At the Mersing stop, another eight minutes and a stop in between later, the Muslim woman, still holding on to Mariko’s hand, raised it and pressed it against her cheek, smiling at us. She got up and releasing Mariko’s hand softly, walked out of the door. We were alone in the Lev. I put my arms around Mariko and she curled up into me. I held her tight.
The blipping white ball that signified the Lev moved closer to the next red square on the line that was displayed on the end wall indicating our progress. Kuantan, our stop, was next and I patted Mariko on the back to let her know, rising at the same time. I stumbled as the rapid deceleration of the Lev caught me off balance and Mariko, still sitting, steadied me. The Lev stopped, the doors beeped and hissed open and we got off on to the platform. Directional lights, prompted by the map in my Devstick, led the way to a walky ten meters further down the platform. We got on the walky hand in hand and silently rode up to ground level.
As we reached ground level Mariko said, shaking her head from side to side, “I can’t understand the mentality of someone who could do such a thing. What could possibly be worth that kind of action? What do they want with this senseless killing? It’s just barbaric. I don’t understand it.” Her voice choked as she said this and I stopped, gathering her in a hug, pulling her tight to me.
Stroking her hair, I said, “They’ll catch them, whoever they are, they’ll catch them and life will return to normal. This is an aberration, a throwback. This isn’t us.”
“I hope you’re right. I pray you are,” she said into the cashmere outer top I was wearing. She pulled free of me and wiped her face with her hands. Forcing a smile, she shook her head and had to wipe away another tear. I smiled at her trying to convey that I felt the same, and she sniffed loudly and said, “Come on. Let’s go find this place.”
The Kuantan Lev port exited onto a main pedestrian street, behind which a Travway ran. The town was spread out along this street with a pedestrian street on each side and two four-lane Travways in the middle. Taxis, private vehicles and EVTours waited on the Travway side. I took out my Devstick and highlighted my profile for Siti Merican, the Malaysian realtor we had contacted mid week. Across the street a woman standing next to a white Toyota Terra Cruiser that had seen better days waved her arm at us and we crossed the street to her.
Siti was about one hundred and sixty-five cents tall, slim and with a big smile showing off her white teeth. She gave us a wai and we waied back, smiling.
“You guys made good time. Was the trip up smooth?”
I exchanged a quick glance with Mariko and an understanding passed between us not to share the terrible news. I said, “Yes, it was fine,” and smiled in return.
Siti pulled open the rear door and we climbed into the back seat as she climbed into the front, saying, “I know it is a little warm but I thought we’d drive with the top down. What do you think?”
“That would be great,” Mariko said as she scooted her backside over the seat. I climbed in after her and pulled the door shut while the roof of the terra folded itself behind us. Siti pulled out into early evening traffic on the Travway. The inside lane that we were in was a snarled mess of traffic. Old long-haulers crawled by in the next lane as three-wheeled tuk-tuks, motorcycles and bicycles zipped in and out of the slow moving traffic. There were no maglev tracks here and the dust from the dirt roads leading off the main Travway hung heavy in the air. Siti drove confidently in the bustling evening traffic and soon took a left turn that, within fifty meters, dropped the noise level to the sound of the rubber tires of the Terra bumping over the dirt road we were traveling on. Siti talked over her shoulder the whole time, giving us a run down on the locality.
“It takes about twenty minutes to reach Sisik from Kuantan — the road is just a dirt road and the locals want it to stay that way. They’re afraid that if the roads are better then the area will see more development and they like the old lifestyle. The schools are good though and even in Sisik we have a good online connection most of the time. There is only one shop in Sisik but it has most of the basics that you would need. Most of us go to Kuantan or catch the Lev to New Singapore or Kuala Lumpur if we want to shop for anything other than food and toiletries.”
The jungle closed in quickly as the sun dropped out of view behind the trees and Siti turned on the lights of the Terra as we bumped our way east. Driving quickly and confidently, the fifteen kilom distance between the town of Kuantan and Sisik was covered quickly. The dirt road we were on narrowed to a track that was filled by the Terra and then turned sharply left as the jungle on our right-hand side was replaced with a view of the South China Sea at dusk.
Siti drove on for another couple of hundred meters and then pulled over beside a small light blue building with a huge deck running around the outside covered by the roof. A white sign with red lettering written in Malay had an image of a fish and a shrimp on it. Hanging off the roof was what looked like an old brown parachute acting as an awning, billowing in the light breeze that came off the ocean fifty meters away. Underneath this awning were a mixture of blue and red metal tables and plastic chairs set in the sand.
Siti got down from the Terra and we followed her as she walked up onto the deck surrounding the restaurant. It turned out to be the house of the owner of the land and he approached us after swinging his legs off the hammock he had been lying in on the deck facing the sea.
“Welcome to Sisik. My name is Abdul Haqq,” said the man, who was wearing a sarong and nothing else. He looked to be in his sixties, the grey hair on his head matching the few sparse grey hairs on his chest as he walked towards me his hands lifted in a wai.
I waied him back, as did Mariko, and said, “Hi. My name’s Jonah and this is Mariko.” Mariko smiled at him.
“Come, come,” said Abdul, moving his hand in a small downward wave to indicate that we should follow him. “We have to hurry because night falls very quickly and we only have maybe twenty mins before it will be completely dark.”
He walked around to the front of the deck and down the stairs that led to the beach and we followed him down the shoreline, heading south. The beach was about fifty meters wide at its widest point and narrowed sometimes to just twenty as the jungle pushed its way towards the sea. The only sounds were our feet scuffling the sand, cicadas trilling their mating calls and the palms brushing softly against each other in the slight breeze. There wasn’t a wave to be seen and the ocean was devoid of life for all the movement it displayed.
As soon as I saw the house, I knew that I’d buy it. It had nothing to do with the house, it was the location. A bluff of steep-sided headland, dark in the rapidly failing light, rose in front us, and off to our right was the house. The building seemed to be losing the battle against the encroaching jungle and one wall had tropical vegetation pressed up against it.
Abdul smiled at me and lifted his hand to show the way, saying, “Be careful as you come up the step. The wood has rotted and I am afraid that I have been too busy to replace it yet.”
I wondered if he meant too busy sleeping in the hammock and glanced at him. A twinkle in his eye and the wrinkles gathering made me suspect that he knew what I was thinking but I just smiled and gingerly made my way up the steps to stand on the deck that surrounded the house.
The building was stand-alone and badly run down. It had no Travway leading to it and was only forty meters from the sea, white sand covering the distance between. The rear of the house faced the sea and had a large balcony running around the entire second floor. At the front was a garden full of flowers, reaching to the edge of a small patch of jungle through which was a path that led to the nearest Travway four hundred meters further on. I loved it.