The Night Tiger(28)



“They put a spear through the side of the trap and killed him.”

William falls silent. Ren, still holding the tray, is filled with questions. “Do you believe that a man can become a tiger?”

William closes his eyes and steeples his fingers. “The conditions for a man to become a tiger seem to contradict each other. He either has to be a saint or an evildoer. In the case of a saint, the tiger is considered keramat and serves as a protective spirit, but evildoers are also reincarnated as tigers as punishment. And let’s not forget the harimau jadian, who aren’t even men, but beasts who wear human skins. They’re all contradictory beliefs, and so I’d classify them as folktales.”

He opens his eyes again. They’re disconcertingly sharp, as though he’s snapped back from wherever it is that he’s gone. “You shouldn’t worry about today’s incident. The last thing we need around here is a superstitious panic. Forget it. God knows,” he adds under his breath, “I wish I could.”

William unpacks himself from the rattan chair and stands up, stumbling slightly. Ren feels profoundly relieved. The tight band of worry around his chest dissipates; he tries not to think that there are only twenty-two days of the soul left. This new doctor is so reasonable, so sane. Everything he says makes sense. Obediently, Ren follows him into the house.





12

Ipoh

Friday, June 12th




Sleep wouldn’t come to me that night. When I thought about the mysterious Y. K. Wong, with his narrow jaw and thin eyes, my head tightened. Who was he, and why had he tried to follow me home? I didn’t buy his story about an ancestral heirloom. That single finger made me uneasy, like a missing piece from a set of five digits. A reminder of unfinished business. On and on my mind ran, like a mouse on a wheel, but the wheel turned into a giant snake that turned to engulf me. And then I was panting, struggling breathlessly as I fell and slipped and slid down the tunnel into the world of dreams.



* * *



Unlike the first dream, I didn’t come floating down the cool river. This time I burst out on the riverbank, thrashing through bushes and sharp-bladed lalang, to find the river running next to me. The sunlit water, clear and shallow at the edge, grew mud-colored towards the middle.

And then I saw it. The same small railway station with deserted benches, the same stalled locomotive, only this time the train had stopped a little farther, as though it was about to pull out of the station. The carriages were empty: there was no one inside, not even the little boy who’d waved at me so happily last time. When I reached the station, however, he was sitting there on a bench. He smiled, a quick flash that showed his missing front tooth.

“Ah Jie,” he said, politely addressing me as “Older Sister.” “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

“What are you doing?” I sat down next to him.

“Waiting.”

It was cool and peaceful under the station’s thatched roof. “What for?”

He swung his short legs. “For someone I love. Is there anyone that you love, Ah Jie?”

Of course there was. My mother, Ming, and Shin. Even Hui and my school friends, though I’d avoided them recently out of pride—many girls from school had gone on for teacher training, while others had married—and I’d been so bitterly disappointed at my lot that I couldn’t bear to face them.

“Because if there’s someone that you really, really love,” he said seriously, “it’s all right to wait for them.”

Sitting next to him, my anxiety melted away. The breeze from the river was pleasant, the sunlight sparkled off the water like fish scales.

“If you see my brother, please don’t tell him that you’ve met me.”

“Do I know your brother?” My head felt heavy. I could barely keep my eyes open.

“You will when you see him.” The little boy turned, his eyes widening in alarm. “Please don’t fall asleep! If you do, you’ll fall through.”

“Fall through to what?” I was having difficulty understanding him.

“To the level below. This is Station One, you see. Oh please don’t! Wake up!”

He was making quite a racket. The banging got louder and louder until I forced my eyes open blearily.

“Wake up! Ji Lin, wake up!” It was Mrs. Tham, hammering on the door of my room.

Light streamed in through the slats. Disoriented, I found myself lying in bed. Mrs. Tham burst in, her feathers ruffled. Something was up; she was positively simmering with excitement.

“He’s downstairs. Your brother, that is. I think he’s come to take you home to Falim.”

“He is?”

“I told him I knew that he was your brother and why didn’t he say so yesterday? He’s waiting for you in the front room.”

“Is my mother all right?” Fear gripped me. Something must have happened, otherwise why would Shin come to fetch me away?

I’d always been afraid of receiving a message like this and the terror must have shown in my eyes, because Mrs. Tham said quite kindly, “No, there’s nothing wrong. That was the first thing I asked him. It’s just a family get-together to celebrate.”

Our family almost never had get-togethers, let alone celebrations. If we did, they were stiff affairs in which my stepfather’s friends were invited over and the men would sit and talk for hours while my mother and I served them endless cups of tea. Shin knew perfectly well how I felt about them; I couldn’t imagine that he’d come to fetch me away to such purgatory.

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