Holiday turned nightmare
Holiday-turned-nightmare -- that sounds like some cliched phrase some storybook uses about a murderer following this person on holiday leaving a trail of deaths. But still, I suppose it can describe my holiday -- at least, the last few days.
All was pretty fine and fun with cards and the arcade in super and lots of movies (ahem, not so legal vcds...). The one blemish in the first few days was that my cousin, the same age as me but younger by a few months though right now taller than me, no surprise, has now gotten herself a boyfriend. Not that there was anything wrong, but between her handphone and us, she spent much more time pressing those buttons than talking or playing with us... But at Penang, without her handphone, we had a blissful few days of real fun. The nightmare was unexpected, and it happened the day when we got back from Penang.
There was a loud engine sound in the afternoon, and we went out to look -- turned out that the next door people were going to remake their floor or something. Yeah, nothing wrong, just that they poured the sand right in the middle of the road, in front of their house. The road was narrow -- the width of two cars. There was no way our car and my uncle's car could get out with that pile of sand. We struggled it off then, thinking that they would remove it the next day, the day we were supposed to go back to Singapore.
Darkness fell bit by bit and everything felt jolly except for the tinge of regret that we would be going back the next day. Hao, Xuan, my sister and me were playing cards in the bedroom while San was either watching television outside or smsing her boyfriend. We were laughing away at the almost-successful cheat of Hao -- he almost managed to change his remaining two cards successfully, had it not have been for me -- I peeked at his cards since I've won and they were continuing. No I didn't say anything about his cheat; my sis spotted Hao and me laughing manically away. And so the almost successful brilliant cheat failed, and we were laughing at this brilliant trick.
Then suddenly, we heard some loud voices, and Hao alerted us to the fact that the neighbours were arguing. My sister went, "No lah! It's the television!" And we quieted down to listen, and when we heard that the television noises were separate from the voices, I immediately tried to peek out of the window. I thought the neighbours were arguing among themselves, and was trying to listen for a good show. Never, ever, would I have dreamt that they weren't arguing among themselves but with us.
We rushed out of the room to see what was happening -- we treated everything as a show. We would never expect that it would get serious, being the naive person that I was. I tended to believe in the good rather than the bad side of people, but I would say that the neighbours have no inch of good in them.
Apparently, my grandparents and my parents were trying to tell them nicely to move a bit of the sand away such that we can actually move the car to go back the next day. The voices got loud, and then everything that happened afterwards was a blur. It seemed like no time and forever at the same time. I don't know. Just -- a mess. Literally too.
Loud voices, then suddenly -- this stupid, shirtless, fat man suddenly kicked some of the sand over. (There were actually several stupid, shirtless, fat men) I was still shaking from the remnants of the renewed laughter, especially with my sister's mistake at thinking that the argument was from the television. My grandmother -- she walked up front, squatted down and threw a handful of sand back. They started throwing it, all of those several shirtless, stupid, fat men, and the sand got into the house front, bits and bits hitting me, us, the floor, little light brown bits standing in stark contrast with the black floor, the gaudy white light shining over. I thought it would be a sand fight only -- and then, and then, they started fighting. I was shouting for them to stop, my mother and my aunt hurried us in, and we hid in the room with the door locked up, entirely silent except for the sounds of the fight going on outside and the crying sounds that Xuan was making. We could hear them, and we could tell that they(the neighbours) had actually gotten sticks out and were hitting on something violently. I flinched at every crack.
In the room was this underlying tension and fear. I remembered how I prayed for peace and health that day in the temple, and I remembered how I brought my poker cards in the temple in my pocket -- an accidental mistake. Filled with guilt that this entire fight must be brought by me since the gods must be displeased, filled with helplessness that I couldn't go out and help them fight, filled with anger that people were beating people I loved up, filled with a desire to pinch, claw, scratch, punch those bellies full of fat, filled with a wish to sue them till they didn't have a house, a home, a family. Filled with terror, but also with a numbness that was those feelings all mixed up together.
We peeked out of the door every once in a while. At one point of time my mum was biting back angry tears, marching into the kitchen with my father right behind her and asking my dad to hurry and report to the police. I saw my uncle actually picking up a butcher knife, ready to go out. It took a few calls before the police actually came. By then the fight stopped, and we went out, our legs stepping on the dusty floor and facing a horrifying scene.
My grandfather's head was bleeding, a scary dark red streak running down his face. Over his right eye was a red patch. My grandmother's face was full of sand. Outside, lime white streaks splattered over the floor. My uncle's car was destroyed -- the entire glass at the back was smashed, the glass pieces on the road glinting off the light. I thought our car was doomed too, and in the reflection of the light, I thought I could see a bumb just above the wheel. All was eerily silent -- peace, or were the neighbours going to suddenly bash in the house again?
Two police officers guarded outside the house that night. In our room, San, Xuan, my sis and I discussed the fight. San was actually outside, while me, cowardly me, was inside, not doing anything. San's hand was bruised -- she used her hand to block off a blow from a stick raised high, almost reaching my grandmother's head. From them, I heard how they surrounded my grandfather and grandmother and beat them up, how my grandmother fell, and how my grandfather -- one against so many fattys. How my mother got pushed, and how my father rushed to her defence, getting a few blows. How my uncle actually smashed the arm of one fatty with a 5kg hammer (the fatty's lying in a private hospital now -- served him right). Full of indignation, I wished I was rich -- I wanted to sue them till they have not a cent in their hands.
San speculated that they actually called a few more fattys there in preparation of tonight's fight since normally there were only 2 or 3 people in their house-- which meant they actually were itching for a fight -- a fight to death. My mother said they were prepared to kill. That night, there was no way I could sleep. My father had gone with my grandfather and my uncle to make the police report, and was not back till 3 or 4 am. I suppose everyone was just lying there, awake.
The next day, my mother informed us that we would not be going back to Singapore that day. Ah Bit kor came back with his parents, and the entire morning people were bustling in and out -- the entire of bagan serai had learned of that incident in just a few hours. Still, it's better that they came to our house instead of theirs. Full of bruises, my grandfather and uncle still had to go to the police station again. We thought we would get justice -- instead, they got
detained.Though all was done in the name of self defence. Bruises all over their bodies, and they had to undergo such treatment in their underwears only. My grandmother had two bumps on her head, and my grandfather and uncle? All over. Imagine.
My father dragged us all the way to KL that day -- in the car, they talked even more about it. Turned out that they couldn't stay there another day -- who knows, the remaining fatty (two fattys got detained that night, and one fatty was in hospital due to my uncle's blow) might ask more people to attack us again. No hotel was available -- we stayed over at my aunt's house. We asked ourselves all the what ifs: What if we didn't go back to bagan serai after going to Penang, would this have happened? For they figured out that it was because they were worried for us that they went to request for them to move their sand. What if, what if, what if. They kept replaying the fight -- I tried to sleep on the car trip, and failed miserably till the last hour.
Those fattys were unreasonable -- that you can tell alright. Turned out that the father of the fattys was the most unreasonable. His life history: he had a wife, and he spotted a pretty lady when he was travelling. He wanted to marry her as his second wife, only to be met with opposition by her mother. Word has it that he pushed her down into the river, and married the lady. And nobody was allowed to talk to his wives -- seemed that once his wife wanted to go out for an outing with her friends, and everything was arranged. Apparently the fatty found out about it, and on that day, he actually
tied her to a chair to prevent her from going. And on the day the fight occured, one of those fattys actually went first ahead of us to the police station to report the case first when they were the ones who started the fight. What crap.
All I can say is that it is a nightmare, a truly horrifying one beyond anything I've experienced, and all petty things pale in comparison.
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far and wee
you and i together mysteriously and always floating
Sunday, December 11
8:42 PM
