World Without Man.

Chapter III
A summary

(Recovering from the misadventure with Li Bulb Lampu and his sisters.)

Dip a coconut bun into a glass of teh 'O'. Leave it in there for five minutes, next thing you know tea all gone, the bun swollen into a dough triple its size. For three days my face got so big I felt like slicing off the extra flesh to prevent the swelling from spreading upwards to the area just below the eyes. It hurt to keep the eyes open, it hurt to keep them closed. It hurt even more in the morning after a difficult night, the eyes layered with sticky gel, probably a mixture of puss and blood. I don't know, I'm no eye doctor.

I have been on porridge diet for three days and it's making me pretty restless having to suck each spoonful twisting my mouth sideways now that the lower-half of my jaw is almost useless for chewing. Aunt says we are going to Kuala Terengganu to see a Bomoh Patah there to fix my shoulder. But this has to wait until I am strong enough to make the journey. Both Grandma and Aunt haven't started on me with their long-winded lectures. Not yet. At the moment they are more concerned with my recovery. In the meantime it's best that I behave like a real patient, moaning and complaining every now and then so they can see how much I have to suffer for my sin. This way I can send them scampering for things I need like apples, toys, and wallets with a picture of Hong Kong actresses in bikini in the side pocket. All I need to do is ask and next thing you know, I got them.

Mok Song Gigi comes in a dream every now and then, smiling a toothless grin looking down from among the clouds up above straight at me in bed, blanket up to my chin. Sometimes she speaks in a voice I can't make out. One time she comes down on me like a dragon chewing me up to pieces in between her giant gum, making so much noise grinding my chewy body that I woke up feeling so scared thinking it's true what the boys in the village are saying that she has a polong. They know for sure because one time they made funny faces behind her back. She turned with a scary glance that sent them running in all directions of the compass. It's true. Kapir serani.

She's here in the living room with Li Bulb Lampu's and Biding Hidung's mommy talking hush hush with Grandma and Aunt. They are coming into my room now to ish ish ish me, and mmm mmm mmm, caressing and massaging my feet as if peforming the last rite before sending me off to alam barza'. Mok Song Gigi reads something, her lips pouting into a twist that I'm sure she's casting a spell on me for sending her husband's trishaw into an open grave, front tyre rolled into an '8'. Li Bulb Lampu's mommy gave me twenty cent which she put in the palm of my hand. I manage to muster a thank you Mokmek. She smiles but I dare not smile back, not with Moksong Gigi right above my head that I can see her chin and neck as clear as I can see her in my dreams.

Aunt says Li Bulb Lampu and her sisters are recovering too but they didn't hurt themselves too badly. Just bruises. They jumped in time before the trishaw rolled over mid-way when the front half of the carriage got jammed in the drain. The jerk must have catapulted them like a projectile half way to heaven before the three of them landed on the grass. Lucky for them. I haven't told Aunt that I held on to the handle bar right through it all, right through the moment the trishaw nose dived into the drain. Don't ask me why I didn't let go because I can't remember. But I do remember my leg, jammed in between the sidecar and the pedal that I couldn't get it off fast enough before the whole weight of the trishaw rolled over to slam me against the concrete drain.

Good thing Biding Hidung decided not to come on board. He was the one who ran for help. We owe him something. Sometimes a decision you make at the last minute can mean something to someone, or to you. Sometimes it's good to be a coward at the last minute because you will never know that the next minute everyone will call you a hero. In this case, everyone says, mujo gok ada Biding (Hidung).