Koh struggled from the bed and made his way to the table where the phone rested. Hands shaking so badly he was barely up to the task, he punched out the number of his one close nephew, Daniel. He had arranged for Daniel to drop by at six, to “pick something up.” Of course, he was supposed to find Koh dead. But that was well over an hour away. Koh needed him there now.
He cursed when the droning buzzes ended with the recorded voice saying, “Sorry, the M1 customer you just called is not responding. Please try again later.” The old man slammed his phone back into its cradle. Stupid, so stupid! Why even have a handphone if you’re not going to leave it on, make yourself available when people need you in an emergency like this?
So, Koh reluctantly called emergency services. And after hanging up, he settled himself into the creaking chair next to the table and stared over at her, his quivering hands set flat on his thighs. Oh my God, this is how I sit at a wake. But that’s not the situation here; she’s young, she’ll be fine, this is most likely just… just what?
Yes, just what was this anyway? For that matter, why had this lovely young woman agreed to come over and have sex with some pathetic old man who had some crazy plan to end his own life? He was well acquainted with his own plan, how beautiful it was, but he suddenly wondered what her reason was for participating. As the heavy moments dragged past, these questions grew more and more vexing for Kwan How.
He pulled himself up, staggered over and stood at the foot of the bed.
Her mouth now hung open; she didn’t seem to be breathing at all. Koh wanted to put his hand to the mouth to test her for breaths, maybe try to feel a pulse.
But at the moment he was terrified to come any closer. He stared, fixed in a state just short of shock. How did this girl end up like this in my bed? Just lying there, maybe dead, she looked — he hated to even visit this thought — but she looked… yes, perfect.
He picked up a blanket from the edge of the bed and spread it over her, to protect her decency for when the medical-emergency team arrived. And he still could not keep from staring at her. She had this amazing look etched into her face. As if she had just achieved something beautiful. And now he imagined that that mouth was open so that she could sing some sublime, silent song. Yes, there was now something irredeemably perfect about this moment. Although it was mainly hers, he had a share of it.
Koh dropped the towel wrapped around his own midriff and climbed onto the bed. He lifted the blanket and started to slide under it. But no, although he ached to touch her naked body again with his, he realised he couldn’t.
He wrapped the blanket tightly all around her, pulled up closer and folded his arm around her. She still felt so warm, looked so lovely here. He rested his head firmly against hers, listening as hard as he could.
At first, he just wanted to hear some breathing, but when he couldn’t detect any, he strained his ears to listen to that silent song he imagined her singing. This was surely the anthem of the perfect exit. When he, too, could hear it, he would know how to reach that point, as she did. He waited.