mini SYF rehearsal

The other schools came .
All played and video-ed ..
bonded together with ice-breakers ..
stupid tracy sabo me,
sit behind Leslie (from xinmin)
when we were playing double wacko .
started off with that partner, ended off
with the same partner . LOL!
Anyways, I had just realised that our SYF is
next week Monday . OMG!! The pressure .. T.T

SO MUCH PRESSURE!!!!

Back to story .

Chapter 15

“Your grandfather and I met when I was working at restaurant as a dish-washer. He was the cook of the restaurant. When we saw each other, we knew it was love at first sight.

“He kept staring at me while he was cooking and I could not concentrate on my washing. I stole quick glances of him, amazed by his awesome cooking skills and his good looks. By the fifth day of my work, he asked me out. I did not reject. And so we went to a park and chatted about almost everything under the sun.”

I tried to recollect memories of my grandfather. It was then that I realized I had never seen him before: He died before I was born. However, in my mind now, I was painting a picture of him: A young and handsome man who knew how to turn an uncooked egg into an omelette.

“We went on a few more dates. Unknowingly, we started holding hands. And as we continued dating, our love for each other grew so much that a day apart was intolerable.

“Whenever I woke up, I would wonder what he was doing. Whenever I walked to work, I would wonder if he was doing the same thing. If there were handphones during my time, I would have called him every single minute.

“Then one day, he brought me to a forest. Although I declined, he insisted. So we went into the dark forest, carrying only lighted candles. Suddenly, he disappeared. I panicked and nearly fainted, but he suddenly reappeared with a ring on his hand. He kneeled before me and proposed to me.”

I wiped off the remnants of my tears and tried to smile. Although I failed, my grandmother sensed my attempt and patted me on my shoulder.

“How could I have rejected? How could I have rejected such an offer? I cried on the spot, and within ten days, we were officially husband and wife.”

I realized that everyone had a story to tell: The auntie selling fish soup may have the most romantic love story; my old and stubborn Literature lecturer Mrs Goh may have the most tragic story to tell. Yet I always pondered on the poignancy of my own story, as if my story superseded all of theirs.

“Our relationship was as strong as a rock during our first few years of marriage. But everything soon changed. We began to drift apart. We seldom talked. There was just no reason for this rift.”

“You didn’t love him anymore?” I asked, curious.

My grandmother did not answer me. She sighed, and then continued, “I thought of divorce. But during my time, divorce was a taboo. We continued living together, exchanging less than a few words a day. And as a tradition, we had to bear a child for our parents.

“And so your mother is born. Even with the addition of a new member in the family, we still behaved like strangers. Your mother, angry with us for not giving her a good family, married off when she was just seventeen. And when I was fifty, I decided to move out. I lived alone here for five years, until your grandfather called me. He said he didn’t have much time left.”

I cursed beneath my breath. Jacky’s words rang in my mind repeatedly: “Two more years, to be exact if I don’t have the operation within this few months.”

“So I went to the hospital. Your grandfather asked me a question that made me think a lot: ‘Have you loved me throughout our marriage?’ I was lost for words. I spent the entire day thinking. And when I finally said yes, we hugged.

“Since then, I began visiting him in the hospital for his remaining days. He said something the day before he died which touched me very deeply: ‘I’ve been the happiest man in the world for two times: The first time is when you agreed to marry me, and the second time is when you said you had always loved me throughout our marriage. Because I have loved you all this while as well, but I just didn’t dare to say it.’”

My grandmother smiled when she finished her story. I knew that the memories of her dead husband were replaying in her mind. I, on the other hand, was thinking hard as well. There was a moral in her story, and with a twist of my neck, I finally knew what it was.

“Your grandfather was smiling when he died. Doesn’t matter how long we live as long as we live with a smile on our face.”

Yes, now I got it, the moral of the story. At that moment, I wanted to kiss my grandmother, but I dared not. However, after I had picked my keys up, I leaned forward and kissed her. “I love you.” I said, and made my way out.

Wait for me, Jacky.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I had just finished telling the taxi driver my destination when my handphone rang.

“Joanna?” the female voice on the other end sounded familiar. It was Jacky’s mother. “I don’t know who else to call. You are the only one who knows everything now. Jacky’s in trouble.”

My grip on the handphone tightened and I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“The cancer cells are starting to spread. He needs an operation soon. Just… come.”

When she hung up, I got the taxi driver to stop. And for the next few minutes, I stared out of the window, saying nothing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Look at this.” the doctor pointed at a negative of a brain X-ray. A dark spot was visible on the left of it. “This is the tumour. His case is Diffuse Astrocytomas Grade Two. The cancer cells will spread, but at a very slow rate. For the past few months, we’ve been trying to stop the cells from spreading too much. But it’s hard now.”

I tried to process what the doctor had said. He was explaining in layman’s terms. Jacky’s mother sat beside me, her eyes wide open.

“The reason why we’ve not operated on him is because of the fact that his tumour is very close to his brain stem, a very important structure of the brain. However, his cancerous cells have now spread into the brain stem, growing near the cerebellum. The cerebellum is responsible for the movement of his muscles.”

“Surgery is the only way now?” Jacky’s mother said.

The doctor nodded.

“Then what is the success rate?”

The doctor shrugged. Bad news. “Fifteen percent. It is very risky as the cancer cells are inside the brain stem.”

“What if he doesn’t take the surgery?”

“He will first become paralysed. Then he will begin losing his brain functions and become brain-dead after a few months.” We were left speechless with that. He continued, as if he had no feelings. “The surgery must be done by next week. If not, we will lose control over the cancerous cells.”

“Who makes the decision?”

“He’s under eighteen, so the final decision still rests with you.” The doctor said. Jacky’s mother’s expression was a fusion of confusion and depression.

“Great.” She said, and walked off without saying bye.

Jacky’s dying within a few months. That thought whirled in my mind like a bad dream. Oh, please let me wake up from this nightmare.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I had just finished peeling an apple when Jacky woke up. Actually, I had intended to eat the apple, but since Jacky woke up exactly when I had finished peeling it, I passed him the apple. He held out his weakened hand to take the apple.

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away, eh?” he said, taking a bite. “Get me more apples. Then I’ll be discharged soon.”

He already knew the situation. Her mother had agreed to the operation, and he was to undergo the surgery next Thursday. He knew the success rate was only fifteen percent, and he also knew the consequences if he did not undergo the surgery. Yet his trademark smile still lingered on his lips.

I wanted to say something, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Talk to me, Jacky.

“I may have a bandage here on my head when the play comes around, so I may not be able to do the play. You make sure Johnny does a great job, eh?” he said. Johnny, one of our classmates, was to take over him as Romeo. “And yeah, I took up the role because I only needed to memorise two words and got to lie on a pretty girl’s back. But now it’s different. It’s free-style. That’s why I’m backing out.” He laughed. It sounded strange.

“Rest.” I whispered.

“I’m lying on the bed with a blanket over me. I’m resting. And I’m eating an apple!” With that, he dropped the apple. It rolled off the bed and hit the floor. I went towards it but he stopped me.

“No. I’ll do it.” He said, and slowly climbed out of the bed. With great effort, he lifted the apple up as if it weighed ten kilograms. I could not make out whether he was just joking or he was really suffering. “See? I can do it. I can get an apple from the floor. Why can’t I get a rock out of my head? The rock is so much smaller than this apple!”

I stayed with him for a few more hours before I left. As I was on my way out, I saw Doctor Ong, my psychiatrist. I tried avoiding him by looking at the floor, covering my face with my hair. But my uniform gave me away.

“Hey, Joanna.” I heard his voice. “I’d really love it if you could come visit me some day.” He said, obviously trying to mock me. Go to your clinic and curse more people? I wondered.

“What are you doing here?” I said.

“I’m here to visit your best friend.” He stressed the word best. Actually, I wanted to ask him about Landy. But before I could say anything, he was off into Jacky’s ward.

How did he know of Jacky’s condition?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter 16

I had come to a profound conclusion: I had the most complicated life in the world.

Firstly, I had a fatal curse. Secondly, my longtime best friend was imaginary. Thirdly, the guy whom I love so much is dying.

Everything in my world seemed to collapse all of a sudden. I skipped school one day and visited Jacky. My classmates kept on asking me to go for the last full-dress rehearsal of the play but I declined. What good can a stupid play do now?

Jacky, as usual, was snoring his head off in the morning. I refilled the water in the flask, bought fruits to top up the basket and dug out a book to read. It had been a long while since I had read a book. The book was entitled “Destiny’s Cries”, a romantic love story set in Singapore written by Low Kay Hwa. Not too long ago, someone (I forgot who) introduced the book to me but I had refused to read it. Now, in this forlorn ward occupied only by Jacky and me, I began reading the first page.

I spent my morning listening to Jacky’s snores and reading the book. Amazingly, I finished the book within a few hours and was crying at the ending.

The story was about a guy, Alan, who found a girl, Destiny, at a rooftop. Alan went to the rooftop another day and saw Destiny again, and realized later in the story that Destiny had always been waiting for him there. But when they fell in love, trials and tribulations appeared and Alan was faced with a challenge that would test his love forever.

I began to peel an apple, hungry after all the reading. When I was done, Jacky moved and opened his eyes. When he saw the apple in my hand, he reached for it.

“Great, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.” He said. “You’re good. Whenever an apple is peeled, its colour will change within a few minutes. Yours, your apple’s colour is always so fresh.”

I shook my head weakly, saying nothing. My phone rang again but I rejected the call. “Those classmates of ours are asking me to go for the play.” I explained. Everyone knew of his condition by now. Most of them visited him during evenings as they had commitments in the afternoon.

“Go. Go and get a trophy for me.”

“I don’t wanna-”

“I wanna see the trophy when I wake up.” He said. “Come back again when you’re done with the rehearsal. Go.”

I fought my compulsion and stood up.

“Make sure you get the trophy. Make sure you get it.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The rehearsal went by smoothly.

Our lecturers decided to add a special program on the day of the play. They wanted every one of us to dedicate a message to Jacky on stage. Many of my classmates instantly composed a message. I sat in a corner and thought of what to say on the actual day. Then I borrowed a pen from Michael and slowly, I penned my message.

The play was scheduled for next Monday, four days after Jacky’s surgery. I kept on wondering whether I would be smiling or crying on that day.

After we were done with writing our messages, I went off to the hospital again. Jacky had one more week left, and I was going to make full use of that one week.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jacky was reading a magazine when I reached his ward.

He smiled upon my entrance. But his smile seemed to be too wide, too forced. Something was wrong. I sat beside him and said nothing. I did not know what to say. He had always been the one starting the conversation. Not me.

“I’m going for the surgery on Thursday, 2pm. September 25, 2003.” He said.

“I know.”

“Curse me.”

I nearly dropped myself onto the floor. Butterflies flew around in my empty stomach and my tongue stuck out without my control. What did he just say? Curse him!?

“Curse me. Say I’ll never wake up from my operation. Say I’ll be in coma forever after my surgery.” He said indifferently.

I balled my hand into a fist. How can he play with my curse like that! I could hear the loud and fast thumping of my heart. “It’s not a joke. It’s not a funny matter. Don’t mess around with my curse.”

“You don’t have a curse and I’m going to prove it to you. I’m going to wake up on Thursday night, a living proof that your so-called curse is a mental illness called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Landy is one good example that you’re suffering from a mental illness.”

“You’ll-” I stopped. I was going to say the word “die”, but I managed to hold back in time. “Don’t.” I whispered. As I discovered my curse a long time ago, I had realised by now that the only way to prevent me from cursing anyone in a quarrel is by walking away.

Without saying anything further, I dashed for the exit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jacky’s mother called me a few hours later. Her voice was hoarse and choky. I was sitting at the cafeteria of the hospital, gazing at every single person who bought anything from the fruits stall.

“Jacky decided not to have the operation.” She was saying. Every time she called me, it was always bad news. How I hoped I had not picked up any of her calls. “He said the reason is because of you. What happened?”

I wanted so much to explain over the phone, but it would take a long time. “Leave it to me. I’ll go talk to him now.”

I puffed on two cigarettes outside the hospital, mustered all my courage, then went to the ward again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As I predicted, Jacky’s mother was inside the ward, talking to Jacky. Jacky was chewing on an unpeeled apple. “Ah, here comes the expert in apple-peeling.”

Jacky’s mother was expressionless. She glared at me for a while, sighed loudly and went out of the ward. I was alone with Jacky again. He was still biting his apple. “My mum doesn’t really know how to peel an apple. So I have it unpeeled.”

I was lost for words. Sometimes, I wondered if everything had been a plot. How could he still be so jovial when he knew he was dying soon?

“Go for the surgery.” I advised.

“Curse me.”

“Go for the surg-”

“Curse me. You can do it. Curse me, and I’ll go for it.”

What could I say? It was like him asking me to kill him. But if I don’t curse him, and he doesn’t undergo the surgery, the percentage of his survival is zero. But if I curse him…

“I’m going to wake up. Trust me. I’m going to prove to you that your curses are nothing but mind games. I’m going to prove to you that. Come one, curse me. If not I’ve only got a few more months to live.”

You’ll die with my curse! My curses are curses, not some simple mental illness!

I was put in the most difficult position in my life. I thought hard. Both decisions would leave me on a losing end. I felt like running around the ward now, shouting and screaming at the top of my voice.

“You don’t fuck around with my curse.” I said softly and took out my pack of Marlboro, but it was empty. Throwing it to a side, I whipped out my lighter and tossed it away as well. I was really desperate for a puff of tobacco now. “Will you really wake up?” I asked. What a stupid question. I had lost control of myself. My lips were shaking and really, I felt like jumping onto Jacky and slapping his face for a million times.

“Yes.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I did not let out my breath, staying in that position for a long period of time. When I finally exhaled, I began to say something.

“Then you bastard, you fucking bastard, you’re not going to wake up once you undergo the surgery. You’re going to get into a deep coma, and then your body will be cemented like some fish in the market.”

I said that.

I just cursed Jacky to death.

Oh, fuck you, Joanna Fung Wai Gwan.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

END OF POST {:

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