The Earnest Mask: Cultural Medallion

PART ONE

1980s

Laid-off Day

LEAPING OUT OF bed, I picked up the alarm clock and checked it. I’d forgotten to set it again last night.

7.43 am. Father was sitting with his legs crossed, reading the paper. Luckily my younger sister had already gotten breakfast ready for him.

Morning, Pa. Where’s Second Sister?

She just left for school. Father adjusted his glasses. "By the way,

she said she won’t be back for lunch today."

I see. I walked out back to wash up before changing into my school uniform.

7.52 am. Pa, it’s time to go to work.

Work? He put down the paper. Right. I almost forgot. I’ll be travelling today. Er—I’m going to Jurong, so there’s no need to leave so early.

He got to his feet and picked up his briefcase and keys.

Is Xiaobao up yet? Has last night’s fever broken?

He’s much better. I’ve asked Aunty Lan next door to buy some antelope horn from a herbal shop to make soup for him this afternoon.

Well, that makes me feel better. He shut the door.

You forgot your file folder, Pa. He was getting more absent-minded by the day.

And this. I handed him his lighter.

Don’t be late for school. He rubbed my head.

1.03 pm. I was bored to tears on the bus. When it stopped, people crowded in like refugees, some pushing, some shoving and others piling in like sardines—the picture of humanity’s multitudes.

As the bus drove down Orchard Road, I spotted Father sitting on a stone bench in the shade of an angsana tree.

He was smoking and had a worry-laden face. It was rare to see him like that.

I wanted to call out, but quickly changed my mind; there were too many people on the bus and too many cars on the road.

Wasn’t he supposed to be in Jurong on business? Then how did he end up there, sitting so leisurely?

Maybe he was waiting for someone—that had to be it.

1.37 pm. I finally made it home.

I ran into Uncle Wang, Father’s colleague, the moment I was on the stairs.

How are you, Uncle Wang? Here to see my pa? I went up to greet him.

I’m glad to see you, First Sister. How come your pa isn’t home?

He went to the office. Will you come up for a cup of tea? I pulled him in; he was no stranger in our house. In fact, when Mother had passed away a few years before, he’d done a great deal to help us during the mourning period. He was also the one who’d gotten Father his job.

It’s been a long time, Uncle Wang. We wish you’d come over more often, I said.

Tied up with too many odds and ends, he said, displaying a helpless smile.

But— The smile was gone. First Sister, has your pa talked to you about work recently?

He has, actually. He’s very happy with the job. Why had he asked that?

You know, the papers are full of it. He looked uncomfortable. I guess I might as well come straight to the point. We had another round of downsizing at the company recently because of the economy and new management. And your pa was one of those who got laid off. Everyone expressed how surprised they were. But there was nothing any of us could do, since we weren’t in charge. He paused and touched the tip of his nose, before taking an envelope out of his briefcase.

Here, this is for your father, a token of good will from everyone.

Dazed, I saw nothing but a blur before me.

Ring, ring. 7.30 pm. Second Sister went to open the door.

Pa’s back.

Hey, look what I’ve got here.

I know—it’s home-style chicken, Xiaobao blurted out.

Are you feeling better? Father picked him up and touched his forehead.

Xiaobao nodded.

Today must have been payday, Pa, Second Sister exclaimed.

Wrong. Pa got a raise, Xiaobao corrected her.

You’re both so smart. Father laughed heartily.

Say, First Sister, go prepare some condensed milk for everyone. We’re celebrating.

I walked back to my room to pick up the envelope. Father was setting the table. I walked up to him.

Pa— It was all I could say.

What’s wrong? No more milk?

No, Pa— I fought to control myself. Uncle Wang came around earlier today. He brought this, from everyone at the company.

I handed him the envelope.

He froze, with the stunned look of someone who’d been unmasked, before collapsing against the window.

I didn’t dare look at him.

Outside the window was a dreary scene.

Of the Dragon Tribe

1

SO WE SMOKED with leather bags tucked under our arms and girls’ hands in ours as we hung out at a bowling alley because it made us look cool.

So we didn’t have to worry too much about the excessively red report cards.

Maybe we’d grow sexy beards like Charles Bronson.

(You probably want to grow up to be an engineer, right, child?)

No.

2

So we spoke with soft voices and smiled.

So we lived phony lives, all wearing the same expression.

We drank tall glasses of iced lemon tea at fast food restaurants.

With expressionless eyes, we stared into an afternoon that had lost its seduction.

Thoughts of home suddenly arose.

(Do you want to study abroad, child?)

No.

3

So we stood forlornly in a corner at the dance checking out the scantily clad girls who were dancing their hearts out. We lit one cigarette after another—

Made them burn. Then,

Burned ourselves.

So someone knew we’d just turned twenty—after all, the backs of our heads had been shaved clean.

(Have you thought about going into business, child?)

No.

4

So we panicked and ran off in all directions.

Time chased after us.

Our faces were twisted into a popular style.

We didn’t like roaming the streets but had no choice; we were dressed like Bohemians but had no girls hanging onto us. Dusk was still swirling around Orchard Road.

Finally we were lost in the jarring echoes of steel and cement.

(Life isn’t too bad, is it, child?)

No, it is bad.

5

So we began to quake out of constant fear that our days would be stifled to the point of suffocation.

We continued to smoke, slowly.

We continued to roam the streets, and went to fast food restaurants.

We seemed to have been forgotten by society. Maybe it’s a phase.

(Please let it be so.)

But we were about to lose faith.

(You’re utterly hopeless, child.)

Oh.

Five-Spice Fermented Tofu

THIS ALL HAPPENED several years ago.

My car was flying down Changi Road as a question swirled in my head: should I stop by Grandma’s place?

I had lived with my mother’s mother until I’d gotten married and moved out, partly to avoid judgemental looks from uncles and aunts, and partly to preempt any possible conflicts between Grandma and my wife, who was eager to have her own place.

Naturally I was reluctant to leave Grandma.

A while ago I learned from a cousin that they were celebrating Grandma’s seventieth birthday and I ought to be there. But today I was on my way to Changi Hospital to visit my boss and have him sign some documents, and I didn’t want to spend too much time with Grandma while I was on official business.

I parked in an alley when I got to Changi Tenth Milestone, before heading to a provision shop across the street.

Since I hadn’t planned ahead for the visit, I thought it might be better to have some things delivered.

Hey, it’s Ah Gui, the storeowner called out when he saw me.

To what do we owe this honour—you must be doing well.

I gave him a reluctant smile.

Very funny, I said in jest. It’s you who’s doing well. I picked out some daily necessities and some of Grandma’s favourite snacks, and asked him to deliver them.

Consider it done. Hey, Xiongzai, take these over to Ah Gui’s house when you get a moment.

Which house is it?

The one around the corner, Third Great Uncle’s.

Obviously it had been too long since I’d last been there; otherwise, the young man would have recognised me.

The owner’s son was dragging a skinny boy through the door as I was about to leave.

Pa, I caught this brat stealing stuff from the warehouse out back. See here, he took some five-spice fermented tofu.

The boy was cowering to the side when the owner grabbed him with one hand and raised the other to slap him.

Hey, not so fast, boss. I went up and stopped him. Hurting a kid is a bad idea. Besides, you haven’t lost anything. I’ll take him back to his parents.

So I took the boy away, as if I were snatching a chick out of the clutches of a hawk.

The boy put up no resistance as we crossed the street, whereupon he retrieved a bicycle that was bigger than him from the overgrown weeds by the roadside.

Where do you live? I asked.

He pointed to a narrow alley.

Why did you take that? I held him by the hand.

For my grandma.

Who else is there in your family?

Grandpa.

Only Grandpa? That surprised me.

He nodded.

Why only spiced tofu?

It’s Grandma’s favourite.

I see. I’d like to meet them.

I followed him in my car, though he didn’t show any sign of running away. His scrawny frame straddled the bicycle, one leg sticking through the triangular space to reach the pedal on the other side, his body rising and falling as he rode down the path.

When we got to a three-way junction, he jumped off and parked the bike by a rundown kiosk.

I realised this was Jalan Tiga Ratus Cemetery once I got out and looked around.

He stood outside the kiosk with his head down, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

Is this it?

He nodded.

Take me to meet your grandma.

He walked on ahead, meandering between the graves and tombstones, before coming to a stop.

It was the grave of an old woman, in front of which lay a small bouquet of frangipanis. Was the woman in the grave the boy’s grandma?

He stood there with his head bowed.

Come, take me to meet your grandpa. I walked up and lay my arm on his fragile shoulder.

No, I’m afraid. He was trembling slightly, his eyes moist.

I checked the date on the tombstone against my watch. Today was the anniversary of the old woman’s death. Not knowing what to say, I stood there silently.

Go pick up two jars of five-spice fermented tofu at the shop. Can you remember that? They’ll have been paid for.

That was all I could do. I waved for him to go home before driving back to the provision shop.

Say, boss. I took the boy back to his family. He stole the jar because he’d lost his money. By the way, they need two more and here’s the money for them.

Ai, there’s no need to do that. It’s nothing.

Has my order been delivered yet?

Not yet. Is it urgent?

No, but I think I ought to take the stuff over myself. Looks like you’re busy around here. I patted him on the shoulder, and then something occurred to me.

Oh, and put a jar of five-spice fermented tofu in there. It’s my grandma’s favourite too.

A Trivial Matter

WE WERE HAVING an animated conversation along the way.

It was particularly enjoyable to talk about our reunion in Genting Highlands that year.

We were plunged into the abyss of reminiscence.

He blurted out after a while, How’s the kid? Still suffering from coughing fits?

He’s fine. Xiaobao is doing fine. Ma’s taking good care of him. I