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April 13, 2005
Shrivel
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A few evenings ago…
I slotted the key into the hole and the lock went “click”. Staggered into the hall and I saw her sitting on the couch. On some days, she would drop a few hints about how her children were all grown up and lamented that they no longer greeted her when they got home. Catching the not-so-subtle hint, I muttered a greeting as I walked into my room, threw the bag on the floor and turned on the computer.
As usual, she would be the only person in the house to watch the news on the telly. My old man would prefer reading the news quietly in the evenings to pass the time before bed beckoned or to have something to read while eating his supper. I got my dose of developments around the world (not just on this island) through other channels while I suppose the ex-sarong kebaya girl got her own sources too.
I cared little about what they were reporting. As for her, she would be enthralled by news on robberies, murder, suicides or the like and if not for the fact that she was educated in an English-medium school back then, she would probably be a rabid Chinese tabloid reader by now. The tropical weather meant that she would usually be in singlets and shorts. There was even a pair of shorts, on which a large crest of a football club (probably some German team) were plastered on each side, where the butts would be, although she would roll her eyes whenever the son discussed developments in football with his old man.
This evening, a few minutes after I staggered into my cramped room, she called out to me and started raving about Rotiboy. Apparently, her colleague treated her to one of the bun and immediately she fell in love with it so much that she decided to buy another to savour. This was despite the fact that the buns were a dollar a piece which was pretty dear for a small bun. I acknowledged her comments but said nothing much, since I was never a coffee lover.
Thus the conversation between mother and son ended.
***
This morning…
I was getting a little late for work, since my gaffer’s gaffer once stated that under no circumstance would any of his subordinates report for work later than 8.30 am in the morning, although it was stipulated that workers here could start work no later than 9 am. Hurriedly, I bought my breakfast and went to the side of the road where I would hail a cab.
A middle-aged cab driver was my chauffeur for the morning. Like most people around his age who needed to wear spectacles, the frames were distinctively very eighties and it made me wonder if one day some young punk were to think that my fashion sense got stuck in a nineties time warp. There were wrinkles around his face but what set him apart was his hair, which seemed like a cross between the Magnum PI style and the one which Elvis had (aka the curry-puff style).
Probably I gave enough of non-verbal cues to cab drivers that I wanted some silence in the vehicle. Most of the cabs I found myself in these days were devoid of any conversation, safe for the moments when I had to give the driver some directions. This one was no different.
It would have been a rather quiet ride, if not for the fact that the driver had the radio turned on. Since it was close to nine in the morning, the news was on.
The top item was about some bigwig politician’s comments on how the authorities that be had already decided on the casino issue. Although the very important bloke gave very little away with regards to the decision, I did not need to consult my gut on what they would say five days from now. This issue was of some interest to the cab driver as well, for he turned up the volume of the radio when this piece of news came on.
I looked out from the car window as the newsreader moved on to the next piece of news (about some other very important bloke’s hint of retirement). The day, or rather my day, was about to start…
***
Earlier this morning…
I woke up in a daze. Took a glance at the wall clock and wondered if I should stay in bed for a few minutes more. The thought passed and instinctively, I started to feel the right side of my neck.
Somehow it seemed smaller this morning.
So, perhaps the doctor was right. It could well be a lymph-node infection, not something more sinister.
Can’t say I was very relieved.
Posted by D W at April 13, 2005 02:01 PM
Comments
Glad you're okay -- lymph-node-wise, anyway. :)
D W - Thanks.
Posted by: Laughingcow at April 13, 2005 03:09 PM
i have to second that. lymph-node is rather common and treatable right?
D W - I suppose so. Getting a little worried because it seems like it is growing back after subsiding a little...
Posted by: fhope at April 15, 2005 12:04 AM