“Do it again!” Ling said.
And so he did. Even if ciggies had become fucking expensive, he was sure this would be worth it. He flung the second one a little farther out. Even he was laughing along with the girls now.
Ah Meng glanced over at them — Yan didn’t look scared anymore. He realized this was the happiest he’d felt in a very long time. He had been thinking recently about how ironic it was that the infamous Changi prison, where British prisoners of war were kept during the Japanese Occupation and now home to dangerous criminals, was so close to his kelong. Yah, sure — those guys in there now were prisoners. But hallo, so was Ah Meng! What kind of life was this at the kelong? He was supposed to do it just for two years, until Ah Long came back from uni. But from the way Ma had been talking, it seemed as if she was happy to have him take care of business on the kelong for good. Save money what — no need to hire a new kelong manager all. Kani nah. Just thinking about Ah Long coming back and getting to sit in some air-con office, planning the family business’s future while Ah Meng sweated his balls off at the kelong, made him want to vomit blood.
Ah Long had recently sent Ma some picture of a girlfriend — some small-small, cute-cute Singaporean girl who was studying business in Queensland also. Ma was so excited, asked Ah Long to make sure to bring her home for Chinese New Year. Of course Ah Long could meet girls like that, lah — Ma send him away to study all. But Ah Meng? Put him on the kelong, how to meet girls? All the action he got most nights was hearing Siva in the room next door whacking off. When Ah Meng first started on the kelong Siva at least tried to be a bit quiet about it. But now, after a year, the guy damn not shy one. Ah Meng heard each long grunt through the thin wall between them.
Now, though — who was the winner? Ah Meng looked over at Yan and Ling, both of their faces bright, upturned, almost glinting in the sun. He shook his head and smiled at his fortune. Just wait till Ma saw these two. When they were a little older, perhaps.
“Come,” he said, getting up and starting back toward the house. “You girls hungry?”
Choosing not to show them his bedroom just yet, Ah Meng led them to the small kitchen where he, Siva, and the boys cooked instant noodles most days. Once a week they split a fish — nothing special, just the first thing they netted that was large enough for the four of them. Ah Meng had caught one just that morning, thinking that he might have it all to himself tonight as a treat. He took it out of the fridge and showed it to the girls.
“You cook?” he asked.
Ling nodded. “Just helping Mum in the kitchen sometimes,” she said, opening drawers to search for a knife. She had never gutted a fish, so Ah Meng showed her how. Once that was done, he handed her the knife and let her chop up the rest. He didn’t know how to cook so he usually just fried up pieces of fish with some green onions and soy sauce. When he explained this to Ling, she took over.
Ah Meng went to the fridge and grabbed two cold Anchor beers. He offered one to Ling but she shook her head. “Uncle — I’m only fifteen, lah,” she said, laughing.
Fifteen. Ah Meng felt the twinge again. He’d come this far. See how, lor. If got chance then got chance. No chance then no chance. The gods would decide.
He lightly pinched Ling’s cheek, a move that made her smile a little wider, surprising him. He felt himself start to blush and turned away. Opening a can of Anchor, Ah Meng sat down by the chipped square table outside the kitchen where he, Siva, and the boys had their meals. This day was turning out not bad, lah. But what next? He wasn’t sure. When Ah Meng first saw the girls, he had thought he might say hello and maybe offer them a ride on his boat in the near future. Now that they were on the kelong, he had no idea what to do.
Chuan dao qiao tou zhi ran zhi — Ah Meng hadn’t paid much attention to Chinese classes in secondary school but this old saying popped into his head. When the boat reaches the head of the bridge, it will naturally straighten itself out. He leaned back against the rusted metal folding chair and stretched his legs, getting settled before lighting up a Salem.
As his cigarette disappeared, he noticed the smell of fish frying in onions. Good girl, he thought. In minutes, Ling and Yan appeared bearing a plate of fish and three sets of chopsticks. Ling had tucked another can of Anchor under her arm, setting it down shyly in front of him. Ah Meng looked at the girl, blushing again.
They ate in silence. Feeling like he needed to thank Ling, Ah Meng said, “Wah, your cooking very good!” Ling just smiled and continued digging out plump little pieces of fish, using her fingers to remove hairlike bones, before offering them to Yan. This pleased Ah Meng. She’ll make a very good mother, he thought, wondering how their first kiss might be, how her lips would feel on his, on his neck, more. He didn’t feel guilty.
“You live here alone?” Ling suddenly asked, heading into the kitchen to get more beer when she noticed Ah Meng crumpling up his second can.
“I wish!” he said, laughing. “But no, lah. My workers here also. But today off day.”
Ling, back with two cans, opened one for Ah Meng. “Isn’t it lonely?” she asked. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Ah Meng wasn’t sure what to say. Explain too much and she would think he was a loser. Tell her too little and she might think he wasn’t interested in girls.
“Last time,” he said, wiping his mouth with his palm and lighting another cigarette. “Now no more. No time, lah! Why? Want to be my girlfriend, is it?”
Ling said nothing but Ah Meng could see her smiling. Yan was absently picking at fish remnants, putting nothing more in her mouth. His mind was feeling a bit like cotton balls. He normally didn’t drink this much so early — and usually not when it was so hot. Beer is nice in the afternoon, lah, but maybe when you’re sitting in a shady hawker center or in your friend’s air-con house. Out on the kelong, drinking in the afternoon sure got headache one. And he could feel one happening right now. Die, lah — like that how to perform? Ah Meng quickly finished the last swigs of his Anchor, crumpling the can. Too late, he heard Ling opening the other can on the table, pushing it toward him. He wanted to say no but she looked so deferential, her sweet face so much wanting to please, that he just nodded toward her, took the fresh beer with both hands, and had a few long sips.
Yan, bored, got up and wandered toward the slatted footpath near the fish.
“Oi! Be careful!” Ling shouted, jumping up and hurrying after her. Ah Meng did the same, falling in step with the girls after Ling had caught up to Yan, taking her hand, firmly guiding her to walk only in the very middle of the footpath, so narrow in parts it was almost like a gangplank.
When the path took them to the heart of the wooden maze, Ling and Yan picked a darker spot and sat down, cross-legged, staring out at the cloudy green water so calm that Ah Meng wondered if the fish were sleeping. He sat down next to Ling, getting as close as he could.
He felt the girl place her head on his shoulder. His heart started going like a motor. He knew there was no way she couldn’t feel that and the thought made him blush again. He draped his right hand around her shoulder, pulling her closer, shutting his eyes to photograph the feeling.