(I wrote this story a few years back and the chinese version was published. It remains one of my favorite pieces as it felt like a Raymond Carver piece to me)
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I tapped my fingers on the dining table and looked at my watch.
Slightly annoyed by this single act of stupidity, I vented my frustration on Wanjun and asked her irritably, “Is she ever going to come? I think she might have forgotten about the whole thing. Let’s just have dinner now and go back.”
Wanjun shrugged off my comments without looking up from her fingernails, “Give her some more time. She is coming, just late, that’s all. She told me last week that she would make it, and she is not someone who forgets easily. Stop being so impatient, nobody insisted that you had to be here. You were the one who insisted on coming here. If you don’t feel like waiting, you can always leave, no one is stopping you.”
“I did not say that I was about to leave,” I answered back irritably, knowing that my girlfriend was correct. Personally, this whole thing felt very outlandish to me, waiting in a restaurant for the mother of my girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend, who for some imperceptible reasons wanted to meet her up for a chat. Come to think of it, I did not know whose behaviour was more bizarre, the mother wanting to meet Wanjun up years after she broke up with her son, or me wanting to accompany her to meet the mother of her ex-boyfriend. It just did not seem like the rational things that one would do. Okay, perhaps I’ve wanted to tag along so as to make sure that nothing goes awry, but still I could not think of any reasons that could have persuaded the mother to want to meet Wanjun. I ran through the possible scenarios and reasons that could have lead to this meeting. Perhaps the ex-boyfriend wanted reconciliation with Wanjun, and thus asked his mother to be the messenger? Nah, this seemed highly unlikely. He could have met Wanjun himself, and besides, it had been so many years. Furthermore, the mother explicitly told Wanjun that she wanted to meet her on a personal basis, and not on her son’s behalf. Perhaps the ex-boyfriend was getting married and the mother wanted to invite Wanjun to his wedding? However, if that was the case, it should have been the boyfriend who had wanted to meet Wanjun, not her mother, right? And as far as I knew, they had not been keeping in contact since they broke up, so if he was getting married, why would he have wanted to invite Wanjun out of the blue? Perhaps the ex-boyfriend was involved in some sinister crime, and needed an alibi to testify for him? It made sense. He’s probably been detained by the police, and therefore his mother had to be the messenger to relay the message. Damn, I must have been watching too much crime shows on television lately.
In order to kill my boredom, I kept fiddling with the napkin and utensils that were laid out on the table. Wanjun was still looking nonchalantly at her fingernails, probably thinking about a nail polish that she wanted to buy. I was actually quite surprised that she could remain quite calm in the face of the imminent meeting. Wasn’t she worried at all that her ex-boyfriend could turn up unexpectedly? From my limited knowledge of their relationship, I knew they broke up in an acrimonious fashion. That asshole had even threatened to rape her when he knew that there was no way that he could salvage the relationship. At least this was what Wanjun told me a few years back.
“Won’t this make the meeting a bit weird?” I remembered asking her yesterday night about the possibility of the ex-boyfriend turning up unexpectedly.
“Nah, it was Shunyu whom ended badly with me, not his mother. She had always been kind to me when I was with Shunyu. Besides, she did not know about him threatening to rape me and stuff like that,” Wanjun shrugged off my insidious attempts at dissuading her not to go ahead with the meeting.
I was still thinking about the conversation between Wanjun and me the previous night when Shunyu’s mother arrived silently beside the table. I was trying to evaluate why my strategy of persuading Wanjun to avoid this meeting had failed and what I should have really said, when I looked up and saw this wizened lady in her late fifties standing beside the table. She was carrying two plastic bags in one hand and an umbrella in another, the typical accessories that one might expect from a lady in her late fifties. Wearing a bright yellow floral patterned dress with an old fashioned looking pair of glasses, she looked exactly the way I had imagined her to be. I wondered if this applied to her son too, the ex-boyfriend of Wanjun of whom I heard but had never seen.
“I’m so sorry, there was a traffic jam. Did you wait long?” she sounded apologetic.
Oh yeah, I thought, traffic jam, what a typical excuse.
“No, we just got here too,” Wanjun lied, flashing a smile at her, “allow me to introduce, Mrs Ng. This is Peisong, my boyfriend.”
“How do you do?” I rose up and extended my hand towards Mrs Ng, which she shook with much vigour and enthusiasm after hooking the handle of the umbrella she was carrying in her right arm onto the edge of the table.
“My, my, what a fine looking young man, you do have such good tastes, Wanjun.” She complimented.
“You flatter me,” I replied with a smile, retracting my hand and sitting down at the same time. Mrs Ng placed the plastic bags that she was carrying down by the side of the table and sat down next to Wanjun. The way she sat down reminded me of the way a hen sits on her eggs. She sat down slowly and meticulously, as a hen would to prevent breaking any eggs in the nest.
“So Mrs Ng, what would you like to have for dinner?” Wanjun asked Mrs Ng in a courteous voice that was unusual of her. Well, I’ve never remembered her talking to my mother in this way before.
“Oh, anything will do. I’m not fussy with food.” Mrs Ng replied in an equally polite tone as she flipped through the menus laid on the table, which I had almost memorized whilst waiting for her.
I motioned for the waiter to take our orders. I decided to have chicken chop, while Wanjun and Mrs Ng decided to have fried rice. The waiter took our orders with a sullen look on his face. I wondered if this had anything to do with the several times we had rejected his request for taking orders while Wanjun and I were still waiting for Mrs Ng. Or perhaps he was just having a bad day. Nevertheless, it could have been my imagination.
“So, Wanjun, how have you been?” Mrs Ng asked.
“Oh, fine. I’ve just completed my tertiary studies and am now looking for a job. How about you, Mrs Ng? How have you been lately?” Wanjun answered and kicked at my foot lightly under the table. I must have been showing one of my ‘oh-I’m-like-so-interested-in-this-conversation’ look again without myself being aware of it.
“Oh, fine, just passing my time now. I am still teaching in the same school, the one where you and Shunyu were studying.” Mrs Ng replied. I was looking at her face while she was talking, and while she was saying this sentence, I thought I’ve noticed a very strange expression on her face. It was an expression of nostalgia with a tinge of sadness. It was something like the kind of look one would wear when we speak of the distant and remote past. However, it did not register on her face long enough for me to decide whether I had really seen the expression or if it was just a figment of my imagination. Did I really see her lips curl slightly at the edges and her eyes turned glassy for a moment? Or was it because she was talking about a past that was inaccessible to me that I had the illusion that she looked nostalgic? I looked carefully at her again, but her face gave nothing away. Oh, well, I could just have been imagining things. The music playing in the background suddenly seemed familiar and I listened absorbedly to it, trying to catch the melody of the song.
“Oh, I teach in the same secondary school where Wanjun and my son used to study.” Mrs Ng explained to me, probably due to the fact that I was looking intently at her. She probably thought I was getting worked up from hearing her son’s name.
“Oh, I know that, Wanjun told me before.” I replied, while trying to search my memory for the name of the song. Like the purpose of this meeting, the name had eluded me.
“Oh, she has? She would have probably told you what a strict teacher I was.” Mrs Ng laughed at this self-admission.
“She was the discipline mistress.” Wanjun laughed along politely.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed.” I said politely, at the same time thinking to myself, so what if you knew your son had threatened to rape Wanjun? Would you have disciplined him? Report that asshole to the police?
The waiter came with our food while I was still thinking about what Mrs Ng would have done if she had knew about the atrocities of her son. The conversation died down quite a bit while the three of us started to consume our food, breaking occasionally into a few comments on the quality of the food being served. However, as the meal dragged on, it became obvious that I was out of place. The two ladies were having the occasion banter about the past while I helplessly attacked my food with my knife and fork. As Wanjun and Mrs Ng chitchatted with each other while they were eating whereas I devoured my chicken chop in silence, I finished my food before them. Waiting for them to finish up their meal, I ordered a cup of tea. The waiter still had the same sullen look on his face as he brought me my tea. I looked intently at Mrs Ng’s face as I sipped the cup of hot tea slowly. The strange look that I thought I had observed earlier did not resurface again, as she chatted jovially with Wanjun in between bites of her food. Looking at her face, I could not help but have a feeling of déjà vu. Have I seen her somewhere before? I searched my memories for familiar faces that might have coincided with the face that was in front of me. Teachers who had taught me? No, that was out. Besides, she mentioned that she stills teaches in the same school where I had never stepped foot in before. My mother’s friends? Nope, that was impossible. She would have recognized me. Was it in the newspapers or news on television that I have seen her before? Hmm, possibly, but which one? Nope, I can’t remember. Or was it just a false alarm of déjà vu? Sometimes these things happen, especially when one could not justify the purpose of one’s decision. Just like the name of the song that I was so sure I had heard before, but which still continued to elude me. Oh well, I suppose it didn’t really matter anyway.
When the two ladies had finally finished their food, both of them ordered a cup of coffee each. The look on the waiter’s face was getting worse as he brought along the two cups of coffees. I guess he must be thinking why we couldn’t have ordered all my cup of tea and the two cups of coffee all at once, for that would save him the trouble of walking two extra trips. Yeah, I was thinking about that to myself too, why couldn’t we?
The two ladies continued to chat jovially with one another about things and people that were common in their past while I sipped slowly at my tea, occasionally chipping in a comment or two and a few polite laughter into the conversation. I was getting bored, but was careful not to show it as I constantly reminded myself to wear an interested look on my face. How was I not to feel bored? Here I was, stuck in the middle on a trip down memory lane for the two ladies in front of me, where I neither knew anyone or events that were happening on the sides of that lane. Occasionally, a familiar name or two would crop up, and I would try comment on that particular person, only to find that either it was someone else with the same name, or I was telling something that the two ladies had already know. Interestingly though, their conversation did not include any trace of Shunyu, Wanjun’s ex-boyfriend and Mrs Ng’s son. Now that would be something that I would be interested in. I wondered what the reason was for the two ladies not to bring him up. Was it Wanjun was wary of the fact that I might bad mouth Shunyu about his threats to rape her in front of his mother, and it would make the whole situation very awkward? Or was it because Mrs Ng was mindful of my presence and decided not to say anything about Wanjun and Shunyu’s past relationship, fearing that I might not like it? Whatever the case, Shunyu’s name was not brought up in their conversation even once, as they chatted about almost everything under the sun, but not on the single person whom had brought a common link between them.
“You know what? Of all the girlfriends Shunyu had, I think you were the nicest of them all.”
My ears pricked up at the name of the person of which I was anticipating all night. Finally, they were getting into an area where I would be interested in. I glanced up from my cup of tea and looked eagerly at the two ladies. It was at this precise moment that I caught that same expression on Mrs Ng’s face again. The same poignant and nostalgic expression. I blinked my eyes and stared at her face again. It was gone.
“Oh, you flatter me, Mrs Ng, I’m sure Shunyu had better girlfriends after me.” Wanjun replied diplomatically.
“If only…”
Mrs Ng’s voice trailed off, after which she picked the conversation up on a totally different topic and angle. There was no more mention of her son, and her face did not show that expression again. I got back to my alternating acts of stirring my cup of tea, sipping it bit by bit and wearing the interested look on my face while chipping in a few comments or two. Bummer, this is going to be a long night, I thought.
The two ladies continued their conversation for another half an hour, before I looked at my watch and realised that the parking coupon that I had put was about to expire in ten minutes time. Thinking that this was a good opportunity to end my boredom and misery, I cleared my throat and spoke up, “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but my parking coupon is expiring soon. Would you ladies like to continue? If so, I shall hurry along to put on another piece of parking coupon while the two of you continue chatting here.”
Wanjun flashed a disapproving look at me. She had obviously seen through my ruse.
“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be necessary. I must be going off anyway, it is getting late.” Mrs Ng said as she picked up the two plastic bags that she had brought with her from the side of the table, where she had placed them earlier.
“Oh no, Mrs Ng, don’t go off, we still have so much to say to each other. It is still early.” Wanjun tried to persuade Mrs Ng to stay, while glaring at me. I’m sure that last part of her comment was meant for me.
“No, no, I’ve got to get going anyway, and besides, I have already taken much of your time.” Mrs Ng said as she placed the two plastic bags on the table, saying, “Wanjun, here is something that I would like you to have, as a gift from me.”
“Mrs Ng, you shouldn’t have.” Wanjun exclaimed.
“No, no, don’t you reject these gifts. Take them along with you. It is quite heavy and I won’t want to carry it on my way home.” Mrs Ng insisted.
I motioned for the bill while Wanjun reluctantly accepted Mrs Ng’s gifts. I took a glance at the contents of the plastic bags as I waited for the waiter to arrive with the bill. It was filled with biscuits and coffee satchels of exotic flavours, stuff you would expect a fifty something year old lady to be giving out as presents. However, there was something in those plastic bags that caught my eye. It was a photo frame with a picture of Wanjun and another guy, whom I presumed was Shunyu. Now why would she want to give such a present to Wanjun?
The waiter finally came with the bill. After much insistence from Wanjun and me, Mrs Ng accepted our offer to pay for her meal. The waiter was looking disinterested as all three of us insisted on footing the bill. He was probably just wishing that we get it over and done with so that he could clear the table.
As I left the restaurant holding Wanjun’s hand, I offered to drive Mrs Ng home.
“Oh, that would not be necessary. I won’t want to trouble you,” she said.
“It won’t be much of a trouble,” Wanjun said.
“No, really, I can manage. Besides, there is a bus service here that stops directly beneath my flat, so it is actually more convenient if I take that bus.” Mrs Ng said.
“Ok, if that is the case… anyway, it was a nice evening, hoped you enjoyed it. Hopefully we can have dinner some other time.” I said diplomatically.
“Yes, it was my pleasure. Well, look at the time, I have to get going now,” Mrs Ng said. Suddenly, her voice changed slightly as she looked to me earnestly and said almost pleadingly, “Would you please drive carefully?”
I was taken aback by her request, as this would be the kind of things a mother would say to a son, not to someone whom one did not know that well. I looked at her face and surely, there was that expression again, except this time there was less nostalgia and more sadness and mourning. Not knowing how to react, I stammered, “Err, ok, sure, I’ll drive carefully.”
“You take care, Mrs Ng.” Wanjun said.
“You take care too.”
As I was walking towards the car with Wanjun, I could not help but thought about the strange request that Mrs Ng had made. What was that suppose to mean anyway? I had wanted to discuss this with Wanjun, but found that she was wearing the same expression that Mrs Ng had worn as she looked briefly at the photo frame that was in the plastic bag, which she held in her hands now. Now what was this all about? I’ve decided that this would be a bad time for me even to utter a sound, so I just walked silently with her towards the place where my car was parked. As I was slowly turning the key in the ignition, I suddenly remembered the name of the song that I had heard playing in the restaurant. It was a song by the Beatles, called “In My Life”. I wanted to hum out the tune of the song again, to celebrate the mini triumph over my elusive memory, but somehow I just could not bring myself to do it. Wanjun’s silence had probably infected me like a contagious disease, and somehow I feared that if I had broken this silence, I would have been doing something that was sacrilegious.
I still had not said a word to Wanjun as I drove my car out of the car park. She wasn’t looking at the photo frame anymore, but she had this tired expression on her face that suggested that she did not want to discuss anything with me. Silently, I drove the car along the route that would take Wanjun back home. The streetlights flooded the night with an eerie yellow as I drove along the expressway. As I stepped on the accelerator and overtook a bus on the expressway, Wanjun suddenly turned towards me and whispered almost inaudibly, “Drive carefully, please?”
I did not reply Wanjun, but instead kept my foot on the accelerator paddle and watched the needle on the speedometer turned slowly towards the right. I could hear the roaring of the engines as the car switched automatically to a higher gear. Although the streetlights that were beside the expressway flashed past the corner of my eyes at a faster rate, I was sure that the rate of my heartbeat had remained the same, or had even slowed down. Paradoxically, time seemed to stand still inside the accelerating car as I refused to relinquish my foot off the accelerator paddle. I could almost hear myself breathing calmly. The car was still accelerating along the expressway when I heard Wanjun asking me to drive carefully again.
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