Adventures of 2 Girls

by Ning Cai

  “Oh man, Pam! Seriously! It was just a fucking lizard!!”

  Leaving the noisy dryer behind me, I stormed over to the door and jiggled the doorknob violently, which stubbornly refused to budge. I’ve experienced this same catty behaviour from elevator buttons who like to play hard-to-get, never communicating your urgency to the lift despite the numerous times you tap the button.

  Beads of perspiration were dripping down my back, soaking my bikini. The morning sun was getting hotter and it all added to my irritation. In anger and frustration, I punched the door with my fist, swearing like a sailor.

  The BFF finally found her voice. “But you told me to shut it...”

  “Whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout,” I glared daggers at Pam. How dare she play the victim! “Pam... I didn’t tell you to lock us out, I was doing our laundry and you were doing NOTHING! Is it so hard to just use your damn brains and close the door behind you, with you inside?”

  “It’s not my fault! The lizard was there! And how would I know the door locks automatically?” Pam wailed defensively. “Did YOU know?”

  I swore again, upset because I knew Lori only came back late in the evenings. Her kid was in school and wouldn’t be back till the afternoon. I shut my eyes in anger.

  “Can you pick the lock?” Pam asked softly.

  I damn nearly strangled the BFF.

  “With what, Pam?” I gestured wildly at Lori’s backyard. “Grass?!”

  PAM

  It was an earnest suggestion. After all, I had seen Ning pick locks with a hairpin, like for her Impalement Cage escape stunt. And when we chill out on weekends, she sits beside me on the sofa picking locks while we watch DVDs, even practising on various types of locks. So what’s a humble back door?

  But my totally valid and helpful suggestion just made her madder. “With what? Grass?!” she shrieked, her tone jumping an octave. I honestly didn’t know – until then – that Ning even had such a high register in her voice range.

  “I don’t know, a piece of wire of something...” I offered feebly, looking around the tiny backyard for something thin and strong enough to slip into the lock.

  Our phones were inside the house and we didn’t know anyone’s numbers by heart. Our car keys were also locked in, so we couldn’t drive our Hertz-rented Mustang convertible out to look for a locksmith.

  We were royally screwed.

  NING

  “Stop snapping at me, Ning...” Pam sulked and folded her arms. “I was just trying to give suggestions.”

  I walked away briskly, trying to calm down, willing my anger and angst to melt away so I could think of a way out of this frustrating situation. Every window looked securely fastened, so I scoffed at Pam’s new suggestion of breaking one to get in. I knew I was acting like a total jerk, but I was still furious with her, so every suggestion she offered seemed really dumb. Plus, I really needed to pee.

  “What do we do now?” I wailed as I squatted dejectedly, staring down at my shoes. There was no other way into the house because we’d bolted the main door and no one was home except Lori’s crazy puppy upstairs, which had been yipping away loudly the whole time. C’mon... think, Ning, think!

  Pam joined me at my side. “Hey, let’s wait for Lori or her son to come home. His grandpa always brings him home after school.”

  I could feel my face flush in anger. My heartbeat was drumming loudly in my ears. Seriously?

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me, Pam!” I shot up and faced the BFF, incredulous that she’d even suggested such a stupid thing. “Look, I’m not going to just wait here passively for hours. They may go out for lunch, go shopping, whatever... do you really expect us to wait here and do nothing?!”

  Pam looked hurt. “Fine. Suggest something then!”

  “I’m gonna get help,” I declared, conviction resonating in my voice. “Lori’s neighbours should have her mobile number or something. Let’s go!”

  I turned back after three steps, realising that Pam hadn’t moved. I gestured impatiently. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  The BFF grimly shook her head.

  “What? You’re not joining me??” I swore again. “What the fuck, Pam?”

  “No...” the BFF wrapped her arms across her chest and lowered her head.

  “Dammit! I... I simply cannot believe it!” I almost screamed. “Why?!”

  PAM

  I hesitated, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. It’s not that I didn’t want to look for help from the neighbours; it’s just that... it’s just that...

  “I’m not wearing a bra...” I mumbled, shooting Ning a pleading look as I gestured to my thin grey t-shirt that was too light-coloured to hide anything. “And I’m in panties...”

  “But you said it was OK when I asked you just now!” Ning shot back.

  “Yeah, but that’s because it’s just you and me, and we’re in the backyard!” I retorted. “I wasn’t planning to go out and meet people like this!”

  So there in Lori’s backyard, we argued about who was more indecent. In my humble opinion, Ning was definitely the more decent one because people wore bikinis in Hawaii all the time, everywhere... even to the bank!

  And c’mon, let’s face it, Ning looks more than decent in a bikini. She is ‘Magic Babe’, for crying out loud. I’d bet my bottom dollar that she would make everyone’s day if she walked down the street in her skimpy brown bikini with boobs overflowing. As for me...

  The BFF did not seem to think that a bra-less girl in a light grey t-shirt and koala panties was indecent in public. So in a fit of exasperation at getting nowhere with my line of reasoning, the hot (as in, fuming) ‘Magic Babe’ in her sexy brown bikini and Puma shoes stormed off up the slope, all the while swearing under her breath at her uncooperative, unreasonable and useless BFF who’d refused to help in a moment of crisis.

  NING

  “FUCK YOU!” I shook my head slowly at Pam, seething in incredulous anger and undisguised disgust. I turned to walk away. If she wanted to just stay there like a sitting duck, fine. I would do us the favour.

  I held my head high but as I rounded the corner, I allowed hot tears of frustration to escape. Blinking them away because I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself, I made my way to Lori’s nearest neighbour and knocked on the door, feeling so alone.

  The neighbour’s car was parked outside, so I thought it would be easy. Knock, apologise sincerely, relate the whole unfortunate story, request they call Lori (surely they must have her number!) and wait for her to come by with her spare key.

  But no one came to the door.

  A bright yellow sticker above my head reminded me of what Lori had told us on the first day. Many door-to-door salespeople come by this affluent neighbourhood, so everyone had door signs that basically told solicitors to bugger off.

  Lori’s neighbours probably thought I was an extremely pushy bikini saleswoman or something. I sighed and tried my luck with the next three houses but again, no one came to the door and I was really at my wit’s end. The sun was getting unbearably hot and I was starting to lose hope.

  Just then, I heard the unmistakable hum of a vacuum cleaner. That meant there was someone at home! Somebody who could very possibly help! My heart raced and I knew that this was my only chance.

  The sound was coming from across the street. Just as I was gravitating towards it, I noticed a police patrol vehicle approaching.

  I quickly darted out of view, or there would be a lot of questions to answer if the policemen stopped and got out of their car. I had no ID on me, and I’d heard horror stories of travellers being locked away like criminals because they had left their passports in their hotel rooms and being treated like illegal immigrants by evil Nazi cops (thanks, dear Mom and Dad, for the paranoia I have today).

  When the coast was clear, I ran across the road and tried to locate the source of the loud vacuuming sound. I finally found it and started pounding on the front door.

  Please open up. Please. Please. Open Sesame. Please
. God, please help me. I’m so tired. I cannot take another rejection. Please. I promise to stop swearing and saying “Fuck” so much. Oops. Sorry God. Accident, I swear. Er. I love you?

  The damn vacuum cleaner was deafening. After rapping my knuckles on the solid wooden door for what seemed like hours, it suddenly opened. A disgruntled-looking teenager stared back at me with suspicious eyes. Her big dog leapt up at me and started scratching my naked legs with its sharp claws.

  Ow!

  I smiled, perhaps a tad too widely, because the girl studied me warily. I probably looked like a desperate, deranged stranger who’d escaped from a nut house and nicked someone’s bikini off the backyard clothesline. Alarm bells were probably sounding in her head. The teenager narrowed her pretty eyes. “Yes?”

  “Er... Hi! Hello! I mean... Aloha!” I waved and attempted a casual laidback attitude, being totally cool about her dog ripping the skin of my legs to shreds. It’s not like I need them for my next FHM photoshoot or anything. The dog scratched again and my plastered smile morphed into an unmasked grimace. “Ow.”

  “C’mere, boy!” the teenager ordered sharply and the excited dog finally stopped his attack on what used to be my legs, cowering behind his young owner.

  “Aloha kakahiaka. Good morning,” I tried again, secretly delirious that I was finally talking to another human being. I wrung my hands helplessly. “I’m your neighbour Lori Okami’s friend. I’m staying with her across the road. My best friend and I got locked out of the house by accident. Can I use your phone... please?”

  She frowned again, sizing me up as I gave my best pleading look, a broad Cheshire grin, pious clasped hands... the works. I must have seemed genuinely pathetic because the teen softened, gave a solemn nod and yelled for her grandmother.

  Grandma obviously didn’t hear her because of all the vacuuming, so I was invited upstairs. There, I was ordered by the girl to “wait here” by the top of the stairs while she went to get her grandmother. The vacuum cleaner powered off and after a few moments, a sweet elderly lady appeared and invited me to take a seat on her sofa. There, I proceeded to tell her the whole story.

  They didn’t know Lori’s contact number, so I asked if she would be so kind as to help me call a local locksmith. Grandma nodded and plodded off to get her Yellow Pages. The teenager had slunk off to her room by now so I sat there awkwardly all by myself, when I heard the sound of a new pair of feet approaching.

  Before I could turn, I heard a glottal utter of surprise, the kind straight men make when they realise they’ve just brought home a tranny. I turned to see the teen’s conservative grandfather backing away from the living room, his arms held up as if in self-defense.

  “Um... sorry?!” I called out after Grandpa. The image of a bikini-clad woman on his sofa must have been seared onto his retinas. I felt really bad for the poor man.

  I’d just finished readjusting my skimpy bikini top when Grandma trudged back in. I gave her Lori’s address and she helped me make the call, even providing her name and telephone number for reference. The locksmith would be here in under an hour, she reported. Awesome!

  Just then, Grandpa returned holding a white terry cloth bathrobe in his outstretched arm. His face was turned away and he promptly retreated to where he came from after I took the garment. Thanking him, I quickly pulled on the nicked hotel bathrobe and wrapped it around myself.

  Grandma kindly invited me to stay with them while waiting for the locksmith, but I was worried about Pam so I gave her a hug and said I’d be okay. “Mahalo, kupunawahine. Thanks, Grandma.”

  PAM

  To be honest, I felt lousy about not going with Ning, and I was still shaken by her rage and outburst as she stormed off. I did feel guilty that I allowed my bashfulness to hold me back, but I’ve always been brought up to be a decent girl.

  I don’t normally even step out of my room to go to the kitchen or living room without wearing my bra, let alone walk around the house in my panties... unless I’m home alone. Even if it’s 2am and I need to run out to switch off the water heater, and all the lights in the house are switched off and everyone is asleep, I still put on my shorts.

  Lest you conclude that I’m getting loose in Hawaii, let me explain that this awkward circumstance arose from us having travelled for three months without knowing when we’d next get the chance to use a washing machine for free. If you were in my shoes, I suspect you’d do unnatural things like take off your bra and shorts in a backyard, too!

  Burdened by tremendous guilt, I rationalised that it made sense for us to split our efforts. If Ning was going to get help from the neighbours, I could maybe find a way to get into the house. After all, we were on the ground floor, right?

  I walked around the house trying each window. There were wired screens over the windows – very common in Hawaiian houses to keep insects out. To my delight, the pins holding the screens were all on the outside of the house, so technically, I could remove the screen to access the louvered windows. How I was going to climb through the louvred windows though, I hadn’t yet figured out.

  The house was old and most of the metal screens were rusty, so I couldn’t even shift the pins that held the screens in place. But I did manage to find one at the side of the house that was loose. I pulled open the screen and forced the louvred windows open so that I could at least peer into the house.

  But there was no way I could remove the windowpanes to climb in. I could try and break in, but I recalled Lori telling us proudly that she had just upgraded her home security system. Probably not worth risking police arrest or deportation for.

  Gloomily, I shuffled my feet around the backyard, doing a thorough sweep to try and find a piece of wire. How hard could it be to find some when there was a washing machine and dryer out here and other junk Lori had thrown out? Perhaps if I could find one, Ning could finally pick the lock!

  I prayed silently for God to help me and for a moment, I did believe I would find something.

  As I neared a tuft of tall grass, a garden lizard scuttled across my path. I ignored it. How ironic if that was the same lizard that had triggered this whole crisis! Better not tell the BFF lest she skewer me to a tree...

  I really hate fighting with Ning. There’s always this painful heaviness between us when that happens and it takes a while for it to dissipate. We’re both Libra girls who cherish harmony, so squabbles and confrontations are never easy to handle. And when we fight, it’s just difficult to be around other people and act as if nothing’s happened, or to sit across from each other at lunch without brooding and having the whole world know we’ve just had a bad fight.

  Sigh.

  I felt depressed. I couldn’t find any wire and my hands were all dusty and black from trying to pry open rusty windows and shifting junk around in the backyard. I really wasn’t sure what else to do except wait for Ning to come back. I wished I’d gone with her. She had been away for quite a while now. Hopefully she’d had better luck than me.

  I settled down on the steps of the house and rested my face despondently in the palms of my hands. This was the worst day of my life. I wished I could just dig a hole in the garden and bury myself in there. Even with the damn lizard.

  Just then, I heard the sound of shoes on gravel from the top of the slope and I raised my eyes expectantly. A tall girl in a white bathrobe was sauntering towards me. I shielded the sun from my eyes and squinted to get a better look. I could recognise that gait anywhere. Ning was back, but why was she wearing a bathrobe?

  NING

  Crossing the road, I walked back down the slope to Lori’s house and found the BFF sitting quietly on the steps near our parked convertible.

  “Hey you,” I said, taking a seat next to the forlorn girl.

  “Hey,” Pam said softly, hugging her knees.

  I wasn’t angry anymore, since I’d found a solution to the problem. But I did feel like a jackass for my behaviour earlier. Angry people say angry things they don’t mean, and I knew I’d been very harsh. I cleared
my throat and tried to sound normal. “FYI. The locksmith’s coming in an hour.”

  “Okay,” Pam nodded, kicking the sand at her feet. The hurt in her voice was evident.

  There was an awkward silence when we spotted the same garden lizard in front of us, swaggering in the sun like one of the Beatles crossing Abbey Road. The cocky lizard looked like it totally owned Lori’s place and I wanted to hurl a shoe at it.

  Pam broke the stillness by explaining that she’d been walking around the house trying to find a way in but hadn’t been successful because all the windows were sealed shut and all doors locked. “I tried my best, Ning.”

  I bit my tongue because I thought she really hadn’t. You could have come with me to find help, Pam, but you selfishly made me do it alone, the angry streak in me wanted to accuse. But I decided it was simply wiser to just let it go. I sighed and adjusted the scratchy bathrobe as we waited for our knight in shining armour to arrive.

  He did eventually show up, two hours later. Grandma came by after an hour to say that our locksmith would be an hour late. It was his lunch break. We had grown accustomed by then to Hawaiian “rubber time”, so we just grit our teeth and waited it out.

  So much for a handsome knight! The locksmith turned out to be a bald, paunchy man of 60 who drove a noisy, gas-spluttering, patched-up tin can masquerading as a vehicle. His car looked older than my grandparents. (And my grandpa has been dead for over 30 years.)

  The locksmith pried open our door with his tools in two minutes flat, and we found ourselves US$150 poorer. So much for a valiant knight, I thought sullenly as I watched the locksmith smugly stuff the money into his pocket and pull away.