Where the Sunrise is Red

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Where the Sunrise is Red Page 4

by Chan Ling Yap


  Ruth could not digest all that was said. What she learnt was that they were surrounded by danger. If she had any inkling at all about these dangers, she would have tried her hardest to dissuade Mark from coming here. Now it might be too late.

  “Perhaps, with your permission, I’ll accompany you to the rest house.” Hugh was embarrassed. He had said too much. “It is the least I can do.”

  Chapter 6

  MAY SLIPPED INTO the hut, a tiny featureless single-storey one-room building with a zinc roof, grey cement flooring and an outside toilet. A woman was kneeling on the floor, bent over a pile of ironing. A basket, half-filled with freshly laundered shirts, stood to her left. At the far end was a stove, blackened by a coal fire. A plastic washing basin stood on the floor beside it. She glanced up, saw May and continued her ironing with not even a nod as her greeting. To the right of her, suspended from the ceiling, a faded brown sarong swung gently. A wail rose from it and a dimpled fist, the size of a chestnut, appeared above the sarong’s opening. Another cry followed. Bee Ying propped up the iron and reached out to jiggle the sarong. The crying stopped. Bee Ying returned to her ironing. Throughout, she ignored May completely.

  “Piu soh,” said May with as much respect as she could muster. She addressed Bee Ying as ‘cousin’s wife’. She knew Bee Ying would consider her impudent if she were to address her by name. “Is Chun here?”

  The corners of Bee Ying’s fleshy lips curled. “Can you not see? Look around. It is not as though this is a house with many rooms.”

  “Will he be back soon?”

  Bee Ying knelt back on her heel and glared. She touched the small of her back. It was sore with the hours spent ironing on the floor. She did not like May and made no attempt to conceal her dislike. She suspected her husband’s concern for May was more than cousin’s love.

  “How would I know about his comings and goings?” she hissed.

  “I need to ask him if he could help me find my master. He is missing, probably kidnapped.”

  “Master? Huh! You mean your lover! Well then,” replied Bee Ying returning to her ironing, “too bad. I don’t know where Chun is. I can’t help you.”

  “Please, I must speak to Chun. I need his help.”

  “And do you think I would tell you even if I knew where he is? It is your fault that he has disappeared.”

  “Why is it my fault? Why has he disappeared? Please piu soh. Please help me.”

  “You come between my husband and me and dare ask me for help?” Bee Ying snarled, baring her teeth. Spittle flew out of her mouth. Tiny pinpoints of bubble landed on May. She set the iron down with a bang. The iron sizzled, sending heat and steam into the air. The baby wailed. His piteous cry pierced the air. “Get out! Get out before I take the broom to you.”

  “I have nowhere to go. I can’t go to my parents and get them involved.”

  “Get out!” Bee Ying screamed. “I don’t care. Get out I say!”

  ***

  Poor, poor Ruth, thought Hugh. She had looked wretched when they met earlier in the day. He hated covering up for Mark.

  Hugh crossed his legs and leaned back on the over-sized stuffed armchair. It smelt of dank cotton. Overhead, the ceiling fan droned. The sitting room in the rest house doubled as a bar. All the guests, it would appear, were male and were seated at the bar at the far end of the room. Ruth would be the only female guest in the rest house. Another reason, he thought, why she should not stay in this place for long. He would tell her so gently when the time was opportune.

  He rose to his feet when he saw Ruth enter the lounge. With her hair tied back into a ponytail and the scattering of freckles on her nose, she looked younger, more vulnerable than she had done earlier. Heads swivelled to stare. Hugh pulled a rattan armchair out for her. She gave him a weak smile.

  A boy in a starched white uniform and with black hair sleeked behind his ears came bearing a tray. On it were pale blue teacups and saucers, a mismatched teapot, a milk jug, a sugar bowl, its rim slightly chipped, and a plate of sandwiches.

  “I have taken the liberty of ordering sardine sandwiches if that’s all right with you. It is the safest option. They are canned sardines,” he apologised. “Food is still short. Mashed up with a squeeze of lime and tomato ketchup, it is palatable.” Hugh picked up the plate and offered it to Ruth. She seemed not to have heard. Her hands lay immobile on her lap. There was not a flicker of response or interest. Embarrassed, Hugh returned the plate to the table.

  The boy poured out the tea. The sound of liquid pouring into cups bridged the awkward silence.

  Ruth watched silently at the golden brew spouting from the brown earthen teapot into the blue cups. Without warning, a surge of anger rose in her. What did it matter what was in the sandwiches? What mattered was finding Mark. And so far this man had nothing positive to offer. Why was he telling me about sardines? She felt the air squashed out of her lungs. Two red spots appeared on her face. She placed her hands on her ears. She heaved; she couldn’t breathe.

  Aghast, Hugh half rose before settling back to his chair. He didn’t know how to comfort Ruth. “I am sorry,” he said. “Forgive me for rambling on. I was just trying to help. The driver said you have had nothing the whole day. You have to eat. At least drink something. You won’t be able to cope if you do not eat and drink.”

  Ruth lips lifted minutely at the corners. The concern in his face touched her. Her anger subsided as fast as it rose. It was not his fault.

  Hugh coaxed her to breathe deeply. “Are you all right?” he asked after a while. Many of the other guests were looking their way.

  Hugh followed her eyes. “Planters and visitors from Kuala Lumpur mainly. No women amongst them, I am afraid.”

  Loud voices intruded. Two men were having an argument at the bar. Red faced, their voices grew louder and louder. The bartender tried to usher them out of the room. They turned on him, shouting abuses at the bewildered young man.

  “Too many gin and tonics. Hard drinking is a problem amongst many planters and tin miners,” Hugh explained apologetically without being prompted.

  “What about Mark? Was it his problem?” Ruth’s question took him by surprise for she had not spoken since she sat down.

  A shadow crossed Hugh’s brown eyes.

  “No, he didn’t have a drinking problem. Not as far as I know.”

  “Did he have any other problems?” Ruth could feel the dampness in her hands. She was sweating.

  Hugh took a moment and then shook his head. He could see that she was worked up again. “Have you decided what you want to do?” He did not want Ruth to continue with a line of questioning that would force him to lie.

  A flicker of life rose in her eyes. “I would like to stay on. I want to be here when they find Mark.”

  “It is not safe.”

  “I am not leaving. I would like to see the place where he was taken.”

  Hugh saw the determination on her face. A sigh of exasperation escaped him. “Tanjong Malim,” he said with as much patience he could muster, “in fact the whole of the state of Perak is not a safe place for a woman, especially a white woman. The first act of war by insurgents was committed in this State. Three European planters were killed in Sungai Siput, just north of here. Please, for your own sake, return to Kuala Lumpur. I will keep you informed of developments. The company will, I am sure, take care of you.”

  Ruth shook her head. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “No, I am staying.”

  “Where would you stay?” he asked, surprised by her doggedness. He saw the set of her chin and lips. “In the rest house?”

  “No, not here. I will call Mark’s boss tomorrow. I will ask if I could use the bungalow. Mark is still an employee and the bungalow is still his for the time being.”

  “What would you do while you wait? It might take a long time.”

  “I need to find a job to pay my way.” Two bright spots reappeared on her face. “I don’t have much with me and I cannot access Mark�
�s bank account.”

  “What sort of job?”

  “A teaching job.” Ruth recalled Bill’s words at the bus stop. According to him, the education system was in a shambles after the war and good teachers were needed.

  “Have you taught before?”

  “I can teach English to the small ones.”

  Hugh saw the desperation in her face. He knew there was nothing he could say that would dissuade her.

  ***

  May hid behind a tree. She sighted Fu Yi several times in the back garden. Once she came out with a knife in hand to cut a papaya from its tree. Another time she came out to collect the washing. Still May didn’t venture near the bungalow. Instead she waited till the sun dipped into the horizon like a red ball of fire in its last throes and darkness threw a dark inky veil over everything. Slowly with stealthy steps she crept to the back door. She knocked, once, twice and then a rapid succession of small staccato raps. She saw a movement behind the curtain in the adjacent window. May saw Fu Yi and beckoned her to open the door. A flurry of noise followed. The door opened an inch.

  “You shouldn’t be here. The Master’s wife asked for you. The police have been as well. Please don’t get me into trouble. You promised you would not come back after this morning. You will have to go to the police and tell them what you know.”

  “I don’t know anything. I can’t go to the police. They won’t believe me. They torture you if they don’t believe you. Remember the number of people put in jail and then never heard of since. Please let me in. I have nowhere to go.”

  Fu Yi hesitated. Reluctantly she stepped back and allowed May to enter. With a quick glance around the backyard, she bolted the door and drew the window curtains shut. Fu Yi did not want to be party to this but she owed May. May had arranged for her employment when Fu Yi was down and out. She had been kind. Fu Yi knew about May’s relationship with the master. If the master returned, he would want to know that the cook had stood by May in hard times, that was if May was not involved in his disappearance.

  “I went to see if my cousin Chun could help find our master.”

  “Chun?” After that one involuntary word of surprise that sprang out of her mouth, Fu Yi kept silent. She had heard about Chun, the union man. Tanjong Malim was a small town, more a village really. Everybody knew what the others did. She wondered if May could be really so naive that she had no suspicions whatsoever about her cousin Chun. Under her lowered eyelids, she examined May’s face when May was not looking but averted her gaze when she sensed May looking her way.

  “Chun knows many people. In the past he proved himself adept in helping others. He helped find our neighbour’s son when he went missing. If I am to have his help I cannot go to the police or the military.”

  “Why?” the question shot out of Fu Yi’s mouth before she had time to think.

  “Chun has always warned against going to the police. My parents trust him; they have often said that Chun would look after me when they are gone and that I am to do his bidding. In any case, the police have not been helpful in the past.”

  Fu Yi had nothing to say in response. She agreed with May about the police. Still, she thought, May was too trusting. And May’s parents were old fools. Knowing May she would inevitably do as her parents told her. Fu Yi muttered under her breath. She did not want to be involved. What good would it do? She kept quiet, filing away this piece of information.

  “Chun is family. So I chose to rely on him instead of the police. Am I wrong?” May raised her eyes. They were clouded with doubt. “Would it be better to talk to the police? I thought Chun could use his connections to track Master Mark far better than them.”

  Fu Yi grunted and walked to the stove. She began to stir the contents of a pot burnt black from the charcoal fire. “Eat something,” she said. “You cannot think on an empty stomach.”

  ***

  A thud woke May up. The window shutters were closed even though it was stifling hot in the room. Another thud. She gathered the blanket that had fallen around her feet and sat upright.

  “It’s me, Chun.”

  May stood up; the blanket fell to the ground in a heap. She opened the shutters and peered through the bars. Chun’s face was in the shadows. Behind him moonlight lit up trees and turned leaves and branches to silver.

  “I was looking for you,” she whispered.

  “I know. We have him. What do you want us to do with him?”

  May froze. Her hand went to her heart. She could feel it beating wildly. “What do you mean? You have my master?”

  “Yes! You didn’t think I would let him drop you like a dead carcass after he had had his way with you? Bee Ying told me you are carrying his child, a half-caste that would smear your name forever. He will not marry you. You know that?” Chun’s voice rose to a furious whisper. “The best he would do is to give you a fistful of dollars. They treat our women like whores. They breed here and then return to their own country. Well, I won’t have it. I have him. We’ll dispose of him. Then we’ll rid you of the baby.”

  “No! Why are you doing this?”

  “To help you? Save your honour. If you didn’t want me to know about the baby, why did you tell my wife? You should know that I would not let any man sully you without punishment.”

  “I didn’t tell Bee Ying. I was just holding your baby when I ... I whispered to it that I am also expecting. I was so happy. I didn’t realised that Bee Ying was standing behind me. I begged her not to tell you. She laughed and called me a harlot.”

  “I’ll kill him for what he did to you.”

  “No! Please no! I love him. Let me go to him. I shall beg him not to tell if you let him go. Is he hurt?”

  Chun growled. “You stupid girl! He will promise you anything to be free. Once he is free, he will come for us.”

  “Please, please let me go to him.”

  “I have to go. I will speak to you when you talk sense. I could have had him killed immediately and perhaps that is what I should have done.”

  “No! No! Please...”

  But like the shadows on the wall, Chun had vanished.

  ***

  Mark lay trussed up with his wrists and ankles bound tight. A dirty piece of cloth was stuffed into his mouth. Blisters formed like red-crusted beads around his lips. A tape, used to bind his mouth, had cut into it. His forehead and cheeks were a crazy mosaic of wounds inflicted from fists and boots and streaked with blood that had long dried. Flies hovered around his wounds. He could not move; every time he struggled, the chain that secured him tightened him further to the tree trunk. At times he could hardly sustain the pain. They had not given him any water to drink nor food. They had not even allowed him to relieve himself. Mark watched as ants marched up his forearms and legs. He could smell the rank odour of urine, blood and sweat.

  From the other end of the camp, coarse laughter rose. Someone threw a stone at him. Powerless to defend himself, Mark could only screw shut his eyes and pray that they would miss.

  “Not so grand now. Not so handsome.” Chortling and obscenities followed while yet another stone pelted on Mark’s face.

  A young man rose and walked to Mark. Mark opened his eyes. From under his swollen eyelids, he saw the man, smooth of face, slim and about five feet six. Before Mark could blink, a foot swung his way. He had hardly time to register the kick when another followed, followed immediately by yet another and another. One connected his temple. Mark blacked out.

  The young man turned away. “We have to move camp and disperse; go our separate ways. Remember! Cover your tracks. Leave nothing and conceal everything.”

  “What about him?” asked one pointing at Mark, lying slumped on his side.

  “We’ll leave him. When they find him, the wild animals will have got to him first. By morning he will be dead. I can tell my cousin with a clear conscience that I did not kill him.”

  Chapter 7

  RUTH WOKE UP to bright sunshine. It streamed through the thin curtains into the room and lit up a h
aze of dust motes dancing in the air. She had slept fitfully, tossing and turning on the hard bed. Questions and thoughts tumbled through her mind throughout the night. The photographs of May and Mark haunted her. At intervals an owl screeched and an elephant trumpeted. Mosquitoes buzzed round the net hung over her bed. Geckos chirped. Strange sounds that became oddly comforting as the night wore on and sleep eluded her.

  She moved the mosquito net aside and swung her feet on to the mosaic floor. It felt oddly cool, for the air was already warm and sultry. She made her way to the bathroom and stripped off her nightdress. She stepped under the cold icy shower. No hot water. None was deemed needed in the hot climate. Ruth shivered and made short work of her wash.

  Towelling her hair dry, she changed quickly into a cotton frock and went out to the dining room. She had made a list of things she would do. She would breakfast quickly and wait for the car that Hugh had promised to send her.

  The breakfast room, where she had dined the previous evening, was almost full. The chatter stopped when she entered, a lone woman in a room full of men. An Indian boy in white addressed her as ‘memsahib’ and showed her to a table. She sat down. Self conscious that her every move was observed, she pretended a nonchalance that she did not feel. She became aware that someone was watching her intensely. She looked up to see Bill sitting at the next table. Before she could exclaim her surprise, he was already standing before her. “May I join you?” he asked, pulling back a chair.

 

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