da blogs da thang

Continued from here.

For those of you who want to play “catch-up” here are the previous sections in sequence.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7
PART 8
PART 9
PART 10

They made their way through the orchard to the edge of the bamboo grove. On their way there Mina had picked some frangipani flowers and picked some limes. Upon reaching the bamboo grove she gathered the flowers in her hands. She turned to look at Kamal.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Kamal nodded. She tossed the flowers toward the bamboo not really knowing what to expect. She was relying totally on the instinct… an inkling that compelled her into these actions. Then it grew dark as if a cloud passed above blocking the illumination from the moon and when it brightened again seconds later a path appeared through the bamboo grove. It was the same path that had appeared to her 3 nights ago on that stormy early morning. Mina could not help but think now how that seemed like almost a different lifetime away.

They looked down the path. It led about 20 yards to a stream. She gave 2 of the limes to Kamal.

“Throw one in before you cross the stream… and then the other after you have crossed.”

Kamal asked. “What is beyond the stream?”

“I do not know… and I won’t until I cross it myself one day.” Came her calm reply. “This is as far as I can guide you.”

Kamal took a step toward the path then stopped turned and looked at Mina. “What will become of my wife and children?”

“Those are now the concerns for the living to deal with, Kamal. You just have to trust that they will.”

Mina watched him walk down the path, cross the stream and disappear into the jungle on the other side. She waited for the path to disappear but it remained open.

“You do realize that by guiding him here that you have accepted the responsibility for your lifetime.”

Mina turned around to see her grandmother holding 2 limes in her hands. “Nenek, I thought you had already…”

“How could I? Only the living can open the path. I never influenced your decisions in life… and it would have been unfair to begin in death.” She kissed Mina on her forehead. “Remember my child, unlike the lovers you have had… this is not something you can discard once you tire of it.”

A tear came to Mina’s eye. “I know Nenek… I know.” Mina felt her face flush as she looked at her grandmother. “But how did you… know?”

The old lady smiled sweetly. “You still carry the essence of your last lover with you.” She kissed Mina on her forehead again and began walking down the path.

“Nenek, I understand that the children are those who are yet to be born… but what is the music of the flute?”

The old lady looked at the bamboo around her and said in a very matter of fact manner. “It’s the bamboo singing.”

Mina said nothing thinking perhaps this was one of those things she was supposed to just accept.

But the old lady continued. “Some of them have snapped off at the top… and with the right breeze blowing over the hollows… they sing. Just like people… every grove has it’s own song.”

Mina watched as her grandmother crossed the stream to disappear into the jungle.
——————————————————————————–

Mina made her way toward the kitchen as the kettle whistled. She carefully took it off the fire and poured some into the teapot. She put it on a tray along with 2 cups and carried it up to the verandah.

“Miss Mina? Hello?”

“Ah, Mr. Osman! I have just made some tea for us. Please join me.”

Osman walked up and made himself comfortable in one of the 2 rattan chairs. He took a sip then smiled at Mina “It’s been over a year now that you’ve been here, hasn’t it? Are you still happy here?”

“Yes, yes I am.” Just then the cry of a baby came from inside the house. “Excuse me for a moment.”

“Of course.”

Mina walked in and soon the crying subsided and she returned to the verandah. “She was just awakened from her nap… she’s sleeping again.”

“How old is she now? 4 months?”

“She’ll be 5 months in 2 days.”

“She looks pretty just like you.”

“Thank you. Are you flirting with me Mr. Osman?”

Osman laughed. “Why should I stop now?” When the laughter stopped he continued. “And the father?”

Mina looked at him and smiled… but then decided to respond. “We have been talking. We have not made definite plans yet. He doesn’t understand this world… so, we’ll see.”

“I apologize for prying… “

“No, no… I would not have volunteered the information if I didn’t want you to know.” She paused then continued, “After all the help you have given me… I… I thought you should know.”

There was a quiet moment between the two as they sat on the verandah enjoying the sound of the birds sing in the afternoon sun. Mina then got up walked over to a basket and picked up 2 limes. She then placed them in Osman’s hands.

Osman looked at the fruit then up at her, “All details have been taken care of… my son will be the new arranger. It’s time for the next generation… your generation to guide the village”

Mina looked at the old man with affection. “I want to thank you for everything you have done for me. Without you Mr. Osman… I would still be looking for home. Now come… follow me.”

They walked through the orchard picking frangipani flowers on their way to the bamboo grove. As they approached it a slight breeze picked up and the bamboo began to sing it’s song.

EDIT: Well, that’s it… now back to real life and to cage up Morty. For those of you who have put up with this indulgence… thank you for taking this journey with me.

FYI… I will let it sit for a few weeks before I come back to it for edits and rewrites.

Continued from here.

You can leave your 5 word sentence starter with every completed section posted.
For those of you who want to play “catch-up” here are the previous sections in sequence.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7
PART 8
PART 9

A teapot with 2 cups sat on the table between the 2 rattan chairs on the verandah. Mina sitting in one of the chairs poured herself a cup, leaned back sipping the rich brew and soaked in the night air. There was a peaceful glow about her. The kind of glow a musician would feel just after completing a piece of music and knowing that it was accomplished without a single thought of technique. She heard a sound, turned her head to its direction, smiled slightly and put her finger to her lips. Just then the door to the verandah opened slightly.

“Over here, Sofia.” Mina gestured invitingly. “I have made some tea for us.”

The young widow walked out shyly. “I opened the front door after I changed into my clothes like you asked me to.”

“Thank you. Mr. Osman will be here soon. I wanted him to know that it was safe to enter now that our ‘women’s matters’ were complete.”

The both of them giggled at this. Sofia sat and took a sip from her cup. “I want to thank you again for doing this for me.”

“It is I who should thank you.” Replied Mina.

“For what?” Sofia looked surprised.

Mina smiled. “For wanting me to… and for being my first guest here since my return.”

“Are you lonely out here?”

“No. But it is nice to have someone to talk to for a change.”

Sofia took another sip but Mina noticed a sense of expectancy about her. Finally she she looked at Mina, “Miss Mina, can I talk frankly with you?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“It’s not that we are not allowed to mourn… but it is our custom not to show grief so that the souls of our loved ones can move on freely. I only cried once since… the accident… when they told me.” A tear began to well up in her eyes. “But then the fishermen on the boat told me what happened. They said that he died laughing. They said that everyone was scared… but he was laughing… then the wind blew hard and a wooden pully hit him in the head and he fell in.” She took another sip but now smiled. “He was always laughing. They said that he was laughing when he fell in. For that I am glad.”

“What kind of a man was he? “ Mina asked as she shot a glance to where Kamal now stood.

“He was a very handsome man. A very… passionate man.” Sofia blushed and giggled a little to herself, surprised by what she was revealing. “A very intelligent man too. You know he went to the city to study engineering… but he came back 2 years later and became a fisherman. I asked him once why he came back. He said that things were moving too fast in the country… especially in the city… that people were losing their ways and their souls in the name of progress. He said that in the city… even hospitality now had rules. He said that if this was progress he did not want to have anything to do with it. He did not see any reason to help the country lose its soul… so, he came back.”

“Was he a good father?”

“He was like one of the children. We are not rich… but I think that he spent more time playing with the few toys we bought them than they did.”

They both laughed. Sofia continued, “I know the children will be well cared for. I know that even if I do not remarry… the men in the village will be good examples for them… and they will know their father through those men.”

“They will be lucky. It’s a luxury I never had.”

“But didn’t your mother remarry?”

“When I was 5… my stepfather is a kind man but I never knew my father like your children will.”

“Perhaps if you stay… you can.” Mina looked at Sofia and smiled. “Forgive me Miss Mina. I think I said that for selfish purposes.”

“Sofia, it’s OK to be selfish sometimes.”

“If that is the case I wish…” Sofia took in a deep breath. “The last 2 days… there are so many things I wanted to say to him… I…”

“Sofia, I should go in and pack all the instruments in the bag. While I’m inside… you sit here and say everything you want to say to him.”

“Miss Mina… I will look silly…”

“No… no… when I was studying overseas I saw something similar being done in grief counseling. It really seemed to help those who lost someone. When I go inside… just pretend that he is sitting in this chair.” Mina rose to go throwing a look to Kamal and communicating with her eyes to sit in the chair she just vacated.

Sofia turned around. “What do I say? How…”

Kamal was now sitting in the chair. “There is a language that men and women share… lovers, partners… just speak in that language you shared together. Just call me when you are done.” As Mina left the verandah she saw recognition in Kamal’s eyes and a deep affection for the woman who sat in the chair in front of him.

For the next 15 minutes Mina sat on the front stoop watching the flying foxes begin to take flight in the night sky in search of ripe fruit. The faint smell of ripe durians floated in the air. Down the road, in the distance she saw the headlights of a car approach. It pulled up and Mr. Osman stepped out.

“Is she ready?” he asked.

“She will be.”

“Good. I saw her walking here earlier so I gave her a lift. A woman in her condition should not be walking alone at night… it’s almost 9 o’clock.”

“It is very kind of you to do this for her.”

“No, Miss Mina… the kindness is yours. She told me why she was coming here.”

Just then Sofia appeared at the doorway. “I’m ready Mr. Osman.” Sofia walked down and slipped on her footwear. “I am very grateful to you Miss Mina.”

“Did you take the medical charts you brought with you?” asked Mina.

“I have them in my bag… thank you.”

Osman opened the car door to the passenger side and Sofia stepped in. Mina stepped over and looked at Sofia through the window. “Remember, we want to keep your iron levels up. So lots of green leafy vegetables and petai sambal once every 2 weeks to clear your kidneys.”

Sofia smiled. “Miss Mina, I thought with all your western education you would be prescribing pills for me.”

“Sometimes Sofia… the old ways are the only ways. Please feel free to call on me if you have other concerns.”

This perked up Osman’s ears. “Can I assume by this that you have arrived at a decision?”

“I may have.” Mina watched the car rumble down the road back to the village.

“Now what do I do?” She turned to see Kamal standing at the foot of the stoop.

She looked at him, frowned a little then brightened. “Now we will take a walk to the bamboo grove at the back of the house.

continued here…

EDIT: Chances are pretty good that the final section will be posted sometime tomorrow (Saturday). I’ll try my darndest… unless it desides to take me on yet another ride… and it could be a pretty long section. In the meantime… think of a title and post it when the final section is up. Perhaps we’ll set something up to vote for the title.

Continued from here.

You can leave your 5 word sentence starter with every completed section posted.
For those of you who want to play “catch-up” here are the previous sections in sequence.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7
PART 8

They sat for the longest time on the verandah not saying anything. Every once in a while Mina would look over just to make sure her dead grandmother was actually sitting next to her. She had always thought that superstitions were quaint belief systems but never really subscribed to any. Yet, here was the ghost of her grandmother sitting not more than 5 feet away.

Finally Mina asked, “Why?”

“My child… “ replied her grandmother. “There are certain questions that have no answers that we are capable of understanding… and we just have to trust that it serves its purpose.”

“Then, this is my destiny?”

“Your destiny was to be born. How we use the gift of life is only dependent on the choices we make. And these choices will determine our enslavement or our freedom. This is why I never told you of this before. You had to be free to make your own way in this world and come to your own decisions.”

“I don’t know what to do, Nenek.”

Her grandmother smiled serenely at her. “Let your heart decide, my child. The head will often attempt to escape into the limitations of logic where none exists. This is why many say that the time of the old ways are done. It is true that we should move forward to evolve and improve our lives but in some cases the old ways will always be the only ways.”

“If I do accept this responsibility… how do I help someone like Kamal? Is there some kind of… procedure?”

“Only your complete acceptance will bestow that knowledge. Your instinct will be your guide and teacher. I am allowed to say that when a life is transformed suddenly or as a result of violence there exist a period of denial and confusion. They straddle both sides being neither here nor there and the awareness of the past is soon eroded away. It can often last a very long time. They see the living but are unseen by them. It is those cases where a little creativity is essential. ”The old lady looked out at the bamboo grove. “The sun will be up in a few hours, my child. Rest for now.”

“Nenek!” Mina called out as the old lady began to make her way out into the ochard. “Will I see you again?”

The old lady stopped, turned around and smiled. Mina detected sadness in her eyes just as she turned again and disappeared into the night.
—————————————————————————
It was the sound of hammering and the voices of men that woke Mina the next morning. The sun was already high as see peeked out the door of the back verandah to see 2 men from the village working away on erecting the roof of the kitchen.

She came out with a tray holding a pitcher of lime water with a sprinkle of salt and 2 glasses for the men. Most of the old roof had been torn down and lay in a pile on the side. Since the kitchen was unusable Mina decided to venture into the village to acquire lunch for everyone. She hopped on to the bicycle and headed out.

As she was about 100 yards away from the house she heard someone call to her.

“Hello! Hello!” She looked back to see Kamal on the side of the road. The sight of him just made her pump on the pedals harder in an effort to get away from him.

She got to the open market just in time. It was close to 11 and the local merchants were beginning to pack away their wares. She stopped by the old lady selling Nasi Lemak and ordered 5 packets. The old lady looked first in her wooden tub of coconut rice then checked to see if she had enough sambal, cucumber and billis to complete the order.

“Yes, I think I can make your 5, Miss Mina. You continue shopping before everything closes. When you come back I’ll have everything ready for you to take. I’ll even get some pieces of beef rendang Pak Awan for your order.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mak Cik… “

“Oh no… I insist! You are granting fortune by buying me out today… I must give you something in return.” The old lady then motioned Mina to step closer and whispered. “His rendang is not the best but they say his food is lucky when he whistles like he’s doing now. The last time it happened someone won the 4 digit lottery.”

“Very well, Mak Cik… thank you.” Mina then walked 2 stalls down and bought a papaya. As she waited for it to be bundled Osman strolled by.

“Miss Mina, I hope you are considering our… business proposition. If you do accept… I think you will agree from the evidence you saw that you will want for nothing.”

“I am still considering it, Mr. Osman.”

“Well, let us know what you decide then.” As he began walking away he looked around smiled and said, “On days like these I often wonder why some of the young ones leave here for the confusion and loneliness of the big city.”

She looked around and watched the unhurried life of the village saunter in front of her. There were the older ladies enjoying a game of mahjong on the verandah of a coffee shop. There was the fish monger sorting and icing the fresh catch for sale and the 2 vegetable farmers catching a short siesta under the shade of the banyan tree… everyone here so-existed in the village with a sense of place and purpose. As long as she could remember these scenes changed very little from the time she was a child. Mina pondered what Osman had said as she clumsily attempted to tie her bundles to the handlebar of the bicycle for the ride home.

“You can have this…“ Came a voice behind her. Mina looked up to see the widow offering up a basket to her. “It would make it easier for you to carry your food home.”

A pang of guilt emerged as reluctance but Mina gladly accepted the offer and took the basket. “Thank you… I will return it when I come back into the village tomorrow.”

“If you don’t find me here at the market… I only live around the corner… the second house with the blue steps. You can just leave it there.”

“I will.”

“I hope you do not mind if I ask you something.” The widow continued. Mina’s mounting unease was making her not want to engage in any extended conversation.

But she relented. “Yes, what is it?”

“I wanted to thank you for your kind medical advice yesterday at the kenduri. I went to the government clinic today but they didn’t seem to understand what I was saying. Maybe I got the terminology wrong. I was wondering perhaps if… “

“I will go to the clinic with you and explain…”

“No.” The widow’s face flushed a little by her own assertiveness. “Miss Mina… perhaps I am being too bold… but I was hoping you would consent to examining me yourself. You are a specialist in these matters. The doctor at the clinic is a GP… and a man.”

Mina understood perfectly the predicament of the young expectant mother but was reluctant to honor the request. “I do not have the right equipment here… the best I could do was to give you a general examination.”

“That would be enough.” Came the quick reply. “Just knowing that I was examined by an expert would put my mind at ease. Perhaps tomorrow when you return the basket… ”

“I cannot promise you anything because my schedule…”

“Of course. I understand. I know that you are leaving in a few days… but I just want to know. Only if you have time… you know where I live. I am sorry to have taken your time…”

“No, no… it was a pleasure talking with you. And thank you for the basket.”

Mina rode back with a little trepidation hoping against hope she would not see Kamal. Her luck held out as there was no sign of him on her entire ride back home. After lunch she went back into the house to continue her sorting and packing. After about an hour she walked out front to take a break and sat on the front stoop. She looked down the road to the village and saw someone walking toward her. It was Kamal looking forlorn and lost. She hurried back into the house to escape any more encounters with him.

Not looking where she was walking in a hurry, she tripped and fell. On the floor she looked up to see that it was the old doctor’s bag that once belonged to her grandmother. She picked herself up and looked out the front window. Down the road Kamal was sitting on the side of the road with is face in his hands.

“Miss Mina! Miss Mina!” came the calls from behind. She went out back to see the men packing up their tools. “The sun is getting too hot. We’ll be back in the morning to finish up.”

“Can you deliver something for me in the village?”

“Of course, Miss Mina… anything you need.”

Mina ran into the house found a pencil and paper and quickly scribbled a note. She hurried outside and gave it to one of the men. “Please deliver this to the widow…”

“Kamal’s widow?”

“Yes.”

“As soon as we get into the village… this will be in her hands.”

Mina followed the men a little ways down the road. As they disappeared into the distance Mina looked around but there was no sign of Kamal. She took a few steps then stopped.

“Kamal, if you are here… listen carefully. Tonight when you see the oil lamp lit and placed on the front step come around to the back of the where the verandah is. Do not say anything… just listen. It will be very important that you listen.”

With that Mina returned to the house. As she entered the front door from the corner of her eye she saw Kamal step out from behind a tree from where she was earlier.

continued here…

continued from here…

You can leave your 5 word sentence starter with every completed section posted.
For those of you who want to play “catch-up” here are the previous sections in sequence.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7

Mina looked up to see the long dark tunnel formed by the canopy of trees that lined both sides of the road as she rode home. She had refused a lift earlier from Osman feeling that the ride would help clear her mind of everything it had been bombarded with earlier. This however was not the case as her mind spun faster and faster on the ride as there was so much she hadn’t quite digested from the revelations made on the beach earlier. It was something that Osman had said that kept repeating over and over in her mind.

“We all have our purpose and place. Your grandmother’s was not only to guide life into this world but also to guide life out of it. We of course understand that you have considered ambitious plans for your life… we only ask you to consider your purpose.”

It was this that at one point forced her to stop riding and sit down on the side of the road to cry. It was the realization that in truth she did not have any ambitious plans. Her acceptance of the position in London was probably yet another stop in an already transitory life. Her choice of career had not been fueled by ambition but by the excuse to move from place to place. Within the last 10 years she had lived in at least 5 different cities due to study or work. It was the realization that she didn’t really belong anywhere that finally overwhelmed her into tears. She had always believed that it was that very same sense of not belonging that granted her a freedom to relish the somewhat nomadic life she had led so far. Here for the first time, everything thus far just felt inconsequential and purposeless. For the first time she felt the ache of emptiness inside. Yet here was an opportunity to belong that had no basis in rational thought.

As she rode her only yearning was to escape from all of this into the comfort of sleep. Her legs pumped the pedals of the bicycle harder as she began to make out the tiny outline of the house in the distance. As she got closer she thought she saw someone sitting on the front stoop of the house. She got close enough and the illumination of the moonlight revealed that it was him. Mina was not afraid. Instead she felt an anger begin to bubble within and threw him an acid glance as she rode past making for the back of the house. He followed her keeping a respectful distance as she leaned the bicycle up against the house.

“What do you want?” She asked with a definite chill in her voice.” He did not reply. “Well…” she continued, “I have nothing to say to you. I think it will be best if you leave.” She walked up to the verandah leaving him standing below. “If you are here about working on the kitchen… I have hired someone else to do it. So, goodbye.”

Finally he spoke. “I came to apologize.”

“About the work or about last night?” She shot back with a hint of venom. “Never mind… don’t answer that.” Mina quickly composed herself while feeling she was about to implode. “Fine. You have apologized. Apology accepted. Now go… please I’m very tired.”

“Please… “

“NO!” Mina surprised herself with a ferociousness she had never known before. She took a pause to collect herself again. “Please, I don’t want to be rude… first, what’s your name?”

“Kamal… ”

“OK, Kamal… I’m leaving in a few days. Last night could have been very nice… but I think we both know that it would not have gone anywhere past… last night. It shows great character that you have come here to apologize. Now you have done that… please go.”

“I think I’m married… “

“What?”

“I think I’m married and I have children… “

“I think you really need to go… now!”

“I’m sorry but I don’t know where…”

“Home. Go home. Just leave me alone… please!”

“I don’t know how. I keep walking down the road… and I end up here. No matter what direction I go… I end up here! Nothing looks familiar… nothing makes sense. I feel like I belong here yet I feel lost. And tonight when I was walking I look down… and I don’t have one. Look!” He points to the ground next to him. “I… I don’t have a shadow!”

Mina looked and indeed there was none.

With his voice beginning to crack, “Look, everything has a shadow… I don’t! I keep coming back here to you… I don’t know why! What is happening?”

In that moment a flood of thoughts and images gushed into Mina’s already spinning mind. Flashes of images from the night before collided with the angelic demureness of the widow at the funeral kenduri. Snippets of conversation bombarded her senses mixed with strains from the dirge she heard the night before by voices of children.

“It’s a good thing for us Kamal liked mangosteens more than your chicken porridge, Mr. Chong.” – “Miss Mina, the five of us… we make arrangements for the living. The sixth arranger helps those who have stepped beyond life.” – “I’m sorry… I just had to know… I had to know that you are real.” – “We all have our purpose and place… we only ask you to consider your purpose.”

Everything her rational mind deemed implausible was being realized before her very eyes. An ugly stew of emotions began swirling inside her. Fear, regret, desire, guilt, doubt and uncertainty all fought like thick slurp of bubbles that popped only to be replaced by another. It rose and rose until mercifully everything went black and Mina crumpled to the floor.

The next thing she felt was the gentle soothing strokes of a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and as soon as they focused she whispered “Nenek,… is this a dream?”

“No, it’s not, Mina. This is not a dream, my child.” Came the gentle reply of her grandmother’s voice.

continued here…

continued from here
Oh, and there is a non-story (though related) post below this one.

You can leave your 5 word sentence starter with every completed section posted.
For those of you who want to play “catch-up” here are the previous sections in sequence.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6

The kenduri was over by 5 PM. Within 45 minutes the tents were taken down and everything cleared with everyone pitching in. Mina had gone home to change and decided to ride her grandfather’s rickety old bicycle to the meeting with Mr. Osman.

With the bicycle parked she stood watching the moonrise reflecting on the water of the calm sea. The fishermen had set out an hour earlier for the night catch leaving the jetty empty of any vessals. Toward the end of the kenduri word had come about the sighting of a “purple sea” and they had all scurried away with the exciting prospect of a major baby shrimp harvest.

Mr. Osman was somewhat vague earlier as to the details of the meeting. Mina was guessing that perhaps the 5 “arrangers” of the village would probably be placing a collective bid on her grandparents property.

“Miss Mina!”

She turned to see Osman and 4 other elderly men approach her on the jetty. 2 Chinese, 1 Indian and a Malay. There was a round of introductions.

“We apologize for meeting here, Miss Mina. There are many ears in this town and this is not for them.”

This perked Mina’s interest. “So, what is this about?”

Just then a motorized fishing boat pulled up to the jetty where they stood. The other men got into the boat and Osman gestured Mina to do the same. “Please, there is something you have to see.”

Within 5 minutes the boat chugged around a rocky point and into a secluded beach cove known as Teluk Emas (Gold Bay). Although beautiful this area was only reachable by boat and the locals preferred frolicking on the beaches at the more convenient Teluk Merah (Red Bay).

When they had disembarked Mina looked around. “I have been here before… when I was younger with my grandmother”

The men nodded and smiled at each other. The most feeble of the men, Mr. Soong lifted a shaking hand pointing toward one end of the cove where the jungle met the sea separated by a strip of loose rocks. A stream of water from the jungle danced over the rocks into the sea. “Then you know what is there.”

“Yes, that is where the jungle stream that flows by my grandfather’s house empties into the sea. My grandmother would get fresh water from there whenever we picnicked here.”

The Indian gentleman, Mr. Kannan then handed a flashlight and an umbrella to Mina. “Please that this Miss Mina.”

“What are these for?”

Osman piped in quickly. “Begging your pardon, Miss Mina… we would like you to go over there. Behind that big rock there is a waterfall. There are stepping stones in the stream that lead to it. We want you to go into the waterfall… come back and tell us what you saw.”

Mr. Kannan added, “The torch is for you to see and the umbrella to keep you dry when you walk under the waterfall.”

Mina began to protest. “But…”

“Please Miss Mina, this is important to us. Bring back some proof of what you saw.” Mr. Soong said with urgency.

Strange as this request was Mina took the flashlight and the umbrella purely out of curiosity. She walked to the rocks and the closer she got the louder the sound of water falling on rocks became. She walked around the big rock and it was all there as Osman had described it… a small waterfall falling from about 8 feet high. She opened the umbrella and traversed the stepping stones toward the waterfall and disappeared into it.

Back at the beach Osman looked at Soong. “Do you still doubt that she is the one?”

“But she has seen the children… Osman said so.” Argued Mr. Kannan.

“Gentleman, I think we are about to find out.” Came Mr. Soong’s reply.

“Mr Osman! Mr. Soong!” Mina bellowed as she ran toward the men, excited, eyes ablaze and heart pumping fast. She reached the men and stopped to take a breath. “I saw it! It’s incredible! How long has it been there? How come it has never been stolen? I have never seen anything like it in my life!”

“Did you bring back any proof, Miss Mina?” asked Soong.

Still out of breath Mina reached into the pocket of her jeans. “Yes… it’s right here.” She pulls out a silver Acehenese bracelet with a design from the 17th century and holds it up for the men to see. “Here, do you want it?”

“No.” said Mr. Osman. “That is for you to keep… no matter what your decision might be that is yours to keep.”

Mina looked at the men who all had smiles on their faces. “Now, what is this business proposition you wanted to talk to me about?”

“It’s like this Miss Mina…” began Osman. “… you see, everybody thinks the 5 of us are the only arrangers in the village… “

Mr. Kannan added, “…but there has always been a sixth.”

“We lost that person last week.” Chimed in Soong,
“My grandmother?”

“Yes, Miss Mina.” Continued Soong. “Our system is unique and has been in place for a long time… and it works well for us.”

Kannan added, “This is why our village is the only one on the peninsular that has no ketua (head man)”

Mr. Leong, one of the 2 quieter of the arrangers spoke up. “Because of our system there has never been a need for one.”

Then Mr. Kalid, the other of the 2 quiet ones spoke. “And when your grandmother passed on… we were unsure if our system would survive.”

“I’m not quite sure I understand. What does this have to do with me?”asked Mina.

“You have plans to make your life overseas in London.” Osman gently explained. “Of course, you are entitled. You have worked hard to better your life. We just hoped with our investment in your education you would… perhaps set up your practice here. You are the last in your family line.”

“Wait a minute!” Mina shot back. “What exactly do you mean by… investment?”

Mr. Osman looked at the others then at Mina. “Your education was paid for by us… or more accurately by what you saw in there. Of course we cannot and will not hold you to that. We just hoped…”

“Can’t the village survive with 5 arrangers?” asked Mina.

There was a pause. Then Soong decided to field this question. “You see Miss Mina… it’s a little complicated. We have heard that you have seen the children playing in the padang… on a day and time when all the children in the village are either in school or at home. What you did just now… by going through the waterfall… none of us or anyone in the village is capable of that. This is why none of it has ever been stolen And…”

“And this makes me the sixth arranger?” Mina was trying hard to understand. “I’m sorry, I’m still unclear how I…”

Mr. Kalid finally said what needed to be said. “Miss Mina, the five of us… we make arrangements for the living. The sixth arranger helps those who have stepped beyond this life.”

continued here…

continued from here.

OK… I cheated a little. I composed this at the laundromat this morning before checking the comment section. I will use those for the next section. Thank you for leaving them.

You can leave your 5 word sentence starter with every completed section posted.
For those of you who want to play “catch-up” here are the previous sections in sequence.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5

As is the case with most Malay funerals, the remains of the deceased had to be buried within 24 hours and the fisherman was buried in the early afternoon. However, unlike most funerals in other parts of the country the village always held a kenduri after the burial. Tents were erected on the padang that hosted a huge community potluck. People brought their best dishes to the event and rolled out mats under the shelter of the tents to partake in this picnic peculiar. It was said this tradition was yet another that found its roots in the old pirate days. Because of the various ethnic, cultural and religious traditions that co-existed there, the kenduri provided a common opportunity to celebrate the life of the recently deceased.

Mina had spent the rest of the morning cooking up a batch of keladi (tapioca fritters) which were a specialty of her grandmother. It helped take her mind away from the confusing events of the night before. She donned a baju kurong for the event mostly so she would not offend the local sensibilities. Due to a travel snafu she had barely made it to her grandmother’s funeral and was forced to attend it in her travel clothes consisting of a white shirt and jeans. The kurong was the attire of choice also because of the comfort afforded by the loose fitting traditional garment.
By the time Mina arrived at the kenduri, everyone was adding their dishes to the 2 long tables set up in the center. She made her contribution to the meal at one of the tables and was invited to join Mr. Osman on his mat. Although generally men and women sat seperately, this was not a hard and fast rule in the village.

There were no formalities at these gatherings except for the signal to begin eating. This was usually provided by the family of the deceased who took the first helpings of the food that everyone had contributed. There was never a rush for the food tables and as Mina had observed a week earlier there seemed to be a certain casual synchronicity to the whole affair.

Mina had already begun to eat when Mr. Osman returned with his plate piled high. He sat down looked at her and chuckled. “I met Mr. Kee Cheong, the fish broker at the table. He said if funerals happened in the village at this rate… we would never get any work done. The dead are going to put us all out of business!”

Mina giggled politely at his joke. She knew full well that this event was not to mourn the dead but to appreciate their lives and even to poke a little fun at them. As she ate Mina marveled and took delight in watching the subtle quirky customs of the funeral kenduri unfold.

The village folk would eat and mill about in a seemingly random fashion. Inevitably they would make their way to where the deceased family sat. Condolences had already been offered at the funeral so this was a time to share stories and enquire about future plans. It was about moving on. There was always a group of no more than three people sitting and chatting with the young widow and her 2 young children. By custom, 2 fisherman baskets were situated close to where they sat. One was empty and the other usually filled with something edible that was the dead person’s favorite. In this cas,e the second basket was filled with the mangosteen fruit.

“It’s a good thing for us Kamal liked mangosteens more than your chicken porridge, Mr. Chong. I would have liked to have seen you try pouring the porridge into that basket… … the widow would be sitting in a padang of porridge by now!”

There was a round of laughter by everyone within earshot and without missing a beat, Mr Chong who was sitting on the next mat came back with, “You can thank his wife. She threatened to leave him if he came into my shop to eat my porridge more than 2 times a week!” Of course this sparked yet another round of laughter.

Mina laughed along but kept her eyes on the widow and the children. Once the brief and casual chit-chat was done the 3 “visitors” wished the widow well, walked over and picked a fruit from one of the baskets and dropped a cash donation into the empty one. The donations were given to defray the cost of the funeral leaving more than enough to support a living for a year. Mina had already decided to donate the donations she had received the week before to the clinic in the village.

Within moments, like a strange dance yet another set of “visitors” took the place of the departing group on the mat with the widow and her family.

Mr. Chong suddenly said, “I think he’s going to do it.”

“Who is it?” enquired Mr, Osman not turning his head to look behind.
“Lim. He’s going to be the first one.” shot back Cheong.

“The carpenter?” quizzed Mr. Osman who had his back turned to the view.

“No, his son.”

“Well, they did go to school together. They’ve known each other since they were children.”

Everyone took a discreet glance at where the widow sat. Staring would be rude and disrespectful. Young Lim stood patiently out of eye-sight behind the widow. Out of the 2 others who had “visited” with him earlier, he was the only one who had not cracked open the fruit and eaten it yet. As soon as the current visitors got up to leave he placed the fruit beside the widow. By doing so he was announcing that he was prepared to “shelter” her from this point on. This gesture given to a widow, as was the case here, was also a proposition of intent on the part of the giver. That after a suitable span of time for mourning, usually no less than a year, she would place a broom outside her front door to indicate her readiness to be courted.

“That didn’t take long at all.” Mused Mina. “I didn’t receive my first one for at least 2 hours last week.”

“And I was the first.” Said Mr. Osman proudly. “By the end of the day you received at least 12 starfruit.”

Not letting the opportunity go Chong said, “So, you are planning on taking a third wife then, Osman!”

“Miss Mina is a western educated independent woman, Chong. I think she may have her own plans that do not include the waning virility of an old uneducated man!” came the quick retort from Osman.

Mina quickly followed up with, “Mr. Osman, you may be surprised by what my real plans could be. In 2 months I may be sitting where the widow sits now.” This of course ignited yet another round of laughter and good natured ribbing. This also made everyone around feel more comfortable with Mina and many thereafter began conversing with her.

Once their plates were free of food, Osman leaned over, “Miss Mina, I will be visiting the family now. Will you honor me with your company?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you. But, the honor will be mine” They stood up and strolled in a direction away from the widow. That was part and parcel of the choreography of this quirky village custom – one’s destination should always appear to be a happy casual accident.

As they engaged in this promenade, they stopped to chit-chat with other groups of folk. Finding themselves relatively alone at one point Mr. Osman slyly mentioned, “The widow is expecting another child, you know.”

“Yes, I think she would be about 4 months now.”

Osman looked at her impressed. “You have been trained well to notice that under her baju kurong. I only mentioned it because… perhaps this could be the topic of conversation between you and the widow when we visit. You could give her some of your expert advice.”

“Execellent suggestion… as always, Mr. Osman.” She smiled at Osman’s gesture to help her save face by avoiding awkward silences during the visit with the widow.

“Pardon my asking… have your plans changed?”

Mina looked at the old man and smiled. “I’m afraid not. I will be leaving in a few days.”

Osman paused for a moment, then smiled and asked, “Then time is of the essence. Later this evening, after the kenduri… if you wouldn’t mind… the other arrangers and I would like to speak with you.”

“About what?”

“A proposition… a business proposition.”

“Of course, Mr. Osman… of course.”

By the time they reached their destination there was a pile of at least 20 mangosteens next to the widow. Mina was hardly surprised. As they sat to visit, the widow who appeared so plain and unassuming from a distance was positively radiant up close. Mina could not help but admire how beautiful she was in her simplicity. She was indeed a worthy catch. By evenings end there was a pile of fruit had grown to 65… half of them from married men.

continued here…

continued from here.

Once again to reiterate… what you are reading are straight drafts… raw with no edits…warts, open sores and all! LOL! As it unfolds for me… .. it’s unfolding to you. And depending on if the flow continues there could be yet one more section before the weekend is up. You can leave your 5 word sentence starter with every completed section posted. For those of you who want to play “catch-up” here are the previous sections in sequence.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
Contributers to this section:
And yet anxiety gripped her… lelly
She knew it would end… cosima
She lifted her smoldering eyes… mustang

She knew it would end as she succumbed to him… at least that’s what she kept telling herself as their tongues intertwined while locked in a tight embrace. It sent an electrifying tingle that coursed throughout her entire being. Then he brought his hands up to hold the sides of her face as he began kissing her hard, desperately… almost violently. All she could do was attempt to validate his fervent actions with equal responses. He suddenly pulled away from her and gazed at her face. His hands then loosened and tenderly slid down her cheek as if to validate that she was indeed real.

She lifted her smoldering eyes to meet his and saw what she had first seen on the stone path outside the bathhouse. He drew her close to him and nestled his face into the side of her neck. He held her with a gentleness she had never ever experienced before and yet anxiety gripped her because of the newness of this sensation. This was unlike any sensual experience she had ever had.

He began to slide down to his knees, his chin dislodging the knot of her sarong and releasing its hold on her falling away down to the plank flooring. She stood there naked as the weight of his body finally rested on his knees. His arms wrapped around her as he buried his face into the curve of her right hip. She brought her hands to his head and slowly ran her fingers through his hair.

She looked down and realized that he was sobbing. She began to feel the tentativeness of confusion begin to overtake what until this point was a mounting sexual desire. He tilted his head up and looked at her. She was totally taken aback and mesmerized by the gratitude glowing from his eyes. He then stood up and backed away from her never for a moment taking his eyes off her.

“I’m sorry… I just had to know… I had to know that you are real.” With that he turned and left the room.

From outside the window she heard the voices of children singing an old Malay folk ditty, only slower… it almost sounded like a dirge.

Di mana dia, anak kambing saya,
Anak kambing saya main di tepi bendang,
Di mana dia, cinta hati saya,
Cinta hati saya yang berjalan lenggang,

She gathered up her sarong, quickly tied it and hurried to the window to look out. She saw nothing as the singing began fading into the distance. She made her way outside and walked around the house several times to see where he had gone but was only greeted by the serene sounds of the evening.

She finally sat on the verandah in the back trying to make sense of what had transpired. Her mind was racing at a fevered pitch. Nothing was making sense… nothing at all. Soon, overcome by exhaustion she curled up in her grandfather’s rattan chair and drifted off to sleep. As she lay there sleeping a figure of a woman stood by her side and pulled a sheet over Mina to insulate her from the cool night air.
———————————————————————

She awoke to the sounds of a lorry out front and a male voice calling out. “Miss Mina! Miss Mina…”

She stumbled out of the rattan chair and managed to formulate a response. “Just a moment! I’ll be out in a minute!” She made her way in and slipped on a blouse over her sarong in a hastened attempt to conform to the modest propriety of the village. When she walked out the front door she was greeted by Mr. Osman.

“Good morning, Miss Mina. I hope we did not wake you.”

“No, no, I was just… Good Morning, Mr Osman.”
“Where do you want these materials to be delivered?”

“Around to where the kitchen is… in the back.”

Mr. Osman tuned to the driver of the lorry and the 2 men who rode in the back. “Around to the back of the house, gentleman!”

As the men began unloading and carrying assorted materials to the back Mina walked down to Mr. Osman.

“Mr. Osman, is it possible to find someone to rebuild the kitchen.”

“What happened to the person you said you had?”

“That just didn’t work out.”

“Miss Mina, everyone is involved with the funeral today… but I’m sure I will have someone here tomorrow morning to begin the work.”

“That will be fine… Thank You. Also please provide me with a list of expenses together with that for my Grandmother’s funeral last week. And once again I want to thank you deeply for making all those arrangements.”

“Oh, there will be no bill for any of this, Miss Mina. This is the very least we can do for your grandmother for all she has done for us over the years.”

“But… “

“Miss Mina, if you insist on paying us… the entire village will be deeply insulted. It would be a great disrespect to us… and an insult to the memory of your grandmother.”

Mina knew that this was firm and no amount if insistence would change his mind. All she could muster was a humble thank you. The lorry had now been emptied of its contents and the men were ready to head back.

“We will go now Miss Mina. We will see you at the funeral this afternoon, yes? If not the funeral… perhaps the kenduri after.”

Funerals were a community event and Mina knew that her presence would act as a gesture of thanks to the village for pitching in for her grandmother’s funeral just the week before.

“I will be at the kenduri.”

“Of course.” Came Osman’s gracious reply.

Just as he turned to head to the truck Mina interjected.

“Mr. Osman, is there a family living nearby… a family with children?”

“Children?” A glint flashed in the old man’s eye. “Things are as they were from your last visit 7 years ago, Miss Mina. Other than your grandparents property no one lives between here and the village.”

“What about up the road?”

“The next town is 20 miles away.” He was about to leave when he stopped again and turned to her. “Please forgive me for asking… yesterday in the village… what did you see?” Mina looked at Osman with a slight frown on her brow. Seeing this he quickly made an attempt to clarify. “Outside the coffee shop… across in the padang.”

“Children. They were playing tops.”

“Huh. Children… playing tops. Very good. Very good.” He chuckled to himself and hurriedly got into the passenger side of the old lorry. “I will see you at the kenduri later!” The vehicle drove down the road back toward the village in a rising trail of dust.

continued here…

Continued from this post which was a continuation of this post which all began with this post. And here’s a post on why I’m doing this (though that really shouldn’t matter) with a mini-rant and other crap.

Did more writing so, I’m posting. From this point on you can leave your 5 word sentence starter with every completed section posted. It’s coming pretty fast and frurious so there may be more sections as the weekend rolls along. (So, I’m altering the rules… but, hey… it’s my process.)

Contributers to this section…

“here at the right time but wrong place or right place but the wrong time” – kfarmer
“tripping over her own ego” – jade ed girl
“Osmun hurried to the padang…” apj

Mina spent the rest of the day busy with her chores of sorting and packing. She had already engaged in this process for the last 5 days and was no longer prone to mull over the preciousness of every other item her grandparents had owned. On a couple of occasions she thought she heard someone outside… but when she went to look there was no one around.

By 4 in the afternoon she had pretty much given up on ‘him-who-has-no-name’ actually turning up. This was the little joke moniker she had privately bestowed on him as she was walking back from the village earlier in the day. She chuckled a little while thinking to herself that he probably ran on typical village time. The only events that ran on time in the village were births and funerals. Everything else was sort of an interpretive dance of life. After all he did say “in the afternoon” and didn’t specify which. She also reasoned to herself that everyone the village knew everyone else and each others’ business. Chances are he was helping out with arrangements for the recently deceased fisherman during which he ran into Mr. Osman who probably told him that the materials were only being delivered the next day.

Feeling a little spent from all that sorting and packing she decided to slip into her sarong and take a nap. As she lay on her side she spotted her grandmother’s workbag that she had placed beside the bed the night before. It was an old fashioned leather doctor’s case that stood upright and opened from the top. She remembered that there was a certain mystical prestige that was attached to it. On any ordinary day her grandmother was Mak Cik (aunty) to everyone in the village. One those days that she carried the bag she was always addressed as Puan (lady). It was a phenomenon she first took notice of at the age of 9 when she first followed and witnessed her grandmother delivering a baby. She remembered also the sense of awe and pride she felt knowing that her Nenek helped to coax life into this world.

She lay on her front, positioned herself on the edge of the bed, opened the bag and looked inside. She took delight and marveled at the simplicity of the instruments… also noting how little they had really changed over time. She decided almost immediately that this would be one of the few items she would keep and take with her when she left for London in a couple of weeks. After all, it was her grandmother’s position as the village mid-wife that inspired her in pursuing a career as ObGyn. The soft breeze wafting through the window soon lulled her into the land of dreams.

When she awoke she first noticed the colors of dusk beginning to envelop the sky outside. She lolled in bed for a while enjoying the low buzz of being half awake as thoughts floated in and out of her still dreamy state. Some of them involved the new life she was embarking on in London. Some were memories of past lovers. And yet some involved the decision of what to have for dinner. Soon enough she decided that dinner would be some fresh fruit from the trees in the garden. Besides she was still satiated from a late lunch.

She walked through the small orchard outside with a basket in one hand and a kerosene lamp in another as the dusk began to give way to the night. She picked a couple of bananas and a starfruit then made her way along the stone pathway to bathhouse which was situated a respectable distance away from the house and closer to the jungle stream that bordered the 3 acre property. This was a half roofless structure measuring ten by ten feet built on top of a flattened granite rock. 4 wooden 8 foot walls provided the bather’s privacy. On the roofless end stood 2 large clay jars, 4 feet high with an equal radius. One was fed by a bamboo spout that siphoned water from the stream and was in a constant state of overflow that drained down the slight gradient of the granite floor toward a hole in the corner out back toward the stream. The other jar was used to catch rainwater. The covered half was the dry area where one hung up towels and changed in and out of clothes.

Mina hung up her lamp, pulled out her bottle of shampoo from her basket, and made her way to the jar that caught rainwater. Once her hair was shampooed and rinsed she reached for the bar of soap from the basket. The fresh cold stream water felt great against her skin as she stood bathing in the moonlight. The moonbeams lit everything with an ethereal blue glow. As she poured the last bucket to rinse off she felt a presence outside. She turned to look at the door she had left opened and saw him standing outside watching her.

How long had he been there she wondered. Without drying herself she quickly slipped back into her sarong, picked up her basket and walked out. Once outside they stood there for several moments looking at each other not more than 10 feet apart. She was not afraid but there was a propriety that had been breeched and yet there seemed to be no courtesy of any apology forthcoming. The whimsy in his eyes from the morning had now been replaced with intensity. She realized that he probably saw the same in hers and decided to make her way past him back to the house as quickly as she could. As she drew nearer she suddenly became aware that the intensity in his eyes possessed a vulnerability that she had only ever known in the eyes of a new born facing the first moments of life.

As she walked past him she felt his hand on her bare shoulder. It was a firm yet gentle touch of a man that transformed the slight annoyance she first felt inside into a stirring desire. It was the kind of touch she had forgotten a man was capable of… the kind of touch that belonged to a more innocent and pure age. She stopped, turned and looked at him, her mind reeling. From the quagmire of this situation she wasn’t sure if here was the right time but wrong place or right place but the wrong time. Should she brush him off or respond to the warmth mounting within her? She turned to look at his hand on her shoulder… then back into his eyes. He withdrew his hand. She turned to walk away before her own eyes betrayed her further. She knew full well if she looked back the primal within would win.

The walk back to the house seemed like an eternity as half thoughts added to the confusion caused by the desire of her body clashing up against the rationale of her mind. They were from different worlds yet from the same beginnings of the village. He was decidedly uneducated yet possessed a quick an uncanny intelligence that was innate and could never be schooled. Her future lay elsewhere yet why should she deprive herself of the moment. Both relief and regret hit her simultaneously as she reached the door of the back verandah. As she closed the door to lock out the night she saw him still standing in the moonlight where she left him.

She headed for the safety of her room and slipped out of her now wet sarong. She dried herself off, found a replacement sarong and slipped into it. As she secured the knot to secure it she felt the gentle touch of his hand caress the softness of her belly. She swung around and their lips met as the last cogent thought slipped fleetingly out of her mind. This is safe as she would be leaving for another life in a few days.

continued here…

Continued from this post.

I may add to this as the weekend rolls along. Contributers to this section.
(The) subtle movement caught her eye…. apj
From the quagmire of this…….kien
The village children stopped playing…lolly
again she hear the flute… sol
she needed the fresh air….lime
she was a good bitch… ssm

A subtle movement caught her eye as Mina strolled through the open pasar or market of the village. It almost seemed as if everyone stiffened ever so slightly at the sight of her. She was used to this. Even though she was born in the village she was always considered an outsider. Her father had died suddenly after her birth and her mother moved back to the city soon after to begin a new life. The 8 weeks she spent every year with her father’s parents until she was 17 hardly qualified her as a true resident. Although she had a deep affection for the place she never dared call it home.

She headed to a local coffee shop to meet with a certain Mr. Osman who was one of the local “arrangers” in the village. He was one of an exclusive group of 5 elders who were part legal advisors, part brokers, part negotiators, and part mediators. Each one of these individuals had a direct family line to the first 5 settlers in the area. Local lore had it that the original 5 were captains of rival pirate vessels who formed a collective to more efficiently ply their “trades” in these waters.

On the padang (field) across the street from the coffee shop a small group of children were gleefully engaged in a game of “gasing” or tops. The object of the game was to strike the top of your opponent out of the circle drawn in the dirt and of course to spin the longest. Mina stopped outside the coffee shop to watch for a bit marveling at the level of skill these children had already attained. It was also a curious delight for her to know that there were still places in the world where children still played these sort of games outside.

In the musty but pleasant coffee shop Mr. Osman, a slight gentleman with a kindly face rose from his usual table to greet Mina as she entered.

“What’s news?” He greeted her, extending his hand lightly touching hers then bringing it back to touch his chest… the traditional Malay handshake. They exchanged pleasantries and he invited her to sit with him.

“The storm last night blew off the roof off the kitchen…”

“How unfortunate… are you OK?”

“I’m fine thank you. I have a list here of materials for the repairs and… “

“Please give it to me.” Osman looked at the list impressed by the detail. “Yes, it does seem like it’s all there. I’ll arrange for everything.”

“Thank You Mr. Osman. You are most kind.”

“The materials will be delivered this afternoon. I’m afraid however that work may only be able to begin tomorrow. A fishing boat did not return this morning and most of the men are still out searching…”

“The storm last night?”

“Yes, but we are hopeful. Here in the village most of our men learned to swim before they could crawl. In fact, your grandmother use to say that they were swimming in the womb and only stopped to be born!” The old man chuckled.

“Oh, I will not be needing help to build.”

The old man stopped laughing and looked at her quizzically. “Are you planning to build it yourself Miss Mina? A western education has certainly made you very resourceful.”

Mina couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no… someone has already offered to build it for me.”

“I see. Of course… someone from the village?”

“I think so.”

“What is his name?” She was about to answer when an Indian man walked into the coffee shop. “Excuse me, Miss Mina…” Then, calling to the man. “Yes, Mr Sami…”

As he walked over the Indian man shared a look of dread with the Chinese owner of the coffee shop. He then whispered something into Osman’s ear. Mina also noticed the absence of gleeful laughter from the children outside. The village children stopped playing and seemed to be staring at something down the road.

“Begging your pardon, Miss Mina… I’m afraid there is some bad news.”

“What’s wrong?” Instinctively she blurted, “The boat?”

“Yes, unfortunately we lost one of our own in the storm last night.” They all made their way to the front of the coffee shop as a quiet procession of men accompanied a stretcher carrying a covered body. “Miss Mina, due to the circumstance your materials can only be delivered tomorrow.”

“Of course. I understand.”

“Pardon me, arrangements have to be made.” With that the old man walked out and joined the procession.

Once it passed, Mina looked across to the padang where the children seemed to resume their game where they left off. They continued to play with glee as if this was an everyday occurrence. She found this a little peculiar but passed it off and headed back home.

As she walked down the road, Chong, the owner of the coffee shop looked out at the padang then to Mr. Sami. “Sami, did you see her look across to the padang?”

“I did.”

“Let’s make sure Mr. Osman is informed of this.”

continued here.

6 AM – Leave your 5 word sentence starter in the comments and I’ll attempt to use them in the next section of the story.

If you haven’t been by since the AM yesterday… I added to “untitled 5-3-1 b”… check it out 2 posts down.

Come back in the AM tomorrow to see how it developed. Thanks fort your input. Cheers!

If you are new to my latest insanity… go to this post.

EDIT: I just got back from the laundromat to find that my jungle webs thing got cancelled. Made a call and they found the screwup and have since reinstated it but it will be a couple of hours before it will be fully up.

So Solitaire is giving up blogging. Not sure why but I’ll support her decision. Now go over to her place and wish her well.

The day is turning out busier than I thought it would… but I’ll still attempt a section of the 5-3-1 project for uploading tomorrow.

This also means that HNT this evening is going to be iffy at best… I’ll know a little later.