My Secret

I write this story to you from my barely furnished two windowed room where I await the one thing I hold dearest to me. The story I am writing to you is about my deepest and darkest secret. So here goes.

“An-Mei! Where are you hiding now?” I called out. It was a hot sweltering afternoon. My little An-Mei was turning 7 that year and this was going to be her first time going to school. It wasn’t easy raising a 7-year-old daughter single-handedly. I had been widowed for 3 years. My husband died in a car crash when An-Mei was only 4. I had gone through a tough period. Some psychologists thought I’d never pull out of the “world” I was in after the accident but I proved them wrong all for the sake of my only daughter.

I was afraid for her. Not because she was a shy girl who needed a little more than a push to start mixing around but the fact that first days at school could be pretty tough especially in my case. But nonetheless, everyone had to face this sooner or later.

“An-Mei!! We’re going to be late!” I shouted out as I combed the house. “If you don’t come out now, you won’t get the coconut candy I promised you after school!”

Slowly, a little shiny black head popped out from the closet and looked at me with puppy dog eyes begging me not to bring her to her new primary school.

“Mama, please don’t make me go! I don’t want to go to school. Tommy from across the street said that in school, the teachers make you sit there for a long time and listen to them talk. I don’t want to do that, Mama.” An-Mei told me.

“Don’t listen to that Tommy. He’s just trying to scare you. It will be fun. You’ll see.” I tried consoling her. She reluctantly obliged and we set off to her new school.

We had to wait in line for about half an hour before I could finally register An-Mei in that school. As I stood there filling in the forms, I noticed An-Mei fidgeting with the ends of her skirt. I patted her head and said it would be just fine all the time praying that hers would be different from mine. Then the moment came; it was time for me to let An-Mei in to a different life: schooling life. Painful as it may be to a mother to force her child to do something she does not like, it was even more painful having to let go of An-Mei. She squealed and didn’t want to let go. I had to resort to bribing her in the end.

The hours of the clock seemed to crawl by. I never stopped wondering how An-Mei was doing in her new environment. I remember my first day in my new school. I was teased and teased and made fun of. I remember the pelts of laughter and the shrill of those horrid words. “Alien! Alien!” It was to be heard during recess and lunch breaks. It was all because of my name. The name I had grown to hate until my mother decided to change it. An-Mei was lucky. Very lucky not having to go through that. That was my little secret and it would remain as skeletons hanging in my closet till the day I die, at least I hoped it would. The day finally came. The day I had dreaded since the day An-Mei went to school. My fears were confirmed and the worst was here to happen.

“Mama, who’s Ling I-Ching?” An-Mei asked me. The name sent shivers down my spine. My only daughter had definitely said the name I detested to hear.

“Mama, who’s he?” An-Mei’s voice broke through the deafening silence. I could not speak. It was too painful to even think about it. “Mama…” her voice trailed off.

“Why do you bring that name up?” I finally managed to splutter up.

“I was in the library doing some reading up when I overheard two Mandarin speaking old ladies mention your name and his. Who is he?” An-Mei pestered me.

“He is your… grandfather. My father.” I said. How could I deny the truth from this innocent and fragile creature? The ugly truth had to come out although it could break her into a million pieces. I hoped against hope that she had more integrity than I thought she had.

“An-Mei, that was all a lie. I’ve been living a lie for quite some time now. There’s a lot you don’t know about me and my roots in China. Your father also doesn’t know. Ling I-Ching, your maternal grandfather was a sorry excuse of a man. He used to get drunk and beat us up every night – your grandmother, my siblings and me. We had to work hard in the fields to earn money everyday – money, which would ultimately be squandered on booze. But nonetheless, we had to eat. We led a horrid life. I used to wish I had not been born at all and at times, I attempted to kill myself. But, I knew I could never do it for it would not solve anything and it would break my mother’s heart further.” I paused for a while checking on my daughter, her eyes staring intently at me trying to anticipate how I was going to continue. “Maybe I should not continue.” I told her.

“No, please. Go on.” she said as she sat down in front of me. “This kind of life went on for more than 10 years. By the time I was 9, I had had enough. As I was the eldest in the family, I knew I had to do something. So, one night, with a “parang” in my hand, I awaited his “grand arrival”. I had designated my second brother to bundle the younger ones and wait for me at the harbour with my mother. When I heard him coming down the street rattling off his usual vulgar vocabulary, I tightened my grip on the parang. The adrenaline rush was strong. I could hear my heart pumping two times faster than the normal beat. The feeling of taking revenge on this sorry excuse of a person was blissful. I remember the moment the parang struck his head. Blood splattered all over the place. The only thing it didn’t touch were my garments. When reality finally caught up with me, I began to tremble. Shocked and scared as I was, I dropped the parang and made a dash for it.” An-Mei’s face had turned from intent to shocked. I wanted to stop then but I knew she had to know.

“We packed ourselves in goods compartment on board the next ship that left the country. And it just so happened the ship came to Penang. My mother made us promise we would put this incident behind us and never bring it up again. Ever. When we reached the harbour, the sailors started unloading the goods. It was then that we began to panic. What if they reported us? What happens then? But my mother had a master plan. She had noticed another door out of the ship that was not being used. We quickly ran out through that door. We managed to escape from the customs and police officers. We were free at last! Free from your grandfather free from everything else that we had been burdened with. We could finally start afresh and enjoy life. We managed to put up in an old abandoned shack. My mother took up a job as an “ah-sam” through the backdoors. I’d say we lived rather comfortably. But I remember my schoolmates thinking of me as different. I was the only yellow-skinned person in the whole form and someone sniffed out that I was an “alien” – an illegal immigrant. I was helpless and just lived with it. When my mother heard of it, she decided we were stable enough and should really start afresh with a new name a new background and everything else. So, she moved us in to a small little house that she bought with the money she had earned. We changed schools and she also changed all our names so we would sound and look like one of the locals. That didn’t take much work. Just the papers and all. It’s incredible what you can do with just a little money. It took about 5 years to settle everything and we could finally get on with our lives.”

“How could you have killed your own father?” That was the only question An-Mei wanted to ask me.

I put my hand on her arm and tried explaining to her. “You have to look at it from my point of view. If I hadn’t, I would not be here today. I would probably have died along with all my other siblings.” She pulled her arm away and started pacing the room.

“I can’t believe it!! My mother’s a murderess!!” An-Mei spoke to herself.

“An-Mei…”

“A MURDERESS!!! And not killing a stranger but her own father!!” An-Mei burst out.

“An-Mei…” That was it for me. I knew this was the end. An-Mei wanted nothing to do with me anymore. Having lost a husband was enough. Having to lose an only child was impossible for me. My mind could not take it anymore. After all the headaches and heartaches, my mind finally snapped.

And so, here I am enjoying free food and lodging at the national asylum. It is not so bad here at all. But I am still waiting for my dearest An-Mei. I know she will understand why I did what I did someday. But for the moment, I shall stick to writing my little stories.

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