A Different Sky (68 page)

‘There is the island of St John's, and see the waves on those rocks over there. There are many small tugs passing by and the men on them are waving to us.' Mei Lan pointed things out to Ah Siew, knowing these sights were no more than a blur to the old woman's faded eyes.

Ah Siew nodded and smiled her toothless smile, trying to imagine the scene Mei Lan described. She gripped the rail, feeling the smooth wood under her hands, smelling the abrasive sea air. She could hear the water rushing by far below as the ship gathered speed. The wind blew on her face and tunnelled into her ears, just as it had when she stood on that ship long ago. The deck had been crowded with ragged immigrants, without protection from the elements. At that time, looking out at the endless burnished sea and looking down at the churning foam in the wake of the ship, Ah Siew could forget the miserable conditions in which she travelled. She had spent many hours marvelling at the great space of the world and the immeasurable distances that could be journeyed. As they drifted towards the horizon she had wondered what lay waiting beyond it for her. Now her story
was told, and nothing more waited ahead but that final great journey that was hidden from them all. When Ah Siew looked back over her life, she saw many things to be thankful for; nothing really bad had happened and there had always been her ‘sisters' and Mei Lan; there was nothing she found to regret. This, in her judgement, was a great thing to say at the end of a life. There was no one she knew in the House of Lim who could say they had no regrets.

Ah Siew could feel a familiar roll beneath her feet. So much was coming back to her. Even in a bad swell, she remembered, she had become adept at remaining on her feet and had not vomited up precious rice and noodles. Now again there was the rushing of the sea as it swished by beneath her. She looked down over the rail, straining to see the foamy white wake of the ship. Mei Lan put an arm about the old woman's shoulders and Ah Siew looked up and smiled, happiness clear on her face.

‘It is just like I remember. We sailed over the horizon not knowing what we would find.' Ah Siew's memory once awakened could not be staunched, and she grew more and more excited. Mei Lan listened and stared into the distance, and felt the great ocean trying to heal her. She had lived too long in a halfway place; it was time now to take back her life, find a way to return from the past. Howard's fierce belief that he could remake her had begun the convoluted process of renewal. It was he who was willing her up through a labyrinth of dark passages towards, not the crack of light she had always feared would vanish as she reached it, but a whole open sky. And she realised now she loved him for this, for the faith in her that would not die, and would make her whole again.

As she thought these thoughts she became aware of a small sobbing noise and turning, saw a child of three or four standing alone nearby on the deck. Clearly, the child was lost and Mei Lan stepped forward to help her. Almost immediately, she spotted the mother hurrying forward, and led the girl by the hand towards her.

As Mei Lan turned away from her, Ah Siew gave a cry of excitement for, looking down from the rail of the junk, she saw a small boat coming towards her. It sailed forward with purpose and through her dim eyes she discovered, just as Mei Lan had said, that people were waving to her. It seemed beyond belief but, as the boat approached, she saw that Yong Gui, Ah Tim and Ah Pat stood there and behind
them she spotted Ah Thye and Ah Ooi. They were waving wildly now and calling out her name.

‘Ah Siew! Ah Siew!'

‘I'm here. I'm here,' Ah Siew answered, tears of joy spilling down her cheeks as the tug approached.

‘Come and join us,' they called, reaching out towards her.

‘I'm coming,' she shouted, stretching out as far as she could, further and further, so that they could grasp her hands and pull her to safety amongst them.

Mei Lan handed the child to its mother and turned back to Ah Siew. She saw there was a commotion at the rail, people crowding excitedly several deep before it. There was much shouting, and some of the white-uniformed crew were running about the deck, holding red lifebelts. Mei Lan looked about wildly but could not see Ah Siew. With a cry, she pushed into the throng before the rail, but oblivious to her frantic shouts no one would let her through. A short distance away a flight of steps led to a higher level of the deck where the rail was bare of passengers. It seemed she ran for ever, but at last Mei Lan reached the steps and could see over the side of the junk. Far below the water foamed in runnels of crushed quartz as the ship cut through the waves, its great propeller beneath the red bow churning up a marble sea.

Ah Siew could be seen, her small monkey head sometimes rising and then falling beneath the foaming water. Her arms flailed about like a windmill as the boat moved forward, each moment drawing her nearer the thrashing propeller.

‘Ah Siew!' Mei Lan screamed.

‘Ah Siew!' The words were pulled from her like a rope she threw down to the desperate woman, but nothing now could reach Ah Siew. Once again the old woman sank under the waves. The lifebelts, thrown down to her from the boat, floated uselessly on the water, too far away for the old woman to reach. Lifeguards stood peering over the rail with the rest of the passengers. Nobody jumped to save Ah Siew.

‘Ah Siew.' There was never a time when Ah Siew had failed her, had not been mother and father, confessor and friend. Mei Lan did not hesitate, but jumped as the old woman surfaced again far below. Only she could reclaim Ah Siew from the depths of the sea and give her the breath of life again.

The salty wind blew against her face, her hair streamed out about her. Mei Lan spread her arms as if they were wings and knew with a surge of joy what it felt for a bird to fly. Both death and life flew in the wind beside her, and she knew in that instant that love itself was but a series of deaths and rebirths. She had run from life as she had run from death, ignoring the transformative power of each. Now, as she flew towards Ah Siew she knew at last that death had released her; life claimed her again with all its palpitating power. Pain was gone and she embraced emotion freely, living and dying with each breath she took, letting go of one to enter the other, a continuous cycle, as ancient as time. She remembered the phoenix with its great wings, and knew it too flew beside her. The joy was too much and she wanted him to know, and screamed out his name. The wind ripped it from her like a ragged streamer and blew it away behind her.

‘Howard!'

The water hit her like a board, harder than concrete, foaming and frothing. Nearby, Ah Siew was tossed about in the lather churned up by the noisy propeller. Mei Lan struggled forward to close her arms about the limp woman, feeling again the tiny birdlike body, seeing once more the blue rheumy eyes that perhaps already could watch her no more. She reached out for the red lifebelt bobbing on the water, to pull it over Ah Siew's head, but before she could grasp it a great hand seemed to take hold of them both, pulling them forcibly down into the bottomless depths of the ocean.

In the eagle's nest pavilion beneath a green fluted roof Howard became aware of a disturbance below and peered over the head of a small gilded lion on to the lower deck. People milled about the rail where he had left Mei Lan; he heard a confusion of screaming and shouting. Although he was unsure of what was happening, a sick dread already filled him. The vessel had slowed now and almost stopped. As he watched, two crewmen jumped into the sea where red lifebelts bobbed about on the swell. As the ship slowed, the water no longer bubbled in feverish ferment but quietened like an animal that had suddenly lost its roar. Quiescent now, it offered up meekly in a bloody halo the smashed bodies it had so voraciously claimed. Howard looked down in horror.

‘Mei Lan!' he screamed, starting down the steep companionway.
When at last they pulled Mei Lan aboard the junk, he clasped her wet body to him, letting no one touch her. He was sure there was still a pulse. He pressed down on her ribs as he had been taught so long ago in first aid lessons at Air Raid Precaution, willing life into her, willing his breath to awaken her. Suddenly, he felt the quiver of energy returning. She gave a sob and the briny ocean spewed up from inside her, letting her free.

Mei Lan had escaped the blades of the vicious propeller, but Ah Siew's mangled body was quickly covered with a sheet of canvas. Howard cradled Mei Lan in his arms as she sobbed. All that could be seen of Ah Siew was an arm flung out clear of the canvas; her wrist, encircled by the jade bangle, lay on the smooth wooden deck. People stood around in a silent circle. Howard's shirt was soaked from Mei Lan's dripping body. Her hair hung over his arm, running with water like the weeds he remembered in the canal so long ago when they had stalked crayfish.

F
ROM THE MORNING IT
had been overcast and the weather was on the rise, a hood of dark cloud advancing across the sky. It was hoped by everyone that it would not rain at the rally. Walking along the side of Kallang airfield Howard saw that already an enormous crowd had gathered, although it was not yet three o'clock. There was a holiday atmosphere, a few women and even some children could be seen, as if the occasion was a family outing; people carried umbrellas and looked anxiously at the sky. Ice-cream vendors pedalled about on bicycles calling out their wares, lifting the lid of iceboxes to produce mounded strawberry cones. Hawkers of noodles, tea and glutinous rice cakes were everywhere. A large audience surrounded a man with a troupe of performing monkeys in blue jackets with gold epaulettes. A van selling soft drinks and shaved ice frappé did a brisk business, as did a seller of home-made lemonade with a pushcart of earthen-ware jars. Mei Lan had insisted she would meet him at the rally, but surveying the growing crowd Howard was uncertain that this was the right decision, but he had no way now of getting in touch with her.

As he stepped on to the field the excitement of the crowd surrounded him. Lightning flashed suddenly across the sky, followed by a distant roll of thunder. He looked up at the darkening clouds and then towards the stage, where sound engineers were busy setting up microphones, and was surprised to see that a flimsy
wayang
platform had been erected for the meeting. He had expected a more substantial construction since Marshall was so intent on impressing the visiting British MPs who had been invited to witness the rally. None of the arrangements were Howard's responsibility but he thought it a pity not to have a structure with more panache, or at least the pomp of bunting.

Howard made his way to the lemonade cart and bought a heavily sugared drink. Near the cart, a group of young men were unfurling a massive banner, having carried the long supporting poles to the
field on their shoulders. He stood beside them, sipping his drink, watching with interest as the banner was unrolled to reveal a crude drawing of a barbed wire fence and a hand uprooting a withered tree.
Kami Mahu Merdeka
.
We Want Merdeka
was written across it in both English and Malay. Nearby, another huge banner had been unfurled depicting men of the three Singapore races, Indian, Chinese and Malay, in a clenched-fist salute beneath the logo of the People's Action Party. Written upon it was that one word:
Merdeka
.
Merdeka
read another banner being launched into the air on a phalanx of bright balloons.
Merdeka. Merdeka
. Everywhere Howard looked the word was scrawled again and again. Marshall would be pleased, he thought.

The rally was the culmination of what Marshall called
Merdeka
Week. Since his first day in office the Chief Minister had hammered away at the things he considered important; a new constitution to give the colony immediate independence and the long-desired merger with the Federation of Malaya without which, economically and politically, Singapore could not survive. Soon after the rally, Marshall planned to take an all-party delegation to London to pressure the British Government to consider the issue of Singapore's independence.

‘It must be an all-party delegation because this is no longer the game of politics so much as the business of birthing a nation,' Marshall insisted.

As a preliminary to this visit, an ebullient Chief Minister had invited a parliamentary delegation of six British Members of Parliament to witness first hand the Singapore people's wish for freedom. The
Merdeka
rally had been arranged to showcase the nation's feelings. Howard made his way through the thickening crowd towards the airport building and the stage beyond it, from where the rally would be addressed. Flags of the Federation of Malaya and various political parties hung limply from rickety poles, with no breeze to give them life. Police were in evidence everywhere, their black berets and khaki uniforms dotted amongst the crowd. The days leading up to this meeting had been fuelled by building emotion. During a hectic week, a petition of 167,259 signatures had been obtained demanding Independence. The petition was leather bound, for presentation to the British parliament, and Marshall hoped to return from England with the writ of freedom in his hand.

A cordon of police held back the excited crowd as Howard climbed
the steps on to the stage. There appeared to be trouble with the sound system. ‘It will soon be fixed,' the engineer promised as Howard strode forward to investigate. One of the organising team hurried to tell him it was estimated that a crowd of twenty thousand already covered the great expanse of the airfield.

The rows of chairs on the stage were filling up as VIPs began to arrive. As their cars drew up one after another, the waiting spectators surged forward against the barricade to see who was alighting from the vehicles. Howard searched anxiously amongst the arrivals for Mei Lan. Raj arrived in his new car and looked apprehensively at the rowdy spectators as he made his way up the few rickety steps to the stage. Seeing Howard, he gave a wave and walked towards him. He wore his usual white cotton suit and panama hat.