Quote:
Originally Posted by SerflySGR
"I think you not believe me." She shook her head, "maybe too late," she said. She wanted to say something else but she suddenly held back, nodded furiously as if she made some mistake and then quickly scurried away. I shouted out to her and tried to call her back but it only made her hasten her pace.
I stood there, puzzled - what did she ask me to 'be careful'? What did she mean by 'not simple girl'? Why was it 'too late'? Why did she suddenly just stop and 'run off'? Before my Sherlock Holmes detective mind could come to any conclusion, my thoughts were interrupted by an all too familiar voice.
"Abang! Balik?"
Holding onto our dinner, she beckoned me to go home with her.
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I didn’t think too much about that encounter until days later when my Mother came to visit. Even though she didn’t like Wanda but to be separated from her beloved grandson is too much for her to bear.
“See? Even Nurul thinks there is something weird about Wanda!” she said, peering around the house, as if she was afraid of being watched.
“She’s not around Ma,” I said,
“they went to the Polyclinic together.”
Seeing ‘the coast is clear’, Mother even offered to call Nurul in front of me.
Nurul? Who the hell is Nurul? One of Mother’s
Mak Kaypoh Kawans?
Sensing my confusion (or rather confusion was written all over my face), my Mother offered to clear my doubts. Nurul, was in fact, the chubby, older maid that I met the other night.
“Nurul tells me that Wanda is popular with some of the stall holders here. These lecherous men give her ‘special deals’ while making eyes with her.” Mother charged.
“Tell me: what type of girl would do such a thing?” she asked.
“Smart girls?” I said before breaking into a laugh.
“I think she has put you under her spell,” Mother said,
“how else would my words fall on deaf ears?” she asked.
I tried to reason with her; Nurul was probably jealous of her. This could be the reason why she’s been painting a bad picture of Wanda to my mother.
“How well does this Nurul know Wanda anyway?” I asked.
“Nurul and Wanda are from adjecent villages.” Mother defended,
“they were practically neighbours back in Java!” Then she lowered her voice to a Whisper,
“Did you know that Wanda is already married back in Indonesia?”
I nodded.
“And you know that her husband is ‘mentally challenged’?”
For a moment, I was dumbfounded. Should I reveal to her what was Wanda shared with me (minus the juicy parts, of course)?
“Nurul says she married that husband of hers because she got impregnated by a married man so her family quickly married her off to cover the shame of her pregnancy out of wedlock.”
Noting the surprise on my face, she droned on and on about how Wanda was like a fox spirit preying on clueless men. She made it seem like Wanda would go around sleeping with half the neighbourhood just to get cheap deals.
Although I found Mother’s words amusing, a part of me became jealous; were there other men, other than those she mentioned to me, who had their way with her? And one of the men actually sired a child with her?
I felt pangs of jealousy; there was no way I was going to share my Wanda with other men. Especially not after all these months of grooming her from a village girl into a modern city girl. Wanda was mine and I was not about to share her with other men.
In a fit of jealous rage, I slammed my fist onto the table.