Shadow Play by Barbara Ismail Read Free Book Online Page B

brushing her hands against her sarong , and whipped the dishtowel off her shoulder. She smiled shyly.
    Maryam introduced herself and Rubiah, and the woman’s face fell. “I am Kak Nurhayati, and this is my mother,” she said stiffly. Her mother watched them all without rising, her face now expressionless. “I’m Ghani’s aunt.” Nurhayati added. She watched Maryam without moving.
    Maryam cleared her throat and once more explained herself. “ Kak Hasnah said that Ghani may have brought, um, that girl, to stay here,” Rubiah broke a long silence. “We thought that might be important, you know.”
    Ghani’s grandmother made the decision to speak. “That horrible girl. I told him,” She said, ostensibly addressing her daughter, “I said, ‘what have you done, you stupid boy! Are you leaving your family for her?’”
    She turned for a moment and tore apart a pod, sending petai spattering over the ground. “‘Just keep her here for the night, Nenek,’ he said, ‘I’ll send her home to Kuala Krai tomorrow.’ ‘You will, will you?’ I told him. ‘You think she’ll go? She came all the way up here to find you and make your family miserable.’
    He told me he was sending her back the next day, so I said I’d keep her for that night. But I told him, ‘Don’t fool around with me, Ghani. Right after breakfast she’s out of here, I mean it. If you don’t come back here for her, I’ll push her out onto the road.’ Didn’t I, Yati?” She turned to her daughter. “I didn’t want any part of it, but I didn’t want him wandering around all night with her trailing behind him complaining for the entire kampong to hear.”
    â€œShe wasn’t happy,” explained Nurhayati.
    Her mother snorted. “Not happy? I’ll say. She was furious: seperti ular berbelit-belit , like a snake rising over its coils.”
    Maryam and Rubiah had squatted down in front of the older woman and, at this point, Nurhayati did too. Maryam produced a pack of Mamat’s Rothman’s cigarettes, and offered one to each woman. Nurhayati haltingly accepted one, and her mother reached behind her to pull out the ingredients for a betel quid.
    â€œI prefer this,” she explained, smoothening out the leaf and cutting off slices of the sireh nut. “I never got used to cigarettes; too modern for me.” She smiled; revealing the blackened teeth and red gums of the betel chewer, and methodically added some tobacco and lime to the tapak sireh she rolled up and stuck into her cheek next to her back molars. This completed, she continued.
    â€œShe started to complain to me, after Ghani left, but I told her straight out, ‘Don’t talk to me about Ghani. He’s my grandson. What do you think you’re doing here? You just go to sleep and get ready to leave in the morning, you.’” She chewed placidly and then spit over her shoulder. “And loud? I was so embarrassed. Everyone could hear our business, especially in the middle of the night like that. Aduh , what a disaster!”
    Nurhayati suddenly remembered her manners. “Tea, coffee?” she asked rising, but Maryam and Rubiah begged her to sit down instead. “Don’t trouble yourself, please! We’ve just had tea at your brother’s house. Really, we don’t want to bother you!”
    She allowed herself to be convinced, and squatted on her heels, holding the cigarette between her thumb and forefinger and taking a deep drag. She took over the narrative from her mother, who was for the moment immersed in her betel. “I gave her a cup of coffee in the morning. Ghani came over early to get her, and when I saw him, I gave him a smack on the side of the head. Idiot! Too good-looking for his own good.” His grandmother cackled sadly at that.
    â€œAlways been a problem. Anyway, he took her with him,