Just as she was about to leave, a young man began walking right toward her. He wore a black T-shirt with faded jeans and his slightly tinted glasses partially masked his pockmarked face. She wondered if he was one of the locals who liked to pick up foreign girls.
“Hello,” he said, extending his hand even before he reached her. Though surprised, she took it. His handshake was practiced and firm. “Terrible thing that happened here, yah?”
“The drowning? Yah.” She was cautious. It was hard to remember when she last had a conversation with a local, instead of just replying to orders.
“So many... I think I’ve seen you here a few times before. Have you noticed anything strange?”
“No. It’s very peaceful here. Maybe those people who come here to kill themselves just want some peace as well,” she said.
“That’s a nice way to look at it. But not if you’re wearing red. She wanted revenge.”
They talked a bit more — she told him she was a maid and that even though her employers were away for two weeks, she cleaned every inch of the house each day. He introduced himself as Simon, a manager in a logistics company.
“I see. Hey, since you’re a maid, are you open to jobs outside of your place? How about you come clean my house for me? I had a cleaner but she hasn’t turned up and I’m bad with household tools. I destroyed a painting with a vacuum cleaner.”
Natalia didn’t find the joke funny, but she sensed an opportunity and laughed.
“I’ll pay well; maybe $500 for a day’s work? It’s embarrassingly dirty now. Those bloody midges on the windowsill... wipe them off once and they always come back.”
Five hundred was a lot of money; more than a month’s pay. With that kind of cash, Natalia could pay her agent back and still have money left to send home. She remembered what a friend once said: in Singapore you have to find what other people need, and grab every opportunity that comes along.
“Is the place big?”
“No. It’s a condo — you know how they are. So small. Two bedrooms.”
He sounded sincere so she agreed. She passed him her phone and he typed in his number and wrote his home address on the back of a business card.
“It’s good fortune that we met,” he said, waving goodbye before disappearing down the trail.
The next morning, Natalia packed up some rags and detergent. Simon’s condo was only about five stops away — on the bus, she kept a careful count of every stop.
His condominium building turned out to be flesh pink with green ionic pillars, reminding Natalia of a birthday cake melting in the sun. The Indian security guard eyed her suspiciously and told her to sign in, then didn’t let her up until Simon came to fetch her from the guard post.
This time, Simon looked businesslike, wearing a yellow long-sleeved shirt with black pants. Natalia showed him the detergent she brought and asked if it smelled okay. He said it was fine but that he had his own supplies. “I’m not that incompetent, you know.”
The apartment was oddly shaped, with triangular rooms. Porcelain statues of Chinese gods were the only decoration. Simon told her not to bother washing the large windows. “Don’t want an incident of you falling out,” he said, laughing as he brought out a green apron and latex gloves. “Don’t want you to get dirty.”
Natalia heard a radio blaring in Hokkien from one of the rooms.
“My father is inside,” Simon said, waving her over for a peek. An old man sat on a wheelchair facing the wall; heavy brown curtains covered two windows. “Don’t worry about him. He had a stroke so he doesn’t talk much. Don’t bother washing his room.” He closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar.
Simon handed her $250 in neatly folded bills and told her he would give her the rest that evening. As he left for work, he asked her to call him if she had any problems. She carefully stuffed the money in her small handbag the moment he left.
Natalia got to work right away, sweeping the floor. She thought she heard the old man grunt several times and rattle his wheelchair. Because his room door was ajar, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was being watched. This made her quicken her pace — perhaps his father was there to make sure she did a good job and didn’t run off with something valuable? She wanted the remaining $250 and wasn’t going to chance it. And so she scrubbed at the mold in the bathroom until her arms ached. When the lemony detergent started to make her gag, she tied a kerchief over her face. She heard the drone of Hokkien radio in the background wherever she went.
Simon messaged her at two, asking how it was going. When she replied that all was fine, he told her to stay for dinner. She hesitated a little, wondering if this was odd. But then she thought that perhaps she could suggest cleaning for him one Sunday a month; it seemed like he needed it and was generous. More money was always helpful.
By five she had finished with the master bedroom and kitchen. Outside, a storm had descended. It made the radio echo worse, and Natalia felt as if she were in a cave. She was taking a sip from the kitchen tap when she heard grunting from the old man’s room. She approached, gently knocking on the door. Simon’s father lifted his head to stare and grunt, then turned back to the radio.
She had not touched his room. But now she wondered if she should clean it. Maybe that would persuade Simon to ask her back.
So she put on her gloves and worked around him as best she could, opening the window slightly to air out the room’s staleness and the smell of urine coming from the bedsheets. Looking for fresh sheets in a drawer, she came across a crumpled green dress. She left it where it was; maybe Simon had a sister.
On the dresser, there was a black-and-white photo of a family; a couple with a boy who could only be Simon right in front of them. From the way they each held one of his shoulders, she could tell he had been the main focus of the parents. So much hope placed in him — did he manage to satisfy them?
Finally, she found a plain gray sheet and set to work on the bed. The old man’s wheelchair squeaked and his breathing became more pronounced.
The room was relatively clean but she decided to sweep and mop anyway. The old man was more mobile than she thought; he moved the wheelchair away when she needed to mop beneath him. There was an odd expression in his eyes as she got close — though she did not dare look directly at him.
When Simon returned, he was surprised she had cleaned his father’s room. “I thought I told you to leave him alone.”
“It’s okay, sir. I had time.”
She thought she detected a flash of anger in his face but his smile quickly returned. Why would he be angry? She regretted cleaning the room now. She thought he would be grateful, not mad.
Simon set out Styrofoam cartons of food on the table and opened them, showing her the duck rice he’d bought. Then he ran his thumb along the table’s wooden surface and examined it.
“Clean. Very clean,” he said. “I’ll give you the $250 after dinner.”
She had been hoping to leave quickly and felt uneasy, but said nothing. The smell of hot salty duck was making her hungry — the old man as well, as she heard him coming out of his room for dinner, his wheelchair sounding like metal spoons rubbing against each other.
Simon started to dish out the rice on plates that she had just washed. She took out spoons and forks and placed them on the table. She offered to help but he told her to sit down; there was an edge in his voice. He sat close to her and they faced his father, as if they were having a meeting.
“Why are you here, Natalia?” Simon asked.