Fiction: Group 3
“Fernando Chui was proclaimed the Chief Executive of Macau today. He pledged to ‘build a better Macau’
and said that ‘with prosperous China comes prosperous Macau’.” – chief executive?
I had a horrible omen.
“Dave? What’s the date today?”
“17
th
April.”
“I left on 16
th
, so that’s one day later,” I thought.
“What about the year?” I questioned charily, dreading his answer.
“2014 of course! Are you OK?”
I felt the blood draining from my brain, and from my face. I struggled to keep myself upright, but to no
avail. The bad headache counter-attacked and trounced me, and everything went black.
***
Mei-yee felt a twinge in her chest. She let out a cry. Just before she swooned she had managed to finish her
prayer.
“Please bring back Tsz-fung to me. I want to see him for one more time,” murmured her barely audible
voice.
***
“How could that be?” I mumbled.
I was suffering from a splitting headache worse than the severest katzenjammer I had ever had. Hardly could
I breathe. I felt like being pounded to a mash.
“Stop thinking about it, Tsz-fung! I don’t know whether or not you can make it if you pass out the third
time in a day!” Dave reproached.
A fraught silence.
“You’re right. Let’s get off the boat and see what we can do,” I concluded after cooling off, as Dave moored
alongside a jetty.
Meanwhile, Dave seemed to be fathoming out something after knowing my story.
On the shore stood a familiar Mazu temple. Here is my village. In the distance I saw the hut I had left
yesterday, 50 years ago. I maundered towards the hut, composing my thoughts. Dave walked behind. I
didn’t notice his look of surprise when he realised I was walking towards that hut. I was too occupied. What
should I say when I see them? Would they hold resentment for me? What should I do if so? My mind was
spinning and whirling with questions.
I pushed the door open. The nostalgic and tantalizing aromas of yesterday rushed into my nostrils. Every
single thing was exactly where it used to be. The hut wasn’t musty and hadn’t fallen into disrepair as
expected, instead it was neat and tidy. Apparently someone had been taking great care of it. On the
bookshelf there were two picture frames. One of it held our black-and-white so-called family photo,
slightly yellowed with age. The photo was an epic failure. My face was blurred because the printer
malfunctioned. We couldn’t afford to take another picture and that’s my only photograph, so I left virtually
no evidence of me ever existing in this world. The other one held a coloured photo of Mei-yee in her 40s
with young and beautiful Ka-yun. Beside them stood a young man, whom I assume was my son-in-law.
In the picture Ka-yun was cradling a baby boy in her arms. The baby took after his mother. Currents of
electricity ran through my body. That baby boy was –
“Grandpa, you’re my grandpa aren’t you? You’re the man grandma longed to see. You’re the man!” Dave
exclaimed.
“I…… I believe so……” I struggled to utter, my voice shaky with emotion.
Drrrrnnn!
Drrrrnnn
–
Dave answered his phone.
“Mum? What? OK! I’m coming!”
Dave yanked at my arm made a dart for the door. We dashed to the pier and hopped on a taxi.
“What…… what’s the matter?” I squeaked, gulping air hysterically.
“Grandma’s in hospital. She had a heart attack. Most probably fatal.”
“Third Floor.”
The lift doors opened and we exited. We raced along the corridor and at the very end of it we found the
room with a plate saying ‘A&E department’. Dave approached the bed nearest to the window and undrew
the eau-de-Nil drapes. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
