.  Uncle Halim reminded Dijah she was the one who insisted on signing up for the training.  My cousin glanced at me and lamented ‘Why oh why oh why?’  The adults were amused.  My face lit up with the return of my smile.  Dijah certainly would miss the opportunity to boss me around!   

‘Madam Wong,’ Papa addressed our elegant visitor.  ‘If you don’t mind, could your boys pick Amelia up from here and walk her to your house and back here?  If she feels like joining the boys before she heads home, she can do so.  Amelia can read the books by the stream while they fish.  We’re normally here Saturdays from noon until seven.  Amelia will be available say, around four o’clock.  We expect her return at six thirty, quarter to seven at latest.’

Our visitor seemed pleased.  ‘That’s a good plan, Encik Abas.  I’m positive my boys will be more than happy to show Amelia the way to our house and accompany her back.  Yes, if she’s up for it, she can join my boys near the stream.  I’ll pack some food for them so that they can have a picnic there.  I’ll make sure there’s no pork and no lard in the food.’  She turned to her sons.  ‘Right boys?’  I caught Tok Min giving me a mysterious smile, one I couldn't understand.  Not for many, many years to come.

Ruo Li gave a zesty yes.  But he asked his mother the reason behind the food restriction.  Auntie Wong explained to Ruo Li my family and I were Muslims and therefore didn’t take ham or pork.  Ruo Li nodded.  She focused on the other son, who was already eyeing the cupcakes again.  She wanted to know if he was OK with the arrangement.

Without removing his laser like attention from the cupcakes, stubby Jaws showed two thumbs up.  ‘Light on, Ma!’

*

Chapter 15 from Blind, Deaf...Part II

In the last installation, Dijah pestered Amelia as the latter sat at the family table for tea with three visitors - Madam Wong and her two sons.  Here's the second part of Chapter 15:

Steamed bun(pao) with sweet, red beans

Chapter 15

Tok Min’s Favorite Grandchild

I ignored my cousin’s teasings and focused on the spread for tea.  Tok Min made her heavenly cup cakes.  Some sardine rolls and tiny steamed buns filled with either sweet, mashed red beans or savory, curried potatoes were also there. The rolls and buns were made by my Auntie Biba.  She was my dad’s and Uncle Halim’s middle aged sister.  A spinster, she lived with Tok Min and tended the house.  Ibu asked me to eat.  I spied Dijah pretending to focus on her cup cakes while keeping watch on us youngsters.  I picked up two of the four remaining cup cakes from the serving dish.  They alighted on my plate. Ah Fei was smiling stiffly at me when I faced left.  He fought to contain his enthusiasm, careful not to bare his teeth following my earlier reaction.

Sardine rolls

I pitched a little toward him.  Like an enthusiastic puppy, he hopped in his seat.  Then he swung his fat legs underneath the table.  I half expected him to slobber on my face if I got too close.  I thus kept a safe distance from him.  ‘Nice wires…’ I whispered, ‘like Jaws’ teeth.’  He instantly stopped moving, made a pout, sulked on my joke.  I caught Ruo Li watching me.  My lips broke into a tiny smile.  When it stretched, the tall boy smiled to me likewise, warming my heart.  To my surprise, he started blushing.   Ah Fei, pouting still, shuttled his gaze between his brother and me.  Along the way, he frowned.  A little later, conscious his brother was paying too much attention to us, Ruo Li tore his attention away from me.  I suspected some of the adults might have caught him with the reddened cheeks.  However, when I studied them, they were glued to the conversation between Auntie Wong and Tok Min.  Only Dijah, grinning mischievously, gave me a wink.  Unwilling of giving her ideas on anything between Ruo Li and me, I decided to throw her off track.  Thus, I quickly smiled at Ah Fei’s plate.  It was the logical thing to do.  On his plate sat eight empty paper cake cups, playfully arranged: one each for the eyes, two for the nose, and four for the crescent mouth.  I spied Ruo Li’s plate.  It had only three cups. They were in a line, straight and glum.  I gazed at the fat boy.  Ah Fei was longingly eyeing the remaining cup cakes.  He smacked his lips a couple of times. 

My father called him from across the table. ‘Take some more cup cakes if you want.  Don’t be shy, Jian Fei.  Auntie Biba will come by with more cakes.’

Ah Fei gazed at Encik Abas – Mister Abas as Auntie Wong politely addressed him – and smiled goofily.  Auntie Wong let out another dainty laugh and began weaving signs with her hands.  ‘My Jian Fei is never shy when it comes to food, Encik Abas.  He writes every year in his class report that food is his favorite thing, his hobby is eating and when he grows up, he wants to be a professional eater.  I have no clue what a professional eater is but I hope in the future, my Jian Fei won’t resemble a sumo wrestler.  He’s however eating less than normal today.  Usually it’s at least sixteen cup cakes at one go.  In the past, whenever Biba brought in more cup cakes, he’d finish them all.  He’s unfortunately hurting from his braces.  That’s why he’s a bit restrained.  I believe it’s a blessing for all.  Otherwise, he’d clean up the cup cakes and leave none for Dijah and Amelia.’

The adults and Dijah laughed.  I shook my head in amazement and glanced at Ruo Li.  He, smiling, met my glance and shrugged.  I next regarded Ah Fei.  He pitched to his right and muttered to me, strangely in a Godfather voice:  ‘See!  I’m not eating much because I’m very mindful of Dijah and you today.  What a good visitor I am!’

‘Poor boy,’ commented Ibu as she tried to glimpse his braces from across the table.

Dijah caught Auntie Wong’s attention.  ‘Why does he need to have his whole teeth fixed, Auntie?’ 

The boys' mother formed more signs for Ruo Li.  ‘Everything was out of alignment, Dijah.  Jian Fei has a very bad bite.  I believe it’s the reason he can’t pronounce some words properly.  Ruo Li however begs to differ from me.  In his view, his brother is simply being plain lazy.  Jian Fei says ‘I eat lice’ instead of ‘I eat rice’.’ Dijah laughed exuberantly.  The adults simply smiled. 

Auntie Wong sighed.  ‘He muddles his pronunciation on certain words, too.  Mother becomes mudder, brother becomes bludder, birthday is bird day to him.  Fortunately, he pronounces his brother’s name correctly.  Therefore, there must be some truth to what Ruo Li claims.  In any case, I feel it’s ideal to have Jian Fei’s teeth fixed as soon as possible.  I was having a difficult time getting him to visit the dentist.  He’s terrified of dentists. Ruo Li and I have to hold each of his hands as we wait for his regular checkup.  Jian Fei screams and cries, even before the dentist enters the clinic.’

The adults, amused, laughed.  Dijah chuckled shrilly at the latest news.  Ruo Li smiled.  Ah Fei was examining the ceiling.  At first I thought Ah Fei found something interesting there.  I gradually understood he was pretending to be deaf to his mother's words.

‘Auntie,’ said Dijah after her chuckles ended.  ‘What happens when the dentist arrives?’

‘Dr. Goh fortunately has been taking care of Jian Fei ever since my son was very small.  Therefore he’s very familiar with Jian Fei’s behavior.  Jian Fei normally continues on with his act, shrieking he’s scared of needles, until the dentist reminds him he’ll get his lollipop at the end of the checkup only if he keeps quiet.  That usually does the trick.  However, these past years, Jian Fei has been demanding two lollipops per visit.  He strictly insists on Chupa Chups, not the ordinary lollipops you normally find at the sundry store.’  Auntie Wong shook her head a few times, while her audience laughed.  

I followed her reaction as I studied Ah Fei.  He beamed smugly at me.  Leaning to me, he muttered again, his voice a deep growl: ‘See! I’m smart one!  Not mental or retarded aaa!  No more generic lollipops for me!  I’ve gone up market!  Only branded lollipops will do.’

Right after he leaned back, I pitched to my left and whispered, ‘What’s with you?  Are you the latest recruit by Cosa Nostra?’  Ah Fei, exposing his wire works, grinned at me.

‘This recent trip to get the braces on was a hard one to set up,’ Auntie Wong lamented. ‘I tried many different tricks, since six months ago, to get him to agree to have his teeth fixed.  Thankfully, he said OK when I told him he couldn’t visit your grandma’s house anymore unless he gets the braces on.  It was Ruo Li’s idea on the deal.’

Ah Fei quickly twisted his body to confront Ruo Li, his chubby hands on his broad waist.  I assumed the fat boy was mad at his brother for devising the plan.  Although Ruo Li was facing his twin, he remained cool.  Ruo Li stole a glance at me, gifting me an appreciative smile.  I instantly remembered my invitation to the boys the previous week.

Auntie Wong resumed her story after a sip of tea.  ‘Jian Fei loves your grandma’s cup cakes, Dijah.  They’re very soft and delicious.  I guess they are good enough to get Jian Fei’s braces on.’

Tok Min patted Auntie Wong’s left arm for attention.  She thanked her guest in English for the compliment.  I mused again.  As far as I recalled, with her Chinese and Indian neighbors, Tok Min normally conversed in Bahasa.  How odd my usual mode of conversation with my grandma was extended to a larger group that day!  The exchange in English had always been something sacred between her and me.  The arrangement never applied to other members of our family or visitors I could think of.  Perhaps it was because I was special to her.  'Amelia.  Never forget you're my favorite grandchild,' she said a few times so that I'd always remember.  I figured Auntie Wong and her sons therefore must be very special visitors to Tok Min.

I concentrated on my tea for the next few minutes.  Auntie Biba came to the dining room to feed us more cup cakes.  Ah Fei hungrily watched them.  I sensed pain prevented him from going for seconds.  I too caught Ruo Li peering at me a few times.  The moment I stared him back a bit too long, he shyly reverted his focus on the tea treats.  There and then I knew:  Ruo Li had a crush on me. 

My secret find made me dreamy.  The adults kept talking.  I was left behind to build sandcastles in my head.  In my fairy tale, Ruo Li would be prince for his mother was queen.  One day he'd come to rescue me from trouble.  Yet, that time was so distant I had no idea what the nature of the problem was.  Most likely, it would be something an adult had to solve.  Not like my hard math homework.  Or the endless essays I had to write for school.  I remained distracted by my tale.  Only when Madam Wong complained of her twins, I started to take note.  What bothered her most was they devised their own short cuts on alternatives to the word ‘stupid’.  Those were homesigns, unique to the boys, Greek to their mother.  Poor Auntie Wong therefore sometimes couldn’t keep track of the insults traded by her boys.  Especially when they had heated debates, she could easily find herself losing track of the names her sons bandied about.  While amused by the news, I paid attention to a couple more cupcakes I'd just lifted from the serving dish.  

James Bond and Pontianak at Tea...

...In other words, a chapter from my second manuscript, Blind, Deaf.  I'm going to change the game a bit.  Instead of showcasing consecutive chapters after chapter 4 , I'll be posting a random chapter.  The one I just picked happens to be a favorite of mine.  Why?  Three reasons: it gives an angle why Amelia is a feisty girl.  Second, the setting for this chapter is modeled after my late grandma's house.  The structure still stands on Jalan Tengku Puteri, Straits View, Johor Bahru.  It holds many happy memories for me and I hope the kids who attend the Montessori School there are fond of the place.  Third, weird as it may seem but I have James Bond and Pontianak thrown in for tea. (Read on, OK?)

Chapter 15 is long and I've broken it into three segments.  I'll be updating my blog in the next few days with parts two and three.  In the meantime, here's the first part - the world according to the young Amelia...

Ylang ylang flowers.  My grandma, Tok Wan Tik, used to have such plant at her house.  She used the flowers to perfume her sanggul(Malay version of a chignon).

Chapter 15

Tok Min’s Favorite Grandchild

I wasn’t expecting company when we returned to Tok Min’s house one afternoon.  At the entrance, beside Dijah’s creaky bike – a hand-me-down from our aunt – I spotted some clues: a pair of size 6 cream colored court shoes and two pairs of sandals of different sizes.  I wondered who their owners were.  Dijah and I slipped off our flipflops at the stoop.  One must remove shoes prior to entering any Malay home.  It’s a standing culture preventing kids from soiling the floor with the muck they picked up outside.  Dijah and I let ourselves into our grandma's place.  The front door was always left unlocked for our return.  Entering straight into the carpeted living area, we found nobody there. Yet, strains of an unfamiliar voice floated from the dining room.

‘Visitor!’  Dijah stated excitedly.  I knew what that meant.  One, Dijah didn't see those shoes.  Two, good stuff for tea!

Full of curiosity, I turned to my cousin.  ‘Are we expecting company, Sis Dijah?’ 

She shrugged.  ‘Let’s head to the dining room and say hello to the visitor.’

‘I wonder who they are.'  Dijah appeared confused and I told her about the shoes.  'I guess there’s one woman and perhaps two other persons,’ I added.

‘Tok Min’s friends, perhaps?’  Dijah suggested. 

‘Maybe.’

Dijah enthusiastically grabbed my left hand.  ‘Come on slow poke, let’s go now before we miss all the good food.’

‘You go right ahead.  I need to freshen up and I’ll meet you there.’

Dijah puckered in dismay.  ‘But you have to come with me.  Uncle Abas specifically made me promise not to let you out of my sight.’

‘Only when we’re taking a walk, Sis Dijah.  We’re at grandma’s now, so babysitting me here doesn’t count, Miss Kaypoh.’

Dijah released my hand.  She flung me a glare.  Kaypoh – busybody – wasn't her favorite nickname.  The diva, unhappy of a missed opportunity to manage me, stomped her way to the dining room. I went the opposite direction, to Tok Min’s room, and entered her bathroom.  The afternoon walk around Straits View with my cousin had made me sweat a bit.  I splashed some water on my face.  A thin layer of dust on my skin was washed away.  I dabbed my wet face dry with a towel.  Next, I padded to my grandma’s vanity table to check out my reflection in the mirror.  My hair was untidy.  I picked up Tok Min’s hair brush and began dealing with my long tresses.  Tok Min sometimes would brush my hair if it was out of place.  She always advised me, in English, contrary to what people her age would prefer to converse in, to look presentable.  She reminded her favorite grandchild a lady shouldn't have her hair flying around.  Tok Min didn't want me to look like a Pontianak – the local female vampire who, besides sucking her victim’s blood, is infamous for her long and very messy hair. 

‘But I’m not a lady yet, Tok Min,’ came my standard refrain to Tok Min’s opinion.

‘One day you’ll be.  When the time comes, you’ll be thankful you look well brought up for your Prince Charming.’  Tok Min let out a small chortle.  ‘You were always wishing for your own Prince Charming from the moment you first read your fairy tale.’

‘It’ll come true, right Tok Min?  Someday, right?’

‘Child, if you believe hard enough, it’ll come true.   In the meantime Amelia, you have no excuse to appear like a Pontianak,’ responded Tok Min as she straightened my unruly hair.

Remembering the usual exchange between me and my grandma always made me content.  Once satisfied with my reflection, I set the brush back in place.  About to leave the room, I caught the porcelain bowl on her vanity table. I picked the bowl up.  Ylang ylang flowers – some yellow, some wilted to a dark brown – and small bits of bark from a cinnamon tree resided in it.  The mixture was steeped in coconut oil.  I closed my eyes prior to inhaling the scent. A smile appeared on my lips before I opened my eyes.  I thought how amazing it was to have a grandma who loved to make her own perfume. She would dab a bit of the oil on her skin every morning.  I could picture her as she did it.  Dabs behind her ears.  A touch on the back of each wrist.  A light caress on every ankle.  A wonderful trail of sweetness followed her everywhere. 

After placing the bowl where it belonged, I headed to the dining area.  When I entered the room, there were already nine people there. Tok Min occupied the seat at the head of the teak, dining table.  How strange, I thought.  She had changed into a kebaya.  When my family arrived at her house hours ago, she was in a plain long tunic and batik sarong.  Uncle Halim – Dijah’s father, my father, my mother, Auntie Mas – Dijah’s mother and Dijah were seated facing me.  The remainders were three visitors whose backs were toward me.  Tok Min was the first to spot my arrival.  To my wonderment, she proudly announced in English to everyone: ‘She is here.’  Tok Min beckoned me to her side.  As I ambled to the table, I thought the boys – one tall and thin, the other short and stumpy – beside the lady visitor seemed familiar.

Once close enough to Tok Min’s side, one of the visitors’ faces came into my view.  Next to my grandma sat a cheongsam-clad woman.  Her hair was done up in a bun.  Her facial features were elegant.  She carried herself well.   She wasn’t too fat nor too thin, too short nor too tall.  She was just right, like the porridge Goldilocks took from the bears.  She gave me a kindly smile.  I thought she wouldn’t simply be called attractive.  In my fairy tale, she was a queen – beautiful, gentle but marred by a scar.  The flaw, from the corner of her left eye to the edge of her left cheek, was carefully hidden by a hint of makeup.  On first sight, I knew the source of Ruo Li’s good looks.  And his large eyes were unmistakably from his mother. The way the woman carried herself – noble and full of good breeding – reminded me of the lovely, poised Chinese models in their tailored cheongsams and beautiful parasols in the vintage Chinese calendars.

Tok Min called me.  ‘Say hello to Auntie Wong.’  

I dutifully obeyed Tok Min.  How odd, I mused, that my grandma talked in English in front of a large group.  I studied how remarkable the smiling lady visitor was.   I couldn’t glimpse the boys’ faces as the boys were hidden by her right side.

Auntie Wong gushed, ‘So this is Amelia.’  She turned to my parents. ‘What a pretty girl you have here!’  My parents expressed their appreciation for her remark.  Ibu, my mother, responded in kind, complimenting Auntie Wong her sons were very well behaved.  Auntie Wong seemed a bit embarrassed and daintily laughed.  ‘Only when they are visitors or when we have visitors at home,’ she said.  The Chinese lady focused her attention to me.  ‘You surely know my two boys…Ruo Li.’  The lady nudged her son and briefly made hand signs to her son.  As she explained to all Ruo Li was the elder of her sons, he poked his head out from the lady’s right side and smiled his hello to me.  I returned the same token to him.  Auntie Wong soon mentioned Ah Fei’s name.  Still, the other boy didn’t show himself to me.  He was hiding behind Ruo Li.  When the tall boy leaned in closer to the table to allow his brother to come into my view, the rascal leaned in, too.  He was acting as if he were Ruo Li’s shadow.  Perhaps he was pretending to play hide and seek with me.

‘Jian Fei… Jian Fei, say hello to Amelia...Jian Fei!’ 

The last call – a scolding – stopped his tomfoolery.  He leaned in and exposed his pearly whites to me in a quick grin.  ‘Woi!’ he blurted.  My jaw dropped on taking in his new orthodontic work.  Remembering my manners, I quickly covered my mouth with both hands.  I couldn’t help giggling; Ah Fei and his braces reminded me of the villain with steel teeth in one of James Bond’s movies.  Catching my reaction, he skulked back into his seat. 

Tok Min asked me to occupy the empty spot beside my annoyed friend.  I assumed the seat.   Auntie Mas from across the table motioned for my empty teacup.  I slid it and its saucer to her.  My aunt poured tea into the cup and handed everything back to me.  Dijah caught my attention with her fake coughs.  The moment we locked gazes, Dijah slyly grinned then pouted toward the boys while still eyeing her cousin.  How irritating she could be!

Chapter 4 from Blind, Deaf

It's back to the perspective of one of the adults.  This time, the grownup Amelia continues her observation on the Asian guy who claims he knows her very well.

Chapter 4

Amelia

‘You really don’t remember who I am, right, Amelia?’ the tall Asian queries.  

I hear him stressing the r in ‘really’, 'remember' and ‘right’.  He almost rolls them.  I wonder what the emphasis is for.  Refraining from looking at him as I study the poinsettia, I shake my head.  The guy and I are the only ones at the checkout counter.  I’m all schizo; this hasn’t hit me since I first saw a poster of hunky Tom Cruise for Top Gun which left me swooning. 

Chad left us a while ago to fetch something for one of the begonia ladies.  I nearly begged him to stay.  Chad, picking up the need in my facial expression, promised to attend to me shortly. 

My mind’s in overdrive now.  It’s racing through possibilities of who the Asian guy is.  I should have remembered well anyone as attractive as him.  His look is very put together yet casual.  He's tall and masculine.  His nicely toned upper arms beg for attention from underneath his camel colored pullover.  He's sporting blue jeans.  A stand out among the crowd, I conclude.   He’s undoubtedly not super handsome.  However, there’s something about him warranting a double take.  Perhaps he exudes charisma.  Perhaps it’s the way he carries himself: not cocky, but all self-assured.  Perhaps it’s just a simple fact as pheromone.  There, that’s it, I inwardly decide, he has too much pheromone.  And I’d better not try to get entangled in any way with him, because I haven’t got laid for, hey!  Good lord!  Why am I thinking all this?

He interrupts my train of thoughts.  ‘Why are you blushing?’

The question reddens me more.  I quickly feel my face around with both hands.  My skin’s incriminatingly warm.  I view the guy in a rather awkward way.  ‘Umm, you won’t believe this…but…I recall I had…an embarrassing incident the last time someone asked me if I remembered him.’

‘Oh?  Is that so?  Care to share with me?’  Eyebrows arched, he certainly seems curious.

I turn somber and fold my arms.  ‘Mister, the incident was too embarrassing to be shared with anyone.  So, please don’t egg me on for it.’

‘Amelia honey!’  Chad interrupts me as he saunters behind the cashier counter. ‘Sorry to keep ya waiting, honey.  Ya ready on that?’ 

I viewed him gratefully.  ‘Just a sec, Chad.  Can I get one of those tiny cards with the ribbons behind you?’  I point to the group of white and red striped message cards.  Chad picks one and hands it to me.

‘Thanks Chad.  Ring this up too and I’m all set.’ 

‘Nope.  This is on the house.  Ya give us good business.  Ya’ve been here, what is it, five days in a row?’

I smile at him.  ‘Oh come on, Chad.  Those trips don’t count.  I was here due to the special purchases for work.  This plant however is a personal gift.  Ring it up, will you?’

‘Nah, honey.   It’s free.’  Chad pushes the cashier open and heaves it shut to illustrate his point.  He’s a sweetie, as usual.  I gracefully thank him before he leaves to tend to a middle aged couple.  I fish for a pen from my pocket book, open the card and start writing on it.  The bean pole watches me as my words form:

Olivia,

I hope you’ll like this.

                                    Love,

As I write, I suddenly recall To Kill A Mockingbird.  I’m brought back to my favorite character, Scout, in the story.  So full of innocence, I muse.  And I remember Atticus.  Who would have thought? I silently whisper to myself as I sign my name at the end of my note.  I close the card, store the pen and busy myself tying the ribbon on one of the poinsettia stems.  The bean pole stands sentinel beside me.

‘So, you’re totally clueless on who I am,’ the tall guy states.

I stretch my silence, not wanting to meet his penetrating watch.   My mind’s stark blank.  Try as I might, I can’t seem to figure out who he is.  I’m usually good at this sort of thing: remembering past clients, even though they’ve aged through time.  And I’m disappointed with myself for being unable to identify this attractive man.  Foremost, the way he approached me is bothering me.  It’s not the kind which ticks me off, though.  I scoop up the pot of poinsettia and head toward the flower shop entrance.  My mind speeds through all the possibilities again. 

Now, where can I begin?  I wonder.  Yes, Alistair… Alistair Wong whom I encountered in Zurich has light brown eyes.  Nonetheless, I’m pretty certain this guy’s are dark brown, just like mine.  Besides, Alistair’s eyes are smaller than this man’s.  And don’t forget another point: Alistair speaks with a lisp.  He stuttered every time he met me.  Yes, he had a crush on me.  And Alistair isn’t handsome to begin with.  He needs a plastic surgery and has to go on a diet to get half as good looking as this guy.  God!  My stalker can be mistaken for a model!   I shake my head.  Alistair’s off my list of suspects. 

Speaking of models, could he be Naquib Ebrahim whom I met in Paris?   Nope, he’s too fair to be Naquib, a half French half Moroccan sports enthusiast.  Yes, Naquib used to model part time for a few fitness magazines.   And he used to go around with a good tan.  Yet this guy appears like he hasn’t seen the sun for weeks.  And darn it, Naquib was vain.  He couldn’t help pausing to stare at his reflection on any glossy surface.  He and glossy surfaces are inseparable.  I won’t be surprised he stays that way.  I can’t imagine Naquib leaving home without a tan.  And his sunglasses, damn, he’s vain.  This guy however hasn’t even stopped for a second to check out his reflection in this flower shop.  Naquib is definitely out of the question.  I glance over my shoulder.  The guy has picked up a nice leather jacket from behind the cashier counter.  Now…leather jacket, I say silently, is it a sign of vanity?  I check him out again and catch him struggling to get into the jacket while keeping watch on me.  He’s seriously tracking me he looks almost comical trying to don the jacket.  I don’t think so!  I conclude.

Let’s see…What about Justin Bunluesin whom I haven’t seen ever since I left Barcelona?  Justin’s charming and cute.  And he used to write poems to me in Italian, which he’s half fluent in.  Ah!  What a romantic guy!  Wait a minute!  Justin certainly will have to stretch himself on a rack for years to grow simply an inch closer to this guy’s height.  Am I mad?  He can’t be Justin.  The Thai guy’s a five footer! He’s almost a midget compared to this strapping guy. 

‘Bye Chad!’  I call out almost instinctively to the beefy shop owner as I walk past him and the couple he’s conversing with.

‘Buh bye,’ Chad answers.  A thought of Francis Vicenco springs to my mind.  Francis, yes, dapper Filipino Francis who had a soft spot for me.  I met him in San Francisco a while back.  Francis and my cute stalker are roughly the same height.  Francis too is fair.  He used to go on shopping spree with me but I can’t picture this guy doing so.  My stalker's too virile compared to Francis.  And Francis is cultured; he loves good films especially by Aldomovar and good books and can quote Tennessee Williams and Oscar Wilde like the back of his hand. With this guy’s remark on Snow White and Rapunzel, he probably watches Disney cartoons and reads fairy tales in his spare time.  Despite the last conjecture, I can’t help admitting he's attractive. 

And suddenly, a voice inside me quickly reminds me Francis is more handsome. 

Just take a look at Francis’ skin.  It’s spotless, glowing, healthy.  What am I thinking?  There’s no way the guy can be reincarnated as Francis.  Francis had stacks of Biore, Kiehl’s, Clinique and Lauder in his vanity cabinet and they put my meager cosmetics to shame.  Francis loves all things by gay film makers and writers.  Francis shopped for lingerie with me.  Of course Francis won’t be hounding me like this guy is. Francis is gay.

‘You’re not the least bit curious to know who I am?’  the bean pole needles me.  He sticks closer to my heels.  I’m instantly uncomfortable.

I shake my head while walking ahead.  The bare truth is I’m a complete liar; an avalanche of more male names and mug shots is filtering through my mind.  None of them, however, seems right.  My disappointment with myself grows. 

The Asian guy doesn’t know the meaning of giving up.  ‘You see, Amelia, I find you quite bizarre.  Here I am, someone who knows your name, and can verify it’s really you, the Amelia I really knew from years ago, by the way you talk, and yet you’re not interested to know who I am.  You never ever give me a chance, do you?’ 

The guy’s certainly relentless.  I can’t help suspecting he indeed has stalking genes in his DNA.  Before he follows me all the way home, I resolve to scare him off.  I swivel around abruptly to confront him.  This second time, he’s unlucky.  Or rather, I’m the unlucky one.  He’s too close to me I accidentally hit my forehead against his nose.

‘Whoa!’ he cries out.

‘Mister!  Don’t you know when to stop being too persistent and when too much is much too much?’

He clicks his tongue as he rubs the tip of his nose briefly with his forefinger.  ‘Just like the old Amelia I used to know.’   

I glare at him. 

‘Feisty, with a loose mouth, and a temper which is hard to ignore.’   

My glare now becomes a squint. 

‘You haven’t changed.  I can still picture you in your prefect uniform, your long perky pony tail with a blue ribbon, you licking your favorite sweet corn ice cream.’  He pauses, waiting for my reaction.   

Only I’m not squinting anymore and am levelly gazing him.  I’m surprised of his good account on my teenage self.  Yet, I try to remain as unimpressed as I possibly could.  At least I’m starting to have an inkling where he came from.  He must have been one of the boys from the elementary school opposite mine. Some hazy recollections of a lanky, handsome kid return to me.  My instinct nonetheless tells me chances of this guy being him are remote; something regarding the kid and the grownup doesn’t quite add up.  Who in the whole wide world is this guy? 

‘You were always aloof, Amelia, and often dismayed a fat schoolboy as if he were an insect worthy to be squashed. Once, you hurt him real bad!  Devastatingly bad.  That poor boy!’ He shakes his head in disappointment. 

There’s no hint of recognition from me.  I’m deep in thoughts I’m motionless, statue-like.  Naturally, I begin to wonder how he knows I used to dismay a portly student from the neighboring school.  I can’t quite picture the mug shot of the boy though.  His face is just a blob in my memory.  And I can’t recall any kid whom I had hurt badly years ago.  He must have been stalking me the whole of 1983 and I didn’t even know it!

The guy sighs, barely audibly.  He utters the subsequent words slowly, as if wounded by the past.  ‘And you really know how to tug the heart of a deaf schoolboy who attended the elementary school opposite yours, with your shenanigans.  Remember him?  Tall, good looking, and always googly eyed for you –’

Suddenly things begin to click for me.  I gasp and interrupt him.  ‘Jack?’

Jackpot!  He beams at me.  ‘Yes, Jack.’

‘Jack?  Jack?!’  I say ‘Unbelievable!’ as I take him in all over again.  As I marvel how utterly cool it is to meet my long, lost good friend, the Asian guy frowns slightly at me. I can’t help myself but exclaim more.  ‘Oh Jack!  Jack!  Jack!’  My dark brown eyes are bright and wide now.  ‘Why didn’t you tell me it’s you from the very beginning?  Oh, I’m sorry –’

He interrupts me. ‘I’m sorry I’m –’

I laugh at him, merrily drowning his next few words. ‘What are you sorry for, Jack?  I’m the one who should be apologizing for ignoring you just now –’

‘Sorry I’m not –’

‘Oh gosh!  Look at you!  Wow!  You look great, Jack!  Super!’  I gush he had me confused a while ago and add I should have known better; with the innovations in the medical field, things must have been very good for him.  My eyes dart to his ears.  I subsequently take in his face and notice his solemnity.  His expression signifies he has heard bad news.  Thus it renders me subdued.  I ask him what’s wrong.  He takes his time.  I suspect he wants my undivided attention prior to making his point. 

‘I’m sorry, Amelia.  I’m not Jack,’ he professes.

My voice comes out a tad shrill.  ‘You’re not?’  I pause, studying his face carefully.  In my mind, I compare what I see with the images of Jack.  I’m positive the guy appears like a grown up version of one of my childhood friends.   ‘You’re not Jack?’

He shakes his head.  ‘Uh-uh.’

I’m mildly irritated now.  ‘Hey mister!  Don’t lead me on!  You were making hand signs to me just now.  And you seemed a bit deaf when I told you a few times I’m not Amelia.  Mister, only someone who used to be deaf and can sign fits the bill!  You have to be Jack!’

He coolly repeats he’s not Jack.

I’m bemused.  ‘You gotta be kidding, mister!’

‘I’m not, Amelia. And I have a name.’

I take him in top to bottom, and back up again.  I know I’m supposed to make him feel uncomfortable.  Unfortunately he seems to be enjoying what I just did.  There’s a sparkle in his eyes.  I scowl at him.  ‘Then who the hell are you, mister?’

He smiles hesitatingly at me.  Almost bashfully, he gives me an answer.  That one name – Bean – blindsides me.

I gasp and reflexively cover my mouth with both hands.   Too late for me to save it, the terracotta pot of poinsettia I’m carrying has already dropped from my hold.  The next instance, it breaks into pieces on hitting the floor.

*