Running From The Boogeyman

Brzzt brzzt brrr-

I had jolted awake even before my phone (my new phone!) completed its 4-cycle buzzing pattern for incoming messages. That's how I knew a message had arrived, you see. Leila had made it clear when she gave me the phone last week, showing me how to turn it to silent mode, how to tell apart a message from a call just from the buzzing pattern.

Have I mentioned? My new phone!

I instinctively squinted the moment the screen flashed on, and fought to keep my eyes open to read the message. In my haste and excitement I keyed in the wrong password twice, but got it right the third time (curse you sleepy fingers!). And then there it was, a glowing envelope, the start of the Game. As it unfolded, its contents spilled across the screen.

"3:00 AM - MESSAGE FROM LEILA - HIDE NOW, THE BOOGEYMAN IS COMING~ =)"

The Game was on! I flung the covers aside, phone gripped hard in my hand, and stealthily crept across my room and opened the door as quietly as I could manage. Just a crack, at first, as Leila told me to, just enough to see if anyone was out there.

But there was no-one. Not yet, anyway. Just pitch darkness, though I could swear I saw a tiny glow wink out from beneath the door to Leila's bedroom. A-ha, I thought, that's the light from your phone when you sent me the message! I patted myself on the back for that bit of deductive reasoning, then continued my journey to the utility closet on the far side of the corridor.

Because I had planned my route and practiced it many times in the afternoon, I was in the closet less than 10 seconds later. I settled down on the wooden flooring, and fumbled around till I found Mr Pickles, from where I had stashed him earlier. I smiled to myself, recalling how Leila had warned me that this Game of hide-and-seek would really test my patience. Puh-leeese, no-one's better than me at planning for things like this!

From downstairs, I heard scuffling against the front door, like boney claws against chalkboards. I recalled being frightened by those sounds, back when they first started a few months back, but Leila, Leila she explained that those were just the Boogeyman saying that the Game was beginning. It's like us saying ready or not here we come, she said. That wasn't so scary anymore, after that.

I gripped Mr Pickles in a bear hug, the excitement building up in my chest. I was suddenly seized by a compelling urge to turn on my phone, and admire this unexpected gift from Leila again. I had to settle for feeling its smooth buttons in the dark, as Leila's warning not to make any sound or even flash any lights from where I was hiding sounded off in my head. The smile came unbidden to my lips when I thought back to the day that Leila finally decided to tell me about the Game.

Listen, Leila had said one day, listen. You know those sounds you hear at night, sometimes? You know how you cried and thought they were from a monster? Well, you're right! But it's a Game, you see. And if you want to play too, you can! You just need to hide, and not let the Boogeyman catch you, and if you do, you'll get to keep this new phone I'm giving you. Yes, keep it! It'll be your very own phone!

Have I mentioned, my own phone! I had thought, briefly, of how Leila could ever afford to buy me a phone, but she was 15 this year and already doing summer jobs, so I guess it was about time she bought something nice for her sister. She's awesome that way.
BANG! The front door slammed, and then I heard the Boogeyman shuffle across the hall, and begin climbing the steps, one heavy footstep after the other, lurching, lurching to the top. If Mr Pickles could breathe, surely he would have been strangled by me by now, the way I was gripping him.

At one point, the Boogeyman missed a step, and I heard him slump against the railings as he uttered a Curse Word. I had to clamp my mouth shut to stifle a giggle - imagine, a Boogeyman tripping over himself!

Louder and louder the footsteps grew, and soon he had reached the top, just steps away from where I was hiding. I heard him claw the door to Leila's room, and then, for the first time, since I was in the corridor instead of in my room, I heard the Boogeyman speak.

"Leila... Leila... I know you're in there... let me in..."

His voice, gravelly and slurred, like he had just awoken from a long nap, chilled me to the bone. So this was what the Boogeyman was really saying, all those times I heard the moaning from my room! I then heard the Boogeyman try the doorknob to Leila's room, but it rattled as the lock held. Silly girl, I thought. If you lock it, he'd surely know you're in there! And if he finds you, I'll win the Game!

"Leila... Leila... if you don't let me in, I'm going to your sister's room... Leila..."

Silence. Then, from the inky darkness, I heard a soft click as the door unlocked.

A pang of guilt shot through my heart. Was this why the Boogeyman had never come to my room all along? Was Leila giving up easily today because it was my first time playing? I seemed to recall it taking a lot longer the last few times for the Boogeyman to find Leila, that he would stay outside and moan for what seemed like hours before he gave up and went away.

I almost jumped when the phone buzzed again in my hand. I looked down and unlocked the phone, trying my best to keep the light away from the crack beneath the closet door. There, the second message from Leila.

"3:15 AM - MESSAGE FROM LEILA - RMBR, DON'T GET CAUGHT NO MATTER WHAT! =)"

I smiled. She was letting me win this time. She really was the best sister ever (and I was going to be able to keep my new phone!).

Leila's door creaked noisily as the Boogeyman opened it and lurched in. With a slam, the door closed, lock clicking like a final postscript. Muffled noises then, words I couldn't make out, some banging on furniture. Oh Leila, you can't run from the Boogeyman once he's in your room! There's nowhere to hide!

The noises continued after that, just like when I was in my own room the past few times, shaking like a leaf in the darkness. I wasn't afraid this time though, after knowing it was just a Game Leila played, a Game I was finally allowed to join.

I must have fallen asleep after, because when the soft knocks came on the other side of my closet door, the pins and needles had fully festered in my legs. I almost let out a yelp - how did the Boogeyman know I was here?

"Hey, it's me, Leila. The Game is over. You've won tonight, you can go back to your room now."

There's no better feeling in the world than hearing confirmation that you've won a competition. I opened the door, and found Leila crouched outside, a weary smile on her face. I noticed her dishelleved hair, the streaks of sweat and tears on her face, and briefly thought it would be pretty fun too to have the Boogeyman chase you as you tried to run away. That was another Game all by itself.

As she ushered me back to my room, I caught a glimpse from within through the door which had been left ajar.

"Leila, isn't that..."

She caught my gaze, and pushed me back towards my room. "Yes, that's Dad. He... came in to help me with the Boogeyman. You know, to scare him off. Don't wake him now, he's sleeping."

Back in my room, under the covers, I hugged my new phone as I thought about this awesome Game Leila had introduced me to, and when the next Game would come. Listen, Leila had said, we'll play this Game as long as we have to, and the moment you lose, I'm taking the phone back!

But Leila wouldn't do that. Not Leila. As I said, she's the best sister, ever.

Why Do Court Trials Take So Long?

I recently came across a forum post asking why court trials take so long. I offered this reply:

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I know you’re on Reddit, but do you have a wife, husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, waifu, husbando or significant other? (I’m not suaning you, I’m just trying to make sure my analogy below is relevant. No offense ah, please ah, we all one people one nation.) OK ah, even if don’t have, just pretend have, otherwise down here my story no point.

For convenience, let’s assume you are male and got wife. Now, pay close attention – last Friday, your boss (let’s call him Lao Ban) jio you go KTV with him. You are hesitant, cause you know his KTV not clean, plus your wife will kaopeh. But he’s boss leh, what to do?

So you tell wife you going “business development”, then you and some colleagues go (Ah Ter, Ah Kow, Ah Mao all kena drag along) cause these things got more people then more fun right. Most importantly, you are cocksure you never do anything wrong at the KTV. When Lao Ban order girl for you, you say don’t want, no thanks, tomorrow going temple. When a girl nevertheless come to sit with you and say “let’s pretend I’m a stockbroker… you want to see my assets?” you awkward awkward smile and say sorry paiseh not tonight haha market all crash also.

That night, when you go home, you are damn bloody sure you never do anything wrong. So you go to sleep with clear conscience, happy that wife will never find out and you can put this behind you.

HONG GAN. Next morning come, you wake up to find your wife angry liao. Why leh? Cause you la, your receipt never clear from pocket, she find out you went to lapsup KTV and even paid for “5 girls”. In one short hour, your wife kill your dog, throw your PS4, call all your friends and relatives, then now crying in the hall asking for divorce cause she “not as good as those young things”. She even refuse to see your Viscosity Test (note: if you haven’t kena this test before, be thankful).

Then you look to sky and cry, Lao Tian ah, why no justice, why no due process? If you can hear me, Jade Emperor / Guan Yin / God / Allah / Flying Spaghetti Monster, why don’t come down and help me??

BOOM – the heavens part, and Lao Lee come down. Young one, he says, come, let’s instill rule of law and let natural justice take its course. With a snap of his fingers, truth, justice and mercy flow forth and immediately the following takes place:

1. Before your wife chu power, she calmly and meticulously asks you questions about last night. She then goes on to do her own fact-checking – calling KTV la, calling your Lao Ban, calling your friends. She then looks at all the evidence and decides, ok, this bastard is guilty. Your wife here, she is the CAD.

2. Your wife’s best friend, Mimi, then comes over to your house to whack you one good one. Mimi is suited for this, cause she’s legally experienced and very bitchy. Both your parents and parents-in-law all come to see show and decide if you guilty, cause they are impartial, wise, and also at home got nothing to do cause you never call them for long time. Mimi is the AGC, and the parents / parents-in-law are the Judges in the Court.

3. You scared mah, hum mah, so you ask your brother come defend you and speak on your behalf. Your brother also go law school before, just that now he no job cause gahmen let 10 million lawyers join each year. Your brother is your lawyer.

4. All relevant witnesses now also have to get their own representatives to speak, cause now serious stuff leh, must have best lawyer to save them. This not only includes your colleagues and Lao Ban, but also the KTV girls, the waiters at the KTV, the credit card company people who processed your payment, etc etc. A lot of people for one KTV leh.

5. But people also not free all the time. While your Lao Ban is explaining what happened to the Court, all the other witnesses waiting outside your house also got their own things to do. You ever got organise party for more than 10 people before? Had experience trying to deconflict multiple schedules before? This is like that lor, x10. And imagine if every time one witness or his lawyer not free, then the whole trial cannot continue, cause everyone must be there same time. Siao boh.

6. Then after everyone all tell their story, your Judges look at the clock and say, wah lau we have been here for 1 year already lor. Some stories we have forgotten by now, some stories so interrupted that we have to go read transcript to have whole picture. Judges also human mah, so they also need time to review all the evidence.

In summary, by the time your Judges have heard from each of the KTV girls, your colleagues, your Lao Ban, seen all the documentary evidence, reviewed CCTV footage, heard your own evidence, evaluated how honest you were, then decided on whether it was you or your didi who had more fun at the KTV last night, it’s really been a couple of years already.

But at least your dog no die, your PS4 still here, right?

I'm Ready To Translate Important Things

My mum recently sent me a fairly long text in Mandarin. I asked for a summary, and was told firmly that I should soldier my way through it and to brush up my Mandarin if necessary.

I rose to the occasion, and sent back a translated version to demonstrate my understanding of the fable. I haven't received any more fables from her since smile emoticon

Here are the respective texts to share:

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[闭上嘴是最高的修行]

一个流浪汉，走进寺庙，看到菩萨坐在莲花台 上众人膜拜，非常羡慕。

流浪汉：我可以和你换一下吗?

菩萨：只要你不开口。

流浪汉坐上了莲花台。他的眼前整天嘈杂纷 乱，要求者众多。他始终忍着没开口。

一日，来了个富翁。

富翁：求菩萨赐给我美德。磕头，起身，他的 钱包掉在了地下。流浪汉刚想开口提醒，他想 起了菩萨的话。

富翁走后，来的是个穷人。

穷人：求菩萨赐给我金钱。家里人病重，急需 钱啊。

磕头，起身，他看到了一个钱包掉在了地下。

穷人：菩萨真显灵了。他拿起钱包就走。流浪 汉想开口说不是显灵，那是人家丢的东西;可他 想起了菩萨的话。

这时，进来了一个渔民。

渔民：求菩萨赐我安全，出海没有风浪。

磕头，起身，他刚要走，却被又进来的富翁揪 住。为了钱包，两人扭打起来。富翁认定是渔 民拣走了钱包，而渔民觉得受了冤枉无法容 忍。流浪汉再也看不下去了，他大喊一声：“住 手!”把一切真相告诉了他们。一场纠纷平息 了。

你觉得这样很正确吗?

菩萨：你还是去做流浪汉吧。你开口以为自己 很公道，但是，穷人因此没有得到那笔救命钱; 富人没有修来好德行，渔夫出海赶上了风浪葬 身海底。要是你不开口，穷人家的命有救了;富 人损失了一点钱但帮了别人积了德;而渔夫因为 纠缠无法上船，躲过了风雨，至今还活着。

流浪汉默默离开了寺庙……

许多事情，该怎样，就怎样。等待它顺其自然 的发生，结果会更好。可面对现实的时候，有 谁又知道，事物本身该有的结果是什么样子呢?

静观其变，是一种能力!

顺其自然，是一种幸福!

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Ah Beng see Buddha so cool on lotus seat, he chao gian. He jio Buddha give him sit. Buddha say want sit is can sit la, but must shaddup.

Ah Beng sit lor. Shaddup onli ma, how hard.

Rich man come pray for virtue then drop purse. Ah Beng think this is goondu, but he diam diam.

Poor man come pray for money, see purse, ho sei! Ah Beng think you just lucky lor, but still diam diam.

Fisherman come pray for smooth sailing, halfway rich man come back and anyhow point finger. Of course fight lor, one say steal my money la, one say where got.

Ah Beng buay tahan. He shout loud loud "I got see everything!" So money return to rightful owner.

Buddha come back, say wa lau simple instruction also cannot follow. If you neh say anything poor man got money save family. Then rich man also donate and is got virtue. Then fisherman fight until no time to sail, but now he go out then storm come die. See la you, see la. Tell your mother.

Moral of story: If Buddha tell you do, you better blardy do. People Buddha leh.

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Waldo

One of the fiercest quarrels I had with my brother was over, come to think of it, a single hypothetical.

(In fairness, that was years ago. I'm wiser now - why quarrel with someone who, in times of medical emergency, will then be both fully justified and thoroughly motivated to open you up and stick all manner of pointy bits in you?)

And the hypothetical was, would we ever adopt a dog again?

A spot (a-ha, ha-ha) of context first. Years ago, my family adopted a Dalmatian from the SPCA. There we were, waiting in an open area as puppy after puppy were led out for the meet-and-greet. There was the little black dog I would have named Shadow (too hard to see at night, my mum said, we would step on him), the long thin dog which was a smidge too aggressive (what an unfriendly bugger, my mum said, so ugly still so fierce) and then, finally, Fido.

There weren’t any digital cameras in those days, so all we have left today are a couple of yellowing photographs and a vault full of memories. His endearing fear of thunder, the way his spots darkened when his fur got wet, that time he intervened when my neighbour’s dogs attacked me, even how he ate a plastic bag once and my brother and I had to toss a coin to determine who got to pull it out of his bottom (I won).

Fido even featured in one of my Chinese compositions, and so inspiring were my adventures with him that I scored the sole “A” I ever wrung out of Huang Lao Shi – proving also that it was important to know and cater to your audience (she loved dogs, so naturally Fido had to die saving me from a fire).

My point to my brother was simple – we didn’t have enough time or energy to properly care for another pet. Yet neither of us budged. As the incumbent heir I refused to even discuss the subject. Meanwhile my brother chipped away at us patiently, one day showing us cute pictures of puppies, and the other claiming that Fido had appeared in a dream and given his blessings for us to move on and adopt another.

This standoff was broken, temporarily, by an unassuming orange cat named Waldo.

I can't account with precision how Waldo came to be a permanent guest in our house. That's the nature of cats, I guess, quietly yet insistently slinking their way into those crevices of our lives which can accommodate them. If dogs are like pimples, loudly and unabashedly announcing their presence or arrival, then cats are far more wily, stealthy, eluding detection till such time as they deigned to let you know... just like a receding hairline (sob).

Waldo's charm lay in his discretion - he knew just when to stay out of your way, and when to purr and curl up next to you. Unlike most cats, he was also comfortably affectionate around humans, even allowing my brother at one point to simultaneously yodel and thrust him up in the sky a la The Lion King. I do believe pictures of this exist.

What then was the peak of my friendship with Waldo, you may ask? Unquestionably, it was that singular stormy night when I was roused out of deep sleep by a slightly damp pussy cat, all balled up and gently-snoring on the pillow next to my face.

At first, I freaked. Deeply-embedded instincts flared, muscles tensed. Back then, I was unused to waking so close to such a potentially charged primal force of nature, serene and graceful in its restive state, yet capable of reaching fireball levels of fury if disturbed or awoken too early.

But as my night vision rallied, I saw that it was only Waldo, just plain old Waldo, taking shelter from the rain outside, choosing to seek refuge next to me. To me!

My heart burst with joy. I fetched towels to gingerly mop up the worst of the rain from his fur, then fluffed the pillow, then laid an old hanky over him. As I drifted back off to sleep, I remembered wondering if he would still be there in the morning, or if a cat-shaped indent in my pillow would be all that remained of our encounter.

(Interestingly, the overwhelming response to this story seems to be one of disgust. Friends and family ask how I could let a stray cat onto my bed, much less my pillow. I point out that he’s not a stray, that cats are very clean animals, and that I would have been heartless to shoo him away. I also try to ignore the many occasions since where I witness Waldo nonchalantly prowling in the drains around the neighbourhood.)

Waldo left, never to return, the day my brother adopted a shih-tzu named Soda (another story for another day). I moved out shortly after, but found myself dwelling on him from time to time, especially on cold rainy nights. My fears compounded when I learned from my parents that Waldo’s owners had moved away and apparently abandoned him, going so far as to remove his collar before tossing him out.

There’s a happy ending, not to worry. I visited my parents recently, and they spoke of how the neighbourhood had adopted Waldo, such that he spent his days wandering from house to house, peddling nothing but his company in return for warmth and hospitality.

And I saw this was true, for when I left that evening, I caught a flash of orange as he strutted into my neighbour’s house, heeding calls for dinner. He was a bit more bony, a bit more stringy than when I last cared for him, but it was unmistakably the very same Waldo.

Now, if only Huang Lao Shi still accepted compositions.

Zodiac

I was born in the Year of the Rat. This will soon become relevant.

I visited Brenda's extended family this past weekend for CNY, and they are equal parts warm, outgoing and gregarious. Definitely not a quiet bunch. So you can just imagine how charged the atmosphere was when the gaming tables opened.

You see, gaming does... something to Chinese folk. It's the mutagen to turtles, the latex to billionaires, the Hermione to Hogwarts. It changes them, elevates them to something greater than what they were.

Barely ten minutes in, the din from the gaming tables permeated every part of the house. Intrigued, I sauntered over.

I saw ten people crowded around a table, cards held close to chests, stacks of crisp notes held down by oranges on the table. Ah, Twenty-One. Brenda was banker, and when I approached she grinned at me and gestured at the little money hill in front of her.
"She's terrible! She's been cleaning us out!" her aunt exclaimed. "I can't stand these Tigresses and their luck this year!" Dejected faces all around confirmed that Brenda was, indeed, making a killing.

(For the uninitiated, Chinese tradition has it that there are 12 Zodiac animals, each assigned to a year. Legend goes that eons ago there was a jailbreak in the celestial zoo, with the result that 12 animals broke free and regained their freedom. Since then, the years have been ordered in the sequence that the animals escaped – the Rat, then the Ox, the Tiger, Rabbit... Dragon... Cow Elephant Hamster Cat Panda Koala Whale.)

Then something happened.

Brenda started losing.

It began with just a couple of meh hands – too low for her to stay, then too high for the risk to be manageable. Then, slowly, painfully, inexorably, her money pile dwindled away. Brenda became gloomy.

As her relatives cackled at the turn in fortune, another aunt suddenly piped up. "Hanting! What year are you born in? Are you a Koala? Brenda's luck has changed since you came!"

“Rat, Rat, I’m a Rat!”

“Oh my!” a cousin chimed in, “Rats are terrible luck for Tigresses this year! Everyone knows that! Guess you’re washing all of Brenda’s luck away!” A murmur of agreement resounded around the table. “Please stay ok! When you’re here you suppress Brenda’s Tiger luck!”

Brenda turned and gently, sweetly said, “Don’t mind them. They’re just kidding. Stay, please stay.”

(As an aside, scientists have recently made advances in understanding how human instinct works. They posit that the human brain is able to take in many pieces of information and then subconsciously arrive at a conclusion even before the conscious intellect establishes recognizable links. An everyday manifestation of instinct is in the way we recognize danger – an out-of-place smell, an unfamiliar sight, is enough to forewarn one of impending doom.)

I voluntarily left and meandered over to the TV, thinking that I should probably just let her carry on with her game. Minutes later, she whooped and yelled uncontrollably, “I’ve just had three blackjacks in a row!”

My mind raced. The implications were enormous.

What if luck and Zodiac compatibility had a quantifiable relationship? What if, given a large enough sample size and a controlled environment, I could uncover and bend the hidden rules of the cosmos to my will?

Consider the casinos. It would be effortless to design a system that determined your Zodiac sign when your ID was scanned upon entry. We could then funnel people to play at specific tables, where the dealer would of course be your opposing Zodiac sign. Big roller born in-the-year-of-the-Tiger having a flaming hot streak of luck? No problem. Let’s send over five Ratty hostesses to fawn over you and suck you dry.

Lost in thought, I almost didn’t notice Brenda returning and taking a seat next to me. “Sorry sorry,” she said, “it’s just that my luck really changed when you were there. Not saying you’re my jinx or anything, you know it was all just for fun! I was so sad when you went away, you know that I really –”

“Brenda! It’s your turn to be banker again!”

“Coming!” And she was gone.

See, that’s gaming for you. And not even the kind that I like.