31st, Sunday, H 2100
Pak Cik Wang came to collect the payment this afternoon. As usual, he was anxious. When I said anxious, let me get this straight, I don’t mean that he is always literally anxious. I meant he, umm, how do I put this, let’s see, asks disturbing questions too much. Like today, we had ourselves a really awkward conversation. By awkward, I do mean the conversation is literally awkward.
“So, how’s the house is doing?” Pak Cik Wang asked.
Yes, for a moment, you would think that he will at least ask on how you were doing, not the house. We did not press the matter because for all we know, he could also mean, “Is there any problem with the house?”.
“Pretty fine. We’re coping greatly.”
“Pretty fine? What? Is there any hole on the ceiling? Clogs in the drainage? Rust in the water supply?”
“Uh, no.” Hamsika started to frown. She frowns whenever she tries to hold on her laughter. A method which often ends in epic failure. If this goes on, the most awkward moment in our lives will be recorded here, in my journal, and I’ll make sure it is published for the world to see.
“So? What’s the problem?”
“There’s absolutely no problem, Pak Cik. None at all, the house is doing beautifully.” I put on my sweet smile. Only, I don’t know how sweet it will appear to him.
“Okay, then.” He wrote out our receipt and hand it to us. “There will be someone new moving in next to this house.” He said.
How he knew what he knew was not a reasonable question. He owns a Victorian house and rents it. That surely means he has a long link in this society. We remained silent. There will be more of that coming from Pak Cik Wang than that. He thinks it is cool to pause occasionally for effect. I think I’ll blame the dramas for this. We were hungry that time and he made us wait for our lunch and the aroma of chicken curry had reached us already from the kitchen.
“It’s a he.”
Oh, no. Not a good one coming. There is one thing about Pak Cik Wang you would like to know by now; he treats the three of us like his daughters sometimes. It is sweet considering we are far away from our parents and he does not have any living successor. Another time, it will be creepy. I mean, come on, even your parents will leave you some space. Pak Cik Wang does not. He made it clear on the very day we agreed to rent his house; it would always be “My house, my rule.” Harsh. Since we are only tenants, we can’t help but agree.
“I don’t want to hear any codswallop about a man of his early twenties entering my house. You will not have him over, I don’t want my beautiful house to be stained and tainted by these dirtiness of the vile this generation has brought with time.” So he said it.
“Should you be friendly, it is only in open space. Publicly. Please, ladies, no alcohol. You’ll stain my bamboo décor, understood?”
Then the awkwardness came. He was looking at us and we were just waiting for him to run along to his chess set and fie so we can eat our lunch happily. Unfortunately, Kiran was being way happy-go-lucky for us to bear that noon that she said something that would make me think I just gone deaf.
“We’re just having lunch! You wanna join?” Yes, she genuinely chirped that with that language.
I rest my case, once more faking a smile. Hamsika faked a smile too, but for totally different reason than mine. As soon as Pak Cik Wang left the house, she let out this odd kind of squeal, saying Transformation Occurs repeatedly. I think it was the Gossip Girls wannabes doing. They must have Saloon Spree over at their shop again yesterday. *sigh* Humans. I’m ready for movie night together! We are going to watch Gone with the Wind today. Kiran’s pick. She always picks a messed up story with a messed up storyline to relate to herself. Well, pen off, Malaysia. I’m off to the couch.
pro-English nampakk .
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