The Real Estate Man

Braving the Rain

The Real Estate Man
by
Andrew Yip

This is a story of an extraordinary real estate man. The story
is not so much about real estate and property development,
but about a person living life to the full in the post-war years,
going through the change and challenge of modernization,
both in Singapore and in South China. It is a candid account
of his dream and his experiences, including strange
encounters with the paranormal. In a sense, it is a love story
of Chinatown, Singapore
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The Real Estate Man
By
Andrew Yip

You meet real estate men everywhere, but this real estate man
is different. He is not just an ordinary property agent who sells
a property for you, but has no story to tell you. Don, the real
estate man, may be an ordinary person, but he has achieved
the Dream of all men, living life to the full. The story reveals
that all of us can dream, but we must have courage and
intelligence to face the vicissitudes of life, no matter where we
are, no matter how rich or poor we are. We must be bold
enough to meet the change and challenge of time past, time
present and time future, and be positive in our attitude as we
experience them to the full. This love story of Chinatown is a
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fictional account of this dream.

Brief Review
See Singapore's Chinatown after the Japanese Occupation in the Fifties in its
original pulsating ambience, and taste love's nectar in its essence and pristine
purity. Take time to see in perspective life's looming shadows and gaze into the
private lives of people you would least expect to find in this part of Singapore in
the Fifties, a place "where dreams were often outgrown and discarded, and
sometimes turned into nightmares."

Revealing all in this book ……………
Unbridled passion, shady deals in high circles, communist subversion in the
former British colony, business intrigues as well as myopia in love, life, law and
politics.
Also stripped bare are the tragedies, helplessness and struggles of those who
could not cope with life's demands, or had been led astray by satanic powers in
God's world.
The book also brings to the reader vivid observations of a China from the
Seventies when the “Bamboo Curtain” was lifted and the first batch of
foreigners was allowed into the country to the present times, highlighting the
changes in the lives of her people from the days when everyone wore "blue" and
rode "bicycles" to the modern day of high fashion, high-tech and high-rise
living and emphasis on higher education and higher productivity, as well as
rapid industrialization and modernization.

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The Real Estate Man
A short story of Chinatown, Singapore

One
Deal that lasts a life-time
Donald or Don for short didn't think of himself as a particularly successful real estate man in
Chinatown. He didn't drive around in a flashy car or any super deluxe model. He didn't carry
around a fat checkbook like some people who were able to spot a good deal, and
straightaway jumped in with a deposit to secure a choice property. But he had abilities few
real estate men possessed. He could assess the worth of any property or the viability of any
property investment with consummate skill. He also could sell any property, whether good or
bad. There was a time when he could talk people into buying worthless properties, earned a
sizeable commission, but he admitted that it happened a long time ago when he was a novice
property agent.

Chinatown, Singapore 1955

At the age of twenty two, Don was indeed a very eligible bachelor. He stood five feet nine
inches tall and had a well-built body like an athlete. He had a fair complexion and sparkling
brown eyes and a handsome face that could launch a few movie or modeling contracts. He
laughed gaily and his laughter was often infectious. Altogether, he was a very attractive man.
But Don was unassuming and gentle in his dealings with people. He was always helpful and
forthright and tended to be trusting, a weakness that created many problems in his later life.
Don put on his ray-ban sunglasses. He looked distinguished and fashionable with the dark
glasses on his handsome face. He wore a dark blue tie with a long-sleeved shirt in light blue,
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and a pair of white 'shark's skin long pants. People in Chinatown were casual in the way they
dressed; some even walked around in their singlets and pyjamas trousers. Don walked slowly
down Keong Saik Road, looking at every house as though he was an architect or engineer. He
examined the structural columns and beams; he also looked at the windows. Sometimes, he
smiled when some call girls stared at him from the windows. His day had been full, and it
was far from over. He still had a long list of properties to arrange for viewing by prospective
buyers. Then suddenly a motorcycle caught Don's eye. He saw the familiar face of his cousin,
Wong Kim Ming. He yelled, 'Kim Ming, where are you going in such a hurry?'
Don always regarded Kim Ming as a Chinese scholar. He could not speak English at all, as he
was educated in a Chinese-medium school. Although he obtained a High School diploma, he
could not find a decent job. Don heard that he worked as a harbor board coolie, and
sometimes as an odd job laborer. Life must be tough for him, Don thought. Look at his tired
eyes and haggard look. He looked disheveled and unkempt. He knew Kim Ming to be a very
disgruntled person. He was frustrated and dismayed that people like him, educated in
Chinese, could not find any worthwhile job in Singapore. In contrast, the English-educated
class could always get a tidy job in a tidy office. Sometimes, Don was amazed to hear him
talk about class struggle and revolutions. He always avoided talking about serious matters
with this disgruntled young man, who felt that society owed him a living.

Coolies at work in the Singapore Harbor 1950s

'How is your father and sister, Mei? Don added.
'They are fine, thank you,' was the curt reply. 'I'm in a hurry to go to work,' he added. Kim
Ming then waved to Don and rode off with a burst of white smoke emitting from the
motorbike exhaust.
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But Don could not help but noticed that Kim Ming looked old and burnt out for his age,
though he was of the same age as Don. Life must be very hard for him working as a laborer
at the harbor go-downs, earning very little each day. Laborers like him were called coolies
(meaning “hard labor” in Chinese). They are hired by harbor contractors to carry heavy
things from go-downs or stores to ships or from junks and bum-boats to bigger vessels or godowns, whatever. The toils and tribulations in a coolie's life were shown clearly on Kim
Ming's dark and haggard face. There was no smile, just a grim and despairing look.
Kim Ming often blamed his parents for sending him to study in a Chinese school, which
taught him to read and write only in Chinese. After he left school, he had tried very hard to
get a clerical job, but failed time and time again. He ended up as a Chinese intellectual with
no technical skills and carrying a chip on his shoulders. He never hid his bitterness and
frustrations.
In contrast, Don was educated in English and graduated with a degree that assured him a
well-paid job in a comfortable office. A tidy job in a tidy office - that seemed to be young
Singaporeans' dream. Don, however, preferred to work free-lance as a real estate consultant.
Being highly intelligent, he also enrolled as an evening student in a Chinese language school,
and graduated with a High School diploma in Chinese. In a society, which craved for
effective bilingualism, Don could fit into any business or government enterprise as a high
salaried worker.
After he had finished checking on a few properties in the Chinatown, Don drove briskly
along Neil Road to Cantonment Road for another appointment. Don took the elevator to the
apartment. He checked the apartment address written on the list stuffed in his pocket, and
knocked on the door.
The door opened and a pretty young lady peered at him. She asked, 'Are you the house agent
from Best Home?'
Don replied in the affirmative and handed the lady his business card. He spoke to her in a soft
tone, rattling off the usual introduction about his company and the deals that had been closed
in the neighborhood.
Sitting at her desk, Mabel listened to the young real estate man. She answered a few
questions about her property mechanically. She stared at Don's handsome face and superb
physique and thrilled to hear him speaking fluent English in such a soft and gentle voice. She
couldn't concentrate on a damn thing about the apartment. She spun her chair around and
faced the window to look at the harbour scene below her apartment, in an attempt to compose
herself and to quieten her throbbing heartbeats.

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'Excuse me, Miss,' Don raised his voice a little to attract Mabel's attention to the papers he
held in his hand. He wanted her to sign the 'Agreement for exclusive sale,' which would give
him the exclusive right to handle this property.
Mabel signed the papers, flashing Don a sweet smile. She named a high price for the
property. She realized that it would take a few months to get the deal through to fetch this
price, but she didn't care about it since this would mean seeing Don again for a longer period.
Anyway, she knew she was not in any particular hurry to sell off this property. She was rich
and she would not need the money right away.
After completing the formalities of the proposed sale, Mabel took the initiative to make Don
feel at home. She asked Don about his work as a housing agent and plied him with questions
about his background, including his hobbies and his likes and dislikes. She brought out a few
cans of beer, and they began to chat like friends.
She felt her face grow warm when Don asked her softly for the reasons for the sale of her
apartment. Candidly, she told him that it was because she broke off from her boy friend,
Stanley, and she wanted to get rid of the apartment that carried so much unpleasant memories
of her unhappy relationship with “the jerk”. Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. Don
comforted her and uttered a few meaningless words, "Well…I thought…I mean, life for
young people like us is just starting. Old wounds will heal. We have to take a step at a time as
we meet each new day with fresh hopes."
After a moment’s silence, Don blurted out, 'I find you very beautiful and no doubt you will
meet someone who will cherish you more dearly and bring you happiness in the end.'
A great deal of wisdom from such a young man, and Mabel felt the warmth and sincerity in
his voice and stared at him with misty eyes. Don stirred uneasily and leaned over to offer her
his handkerchief to wipe off the tears.
Quite unexpectedly, Mabel in a voice that was charged with emotion asked, 'Don, will you be
my friend and visit me when you are free?' She then added, 'Not just for the business of
selling this apartment, you know what I mean.'
Don replied unthinkingly, 'of course, Mabel. Could I call you Mabel?'
'Yes, Don.'
At nine in the morning, Mabel was inside her office at Orchard Road. She was the owner of a
model agency. This morning, she was particularly cheerful. She was thinking of Don, the
good-looking property executive she met the day before. She had never felt this way before
when meeting other men. Don was different. He had a boyish disposition. He exuded warmth
and openness, and a little jovial and cultured cordiality that charmed her. She remembered the
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brief handshake; even how it sent electrical currents through her veins.
She had been around, meeting lots of smooth-talkers in her business circle. They all seemed
to be part of a mould of masculinity, artificially crafted - cultivated gentlemen's behavior,
male egocentrism, boisterous, artificially urbane, and gregarious behavior, and the habit of
talking about themselves and their work. When they were not talking, they appeared to be
teleported to another world, with their ears glued to their little transistor radios. Carrying their
transistor sets around made them feel they were in business and belonged to the upper class.
The transistors just came into the Singapore market at that time. They were the latest status
symbol, just like their Rolex watches and their fancy sports cars or their gigantic 500 c.c.
Norton, Matchless, BSA, AJS, Velocette or Triumph motorbikes, which thundered along all
roads, broad or narrow, without silencers in the exhaust pipes. Don previously had a HarleyDavidson and an Indian. He used to blaze trails in the open land at Holland Road and Katong.
But those male species in Mabel’s circle of friends and business associates appeared insipid
in the light of Don's explosion into her life.
At noon, she went to check on the girls who were preparing for a fashion show. She gave a
few instructions to her secretary, talked briefly to the camera crew, signed a few notes and
then left the office. She had an appointment with her beautician.
Staring at herself in front of a mirror at Stacey's, she looked closely at her own features. She
was twenty-two, a little older than Don, but she was proud of her facial features and
complexion. She could match the features and complexion and figure of any of her top
models, and she had beautiful bosoms. She recalled her pride when she watched her sister
undressing and noticed that she was flat as a boy although she was older. But then her sister
turned out to be a successful model, wearing falsies in her bra. Oddly enough, her sister's
problem was an asset for modeling work; though it certainly was no asset in her own personal
life. Mabel gave some instructions to the hair specialist to set her hair with central parting.
She then chose the shade of lipstick she wanted.
Looking at herself again, she was thinking of her impression on Don when they met the other
day. Thank God for her teeth, thank God for her hair. And her face. Her legs were good, her
hips were slim, and she was tall. God had been very good to her. He had only been forgetful
in one spot. She looked ruefully at herself. She knew she looked horrible when she got into a
temper. And she had a sharp tongue. Yes, sometimes she lashed out impetuously, forgetting
that she should be gentle and sensitive when touching the gentle feelings of others. Inside the
walls of her home, she had, on occasions, brushed tact aside and bluntly, embarrassed, chided
and tore her sisters to shreds for minor disagreements.
There were countless occasions in her teen years when her father told her to soften those
blows and stop hurting others when she got angry or jealous, but the teenager became a
woman with the mask of an angelic face, but with fires inside to scorch anyone close to her,
unknowingly, unthinkingly, and in a flash. She is not a minority in this cruel world; she was
part of the horde of "tactless humanity" in any place.
But Mabel might be special in some way. She could be so nice, so caring, so gentle and calm
in social occasions, to create a good impression and to gain others' respect and admiration. In
a normal situation when nothing bothered her, she was a picture of warmth and softness; but
once her security was threatened, it would be like the volcanic eruptions - destroying any
form of relationships and tearing up hearts that cared for her.
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Don had no reason to witness any outburst of temper from Mabel. Few months of courtship,
and the couple were talking about marriage. Both Don and Mabel were doing well in their
respective work. Mabel enjoyed great popularity in her line of business. New contracts. More
money coming in. More girls joined her agency. And she got a great deal of TV publicity.
Don fitted in well into her business and social life. She looked gorgeous as she entered a
Charity Ball in the Shangri-la Hotel with Don, smiling and greeting friends and business
associates. Don looked elegant in his white sharkskin tuxedo jacket and black tuxedo pants.
He was introduced to a good number of couples, all dressed in formal attire. Mabel was
radiant with happiness. She was told that she had been chosen along with another agency to
stage several fashion shows, featuring top models, for charity in several leading hotels. There
was the usually dancing and entertainment in the Grand Ballroom; many big names in the
fashion world also came. This was an evening for Mabel to remember. But this social event
was etched into her memory, setting it apart from other glittering charity functions: Don had
proposed to her. She was overjoyed and accepted it. The Ball became a whirlpool of thrills
and excitement for her, as one of the Supermodels went up the stage and announced the news
of her engagement.
A few days later at ten in the morning, Mabel and Don stood with some friends on the steps
in front of the Registry of Marriages at Fort Canning. Half an hour later, they were married.
Two hearts joined together in matrimony. They then stayed together in the apartment at
Cantonment Road, which brought them together.
Love and Marriage – they sometimes go together like horse and carriage. Marriage is often
regarded as the fulfillment of love and romance, the pinnacle of perfection of love. If there is
commitment by both husband and wife, then happiness ever after is not a fairy tale; it’s a
choice. But things are not as simple as that. A successful marriage requires falling in love
many times, always with the same person. It’s not so for Don and Mabel. A few months after
their marriage, Mabel showed her true colors. No longer was she the sweet, sedate, tender
loving darling of his heart; Mabel became short tempered, irritable, pugnacious, over small
frustrations and disappointments. It’s her emotional response to anything that upset her,
however trivial it might be, whatever the circumstances. It’s always other people at fault, and
she reacted with rage. Sometimes, she became grouchy and starting scolding almost
everybody about anything that agitated her. Don often wondered how he could tame the
“shrew” in his home.

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Wedding in Singapore

Chinese Wedding traditional style

Two
Strange Encounters
Don smiled complacently as he read the morning papers. He had placed a few advertisements
in the papers and he was sure the response to these classified ads (advertisements) would be
overwhelming. Sometimes, he felt that placing advertisements would be a waste of money
especially during a period of economic downturn. But checking over the details of the
properties advertised, he was full of confidence when he left his Cantonment Road
apartment, carrying a brief case, which contained his bread and butter documents.
His first stop was the Chinatown. As he walked along Jiak Chuan Street, he spotted his
cousin, Kim Ming again in a coffee shop with some friends. He waved at him and Kim Ming
waved back. Don wondered what Kim Ming was doing there. Perhaps he could not find work
to do that day and was just spending time with friends in a coffee shop. What Don did not
recognize was the other face of Kim Ming, that of an ardent communist activist, plotting a
clandestine operation with his comrades against the Government. Kim Ming always chose
the coffee shop as a preliminary meeting place. They would then proceed separately to secret
hideouts to plan other operations.
Don walked further up Jiak Chuan Street, and knocked on the door of a shop-house. His close
friend, Peter Kong, recommended this property to him. According to Peter, this is for grabs,
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as the owner was asking only three hundred thousand for the property.
The door opened. A young lady stared at him, and asked him bluntly, 'Are you looking for
girls? It's too early. Come back again at eleven.'
Don was flabbergasted. But he still noted some details about the property, walked around
inspecting the structure, the walls and ceilings and the rooms. He thanked the lady and
walked out with sufficient information to close the deal. He sighed as he walked away,
realizing the difficulty of finding a buyer who would not mind the nefarious activities that
had been going on in the premises.
Later in the evening, around 6.30 p.m., Don then took a bus to Serangoon Gardens. He
arrived at Cowdray Avenue at 7 p.m. He waited for about half an hour for Mr. Lim, a
prospective buyer to arrive. Then he knocked on the door of the house for sale, and was
greeted by two men - one on wheel chair and the other, a thin man with a sickly yellow face.
The house smelled of Chinese medicine. Though dilapidated, the house looked spacious, and
the structure of the house appeared quite solid.
Eventually, Danny Lim, the buyer and his wife arrived. After exchanging some pleasantries,
Don came to know that Mr. Lim was the Headmaster of a Junior College. A devout Catholic,
he was looking for a property in the neighborhood because of its proximity to a Catholic
church. Don felt relieved and confident about the sale. He explained to Danny that the two
occupiers were brothers. One of them was on wheel chair due to a motorbike accident. That
explained the smell of Chinese medicine. And he added that they hoped to sell the property to
help defray the medical bills. Don went on to give information about the sale prices of similar
properties in the area, which he had documented fully on paper. He managed to convince the
couple that this was a steal for the price of Five Hundred Thousand dollars. Danny Lim was
convinced. Don then obtained an Options deposit of Five Thousand dollars to close the deal.
Danny was at home in his Braddell Road house. It was a Sunday morning. He awoke slowly
with the knowledge that the morning was all but gone. He heard the sparrows chirping on the
ledge of the window. He opened his eyes but his head was still heavy. Dreamily, he stretched
himself and as he stood up, flashes of the night's dream agitated him. For a moment, he could
not recollect what dream bugged him. But certain images of a house at night crowded his
mind. He felt disturbed and did not really know why. Not a nightmare - he was sure of that.
Not haunted by monsters or creatures of the deep, but something supernatural…maybe. 'A
man of science' and 'an academician' bothered by a dream - he felt the absurdity of the
situation, but in his heart there was a feeling of dread.
He sat with his wife in the kitchen area for breakfast. As he sipped his morning coffee and
talking with her about the house, for which five thousand dollars had been paid as Option
Money, he suddenly remembered and blurted out, “I had this dream last night - it was
horrible. Yes, I saw a coffin flying across the road and landed on the roof of the house we
bought.”
“This is good omen, darling. “Coffin” sounds like 'wealth' in Chinese. It means we'll get rich
getting this property.”
Assured by what his wife said, Danny chuckled, “I don't really believe in dreams and omens.
It must be some sort of psychological association - perhaps I have unconsciously built up the
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association of acquiring a house with acquiring wealth.”
Monday morning came. Danny Lim was in the Junior College where he worked. He talked to
a few staff members about his dream. Most of them agreed with his wife's interpretation.
There were laughter and jokes. Some staff members complimented him for the purchase of a
property at this time when prices were low. The general consensus was that it would be a
good time to get into the action.

Deepavali – Festival of Lights for Hindus

It was Deepavali, the 'Festival of Lights' for the Hindus, and it was a public holiday. Danny
was free the entire day. He watched TV for a while. Then he rested on his bed reading a
novel. He reached for his cigarettes on the night table. The pack was empty. There wasn't
even a decent-sized butt in the ashtray. He then stood up and told his wife that he was going
out to buy some cigarettes. He hopped into his car and drove off.
Near Upper Serangoon Road junction, he cut off the car engine and walked briskly into the
corner coffee shop. He paid for two packets of cigarettes and walked out. He took out a
cigarette and started puffing it as he walked along five-foot-way, gazing at shop windows,
and occasionally looking at some of the displayed items for sale at the row of shops. When he
finished puffing his cigarette, he went into his car and drove straight to Cowdray Avenue. He
had decided to take a second look of the house he had bought. This time he would be looking
at it in broad daylight.
As he reached the Serangoon Gardens estate, he drove around, admiring the amenities there.
Yes, there were several banks and so many restaurants. The wet market also attracted his
attention. “Yes, the food centre, Chomp-Chomp is there. It is really great. “He grinned with
satisfaction that he had made the right choice of location. Then he eased his way into the
narrow estate roads, which appeared even narrower with so many vehicles parked along the
roadside. To his astonishment, Cowdray Avenue was congested with traffic. He drove on,
ignoring the slight traffic jam. He was persistent. He must have another look at the house.
When he finally reached it, he found himself in the thick of a funeral ceremony, which was
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taking place opposite the house - yes, "a wake opposite the House!"
Danny Lim rushed home and immediately called the Housing Agent. 'Don, I want to abort the
purchase of the Cowdray Avenue house. Try to get back the Option Money.' Then he related
the whole story to Don. A man of science indeed, but Danny Lim knew that there were forces
in this world, which no logical man could fathom. Fear of the unknown - it's as Singaporean
as 'Kopitiam' or buying four digits lottery. And it's strange. In some ways, this type of mixed
emotion leaves you crippled, immobile. It's an undefined uneasiness - a feeling that hits the
best of us, educated whether in Chinese or English, schooled in the West or East, cultured or
uncultured, rich or poor, the religious or the atheist. Yes, even the elite in Singapore society
can be superstitious. Conceived in the mind by ignorance, superstition cultivates insecurity
and sends a legion of structural cracks through our character.
Don could not get back the five thousand dollars for Danny. Under the terms of the Option,
the money was forfeited.

Three
Dark Shadows of Death
Kim Ming’s face was pale like the full moon. There were dark shadows under his sunken
eyes. He was vigilant, although he was home and alone in his room at Kreta Ayer in
Chinatown. The room was Spartan. The wooden shutters, which covered the windows, made
the room quite dark within. The only electric lamp hung from the ceiling appeared dim. There
were several loaded and untidy shelves, from floor to ceiling, ran round two walls. Several
tables and chairs were stacked at one corner. Beyond a small space near the room entrance,
every corner appeared chaotic. Kim Ming's favorite spot was a wooden bed covered with a
piece of old and torn linen used as a bed sheet. Kim Ming also had a bookshelf at the corner
near the windows. It had a dictionary and a few books and some writing materials. His
collection of books comprised mainly political literature - Karl Marx, Lenin, Chairman Mao
and the like. Stacks of posters and hand-written leaflets were strewn all over the floor. Kim
Ming seemed to be accustomed to the wall of stench wafting from the stack of dirty clothes
and old socks left to ferment in the corner of the room. He was not bothered by the stench,
nor the clothes and numerous discarded objects left on the floor. Psychologists called this
“sensory adaptations”. Yes, Kim Ming adapted himself well to everything there – the
pungent odor of rotting food, the chaotic state of the room, even the filth and the scattered
and messy contents dumped on the floor. He was able to grin while he prepared himself
mentally for the next phase of his clandestine operations in Chinatown.
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Kreta Ayer, Chinatown, Singapore, 1960

At midnight, Kim Ming stealthily left the building with a few posters and lurked in the
shadows of the street. . Nervously, he looked around as he walked briskly to another road. It
was pitch dark as a walked in the quiet of the night. The streets were still slippery and wet
due to the continuous drizzle in the evening. There were pools of water reflecting flickers of
light. It was a quiet night. The only sounds he heard were those of passing vehicles and the
noise of dogs barking. Shadows were everywhere. Here and there he noticed lights
shimmering from the windowpanes and some houses. Finally, he reached the Hilltop at
Banda Street.
The Hilltop of today is a built-up area for community activities, such as Chinese wayang. In
the Fifties, it was really a low hill, called Banda Hill, later renamed Dickinson’s Hill, a hill
that inspired fear and sometimes terror, and definitely, a place to be avoided for those with
faint hearts. Not only was the hill dark and somber; the surrounding back lanes were unlit and
deserted even in the day. Tall trees lined the perimeter of the hill, casting mysterious moving
shadows on the barren ground. In the still of the night, this deserted plot of land resembled a
dark lonely graveyard. And it was an actual graveyard for some Javanese workers stranded in
Singapore and starved to death during the Japanese Occupation. Some of their remains had
been dug out by people who tried to stave off hunger by cultivating some crops there. Even
on a moonlit night, the hill looked terrifying, with looming dark shadows, and eerie lights
shimmering through the branches and leaves of the tall trees, and with birds and bats flying
around, injecting strange shrills and shrieks that pierced the stillness of the night. Worse still,
one part of the hill faced Sago Lane, which was noted for the large number of funeral parlors
and dark dinghy death houses. The chanting of prayers, the sound of bells and drums
accompanying such prayers, and the cries, the moans and groans of mourners - all these sent
shivers down the spines of even the bravest among us. Last but not least, the hill was noted as
a place of death, the death of spies and sympathizers who worked for the Japanese during the
Occupation period. Their bodies were hung on the trunks of several tall trees, where Kim
Ming now hanged his posters
Kim Ming then must be commended for his guts. Not only was he brave enough to conquer
fear by climbing up the ghostly hill, he was also daring enough to risk his life for his cause.
Whatever his cause, whatever his campaign - only Kim Ming knew and understood, studying
Karl Marx, learning a lingua franca for world domination, et cetera. Perhaps he was like Don
Quixote. Perhaps he was not. But clearly he had become a political activist due to his
frustrations and disappointments. He had joined the ranks of numerous political activists
from Chinese schools and the Chinese University. They were hunted down one by one by the
14

Special Branch, the Internal Security Department, and placed under arrest. Yet, they struggled
on, creating unrest and fermenting hatred in the community.
Kim Ming stretched out in his single bed after a night's work on Hilltop. His face took on a
wry smile and a glassy stare as he heard the sound of his sick father coughing from the next
room. He felt relieved that he could place so many posters and cover so many streets and was
able to return home safely the night before. The next day would be Sunday and a few friends
had promised to work with him to distribute some pamphlets to condemn the British
Government. The fear he had been living with ever since he had been selected, as a cell
leader was the fear of being captured by the authorities, and he was terrified about the
consequences of being caught and the effects on his father and sister and his friends.
Sunday came. His friends contacted him through a street hawker who sold noodles at night.
He met his friends at midnight, and pasted dozens of posters on building walls, particularly in
public places like the cinemas and shopping centers. He reached home safely; feeling
satisfied that he had done a good job as a cell leader for the underground.
A few days later, something horrible happened. It was on a Thursday morning when he woke
up as usual around nine in the morning, after a night's outing to meet other activists and plan
new operations, he heard some loud moaning noises. He rushed out from his room, and found
his father cradling his young sister, Mei. He looked closer and found her foaming in the
mouth. Everyone was standing there, watching the dying girls writhing and turning in pain,
tears streaming down their faces. Without hesitation, Kim Ming called for the ambulance to
take her to the hospital.
Mei was in the Operation Theatre when Don arrived. He was startled to learn that his cousin
sister had swallowed caustic soda. He knew at once that there was little chance for her. She
had left a suicide note indicating that her boy friend had forsaken her. She had chosen to die
for unrequited love. It was in this note that she recorded the specifics of her anguish, tears
and fears. She spelt out details of her desperation, loneliness, sleeplessness, and pangs of
heartaches and pain and moments of despair. No one, near and dear to her, had known her
sufferings, sorrows and affliction. No one knew about her love affair, nor the name of her boy
friend. Mei had been reticent. She kept everything to herself.
A few hours later, she was pronounced dead. Kim Ming was emotionally affected and
broken-hearted. He cried and cried for days for this sad loss. He was in a state of despair as
the loss of his sister was a blow to his sick father. He shouted angrily, 'Who is going to look
after my father, now?'
Don reflected deeply on the circumstances surrounding the suicide. Could it have something
to do with her occupation as a "waitress" in a Chinese drinks stall? It was a common pastime
for people to patronize such drinks stalls or shops where they flirted around with the girls
serving the non-alcoholic drinks or beverages. In Cantonese, they were referred to as "maichar-mui", literally translated as "girls selling tea". These girls dressed very modestly in the
Chinese "sam-fu," which was a traditional oriental attire of blouse and long pants of silk or
satin materials. Their Chinese blouse was unusual in that the buttons were placed on one side
of the blouse from the neck down. As one of the girls sailed towards you, the slow and
alluring flaps of a beautiful handkerchief hung out from a button, would be enough to make
your heart flutter. Your heart would go throbbing wildly as you heard the unmistakable
"ketok-ketok" sound from the wooden clogs getting nearer to you. Some Chinese men and
15

women still wear wooden clogs at home in the kitchen, but it was common for the "mai-charmui" to walk in wooden clogs to serve customers. Of course, they expected tips from them.
However customers did not expect to be entertained in the same way as what some regulars
could get from modern bargirls in clip joints or sleazy bars. These girls were by nature shy
and reserved. Lest you become disappointed, at least they would keep you well entertained
chatting gaily with you for long hours. But there was no hanky-panky - none of the sexual
liberties common with the sleazy bars of today. For one thing, unlike the modern clip joints
or bars that operated in dim light or no light, the drinks stalls or shops operated in the open
and often in broad daylight or under bright lights. Hence, the virtues of these girls were
maintained or assured. After all these explanations, even a casual reader would know that
Mei was never loose or immoral. She was just a poor girl who had to earn a living in those
difficult days. It was a decent job, serving decent people in an open drinks stall within a wellknown food market. This market was located on the site where the People's Park Complex
now stands with the newly opened Chinatown MRT station.
Don could not forget Mei, the sweet young girl with a beautiful smile and a gentle trusting
nature. Her face was always radiant. She was as pretty as any of the models in his wife's
agency, and she had fair complexion and some Eurasian features. She was slender and tall.
The outline of her well-developed breasts protruded slightly through her blouse, even though
she wore the old fashioned Chinese "sam-fu". It was really sad. Everyone would miss her soft
and gentle voice. Don was full of compassion for the bereavement in Kim Ming's family, but
being analytical-minded, he could not help but ask questions about the circumstances
surrounding the suicide, and received rude stares. Could she have died because of her love
for a customer? Could the man be a married man? Could a girl in her line of work be so
deeply in love as to sacrifice her life in such a traumatic way? These questions and more
bugged him. It was really a mystery - and there was not enough explanation in her suicide
note.

16

A Chinese lady with a Pipa

From this tragedy, Don learnt a painful lesson on love. The words on love in the Bible came
to his mind: 'If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a
resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all
mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not
love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but
have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast,
it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no
record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects,
always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. …Now I know in part; then I shall know
fully, even as I fully known. And now these three remain; faith, hope and love. But the
greatest of these is Love.'
Did Mei gain anything by dying gloriously for love? Some Asian women tend to believe that
death is the glorious way out, if love is not reciprocated or lost But the highest form of love is
agape love as reflected in biblical teachings. It is futile to place romantic love on a pedestal of
virtue and righteousness, because human nature is perverse and weak, human relationships
are fragile and frail and even your near and dear ones could turn against you should their
interest or dignity are threatened or affected.
If tears were indelible ink, all of us would be stained for life. The heartbreaking
circumstances, the sudden loss of loved ones, the stinging thorns of pain and anguish of being
shunned, abused or taunted for mistakes one makes, the brutal verbal blows we receive from
17

family and friends, the stupid decisions we make in work and finance leading to failures such is the groan and grind of life.
There is a broken heart in every street corner. Shelley, the English poet was right. He
personified Sorrow as a mother "with her family of sighs." And so she is. Stooped and weary
of life, yet ever bearing more children only to sigh and cry and die. Without God - end of
message. Finis. Termination of misery. Curtains. The only encore, for Mei's curtain exit, to
borrow from Robert Ingersoll's dying words of horror, is: "the echo of a wailing cry."
But that need not be the end. Life and love, with all its pressures and inequities, tears and
tragedies, can be lived on a level above its miseries. Faith in God can help in overcoming
Sorrow and her grim family of sighs, who may visit you. But they will not stay long and they
will leave you victorious in life when faith, grace and hope through God's love are there to
help you sail calmly by the roughest seas.

18

Four
A Special Branch operation
Despite the bereavement in his family, Kim Ming's daily routine each morning remained the
same. He would get up early in the morning. He would jog around the Hilltop to tune up his
muscles, and then he would have his breakfast, eating at the few food stalls, which were
allowed to operate along one side of the road where he lived. He did not realize that he was
too emotionally charged to expose himself publicly in this manner. He liked the tit-bits being
sold at one stall. He had patronized it for over a year. He liked the young couple that always
greeted him in a friendly way. The couple had to prepare and sell food at the stall while
looking after a baby. Yet they were able to cope with the work, cheerfully greeting every
customer that came along. They knew about his sister's death and they kept on comforting
and encouraging him, telling him not to be sad. They knew the hardships he faced working as
a coolie in the harbour go-downs. They made him feel that they could rely on them as friends,
should he need financial assistance. Kim Ming felt grateful and talked to them freely and that
was Kim Ming's fatal mistake.
Kim Ming was no longer the cool cell leader that he was before the tragedy at home. He
suffered severely. He could no longer sleep well. His mind was swamped with the memories
of sister. Anger and anguish pierced his heart, and at this anguishing point, he relaxed his
guard in the early morning. Why not? These were simple people, and they had been there
with him every morning like old friends chatting away about almost everything under the
sun, including life in China, the plight of the Chinese-educated in Singapore, et cetera, et
cetera.
A month later, at midnight on a Saturday, the sound of cars screeching to a halt and the loud
noise of people running and yelling were heard in the house where Kim Ming lived. Five
patrol cars stopped at the house with their headlights on. People rushed out from their homes
to see the red rotating flickering lamps on top of the patrol cars and dozens of uniformed
police officers armed with guns surrounding the premises. Kim Ming was arrested and led
handcuffed into a patrol car. Other Special Branch officers and the police also arrested a
number of his friends in a similar fashion. It was obvious that the Special Branch had been
watching these activists for a long time, and planned this operation very carefully.

Special Branch raid

Eventually, Kim Ming was imprisoned in St. John's Island. There, Kim Ming created much
19

havoc and gave the prison staff a great deal of trouble. The British authorities decided to
repatriate him. After a year's imprisonment, he was repatriated to China.
Unfortunately, this was not the end of the story. In the political arena, struggles and conflicts
often result in chaos and bloodshed. The sequel to this story is a revelation of the dangers to
the society. It is an expose of the brutal nature of any political struggle for whatever cause, by
whatever groups.
No sooner was Kim Ming arrested, another two tragic deaths took place at Kreta Ayer. The
man, who operated the food stall where Kim Ming frequently patronized, was found shot
dead with his wife in a back lane. What happened to the baby? Nobody knew. Were they
Special Branch agents or officers in disguise? Who knows?

20

Five
First Visit to China after the Cultural Revolution
To everyone at Sing-China Realty, it began as an ordinary Monday morning. The hundred
odd staff members started the day slowly, chatting with one another. Some were drinking
coffee at the pantry; others were busy at work. The first sign of disturbance came at 10 a.m.
when the Chairman, Mr. Phey came into the office and shouted at Reception that he was
expecting a Mr. Donald Lee to see him.
Few minutes later, Don rushed into the Sing-China Realty Office, which occupied the
topmost floor of a 20-storied building. He entered the spacious reception room, where Mr.
Phey usually came out to greet V.I.P.s - big sponsors or heads of property companies who
were giving the company multimillion-dollar buys of properties or leasing properties through
the company. Don sat on one of the leather couches and stared at several pretty girls walking
in and out of the Office. He nodded briskly to Cheryl, Mr. Phey's secretary when she
approached him and told him Mr. Phey was expecting him in his Office at the far corner.
Politely, Mr. Phey asked Don to sit down on a leather sofa chair, and he took his place sitting
close to him on a three-sitter sofa. He placed some documents on the coffee table. He told
Don he would be pleased to have him as the General Manager of the firm. He added that he
was very impressed with his credentials and his experience as a real estate specialist. In a
nutshell, he wanted him to be in charge of the company's operations, not only in Singapore,
but also the company's investments in the Asia Pacific region. Don was dizzy at the thought
of the new prestige this would give him in the real estate business. Everyone in Singapore
knew the big reputation of Sing-China Realty. In any case, an announcement would be made
in the papers on his appointment.

Don's first task in the Company took him to Guangzhou and Nanking. He arrived in
21

Guangzhou early in the morning. This was the China after the Cultural Revolution. Heavy
rains crushed the dark green landscape of Southern China. Steep hillsides glistened with tall
trees and palms, dotted with black mud patches from the heavy rains, and tall, chaotic
grasses. Guided by an old Chinese scholar, Don and some friends reached the City of
Guangzhou. Here the roads were filled by a vast throng of cyclists and pedestrians. Sounds
of bicycle bells echoed in the air with their ringing and “clang-clang” noise that could be
piercing and unpleasant to hear. Many cyclists seemed to be in a rush, racing with loud gears
whirring and wheels spinning.
Still dazed by hundreds of bicycle bells ringing in his ears, Don shifted his gaze to look
closely at the pedestrians. He stared in amazement. Everybody wore blue, men and women,
as though it was some sort of uniform. At Eight in the morning, shop assistants lined up in
front of their shops for their morning exercise, moving in rhythm with the blaring music from
loudspeakers hung all over buildings. Don waited for the morning exercise to end. When it
was over after about fifteen minutes, his guide took him into the shops. People stared at him
and recognized him at once as a foreigner. Perhaps it was because of his clothes. He wore a
gray lounge suit and sporting a multi-colored tie. The shop assistants all expressed
amazement that he could speak fluent Mandarin, or what they called "Putonghua." They
became more surprised when he spoke fluent Cantonese to them, and they plied him with all
sorts of questions about life outside of China, particularly life in Singapore.

Guangzhou, China.

Don went around with his guide to see various properties including those that belonged to his
company. He took note of the accounts and examined the documents. He took a few pictures
of these properties. He met a few people connected with these properties, including a few
architects and engineers, and then called it a day. He returned to his hotel to take a rest.
Next day, he talked to his guide, a prominent communist party member from Beijing about
the possibility of meeting his cousin, Kim Ming at Nanking. 'That could be easily arranged,'
was the reply.' We’ll arrange for his family to meet you at your hotel in Nanking.' He then
proceeded to make a few telephone calls and send a cable out.
Kim Ming received the cable with an element of surprise and joy. Since his repatriation to
China by the British authorities in Singapore, he had been kept in Zhen Chen. He had not
22

been allowed to go freely to other parts of the country. He worked as a lathe-operator but
earned enough to start a small family. Now he had a grown-up daughter, working as a
photographer. Surprisingly, he was never treated with honor when he arrived in China. He
had remained in obscurity. His youthful idealism had all gone. Gone too was his dynamism
and knowledge of political literature and theories. He was really amazed that Don was
allowed to see him; after all, people like Don, he knew, would never be allowed to enter the
Bamboo Curtain. Kim Ming was exhilarated to have the opportunity to leave his small town
in Northern China with his family. Maybe he thought it would be possible to get some money
from Don to build a house or buy something useful for the family. So, Kim Ming and his wife
and daughter took a long train ride to Nanking to meet Don. Warm words were exchanged
when they met one another. Don noticed that Kim Ming had changed. Not only was he much
subdued and reticent as a person, he had also lost his native tongue - Cantonese, and he
looked in every way like a spent force. But he had found in this vast country a livelihood,
albeit a humble one, as a lathe-operator in a small town, and he also had a small family. He
might have thought that he would be treated like a hero when he returned to China, but his
past political deeds meant nothing or little to a China that was concerned with her own
development as a world power, and looked askance at activists like Kim Ming who fermented
trouble in a country that raised him.

23

Six
Que sera, sera
After his meeting with Kim Ming in Nanking, Don flew to Southern China to join Mabel in
Xiamen. He was wide-awake during the entire flight, even though when he arrived at the
Xiamen airport, it was almost midnight. Mabel was there waiting outside of the Customs
clearance gate. She was accompanied by two of Don's friends, Peter and David, both from
Singapore. Mabel was very happy, hugging Don closely and whispering to him that she
missed him.
Peter worked in a Chinese import and export firm, and he used the Company van to take Don
and Mabel from the airport to the hotel. Peter and David left after they reached the Hotel
entrance. Mabel already registered a room on the third storey. She collected the room key
from the Reception Desk and walked briskly with Don up the stairs to the room. As they
climbed the stairs, they held hands and chatted excitedly about their encounters. Mabel was
thrilled to hear stories about Guangzhou and Nanking and laughed when Don told him about
his meeting with Kim Ming and his family.
The following morning, Don awoke at eight. He felt good; He leaned towards Mabel and
kissed her. Then he kissed her neck and stroked her body, whispering to her, 'I love you,
Mabel. It's so wonderful.' Mabel was still asleep, and Don did not want to disturb her. He
then slipped out of bed and washed up in the bathroom. He stood under a cold shower, and
quickly dried himself with a towel. He threw on a pair of slacks and a sports shirt. Then he
left the hotel room, leaving a note to Mabel that he was taking a walk around the hotel.
The moment he stepped out of the hotel, he was surrounded by a group of beggars. He
handed some money to a few of them and walked on. One of them, a one-legged beggar
complained that the one Yuan he gave was not enough. He asked for ten yuan but Don
ignored him. He then continued to follow Don everywhere he went. In desperation, he
walked quickly into a food and amusement center opposite his hotel. He knew this to be a
place operated by some of his friends in Singapore. The center comprised several sections. In
one section at the far end selling Singapore food, Don tasted the satays and char-kway-teow
and enjoyed himself.
After eating, Don went to another section where he found a massage establishment. There he
met Li Chin, a young and pretty Chinese lady who appeared to be the person in charge of the
place. He asked her whether she knew his friend, Sam Tan. She replied that Sam was her
cousin from Singapore. She told him a little about herself. She was born and bred in Xiamen
and was still unmarried. Sam gave her this job of managing the center.
Li Chin explained that massage at the center was all done, using the foot. The masseuse
would be standing on top of your body, whether front or back, and her hands would be
24

holding on to two horizontal bars hung from the ceiling to maintain balance and vary the foot
pressure on the client. She asked Don to try it out, highlighting and praising its therapeutic
qualities. She added that she could do the massage herself.
Don took another shower. He quickly tied a towel around his waist, and dripping some water
across a dimly lit room, he mounted a small leather bed and lay there. Li Chin entered. He
was surprised to see Li Chin, wearing only her bra and panties, smiling at him and motioning
him to turn over so as to lie facedown. Months of toil and difficult journeys and mountains of
paper work took their toll on him. His muscles were tired and worn out, and he had
backaches. He moaned as the beautiful masseur stepped on him, finding the vital spots to
work on with her soft, smooth feet. Pressures were applied on certain aching muscles and
joints. Sometimes, her feet just touched and caressed sensitively other parts of his body. He
was almost lulled to sleep, mesmerized by the wonderful feelings and sensations through
each soft contact with her foot. Then Li Chin turned him over to lie on his back. His eyes
remained closed as she stepped softly on his thighs. She repeated the stepping and touching
maneuvers several times and gradually her touch became more gentle and caressing. Don felt
he was in dreamland. He could not open his drowsy eyes. The room seemed to be whirling
around his body.
It was almost as if he had fallen asleep or under some form of hypnosis. He still felt the
pressures applied to his tired muscles. Alternating with these were the soft strokes, which she
used to caress his body gently. Sometimes, the touch was so gentle that a tickling sensation
was felt. His manhood was aroused momentarily and he stirred. But she quickly replaced
these gentle strokes with strong pressures on certain acupuncture points or nerve points. At
times he imagined soft hands touching his body, but he was sure his imagination was running
wild and remained motionless with his eyes closed. He sucked in the thrills and sensations of
every touch, and was too afraid to open his eyes in case this might dispel the enchantment
and disrupt the heart-throbbing moments of pleasure that enveloped him. He was captivated
by this breath-taking beauty that was manipulating every sensitive nerve in his body to give
him this sensual experience. He was intoxicated with images of her and was yearning to
touch her, but still he controlled himself and stayed perfectly still.
Li Chin had never felt like this before. Though he had learnt the art of massage by watching
the girls at the Center doing it, she had always kept herself out of sight from the clients. Her
job consisted mainly of opening up the center, checking the footstalls, collecting the cash and
depositing it into the banks. The moment she set eyes on Don, her heart started beating
wildly. True, she had boy friends sometime ago, but she had never been in love before. The
fact was simply this - she had never been aroused like this before.
Don caught her eyes - his boyish smile and sparkling eyes sent thrills into her slender body.
Her face was red and took on a shyness and bewilderment, as she watched Don moved
around with an air of cultured confidence and urbanity. He had listened to her earnestly, and
stared at her innocently as though she was a goddess reborn. He was so sweet and so polite,
and appeared to be so kind, caring and patient, as she related to him about life in China. She
had to control her emotions, and yet she succumbed to them. She brushed aside all thoughts
about modesty and took over from one of the girls to attend to Don. Li Chin entered the
room. Her face flushed with embarrassment, as she bared all except her bra and panties. Don
did not notice it. He knew Li Chin was the manageress, but thought she was just giving him
personal attention. He was thrilled beyond words to be touched by this stunning oriental
beauty.
25

Love at first sight - this might seem too trite to mention. Love at a massage parlor - this even
seemed somewhat preposterous. Love between two strangers who met each other for the first
time - this really sounded ridiculous. But it happened - at least for Li Chin who had never
experienced love, raw and pristine, physical, emotional and mental - so complete and so
perfect. Suddenly, they are in love. It would be difficult for people with the "holier-thanthou" attitude to understand the type of emotional experience and joy that suddenly
transfused into the innermost being of those affected or afflicted. The pundits of life and
ethical behavior might condemn these moments of enthralling passion. For Li Chin, all her
feminine instincts and womanly love became torrents flooding her very soul and drowning
out her basic instincts of survival and elements of social controls that had governed her
humdrum life. What thoughts of the supreme virtue in a woman in both East and West had
also been completely submerged in these torrents of love and passion? Li Chin found herself
in the realm of make-believe that she had found love. She just wanted to give of herself to the
one she felt she had to love. She knew that from then on their lives would become entwined.
Perhaps one day, this love could become consistent and permanent.

Suddenly
Suddenly, she came.
Life’s no longer the same.
There she stood - an angel’s child;
My heart began beating, throbbing wild.
Suddenly, we were standing near,
Gently touching, sharing glances that endear.
A moment later, we suddenly kissed.
I knew then this was the love I’ve missed.
Alone with her on a hill,
Alone with the clouds in those high places still.
I remember the sweet songs of love we share'd.
She sang like the spirit of Spring in the daybreak air.
Suddenly over the hills she climbed high,
Climbing higher and higher to touch the sky.
But suddenly she was falling; then tears filled my eyes.
My prayers echoed through the skies.
I saw her – an angel with broken wings descending –
Her head and body turning and bending.
God is merciful; she never hit the ground.
She’d held on to some branches not uttering a sound.
I bent over and held her close.
Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around me,
Wrapped them right round me, as time froze.
She then smiled - an angelic smile I could see.
(Andrew Yip)

26

Don felt soft hands touching him and he opened his eyes. His eyes met her tender misty gaze.
It was unmistakable. The love that so infused her mind and soul, shone through those loving
eyes. It shone pure and heavenly like the gentle ray of sunlight at dawn. No words were
spoken. No words were necessary. Only heartbeats - two hearts gently beating as one. Don
sat up, leaned forward and took her hands into his. Be rest assured - there was no lust that
you could pin your criticisms on; there was no unbridled passion for those with sharp tongues
to lash out. It was a meeting of souls - pure and simple. The matter of right and wrong, sin
and virtue, social norms and waywardness, family demands and the frowns of the narrowminded - all these thoughts just don't count as two hearts started pulsating as one, and two
beings merged as one.
Don returned to his hotel room but Mabel was not there. She left a note to tell Don she had
gone shopping. Don lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He was thinking of Li Chin - her
softness and captivating beauty aroused and stunned him, and her virginity shocked and
shook him. But yet in parting, he had to tell her he was completely committed to his marriage
to Mabel, and cautioned her that it might be difficult for them to see each other in the future.
Li Chin tearfully accepted his clarification, and murmured the words, 'Let destiny decide; que
sera, sera - whatever will be, will be.'
She added that love was a zero-sum game. Don did not respond to this.
Don took a few more days to finish his business consultations with officials in Xiamen. Then
he left Xiamen with Mabel for Fuzhou. But before his departure from Xiamen, he met Li
Chin several times secretly, and promised to see her again in the future. Li Chin was tearful
as he left her.

27

Seven
Back home to struggle on
It was raining heavily when Don and Mabel arrived in Singapore that night. It was dark and
slightly chilly, and very late. The plane had been delayed on the way, and it was almost
midnight when they got home.
They went to bed after a quick wash. Don unconsciously wanted to make amends to Mabel,
hugging her with a great deal of affection and love. The two embraced without a word. They
kissed and made love. But nothing felt the same for Don. He could not dismiss the thought
from his mind that he had done something wrong. A tinge of guilt and sadness touched him.
He knew he never meant to be unfaithful to Mabel. He knew her temperament. She would
explode if she ever found out about his brief encounter with Li Chin. He was filled with
remorse, and admitted to himself that he lacked will power. He could never leave Mabel. He
believed in marriage and was committed to make it a success; but then things happened, and
it was beyond his control.
There was something in Li Chin that caused the surge of emotions in his heart. He could not
tell what it was. He only felt a sense of longing for her; a feeling that she needed protection
and that their destinies were intertwined. She was part of a tune in his heart. When he was
with her, he heard part of it - but it never got past the first few bars. Only it wasn't a tune, it
was a memory, a vision. He sensed it again and again. It was as though he was recollecting
something, and it left him with a sense of warmth, of happiness and sometimes panic. Could
Li Chin be someone close to him in another life? Could it be her face that reminded him of
someone, near and dear in his childhood? Ask the psychologists - they believe in childhood
memories surfacing in adult life - the subconscious and all sorts of Freudian psychological
theories about the ego, superego and id urges.
As he thought, he was sure of one thing. Li Chin is no passing fancy for him. The love
encounter was real. It was like another stream of life flowing into his destiny, and he
expected torrents, rapids and a great deal of attrition and corrasion impacting his life at every
point. He suppressed these thoughts and the images that kept flashing in his mind.
Sometimes, it happened in the night. There were quick flashes - the feel of her body, vibrant
and soft - the endearing words of love and devotion, and her magnificent breasts and legs.
But what could he do? Nothing. He could not confess to Mabel, knowing the nature of hottempered women. Guilty? Yes, but he already left Li Chin - unless destiny took him back to
her again. But this would be very unlikely, he thought. His "Super-ego" probably admonished
him as being "unfaithful," but his "Ego" obstinately refuted it. He resigned to the fact that
those with the "holier-than-thou" mentality would say, "J'accuse." But what the hell - Don
fought back with the affirmation that he would still be faithful to Mabel, and love her to
eternity. Sunrise…sunset. Sunrise…sunset. For richer or poorer - For better or worse - In
sickness and in health - swiftly fly the years. Yes, going down stream in this river of life
28

"ladened with happiness and tears."
Don was going through a great deal of emotional stress. His state of mind swung like a
pendulum from the tastes of sweet romance and the ecstasy of some enchanted evening to the
moan and groan of family disruption and the fears and tears of a hideous dream. This was a
test for him, an acid test of his mettle as a man. It was an experience that would temper his
resolve of steel to get on in life, facing up to his responsibilities and always be protective of
those he loved. Even if this experience brought profound depths of anguish and shame, he
would not retreat into the cave of despair and hopelessness. By facing up to his sense of selfresponsibility, he had submitted and learnt from the experience, developing maturity and
character; instead of cowering in guilt and remorse and wallowing in self-pity, and became
embittered in the process, smothered by self-will and swamped by morbid thoughts of low
self-esteem.
His colleagues welcomed him back into the Office. Piles of paperwork - he went through
them quickly. He up-dated the information in his computers and his agile mind absorbed like
a sponge all the relevant market information, the listings and various investment
opportunities in Singapore. His secretary arranged a few meetings and appointments, and that
filled his week completely. He was tired beyond words, working long hours to clear he
backlog of office work. He found the work rather dreary. Nothing challenging. Not a single
interesting encounter. 'Everything is routine now in this office,' he moaned.
By sheer luck, Don met Theresa in church and found an interesting sale proposal. He knew
Theresa Ng to be a real estate agent specializing in bungalow sales. She operated free-lance,
and was ever ready to co-broke with any real estate specialist to complete a sale. Theresa said
she needed help to sell a big landed property in Holland Road. Don readily agreed to work
together with her.
An appointment was made to speak to the owner. He turned out to be a pastor in charge of a
Christian mission at Katong, Pastor Danton. The mission had this huge bungalow occupying
a site of some 30,000 square feet of prime land. It seemed that the proceeds of sale would go
towards the funding of a Christian outreach work in China. 'Find a buyer quickly, Don,'
Theresa whispered. 'Nobody knows about this property sale yet.'
Don was quick on this job. For several days, he made several telephone calls to some clients
and people he knew. Eventually, he found a foreign organization interested in the purchase.
Don knew the head of the organization. He met him in one of the glittering balls he had
attended with Mabel. Don informed him about the price of a hundred dollars per square foot
for the property, and this was agreed. 'Closing the deal would be a cinch with this agreement
of price,' he thought. He did not realize the complications that ensued.
The deal hinged on two things: agreement to allow the property to be used by the foreign
organization for the specified purpose, and agreement by the foreign to purchase the property
by people in charge of the organization overseas. Don obtained the former agreement after a
few weeks of hard work. But after that, the nitty-gritty of obtaining the latter agreement was
left to an official of the organization.
The Official then appointed a valuation company to work on the value of the property. Don
accordingly passed the relevant information including documents, plans and maps to the
valuation company. After the valuation was completed, Don had to wait almost a month
29

before the Official gave him an appointment to see him. Again and again, Don was told,
'Sorry, no approval yet. You have to wait.'
Just at this point of time, Don received a call from Theresa. It appeared that Pastor Danton
received another offer at One hundred and ten dollars per square foot, that is, ten dollars
higher. Theresa asked Don, ' Could you get your client to bid higher than this price?'
Don knew something was very wrong and called the Official of the foreign organization.
'Sorry, we are too busy' was the curt reply. We got the same reply two weeks later. When Don
persisted in calling the Official, he was told quite bluntly, ' you do not represent us in the
purchase of this property any more. We have asked another housing agent to take over. But if
you have another property for us, do give me a call.' Don was shocked and angry to hear this.
He realized that there was a leak of information somewhere, or something fishy was going
on. He decided to investigate the matter. He checked with the telephone operators and clerks
of both the valuation firm and the foreign organization, using all his charm to talk to the
ladies. Eventually, he found the answer. He found out that the valuation company had
introduced one of his friends to be the housing agent to take over the purchase of the same
property for the foreign organization. He called Theresa and told her 'Somebody had cut in it's somebody from the valuation office, and there is some hanky-panky going on.'
'Do something about it, Don,' she urged. 'Go and see the head of the foreign organization.'
'But I have already been dismissed. Why should I crawl back to them?' Don spoke aloud with
a voice charged with emotion. He was hurt and felt frustrated. He realized that real estate
business could involve dirty hands and dirty minds, but he never realized that it could be that
dirty. He did not want to take things lying down. He must fight back. 'I will teach these
people a lesson,' he muttered to Theresa.
Don met Theresa at the Novena. 'Let's go in and say our prayers first before going to see
Pastor Danton,' Theresa whispered to Don.
'But I am not a Catholic,' Don argued.
'Please go in with me and pray, ' again she urged.
'Okay, after all I am quite ecumenical.' Don went in with Theresa and prayed in earnest.
But Theresa pressed Don to promise her that he would donate twenty thousand from his share
of the commission to a Catholic church she named, should the deal be successfully
completed. She would do likewise. Don surprised himself in agreeing to this request.
An hour later, the two were in Pastor Danton's office. Don proceeded to explain his
predicament to the pastor. He promised to bring back an offer of one hundred and twenty, and
asked for time to do it. Finally, the pastor said, 'you have two weeks to bring us an offer at
one hundred and twenty dollars per square foot. I know you have worked very hard on this
property, but do your best. You have my word for the extended time of two weeks to bring
back a good offer that would benefit our mission. God bless both of you.'
Don worked furiously in the ensuing week He called up a number of prospective buyers,
including some from overseas. He was on the brink of a mental collapse, but one morning, he
received a call from the head of the property investment corporation.
30

'Don, I know what you have been through. I am prepared to help you. But you must get me
an indication from the government that we could build a condominium on the subject site.
Then, I will do this favor for you. Offer any price below one hundred and thirty five. Call me
back on my private line, if you run into problems,' the tycoon assured Don.
Don returned to Pastor Danton's office with Theresa and made an offer of one hundred and
twenty to the respective solicitors to handle the formalities. He then told Don the name of the
mission's solicitors.
Don sighed with relief and a sense of exhilaration. Pastor Danton kept his word. At Don's
request, Theresa would liaise with the solicitors, thus keeping Don out.
'Okay, we will accept the offer,' the pastor spoke very firmly and decisively. 'We'll leave
matters now of the picture. Don would get his half of the commission. Smilingly, he told
Theresa that he would continue to help the foreign organization to find a suitable property.
Both the pastor and Theresa laughed. They thought he was joking.
Don was not joking. He started working again, working relentlessly to search for properties,
calling up clients and driving around to see owners of bungalows and vacant land. He thought
that nothing more need to be done on the property owned by the Christian mission.
He was wrong again.
Athletes breasting the tape at the finishing line - beauty contestants being crowned - the final
whistle at the end of full-time and extended play in football matches - there is finality in all
these. But not so with real estate deals. They are not that simple or clear-cut. A gentleman's
handshake - payment of option money or deposit - signing of papers at the solicitors - they
are just preliminaries. Something always crop up. Experienced realtors know this well. Until
they receive their commission, they never considered the deal closed. Don now learnt another
lesson the hard way.
Early in the morning, he received a call from Theresa. 'Pastor Danton had a call from the
solicitors. Someone made another offer at one hundred and twenty five,' she spoke, giggling a
little.
Don felt disappointed and dismayed. With a disgruntled voice he said loudly and put down
the phone hastily, 'That bitch of a solicitor.'
Later, Theresa called. 'Don, you misjudged Pastor Danton. He had rejected the new offer. He
said he was doing it to keep his promise. No more hitches,' she said cheerfully.
When Don received his share of the commission, he promptly made out a cheque of thirty
thousand in favor of the Catholic Church named by Theresa, and handed it to her. He felt
gratified that in this cock-eyed world there were people like Pastor Danton who was truly a
man of principle, a man of God.
A few weeks' later, after doing all the necessary preparations for a new deal, he marched into
the office of the foreign organization. Only this time, he was sly. He asked innocently, 'Have
your organization purchased the property at Holland Road. If you are still looking for one, I
31

have found something suitable. Let's meet at Orchid Inn over lunch to discuss it.'
Their meeting turned out to be most revealing. Don realized at once his earlier mistake in the
Holland Road deal. He had fixed the price and made it known to the foreign organization at
the outset in writing. He should not have done it. So for the new property, although the asking
price was one hundred and twenty five, the deal would start off with one hundred and sixty as
the asking price. For the first time, Don got his hands dirty associating with deceit. But then
he was saved from it. The application to purchase this property was turned down by the
Government. Don did not wish to have anything to do with the organization from this point
on.
Don remembered his appointment with Theresa for Dinner at the Rendezvous. He drove
quickly to Bras Basah Road, parked his car at the Cathay Car Park and walked to the
Restaurant. Theresa greeted him at the entrance of the Restaurant. She looked radiant and
sexy in her cheongsum dress. He tried to brief Theresa about his dealings with the official
from the foreign organization, but she stopped him, pressing her hand on his mouth, and said,
“Let’s not talk business this evening.” She moved her chair closer to him, and started to lean
her head against his shoulders. Don was surprised but he responded impulsively, staring into
her lovely eyes and touching her hair. When Theresa smiled warmly at him, he started
stroking the strands of hair that touched her forehead. Theresa, the cool, business minded,
sometimes a hard-nosed executive, seemed to have undergone a tremendous transformation.
Instead of the cold stare that Don was accustomed of. There was love beaming at him from
her eyes. It was unbelievable.
Theresa murmured, “Could we go somewhere quiet together, Don?”
Without uttering a word, Don put his arms around her to indicate that his love for her. He
paid the bills in a hurry and walked back towards the dinner table to escort Theresa out of the
Restaurant.
It was just a short walk to the car park, but the couple walked briskly together, hearts’
pounding. Theresa was a little intoxicated, hugging Don closely as she walked with him.
She did not feel the cold evening air, just the warm electrical currents flowing into her body
from Don. Her head was swimming, her body swaying, as she walked unsteadily along
with Don. Still, they managed to get into the car.
Theresa’s apartment was nearby at Selegie Road. It took just a few minutes of driving to
reach there. But both hearts were in a hurry. The moment they entered the door of the
apartment, both Theresa and Don were clutching at each other, grabbing, pushing and pulling
as though they were in a delirium. Don started pulling off Theresa’s new cheongsum dress.
It was a difficult operation, but he succeded to get her facing him with just her bras and
underwear. He held her close, kissing her and cuddling her with a burning passion. Time
seemed to stand still as they held on to each other. As they moved around holding to each
other, they appeared to be dancing wildly in frenzy movements. Perhaps, this was a wild
dance of victory for the two real estate agents after they had closed big deals.. Perhaps, the
magic moment was love and a hunger for sexual excitement and fulfillment.

32

Eight
Into the realms of paranormal
Mabel stretched out in her bed. She stared at Don who was writing something at his small
desk at the corner of the room. She wanted to get a good night's sleep, and yet she could not
close her eyes. Something was bothering her, and she stared suspiciously at Don. She could
tell that Don was busy with some projects, but had never questioned him. She heard from a
lady friend that she saw Don leaving a hotel café with a lady who drove a red BMW. She
intended to ask Don about it, but kept herself in check. Somehow, she did not want to
stumble into something unpleasant for herself. But she had doubts about Don, gnawing
suspicions too - her one true love. To her, anyone with skirts getting near or too friendly to
Don must be a slut. Yet she knew that Don could not avoid women in his line of work. She
never liked Don going to her Modeling Agency for the same reasons. What happened if Don
fell for one of her models, she mused.
After some hesitation, she decided to catch the bull by the horn and asked, 'Don, you have
been to the Shangri-la Hotel café yesterday afternoon. Did you conclude some business
there?'
Baffled, Don stopped writing, paused a few seconds and replied, 'Sleepyhead, go to sleep. It's
nothing. Just a meeting with a housing agent.'
Not satisfied, she persisted. 'She drives a red BMW car, and looks beautiful and elegant. Is
she someone I know?'
'No, you don't know her. She is Theresa. She helped me close a big real estate deal, and we
settle accounts at the Café.'
'How much commission have you earned? Do you have to share it with her?' she probed
further.
Don explained that Theresa brought the deal to him, and it was agreed at the outset that they
would co-broke, that is, share the commission, in this deal. He told her he made some one
hundred and fifty thousand, and said that at Theresa's request, he had donated twenty
thousand to a Catholic church.
Mabel flared up immediately, unable to contain herself anymore. She blurted out, 'Don, you
let these sluts trick you. You did all the work, and they just take half the commission from
you, and got you to donate money in their name. You should steer clear of female agents.
They sell their bodies to clinch a deal.'
Don remained silent. He was a little perturbed but chose to keep his mouth shut, for fear that
33

he would antagonize her further. It was always like this. When the sirens came, Don would
take the easier course of retreating into his shell of silence. He just switched off.
Mabel went on sarcastically to describe a lady who sold Japanese cars. 'You know, if you are
a handsome client. You could test-drive the car, and test-drive her as well.'
Don politely asked Mabel to go to sleep, but Mabel at this point contradicted herself and gave
him the telephone number of Ah Kiew, her hair-dresser, and asked him to help her find a
shop-house in Chinatown with living quarters above. 'You are the best person to help Jane,
since you come from the slums of Chinatown.' Don felt the derisive tone in her voice. He
noted down the telephone number, assured Mabel that he would contact Ah Kiew and
continued with his work
An icy chill had entered into his relationship with Mabel. He loved her but he disliked being
interrogated and controlled. He disliked her when she cut him into pieces over minor
disagreements, and tortured him when she flew into an intense rage. Only God knew how he
had exercise self-control to keep his marriage intact. He had kept himself clean for her - no
loose girls and no casual sex. He knew that lust was no respecter of persons. It could crawl
into his life with sexual temptations. It could shatter his sense of self-worth, and turn his
home into tatters. But even when Mabel became insanely angry or jealous, he maintained his
cool and frequently rationalized telling himself: 'thank God, she is alive and well, because the
only time when she remains quiet is a time when she is unwell.' He needed her and cherished
her, with or without tantrums, whether she behaved with soft angelic charm or like an
untamed shrew.
Don's involvement with small properties, especially in the leasing of shop-houses, was
infrequent. But dealing with rentals was the bread and butter of real estate work. This he
could not deny. Normally, he would leave this to real estate agents working for him.
However, Ah Kiew was Mabel's friend. He had to handle the matter on his own. In as much
as he disliked what Mabel had said about his past association with the Chinatown, there was
some truth in what she said. He knew Chinatown properties and could do an effective job.
After getting in touch with Ah Kiew and obtained information from her, he proceeded to scan
the advertisements in the newspapers as well as his own computerized listings. He selected a
few and discussed them with her. Eventually, a viewing session was arranged. Ah Kiew was
delighted with a small shop on the ground floor, located along New Bridge Road in
Chinatown. The location was ideal. It had a great deal of human traffic. The shop front had
already been done up, and the interior was well renovated. The shop was spacious, and even
had an office, a store, and several toilets at the rear. The second storey had four rooms a hall
as well as a kitchen and a bathroom. The Landlord had explained that Ah Kiew could use two
of the rooms; the other two had been rented out to some very old ladies who acted like
caretakers or cleaners in the building. Above all, there was no need to pay any transfer fee for
the lease, and the asking rental of three thousand was reasonable. After some bargaining, the
rental was fixed at three thousand for a tenancy of two years with option to renew for another
two years.
Don finished up the documents. A few days later, he collected his commission from Ah Kiew,
as well as from the Landlord. He muttered, "QED" to himself. He telephoned Mabel and
brought her to lunch.

34

Don told Mabel about his effort in helping Ah Kiew to find suitable shop premises in
Chinatown. Mabel talked a length about some fashion shows she had planned for the year.
Her business associates had got one fixed as part of the Super-Model show in the world of
fashion. She showed Don a typed letter offering her expenses, first-class accommodations at
Park Royal Hotel in London and a fee of ten thousand dollars if she wanted a guest star as the
commentator. In front of Don, she signed the acceptance note. She would be going to London
the following week.
For Ah Kiew, the prospect of getting a new shop unit in Chinatown was really exciting. After
the keys were handed over to her, she brought a friend, Linda, an assistant architect, to look
around with the view of drawing up some layout plans for renovation. Ah Kiew looked at the
old shophouse. In front, it was just like all the other old houses on the street, but as she
entered the shop, she felt a little dizzy. Sucking in a breath, she looked around. The main
door was painted blood red. On it were several pieces of paper of different colours – some
yellowish, some brownish. Most pieces were stained and dirty with a bleached look. The
walls looked damp. The wallpaper that peeled with the damp became slightly out of focus,
like a poorly taken photograph. It wasn’t until Linda closed the door behind her that she
noticed a form at the corner. Linda froze. She opened her mouth to scream. The form, a
small child with white eyes and a strange smile, dashed into a small room. Ah Kiew did not
see the form. When she asked Linda to explain her scream, Linda was silent for a few
seconds and then she said, “Let’s get out of this shophouse.”
Ah Kiew never believed in ghosts and spirits. But when Linda told her about the form she
saw at the shop house, she was not so sure about the supernatural.
When Ah Kiew met Don the next day, she never minced words. 'Don, why didn't you check
up on the shop properly before you introduced it to me? The shop was located at a site used
by the Japanese as Kempetei, where people were tortured to death. You know, the Japanese
were famous for their methods of 'water torture'. They forced men and women to drink water
until their stomache got bloated up and got killed that way. My friend, Linda and I
encountered a ghost at the shop house'
Don was quite skeptical. He thought that Ah Kiew had an overactive imagination. He then
introduced another tenant, Jane Lim, to take over the lease for the shop house. Nothing
happened at first, but something frightened Jane after she occupied the shop for a few
months. She then complained to Don about it. According to Jane, everything appeared normal
until after about three months of occupation of the premises. One night, Jane was tossing
about in bed and could not sleep. She suddenly felt something like a chill in the air. The she
heard noises outside of her room - sounds of a large number of people talking. The sounds
were weird and eerie. For a moment, she was frightened, but then the sound subsided later,
and she fell asleep. She dismissed the incident as a figment of her imagination. A few nights
later, around midnight, she heard the sounds similar to those made by people walking around
wearing high-heel shoes. . She also heard the rattling of keys. The next morning, the old
ladies staying in the rooms adjoining hers, asked why she returned so late, making these
noises. She denied this. But then, who could have made the sounds of high-heel shoes? Other
than Jane, nobody lived on the same floor.
One of her workers, a Malay cleaner told her she saw the "hantu" upstairs. She used the
Malay word for "ghost." She saw the apparition, a young girl with long hair sitting by the
kitchen table, smiling at her. The apparition was dressed in old-fashioned clothes, no hair, no
35

eyebrows, features melted and raw. She did not realize then that it was a ghost, as she walked
away. The cleaner, a lady in her forties, also added that her young daughter of five, had asked
her on a number of occasions, 'why were so many aunties standing in the hall upstairs?'
Don could not blame Jane for quitting the shop premises. He was partly to be blamed for not
having done enough homework before showing the property to any prospective client. But
then Jane was a Christian. How could she believe in this type of supernatural things? Why
was she so superstitious? Why not? Only the other day in church, she was told about an
engineer's wife. She was a church leader, one who prayed fervently and had been 'slain'
several times. In other words, she believed that the Holy Spirit had anointed her. Then came
news that her sister in Hong Kong had gone berserk. She flew there with some family
members. Convinced that spirits possessed her sister, this lady lay hands on her, and asked
for God's protection. She challenged the spirit to leave her sister at once and go into her body.
The outcome was disastrous. Her sister was healed, but then this lady had to be sent back to
Singapore in an ambulance to be warded in a mental hospital. She had been healed now, but
she never looked the same. A few months later, her young husband, an architect, developed
cancer and passed away. Jane knew this to be more than a story for gossip, because she knew
the couple personally. Could Don blame Jane for believing in ghosts and spirits?
Jane’s ghost story did not end there. It certainly did not end with her quitting the premises at
New Bridge Road and Sago Lane junction in Chinatown. Jane told Don something more.
According to Jane, soon after she moved to Aljunied Road to stay with her brother in an
apartment, a young ghostly figure followed her. It happened one night around eleven in the
evening after she had taken her bath and was changing into her pyjamas and tidying her hair.
She suddenly realized she was not alone. Someone else was in the room. She thought at first
it was her young nephew and she started talking to him, generally telling him not to peep at
her changing her clothes. The boy started hopping around. She heard strange noises of
anklets jingling. For 10 minutes, she heard the sound clearly, and she glanced at the boy and
saw the anklets on his leg. After the boy left the room, she questioned her brother, and found
that none of his children wore anklets, and none came into her room. Her brother consulted a
priest staying nearby, and was told this could be a homeless spirit. Jane said this ghost
haunted her for over a decade, but always gave her chances to win money, whether it was 4D
or Toto. The story was quite unbelievable. But according to Jane, the friendly ghostly spirit
only left her life, after an encounter with a hearse she saw at Bright Hill Temple, carrying a
photo of someone she knew in her neighbourhood at Aljunied. She bought 4D with the
vehicle number of the hearse and won a tidy sum, after which incident, the image of the ghost
disappeared from her recurring dreams and her life.
Check up on the reports in the Chinese newspapers in Singapore in July 2003. A university
don in computer science, revealed his encounters with supernatural phenomena, which led to
the sale of his family house. He spearheaded the formation of the SPI, an organization to
investigate the "paranormal" and ghosts. These ghost hunters would use the scientific method
in their investigations, employing equipment such as he electro-magnetic field detectors,
digital thermal scanners and the thermal imaging scope. All over the world, such
organizations do exist; but mankind still lacks tangible proof of any ghoulish beings. There
are people who specialize in parapsychology, but they had not made any headway in their
investigative studies along this ghoulish trail.

36

Nine
Devilish Plots
Don could not relax. He was thinking deeply about uncanny things and his analytical mind
turned to another triangle of life, the triangulation of God, Satan and Man. From time
immemorial, in whatever culture or creed, the interaction, conflicts of individuals and human
organizations and even human destiny have been intertwined with it. Mankind seemed to be
pre-occupied with ghosts, spirits and apparitions, real or imagined, that were reportedly
found - in deserted towns, castles or houses. They are scary all right, but do they count? Give
Satan some credit. The Devil is more astute and cunning in his work. His little ones have
taken the human form among us, doing his devilish work, creating terror, mayhem and
sometimes destroying the lives of good men.
In Paradise Lost, John Milton aptly described Satan's strategy of destroying what God has
created by corrupting and warping the human mind. To quote Satan, "the mind is in its own
place, and in itself, can make a heaven of hell and a hell of heaven."
Psychologists will tell you that human nature is perverse, and of the three dimensions of
personality, two out of three of them serve the Devil - the Ego and the "id" urges.
Now, you're thinking. Stop this nonsense about ghosts, spirits and apparitions. Look around
you and watch humanity. Screen those who are getting near to you for the devilish viruses
that have infected them. Yes, check their temperatures and other manifestations. If you are
not sure, quarantine them, or in common parlance, don't touch them even with a ten-foot
pole. That is the way for you to survive in this world.
Look at it from another angle. You are familiar with the World Wide Web. Who runs it? What
is its origin? The Internet had its early beginnings in 1969 when the US Defense
Department’s Advanced Research Projects Agency started the ARPAnet or Arpanet, a long
distance computer network, which tied together military researchers and universities to
communicate among themselves. This came about when ARPA hired an experimental
psychologist, named J.C.R. Licklider to organize a new research program on command and
control. Through his vision of human-computer symbiosis, Licklider and his successors
began to implement his inter-galactic network as the ARPAnet. Overtime, this grew and
eventually the World Wide Web Consortium (W3C) developed standards for the evolution of
the fastest growing part of the Internet, the World Wide Web. By mid-1990's, 30 million
people had crossed to the Internet. Today, more than 57 million people in over 150 countries
throughout the world use the Internet. For the first time ever, the world is now truly at your
fingertips.
37

Satan does not have to use "WWW" like you and I. He has his own "UUU". Yes, "You! You!
You!" Satan's Unet, the Ultimate Underworld of the Universe. is more powerful. Like the
World Wide Web, the Unet is also a vast globe-spanning network of networks, but it covers
both the physical and the metaphysical world. It is based on certain protocol controlled by
Satan himself, similar to the TCP (Transmission Controlled Protocol) of the Internet. He uses
it to send "SMS" to any human mind in different modes. If it suits his purpose, he will send
messages using the broadcast mode to bedevil an entire nation, or maybe, just you or
someone who could get close to you. So, be on your guard. Be alert, astute and abide by God,
trusting and loving Him, seeking His protection.
History still has no equal to the atrocities of the holocaust and the devastation of the two
World Wars of the past. No doubt, dark forces were at work influencing the human mind.
Looking at the world today, we are still perplexed to find the infliction of human sufferings
and deprivations of all kinds. Oftentimes, these sufferings were brought about by ourselves
and the perversity of our own nature, working through hatred, discrimination, jingoism, or
just plain greed. It is for this reason that for nations and social organizations, as for people
like you and me, eternal vigilance against the insidious growth of decay and penetration of
evil affecting our minds, is the only sure way of survival.
As you walk along the long, long road of life, you may not have encountered ghosts, spirits
or apparitions, but it is certain that at every crossroad or turning point, you will stumble upon
someone or something that will have impact upon your life or those near and dear to you.
Deep into the silence of the night, you may be able to ponder or reflect on those encounters
with the "UUU" and the little people or big people who have got to "U" because you fail to
close your doors or heed the soft gentle warnings in your head, in your soul.
This sets the stage for a glimpse of Don in the Eighties. A successful businessman, Don had
already laid the foundations for a happy stable life. He owned a few properties but still took
the plunge now and then to acquire properties or invest in business. He was blessed with two
sons and earned a name in the business world as one with the golden touch in property
transactions. He walked around with this huge NEC hand phone, a fat cheque book to look at
properties, especially vacant land or bungalow sites, ever ready to deal where the dealing was
worthwhile. He now longer wore his Ray-band sunglasses, but chose a pair of expensive
gold-rim glasses with multi-focal functions. He loathed Radio Pagers that everyone seemed
to be carrying around. These pagers made you respond like a dog to anyone who called you
at his own time and expected you to respond immediately. No more motorbikes nowadays! If
you were somebody, you drove a new Mercedes. Contractors and some professionals
preferred second-hand Mercedes. Younger social climbers had a predilection for BMW's.
Sports cars gave too much of the playboy image and were shunned; besides, the warm and
humid climate and the occasional sudden showers made it uncomfortable and inconvenient to
drive sports cars around.
Don first met Woo, the contractor who drove around in an old Mercedes, two years ago at a
meeting of the CCC (Citizen's Consultative Committee). He impressed Don as an active parttime community worker, and like everyone else, he gave generously to the Committee. These
people seemed to be carrying around wags of Five Hundred dollar bills, and ever ready to
make financial contributions when requested.
Woo cultivated Don for well over two years. Just a phone call and he would be there. Perhaps
38

he would come with the books that Don wanted, or the workmen to do renovation, or the
lorries to transport things. And he brought videotapes as well. Some of them were
pornographic, which Don returned immediately. When Don renovated the roof of one of his
houses, Woo rushed in to offer his services. Normally, Don would prefer to call for quotations
for this type of jobs. Woo quoted the sum of one dollar and eighty cents for each roof tile to
be replaced. This meant ninety cents for each tile, and nine cents for workmanship. Don
suggested that he might wish to get the Redland tiles from his friend, Mr B.C. Tan at sixty
cents each, and perhaps cut the price to one fifty per tile. Woo insisted on the price, and Don
agreed to it. The renovation was duly completed. Don paid for the bill, and the matter was
deemed closed.
Woo's devilish plot was to get Don and his uncle to put up two hundred thousand dollars each
to start a factory that manufactured stainless steel grille doors and windows to compete with
factories that manufactured aluminium materials. The moment he obtained the financial
contributions from them, and got the factory to start its operation, he started to plan how to
get rid of these two directors. It was really a mistake to make this investment. Don knew
there were risks involved, but he trusted Woo and admired his enthusiasm and his get-up-andgo. He knew the difficulty in getting contractors or sub-contractors to switch to stainless
steel. To fabricate a door or a window using the stainless steel channel sections and other
paraphernalia would require special tools. Just the electric saw itself to cut steel, it would cost
the contractors some three thousand dollars. This was the risk factor in this investment, but
Don did not heed the soft warnings in his mind. He let his heart rule him, and continued to
support Woo.
Woo could not write well, whether in English or in Chinese. He got the sales manager,
Edward, to prepare a letter to the Inland Revenue authorities, alleging that Don had violated
income tax laws. He confided to his friend, Edward, and started boasting how well he had
planned to start a factory and own it with no sweat and added, 'First, I will get rid of Don, and
then my uncle, and I'll have the factory all to myself.' There were some investigations on
Don, but the authorities found nothing incriminating. But the dusts did not settle down.
Edward got cold feet, and informed Don about Woo's plot. Don immediately referred the
matter to the company chairman, Woo's uncle who replied quite calmly, 'I hope you are
telling the truth about Woo. If he has done these atrocious things and plotted to take over the
company in this manner, then he should quit as the Managing Director. But if you accused
him falsely, you should also go.'
'Sure, call Edward to come over, and talk to him yourself. I will remain here until he comes,'
Don replied without hesitation.
Edward told the Chairman everything in the privacy of his office. Don had excused himself
and left the building. Edward related in full everything that Woo had confided to him - how
Woo plotted the whole scheme from the very beginning. He even described the way Woo
cultivated Don's friendship two years ago, and he showed the old man the letter he had
drafted for Woo, which was sent to the income tax authorities.
So, Woo lost his job as the Managing Director, and had to resign as a company director. Both
Don and Woo's uncle decided to wind up the factory. Both lost huge sums of money in this
fruitless venture, which ended with over-production and a serious cash flow problem. To
punish Woo, Don instructed his companies not to award any contract or give work to the
contractor.
39

A year later, Woo popped into Don's office unannounced. With a contrite voice, he admitted
how very sorry he was for what he had done. He told Don he had been baptised recently as a
Christian, and in his dream God had asked him to come to Don to seek forgiveness. Don
nodded and assured him that he was forgiven. Then Woo sat forward and in a sad voice
begged Don to give him some business as he was going through a great deal of financial
hardships. He added that as Christian brothers, they should help one another. This made Don
sit up, but he maintained his silence. Woo then tried another angle, and asked Don for copies
of the company's financial statements, so that he could make some claims to relieve his
financial burden. Don felt a little uneasy about this request, and asked Woo to contact him
again to give himself time to consider his many requests. He ushered Woo politely out of his
office room.
Lucky for Don, he decided to call Woo's uncle before acting on Woo's requests. His son, Wai
Mun answered. He was an accountant by profession, and seemed to be in the know about the
company's affairs. He had represented his father, the chairman on several occasions. Wai Mun
laughed his head off when he heard what Don had to say. 'Don't listen to this devil. He is not
a Christian, and has not become one. He knows your weak point, and tells you all this rot, to
take advantage of you. In fact, he had called my father several times to get the financial
statements, and was ignored. So in desperation, he used these tricks to get to you.' Don heard
Wai Mun's chuckle on the phone. In the background, he heard his sister giggling away. Don
was quite embarrassed, but felt relieved. He had to keep Woo at a distance, or get burned by
him one more time.
A few months' later, he met Mr B.C. Tan, the eighty year old building supplies merchant at a
dinner party. Don told the old man that he met his son, Peter and how helpful he was. He then
praised him for the quality of his Redland tiles. 'Suan-le, suan-le,' the old man uttered to
Don's surprise in Mandarin. Literally, he was saying, 'forget about the tile, okay.' Don became
bewildered and probed further. Old business friends like Tan would never open his mouth to
ask Don to pay for things. But on this occasion, it was Don who made reference to the roof
tiles first. So naturally, the old man asked him to forget about making any payment. He
added, 'you know, your friend, Woo came to me. He said you wanted the roof tiles. So I
quoted him the special price of sixty cents per piece for you. But the man mentioned that you
were in financial difficulties, and I allowed the tiles to be taken away without any payment. I
thought maybe someday when you earned enough, you would pay me in any case.'
Don knew that he had been tricked by Woo. He told the old man he had made full payment to
Woo, the contractor at the agreed price of one dollar and eighty cents. He had the receipts
from Woo, and would fax them to him later on. He asked Tan to take legal action against
Woo.

40

Ten
The devilish snares
Jane Lim’s problems did not end with the disappearance of the little ghosts that haunted her
or a long time. Something else was happening to her son, Bernard. He was the Devil’s target
as well. The devislish snares were there. Wait…let's stop right there, and take a look at the
situation. Take a minute to give your imagination a workout. Visualise the location and
setting - it had become Devil's Den, the favourite nightspot for youngsters in Singapore.
Every weekend, both Saturdays and Sundays, Bernard would hang out there with a group of
friends. These friends would bring others they knew to the hottest spot in town. Conjure up
several images of the place in your mind's eye - it was at once the hottest dancing spot where
booze and ice became readily available, an open arena to show your wits, your physique,
your tattoos and your latest gal. New friends, new gals - these meant new horizons for your
conquests, and you just craved for admiration. Yes, show these new guys a thing or two.
Open your eyes now - the Devil's Den was real. For Bernard, this was haven and a chance to
get away from boredom. He resented the bum rap he often got from his parents and teachers.
'Oh, you drive too fast; you cannot be trusted, you have no sense of responsibility; your
music is too wild and too wicked, and so on.' They just nagged and nagged. What Bernard
did not realize was the fact that he was exposing himself to all sorts of little devils sent to this
"Devil's pit" to ensnare him. He was also exposed to all sorts of fads and fetishes of modern
culture of the worst kind. As if he did not know? He knew all right - the drug culture, the
gangs and the wicked things that were going on. Just the other day, some of his friends were
sentenced to fifteen years jail for gang-raping an innocent girl who happened to come to the
nightspot with one of Bernard's friend.
Don had not seen Jane Lim for several years, but one day, he received an urgent call from her.
She asked Don to help her to bail Bernard out. He was caught for molesting a girl in a
popular nightclub. Bernard claimed his innocence. 'We were dancing after consuming some
alcohol. No drugs, just alcohol. And we were dancing together, cheek to cheek. It was a very
crowded dance floor. The girl claimed that I stroked her breast, but I didn't. Whatever it was,
it was accidental.'
'You know the law is very strict for molest. You could be caned and jailed,' Don remarked.
Bernard was given quite a light sentence. No appeal was made. A distinguished looking man
in a black suit turned to Jane, 'as your son's solicitor, I strongly advise against it. Any appeal
has its risks. Your son got eight months and three strokes of the Rotan. What happens if the
sentence becomes doubled or tripled? This has happened time and time again,' said the
41

lawyer in a cold and detached voice.
So Bernard found himself in prison. He was first confined in the Queenstown Remand
Prison, and locked in a cell with another inmate. He was caned and suffered immense
physical pain and mental torture. After a few weeks, he was transferred to another prison. As
he entered a dormitory full of people, he glanced around and noticed that some of them stared
at him, looking at his tattoo marks that adorned his arms, legs and his torso. He was no longer
proud of these marks. He used to think that they were marks of his manhood. Looking
around, he realized that they were in fact the satanic marks of evil, and there were so many
inmates cowering in shame at every corner with much more tattoo marks all over their
exposed bodies. He felt remorseful and shameful. For a moment, he panicked, as he did not
really know what to do. He put down his worldly belongings, all wrapped within his straw
mat, and sat down near the wall at the first vacant spot he could find. No sooner had he sat
down, he heard a loud yell above his head. A brawny, big-boned, burly fellow shouted some
Hokkien expletive at him, and told him to move away, claiming the spot as his own. Bernard
spluttered apologetically and jerked himself up and moved to another corner.
This was only the beginning. Bernard suffered a great deal, not just from bullies but from the
tedium and dreariness of a regimented life. Day in and day out he prayed for strength and
endurance. He knew the danger now of wasting his youth, hanging around nightclubs and
associating with people with a dark background of drug, sex and alcohol and a culture of
rebelliousness, delinquency and social malaise. He made a vow to steer clear of friends who
lured him into the Devil's pit of temptations and evil deeds.
Bernard had learnt a bitter lesson. Making new friends, being sociable and leaving the shelter
and comfort of one's home for social gatherings - these may seem harmless in themselves,
and may even be desirable if one maintains a sense of balance. But one must be astute and
alert, and be able to exercise caution in the selection of friends and companions. One must
also be circumspect in the choice of places for one's social contacts. Ordinarily, one should
know one's friends well enough before going out with them on a regular basis. You do not
need to be a social recluse, but must choose your friends, and pick them as close friends only
after due observation and reflection.
In both these scenarios involving the 'Devil's pit', caution was cast to the winds, allowing the
little devils to intrude into your innocent lives to create havoc. It is hard enough to stave off
one little devil like Woo in the first story. It is just impossible to insulate yourself from a large
number of faceless people who are new to you, and you cannot read their minds into which
the Unet might have sent 'SMS' to harm or haunt you.
Don found some new friends who could help him in his property business. One of them, Loh,
a timber merchant, regularly accompanied him to have lunch on week-days at eating houses
at Merchant Street, Geylang and other places that catered to ordinary folks. The luncheon
sessions were short, and were arranged by Lee or someone else each day. There was always a
flurry of phone calls, and then the luncheon sessions would be on. After each lunch, there
was always a rush by someone to foot the bill. Sometimes, they took turns to make payment.
Don exposed himself to many people in this way. They came from all walks of life. Some
were politicians or ex-politicians expounding their philosophies on a wide variety of issues;
others were just ordinary businessmen nodding their heads, often saying very little and just
exchanging pleasantries.

42

For Don, the luncheon sessions provided him with good contacts for his business. He
benefited from them at first. He had one opportunity of accompanying a group to India. He
met film stars in Chandramuki in Bombay. This gave him some thrills in life, and he found
new business opportunities involving India.
Then, one Mr. Loke took him to an expensive nightclub. Everything was thrown in - the most
expensive dishes, a beautiful girl to keep him company during the dinner and the club's
membership. Loke was patient. Six months later, he asked Don to introduce him to his friend
who worked in a government department. Don had nothing to do with any deal the person
had made with his friend. But the outcome, though profitable for Loke, turned out to be the
end of a distinguished career for his friend.
Another guy, one Mr. Loo pestered Don to invest in some China properties. After a great deal
of urging, Don went with a group of ten prospective investors to a province in South China,
and eventually he paid for his ten per cent share of a property project. Loo kept a Chinese girl
as a mistress there, and could have siphoned off some of the money to buy an apartment for
her. Poor management and other reasons resulted in the project being abandoned. Nobody
trusted Loo anymore; so there could not be any new injection of funds. So, the Chinese
authorities just took back the land on the ground that there was a breach of the Joint Venture
Agreement.
Don was moving downhill in his property business. It got worse and worse for him, as he had
invested heavily on a number of big projects. He had borrowed heavily, and banks refused to
grant construction loans for some of the lands he had bought. In the meantime, the economy
had plunged, and property prices had sunk to an all time low. What could he do? He could
not sell. He could not build. It seemed to be the end for him, having to face this financial
crunch.
At this point, his wife, Mabel, left him. This was indeed the anguishing point in his life. The
poignancy hit home as he reflected on the good old days and the long years of marriage with
Mabel. There was a tinge of sadness in Don's heart. His children appeared to have forsaken or
ignored him. Human nature seemed unpredictable. Human relationships at whatever levels
seemed fragile.
Suddenly, Don felt a sense of loneliness. The years seemed to have fleeted by without his
notice. Time is illusory. This is the present. The twentieth century had vanished. The twenty
first century has begun. Those fleeting years seem to be a dream for him. His mind was filled
with memories of the days gone by. He could not suppress the images that swarmed his soul.
Images of past, present and future seemed to dance around his eyes in a haphazard manner,
making him slightly confused and dazed.
For a while, the past that wretched part of his life involving business failures, seemed like
figments of his imagination, and the future seemed hazy and obscure. Only the present
seemed real, as he gazed at a poem he had written earlier:

43

Those fleeting years
Away those fleeting years and prime,
Even lingering in quietness - the tyranny of time,
Here am I with just some baggage,
Odd pieces of old belongings in the luggage,
And a scrapbook with turbid thoughts and images,
Even things untold, words unspoken, on its pages.
Yet I must go forward, forgive and forget
Limping along a lonesome lane of regret
Leaving behind memories too sad to recall
Still to stay strong; not to falter, nor fall;
That I might grow older, but wiser thru His light,
And follow a footway both right and bright.
T`s grace that has kept me to this day
And taught my soul to pray,
He held me up and set my feet upon a rock,
Upon which raging tempests cannot mock,
Even dark clouds can scarcely climb,
When I rise with firm faith and hope sublime.
And now time-tested like tempered steel
And absolved believing love and salvation real,
I remain strong with a new vision,
Ragged though I am, yet with conviction,
I stand true, trusted and tall,
And With God`s grace and this all,
Is to start, always anew, and wait Outside of heaven`s gate - even this late!
(Andrew Yip)

44

Eleven
In a prison cell
It has probably happened to you too – one of those mornings when you woke up and found
the eruption of a big pimple on your face. For young Bernard who was quite particular about
his face, this pimple was not just something itchy, it made him feel like cursing the oily food
he took a few days ago, and raging at tiny drips of blood that stained his face towel and the
pain he felt, as he squeezed the pimple. A friend, an older man, Mr. Woo, noticed Bernard’s
unhappiness and tried to console him. “See the doctor and get some medicine, “ he said.
“Look at things this way. You're still young. That’s why you still have pimples, once in a
while. Look at some of your friends whose faces are like the aftermath of a volcanic
eruption. Your pimple is like a decorative red spot; it sits well on your face.”
An ordinary conversation – except that this took place within a prison cell. Looking at
Bernard’s face, and touching his own, Woo suddenly sighed. The poignancy hit home, as he
thought about the stinging thorns of pain within his own life, thorns that suffocated the
growth of his healthy normal life. He was incarcerated for selling pirated VCDs. His wife had
left him, as she was too ashamed to be associated with him. Already, his family relationships
were in tatters. He used to be a Managing Director of steel manufacturing firm as well as a
contractors’ firm. After he was kicked out from his business firms, he could not find another
job; so he started doing odd jobs and ended up selling VCDs. He was remorseful, and
regretted that in his early life; he was dishonest in his dealings and cheated many people,
including his uncle and his friend, Don.
It was Christmas Day. Perhaps it was a coincidence that the film “The Grinch” was shown on
that day. Dr Seuss who wrote the book, “The Grinch that stole Christmas” was probably not
thinking of people like Bernard and Woo. Bernard could not help but think about the
“Grinch.” It was not because the film was exceptionally interesting or exciting. As a matter of
fact, he could not concentrate on watching what he thought was a boring film. But something
about it made him reflect about Christmas. Just the thought that many of his friends are
celebrating Christmas, having sumptuous food at fine restaurants, exchanging gifts with
loved ones and friends, and a host of other things, was enough to cause his emotions,
unpredictable and raw, to run wild. For several minutes, he felt a sense of remorse mixed with
several months of guilt over the mistakes that resulted in a disruption of his young life. As he
listened to the song, “White Christmas” on TV, he could not help but be prompted to ask
himself the question, “Do I have a Blue, White or No Christmas this year?”
The Christmases he knew in the past were always the same. There were endless shopping
45

trips that inevitably ended with the sound of the cash register or the hollow snap of the credit
card. His family would spend time watching television shows, playing Christmas records or
video cassettes and enjoying the festivities – that’s about all, apart from occasional trips to
Orchard Road area to watch the bright decorative lights.
As he passed the dreary hours, in fact, the darkest hours of his life on Christmas Day, it was
natural and inevitable that he asked himself the question, “What is there to rejoice?” The
question may seem flippant but it had loomed large in his mind all through the long hours of
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
It had been a harrowing time for him. His face took on a rueful look, as he regretted his
serious mistake in making friends with a bunch of social misfits. This would be his first
Christmas away from his family and friends. But then, they appeared to have forsaken him –
no visits, no cards, few letters. What shame had he brought to his family to deserve this
treatment? He did not molest the girl in the nightclub. 'The Law is an ass,' he muttered.
People seemed to have shunned him. He thought he knew those close to him, but they
appeared to be unpredictable. Ties of friendship or even kinship even seemed weak.
Whatever relationships with them in this hour of despair seemed fragile. “Was this a Blue
Christmas? Bernard was in a pensive mood.
Bernard knew that he would be released soon. Day in and day out, the routine was the same.
These dreary days and nights could drain the river of hope in him, and it could become a
trickle of frustration. But the Christmas message had given him the insight, that only "God
accepts us as we are and His love gives us the power and strength to overcome all difficulties
in life." At least the perspective seemed clear enough for Bernard. No Christmas was stolen
from him – by the Grinch or anyone else.
Was it a White Christmas or a Blue Christmas? Neither? Life is not simple like that – just
black or white; neither is Christmas blue or white. It is whether you have a Christmas with
God filling your heart and renewing your hope. He is the One who waits for you to fill your
thoughts and desires and expectations with Him. He was there on Christmas Eve and on
Christmas Day, and on all days of your life, he'll always be with you when you choose to stay
close to Him.

46

Twelve
China re-visited
It was a long flight for Donald Lee and he was half asleep most of the time. His destination
was a little town in South China called "Tiger's Gate," a township in the Guandong province
called “Humen”. From Singapore, the Lion City to Tiger's Gate - the distance seemed
immense. He had flown to China by the Southern Airline and landed at the Guangzhou
Airport alone. It was strange arriving in Guangzhou that night. It was cold and dark and very
late. Only Cheng, a distant cousin in China met him at the airport. It was already midnight.
He helped him to clear custom and immigration, and took him to the airport car park where
he left his BMW. The guy seemed to be loaded. The interior of the expensive car was
luxuriously done up. Car TV, stereo sets, DVD, car seats covered with velvety cushion covers
in tiger stripes. Don did not expect to see this type of extravagance in China. He knew that it
would be a long drive to Tiger's Gate. He could not help but mused, 'Tiger, tiger burning
bright, in the forests of the night." The journey took about two hours. The stereo system
blared away, bombarding Don's tired mind with Cantonese music.
Then the stereo set was turned off. Cheng started talking as the car left the airport and coasted
past rows and rows of tall buildings in the city. Cheng was apparently doing well in his
business. He claimed to have lots of properties in the town. He had divorced his wife and
living with his second wife and two children, a boy and a girl. He talked about properties a
great deal, and seemed to be interested to get Don to help him to get Singapore clients to buy
properties in China. As they talked, the car sped past the city center. Here the streets were
wide and lined with trees. The streetlights looked ornamental. Although it was dark, the
atmosphere was one of gaiety, as though there was a celebration of some sort going on. The
car left the city after fifteen minutes and swerved into the expressway. 'Impressive
engineering,' Don showed his admiration for the changes to the road system. He remembered
how differently the roads looked some ten years ago. The authorities had also spruced up
every structure along main roads. Dilapidated structures were removed, and new buildings
sprung up giving the towns and cities the modern look.
Why did Don select this little town in China for his retirement? He had some relatives there.
The cousin, Cheng, who picked him up at the airport came to Singapore once, and he could
recognize him, although he seemed to have aged. But Don had another reason to come to
Tiger's Gate. His close friend, Fred Wong was there, and he had invited him to go there to
help him operate his Language Training Center. Donald felt that it was a challenge. He also
wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city life in Singapore. He needed time to
reflect and to forget the past that haunted him. True, he still felt the pain and anguish of past
47

memories, but he was determined to move forward. Memories swarmed his mind. Past events
flashed before his misty eyes as he stood in front of the Training Center to re-start his life.
The Training Center building was a three-storied brick structure, erected many years ago. The
roof still looked good, although the red tiles had dark patches all over the place. The tall trees
shielded part of the building. Some windowpanes were broken. By the side of the building,
there was a large basketball court and behind it was a large garden with some plants and
flowers lining the edges. Don and Cheng entered the wide doorway of the building. The
timber doors were left open.
Fred greeted them warmly as they entered. Don could still remember Fred's boyish looks in
the university days. But now he looked a little distinguished, and a little severe, as he peered
through thick glasses, which rested on the lower portion of his puggish nose. But he was still
good-looking in a rugged way. He was tall and slightly on the thin side. He looked strong and
muscular, although he was in his fifties. He was tanned, and some white hair began to show
at the temples in his black hair.
Dr. Fred Wong, as everyone called him, had started the Training Center from scratch about
five years ago. The Center provided translation service for the provincial government
departments and several large business firms. It offered a number of courses at the adult
education and tertiary levels. These included management courses, business studies, and skill
training and language courses. Trainees or students were given certificates or diplomas. Some
of the students, including girls, stayed in the dormitories behind the main building. Don knew
at once that he could fit into the Training Center and made a contribution. He was given a
tiny flat as his accommodation at the Center.
Next morning, Cheng came with his sisters, and invited Don to join some relatives for
breakfast at a hotel restaurant. It was a sumptuous breakfast. Cheng mentioned casually that
he was quite tired of restaurant food. He ate very little, spending his time smoking and
chatting away, often boasting about the many properties he owned. A man with an inflated
ego - that was the impression of Cheng in Don's mind. He was full of fire as he talked
arrogantly about his many influential friends in the country. He said he was even more
powerful and influential a few years ago, and in those days he had to carry a gun around for
his own protection. He gave Don this advice: 'never trust strangers in this town. There are
tigers roaming outside. They could eat you up,' he quipped.
Don took this quip or flippant remarks rather lightly and replied in jest, 'Yes, beware of the
tigers. They are cunning and not easy to catch. They are lone hunters; they never hunt in
packs. They always made sudden leaps to ambush their prey, drag them to some dense
vegetative cover, and gorge them up. They normally took a great deal of trouble stalking their
prey, and then they attacked from behind. Tiger-hunters sometimes wear masks of a human
face and wear them on the back of the head.' Then he laughed and added, ' you know tigers
found in Southern China are very big. They could be as much as 2.7 metres long and weigh
175 kg. A tiger has a long body and short flexible limbs like you.' It was fortunate that Cheng
did not take offence to the latter remark. He seemed to enjoy the conversation and asked,
'how do you know so much about tigers, Don?'
'Oh, I got it from the Internet. I was checking up on Tiger Woods, the world number one
golfer and then I found the web site of the Tiger Information Center, which gives a great deal
of information about tigers whose species is "Panthera tigris." You know there are black
48

tigers as well as white tigers. There are white tigers without stripes too: it seems that the
stripe pattern is only visible under reflected light. Today, there are only five thousand to
seven thousand wild tigers living across Asia.'
The light-hearted conversation ended there. The group left the restaurant. Cheng then took
Don around in his BMW to show him some of the town attractions. As he drove, he fumbled
around two of his hand phone sets, making and receiving calls endlessly giving the
impression that big business transactions were taking place all the time. Hand phones were
the latest status symbol, not only in Singapore but also in China. Don used to watch with
amusement people holding their mobile phones in MRT trains, in crowded buses and almost
any public places, as though these were religious objects. Both young and old would tap
vigorously on the keys with the same intense devotion as Buddhist monks counting their
beads or hammering the tock-tocks. In the old days, Don used to carry a big NEC set, but
hand phones had become smaller and more elegant each month, and there were more
features. In China too, the craze was hand phones and of course they also became
conversational topics.
'Why are you still using your Ericsson T-28?' Cheng enquired in a mocking voice. Anyway,
at that time Iphone was non-existent.
'It still serves me well. I have traveled several times round the globe with it, ' was Don's curt
reply. He felt a little irritated.
As the BMW cruised around, Don could not help but notice that China had undergone a
dramatic transformation. He had come to China in the Seventies. At that time, the road was
swarmed with bicycles and trishaws. Men and women, young and old, all dressed in their
blue attire, were found cycling, some clicking the bicycle bells as they rode on. The streets
were noisy, noisy with bells and yells. He remembered distinctly making an appointment to
see the Managing Director of a shopping center in Changzhou. He waited anxiously outside
the shopping center for him, and met face to face this important guy, waving at him when he
arrived in his bicycle, and later locking it outside the shopping center. Don was amazed at
that time because he just arrived in China from London where formal attires and decorum
ruled big businesses.
Now things appeared to be different. The roads were filled with cars and some motorcycles.
Don was surprised to find so many ladies riding the motorcycles. They weaved from lane to
lane, swerved into walkways and pavements, and occasionally climbed into public places like
the wet market. Don had traveled widely, and noticed lady motorcyclists riding bikes or
scooters only in Italy and France. Here in China, they could be found almost anywhere. Don
thought of them as lady generals riding on horseback. Don noticed that most motor vehicles
were manufactured in China. Occasionally, you found the usual Japanese models, like Toyota
and Honda and European models like the Citroen and the Volkswagen. People drove on the
right hand side of the road. There were traffic lights and double-white lines and pedestrian
crossings, but motorists disregarded them. Just like in Indonesia or the Philippines, the cars
drove into the middle of the road and stayed there to cross over to the other side of the road.
They also made U-turns, just about anywhere, or they could drive on the wrong side of the
road to wait for a chance to turn the car the other way round. Such was the motor situation.
But there seemed little harm in all these infringements, because the motorists and the
motorcyclists went about slowly in critical situations, looking out for vehicles and giving way
to pedestrians and smaller vehicles. They just did not want to be involved in road accidents,
49

but road courtesy was often cast out of the windows, as people cursed and swore at one
another as they drove along. Now and then, Don heard the sound of music on the road, as
though someone was playing the flute and re-playing the same melody ad nauseam. He was
puzzled for a few days. Only later did he find the source of the music. It came from trucks
used for watering roadside plants. The trucks broadcast the music as they moved slowly
along the major roads.
Buildings naturally attracted Don, a real estate man. He noticed that construction work could
be found almost anywhere. New condominium estates and villas had replaced some of the
older shop houses and old residential estates. Brand new air-conditioned shopping centers
were the star attractions, and they featured some of the big names found in cities like London,
Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, such as the KFC, the MacDonald, Carefour
supermarket, Sony and Mercedes. All the trappings of progress and modernization were
there, and the process was accelerated as foreign investments poured in. What impressed Don
most were the improvements in the sanitary systems. He remembered squatting in toilets
served by a drain structure in the Seventies. But now everywhere there were proper water
closets and they were kept in a reasonably hygienic condition.
But China had to feed billions of people. It was not surprising to find large groups of people,
especially those from the north, sitting by the roadside waiting for work. They waited outside
any building where renovation was in progress. One could just approach them to do any sort
of heavy work, including carrying heavy machineries, floor tiles, bricks, steel bars and the
like. Some could transport things for you too, if they had a cart of any description.
For transport, there were the usual trains, buses and taxicabs; but most unusual were the
motorbikes acting as passenger vehicles at half the price of the taxicabs. The town was
teemed with such motorcyclists wearing some sort of orange-colored jackets as their uniform.
Once Don had settled down, he started to contact Li Chin whom he had contacted on several
occasions in Fuzhou. She was flushed and spoke excitedly when Don called her on the hand
phone. 'Don, is that really you?' she laughed in relief as she heard his gentle voice. 'I miss
you. Sure I do. What? You want me to come to Tiger's Gate and stay with you? Are you
serious? Okay, meet me in Guangzhou on Saturday afternoon. I'll fly in from Xiamen by the
three o'clock flight. My office people will contact you to give you the flight details.' She was
still very much in love with Don. They chatted on gaily, laughing at times, and whispering
sweet words to each other occasionally. For hours they talked. Two hearts separated for years
became entangled again. Their hearts now started beating gently together, and their voices
became low murmuring sounds that were sung in unison. They stood still there holding the
phones, separated by thousands of miles, but their souls were bound together in mutual care
and devotion, assuring and comforting each other with sweet words of love and discarding all
thoughts of the emotional scars that marked their painful past and the anguish in their years
of separation.
Don did not want to trouble any of his relatives. He felt that meeting Li Chin at the
Guangzhou Airport was a deeply personal and private affair and perhaps, it could be too
emotionally charged an event to be exposed to the gaze of strangers. So on Saturday, he
chartered a taxicab for two hundred Yuan, and left for the Airport. After a short wait, Don saw
Li Chin stepping out of the entrance. She caught sight of Don immediately and flashed a
radiant smile. She looked gorgeous. Those fleeting years of separation had not eroded away
any of her beautiful features - her beautiful long black hair, her sparkling brown eyes, the
50

gentle curves of her lips, her pretty face was still stunning though there might be a few tiny
lines round the eyes if she leaned closer towards the mirror to look at her face.
Don's heart was throbbing as he held her hands in his. He hugged her, smelling the sweet
fragrance that exuded from her body. Tears were streaming from her eyes, as he held her
close to him. His head was in a whirl. He seemed to be wheeling round and round in circles,
as time stood still. Momentarily, he was dazed. Until this moment Don had refused to
acknowledge it even to himself: he had fallen in love with her even when he was married to
Mabel. That love still burnt in him; so let it burn away the scars of the past. At the moment,
he was free to love and cherish Li Chin. There would be no sense of guilt - no sin or shame
that bothered him every Sunday morning, hearing the countless sermons, which seemed to
mark him out as being despicable or contemptible, and always ending with the admonition
that the wages of sin was death. He taught he would die too - might as well be dead; but then
those who pontificated on this theme mercilessly revealed that the death in question was
spiritual death. So he had been spiritually dead for a long time.
A long ride from the Airport to Tiger's Gate followed. The journey seemed shorter, as the
lovers clung to each other, whispering in low murmurs, words of encouragement and of love.
Occasionally, her face was wistful, and she needed his assurance that they would be together
and their love and relationships would not be obliterated by the fetters of Don's past. They
reached the town at six in the evening, just in time to meet Dr Fred Wong and join him at
dinner.
It was a cold and dark night. Don placed two narrow beds together in the room at the
Training Center. He grinned and explained that there were no double beds. He placed the
suitcases on the wooden racks. Li Chin was smiling as she opened a suitcase to take out some
clothes. She opened a bag and took out the container with toothbrush and toothpaste. She
went into the attached bathroom and brushed her teeth in up and down strokes. Then she took
her clothes into the bathroom and closed the bathroom door. Don turned on the water heater
for her, as she started to take a shower. Don waited for her in the room. He appeared to be
reading a book, but could not concentrate. He read the same lines over and over again, but
nothing appeared to have entered his head. His long wait paid off, as he saw Li Chin stepping
out in her new floral pyjamas and switching off the bathroom light and the water heater at the
same time. Don was thrilled to see her in pyjamas. He gazed at her lovingly as though he saw
her for the first time. Perhaps there was some truth in this, as this was the first time she
showed herself to him in pyjamas, which could convey feelings of intimacy.
Li Chin had never been in a man's room before. True, she had an affair with Don, but always
in the massage center where she worked as the Manager. She stood in the center of the room
staring at the pictures that were hung on the walls, and the heaps of books on the bookshelf
that seemed to be rather untidy. He walked towards her and held her in his arms. He then
kissed her passionately on the lips, and led her gently to the beds. She meekly followed him.
She felt a sense of panic, as he helped her to remove her pyjamas. He unbuttoned the pyjamas
top and removed it slowly, revealing her soft body and the bra. He then inched the pyjamas
bottom down, gently pulling at the elastic band and easing it downwards, as she arched her
butt upwards to allow the pyjamas bottom to slip off from her thighs and then the ankles. She
was now undressed down to her bra and panties. There was a red glow on her face, and a
shyness on it that caught Don's gaze. He leaned forward and kissed her lips, while his hand
fumbled with her bra. Another hand stroked her belly and his fingertips lightly lifted the
edges of her panties. She gulped back her tears, which were streaming down her cheeks. Her
51

body trembled as his fingers touched the sensitive areas inside her panties. She breathed
heavily, twisting and turning in convulsive movements. Then she became completely naked,
exposing her slender body and her breasts to his fond gaze. They made love, sealing the bond
of love between them.
Words were vain when bodies and souls became one. Fusion had taken place. No longer
were they afraid or swamped by feelings of guilt and shame. They were free - free to love.
Melodies of love filled their aching hearts, as they pledged to marry as man and wife. For
them, it would be once again:

“Sunrise, sunset; Sunrise, sunset,
Swiftly fly the years.
One season following another,
Ladened with happiness and tears.”

Sunrise
The sun rises in the East - Nature’s law for sure.
Sunrise - no surprise, blessings from its rays pure.
But suns rise and set, flowers bloom and wither.
We count the suns rising; they give light but whither.
Sunrise - sunset, time and the hour will pass,
Perchance a pattern, but the paths of grass,
Trodden or untrodden, could diverge or change
Into paths of straw or what’s more, side-tracks strange.
Sunrise - sunset, each change follows the change before,
In sequence, like waves splashing against the shore.
For oft they fondly move over pebbles and sand;
Yet ever fickle or in rage, fury unleashed foulest on land.
Sunrise - sunset, one season following another,
By the grace of God - Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter.
We count again the suns rising; they endeavour to shine.
There is but one, the one ever - the Light of mine.

52

Thirteen
A “tiger” in Tigers’ Gate

There were no tigers roaming the streets of Tiger's Gate. For one thing, there were no jungles,
not even human jungles. People in this town were courteous, kind and law-abiding. Things
moved slowly. There was no rush and little need to struggle very hard for survival. The law
of the jungle - 'survival of the fittest' does not apply here. It applies only to cities and
international centers, where meritocracy and keen competitions are the keynote to climb the
ladder of success. Everyone feels that Tigers’ Gate is a safe place.
Don and Li Chin felt relaxed and comfortable in this small town. There was no mad rush, no
great need for time-management or clock-watching. They could take time to look at the
beauty of nature and enjoy each moment to the fullest. Here they could take the winding path
that led through graceful meadows, along rippling streams lined with colourful wild flowers
and plants. Twilight found them sitting on a bench in the garden by the lake, and watched the
shimmering lights reflected from the ripples of the water. They could also enjoy all the
amenities in the public parks, which were superbly maintained. These parks brought them
back to nature, where the earth and every common sight, the tall trees, the plants and the
flowers, evoked strong feelings that "a thing of beauty is a joy forever."
The couple, now married, still needed time to fit into the social lives of the community. But
they had made some new friends here - mostly intellectual folks. It was not too difficult for
them to fit into any group. They were welcomed in any social setting, but they could always
choose to go somewhere quiet, somewhere resembling the villages of the days gone by. Or
they could choose to go to the countryside where there were gardens. There they could
breathe in the aroma of plants and flowers, listen to the bubbling brook or watch the birds,
the swans and the ducks in their habitats. Life each day was a fresh learning experience.
Work each day brought fulfillment and a sense of achievement. Don felt a new sense of
peace, being far away from the maddening crowd in Singapore, far away from people who
did not seem to care - no phone calls, no cards, not even on his birthdays.
No tigers in Tiger's Gate. No stalking of prey. No attack from behind. This town was indeed
peaceful. Men, women and children felt safe on the road. Don and Li Chin felt safest and
most secured in church. In China, there was freedom of worship, and in this town, there were
a good number of places of worship. So, the couple attended church every Sunday and
listened to sermons in Cantonese and "Putong-hua." God's words were preached rather
effectively here, and the few Christian churches stood like a beacon, sending bright rays of
hope for salvation and comfort.
The people they met in church turned out to be the same as those in many churches
elsewhere. Warm hearts, nice people who could give support to others, prayer warriors,
53

counselors - they could not be found. There were friendly handshakes and the exchange of
pleasantries, and it stopped there. But God is love. Surely in a church, love would flourish
and bonds of friendships would grow. Perhaps, one could err by being hasty in judging the
dynamics of human relationships in the church setting. Perhaps there was still hope, as
ordinary folks like us began to realize the importance of gathering around the pre-eminent
One, at least on Sundays, for worship, for encouragement, for instructions, for expression, for
support and for the carrying out of God's given role on earth.
Don stood in front of a house at "Char-San," literally translated as "Tea Hill" This was his
great grandfather's house. The building was of brick structure, and still stood solidly through
so many decades. It was a small house but was quite well maintained. It was maintained by
Siang, the lady who brought him to view the ancient house.
Siang was ecstatic when he heard the news from Cheng that Don would be coming. She
could not sleep for several nights, thinking about it. At this time of her life, she was in her
fifties, but she looked much older. She had a good family and a horde of grand children.
Siang always regarded Don as a brother, when she was in Singapore. They grew up together
in the Chinatown. Siang left Singapore with her parents when she was a teenager. She had not
seen Don for well over forty years. Her mind was full of memories as she talked about the
past. Her mind was clear; she remember almost everything, and many of those near and dear
to Don. She plied him with endless questions about the changes in Singapore.
Those fleeting years - Don felt strange as he stared at Siang. Images flashed through his mind
like those in a kaleidoscope. In his mind's eye appeared several different images, overlapping and sometimes inter-posing among the others - images of a sweet girl in pig-tails in
her teen years, and those of an old lady with white hair, bent with age and with deep wrinkles
on her tired face. This was a woman who had struggled and toiled to bring up her children.
Backbreaking work and onerous duties had taken their toll on her. Meeting her and coping
with the confusing images in his mind and the swarm of memories was an emotional
experience for Don. But things had turned around for Siang. She and her husband possessed a
house. Her only daughter married a rich and successful businessman, and financially
supported her. They had built a mansion close to the rather dilapidated house that Siang
owned. The other four children were all married and appeared to be village folks, still
struggling to maintain themselves, but they all rallied around her, staying close to her house.
These were simple people - village folks before, but now their lives touched and changed by
the relentless transformations around them - modernization, urbanization and rapid
industrialization. They still stood at the fringe, partly urbanized, and partly entrenched in
their accustomed rural traditions and activities. Just look at the huge mansion built by her
daughter's husband. The house was a picture of modernity, but the garden was at once a
vegetable plot, a poultry farm and an orchard. Look at the livelihood of Siang's children.
They drove Japanese cars, tapped on the keys of their newly acquired hand phones and
dressed in their 21st century fashion splendour, but they worked in the neighbourhood farms
and ponds as fishermen and undertook various types of rural jobs.
Don and Li Chin were full of admiration for these folk. They exuded a warmth and
friendliness that was devoid of sham and artificiality. They were genuinely joyful in meeting
someone that mattered to their mother. They asked questions and details about her life in
Singapore, people and things her mother had mentioned to them. The hospitality they had
shown affected Don deeply. In Don's eyes, they were "big" people, as they were courageous,
54

secure, productive, not afraid of hard work, and not intimidated by the odds against them.
But Cheng did not have good words to say about them. He insinuated that Siang's son-in-law
obtained his wealth through illicit deals. He said he had provided employment to two of her
children. Don did not say anything but in his mind, he asked 'so what?' Don appeared to be a
little annoyed with Cheng's show of "upmanship."
Don treated Cheng's remarks as those from "little" people. It was possible that he disliked any
disparaging remarks about Siang and her family. But really such remarks were uncalled for,
and distasteful to say the least; they were from "little" people who frown on other's life and
work, depreciate, question, doubt, criticize, and forever search for the flaw in others.
The day after taking Don and Li Chin to see Siang and her family, Cheng drove around town
all by himself. In a sense, he was a loner when it came to business dealings, especially in
property transactions when he had to sniff around for fresh listings. His bright keen eyes
sometimes burnt with animal passion as he prowled around in his car, peering at signs,
hunting for those put up by "SBO's" (Sale by Owners). As the car cruised along, he reflected
deeply about his own factory business. It was going downhill. Already, he had closed one
company that was involved in the production and distribution of transistor radios. The only
two workers left in his factory were employed in the production of some electrical switches
that were easy to manufacture. But the orders were small and inconsistent. He was worried he
might have to sell his BMW, and that would be shameful. He could not go around and drive a
small Japanese car. What would people say?
He remembered that Don showed some interest in acquiring a property in Tiger's Gate.
Coming from Singapore, it was possible that he could afford a small apartment. But would he
be interested in the apartments in this block? There was no harm in trying. He checked the
properties in the block. So in front of Don, he made a number of phone calls checking on
their asking prices. None of them seemed to be interested in selling 'Play it cool. Wait for the
chance to show Don the asking price of one of the flats, and then jump in to make him an
offer myself,' he said to himself.
It turned out that Don moved even faster than him. He heard that the couple was negotiating
for the purchase of one of the most expensive apartments in a nearby block. The apartments
there were new and large. He knew he had to do something fast. He dashed around town
briskly, hunting around, checking up listings and rushing into real estate shops. He was
always a loner when it came to hunting for properties, but his instincts served him well. At
last, he found another block of flats, quite similar to those apartments, which Don was
viewing. He went straight to see the owners, and negotiated with them. He quickly hopped
into his BMW, and sped off with the thunderous roar of the car engine. His savage instincts
were aroused but he smiled complacently and with a wild and weird sense of arrogance
reflected, 'Ah, they are fast, but I am faster.' He was ready to leap in, swift and sure, for the
kill.
'Don, I know you are looking at the property in Stillgreen, but you will be cheated. You don't
know the properties here, especially the intricate laws. You are a foreigner. There might be
serious problems in getting the titles for the apartments you are looking at. Let me help you
to find something similar, a property that you can purchase without any risks and cheaper. I
know the boss of another block close by. I'll come back to you real soon.'

55

Don trusted Cheng's judgment because he was in property business for a long time, and he
had good connections. Cheng was a picture of opulence - driving around in a new BMW,
operating a factory and owning so many apartments. He was generous too, paying for some
groceries at the Supermarket, taking him to expensive restaurants on various occasions, and
even insisted that he should stay in one of his apartments. So, when Cheng made the offer to
look for a suitable apartment for him, he did not object.
Cheng came back to Don the very next day. He said that the owner and developer of the
block of flats, known as "Southaven" had agreed to the special price of three hundred and
fifty thousand dollars on the condition that the money must be paid in full within seven days.
He took Don and his wife to view the apartment. He took it upon himself to pick the
apartment. He said he was an expert in geomancy, and gave reasons for his selection. Don
and Li Chin both thought that his zeal was a reflection of his caring attitude; so they
acquiesced.
The couple rushed back to Singapore to get the large sum of money to pay for the purchase of
the apartment. Cheng had explained that another buyer was negotiating for the purchase of
the same flat; hence the urgency to close the deal. This was definitely a lie.
Don was supposed to bring back the money in actual cash, and Cheng would meet him at the
Airport. By sheer luck, Don heeded the advice of his bankers and brought back a bank draft
and not cold cash. He could have lost every cent if he had handed the cash of five hundred
thousand to Cheng for safekeeping. Actually, Cheng was not after the sales commission. He
was after the 500,000 RMB.
So the purchase was made, and Cheng looked disappointed. It was not known whether Cheng
obtained a sales commission. In all probability, Cheng had been given the commission. His
behavior was strange and somewhat aggressive after Don concluded the deal with the
housing developers.
But that was not the end of the story. Soon after Don obtained the keys to the apartment,
Cheng again approached Don to discuss renovation, including electrical and building works. .
He rattled off names of people who were specialists in various types of work - ceilings,
flooring and wall tiling, plumbing and electrical works. Gesticulating and in a loud voice, he
mentioned that he was an expert building contractor and had handled the building works of
several leading hotels and restaurants in the town. He quoted the names of a few to convince
his listeners, staring at the ceiling as he spoke, and occasionally spitting on the floor. Don
made a mistake letting Cheng handle the renovation. Cheng again cheated Don a huge sum
of money.
More pugmarks were found. Cheng not only cheated on the renovations. He also made huge
sums from the purchase of furniture and the furnishings of the apartment. He even tried to
persuade Don to purchase another apartment and to invest in some commercial properties.
Don realized then that Cheng wanted to make a fresh kill. He was his prey at the outset.
Cheng stalked him and knew he was looking at apartments. He got close to him to gain his
confidence, offering advice and help and creating the impression that he was an expert in
properties and in renovation. He even gave the impression to people that Don's apartment
was his. He had registered all the equipment purchased by him under his name. He made
some ten thousand RMB in the installation of telephone lines from Don, and he then
registered the phone lines under his name as well. Perhaps this was part of his plan of attack.
56

Don and Li Chin had severed all relations with the cunning ravenous creature that had been
stealthily stalking them. They had disconnected their old telephone lines, and installed new
ones. The apartment was now firmly registered in their names and shown in the titles to the
property. Security guards were told not to allow the special human-like species of Panthera
tigris to get into the building. These were measures Don and Li Chin had taken for their own
protection.
There is no tiger in Tiger's Gate, but one hungry man-eater still roared in the peaceful town
and continued to prowl silently in the streets, camouflaged in the garb of our physical habits,
stalking for prey, and seeking to devour. Like all such creatures, they moved stealthily and
close to their prey and pounced upon them from the back. There is no jungle in Tiger's Gate,
but somewhere out there, one could still hear the echo of 'tiger, tiger, burning bright - in the
forests of the night.'

57

Fourteen
Epilogue
Mabel rushed off to have lunch with Jim Fong, her new husband. Jim owned a shopping
center in Singapore, and Mabel started a branch of her Modeling Agency there. Jim had made
it possible for her to enlarge the scope of her agency work to have a weekly television fashion
show. She was a celebrity in her own right. As she entered the restaurant also owned by Jim,
she felt a new sense of power. She even had controlling interests in a modeling agency in
New York. So, this afternoon's lunch was intended to discuss the future plans of the New
York agency with some business associates from America.
At 12 noon, two of the American businessmen came, Ralph and Bob. Both of them were in
their thirties. Bob handled the New York operations and Ralph handled the finance.
'I have studied the way our Agency had operated both locally and elsewhere. We've got to add
some juice to the operations, and developed a large clientele. I'm basically a marketing man remember that. Now we need to fly to New York immediately and work out a new business
plan from there.'
As Bob spoke, Mabel watched him intently. He was handsome, cold looking, but handsome.
It would be exciting to work with him in America, she thought. Bob's eyes rested on Mabel.
She took out from her satchel a few document, giving him some inkling on the business plans
she had drawn up with Jim's help. They began to study the documents; questions and answers
followed, with Ralph joining in.
From the corner of her eyes, Mabel became aware of the absence of Jim Fong. She took a sip
from her glass and watched Jim holding the hands of one of her supermodels at the corner
table some distance away, and appeared to be whispering to her. Momentarily, she felt her
face flushed as her whole being was consumed by raw suspicion. When Jim returned to the
table later, she gave him an icy stare. She loved Jim, but he could never rouse her like Don.
She never got the same thrills, never climaxed with such sexual abandon. Was Don Lee just a
name from the dim past? She sometimes asked herself this question. But she knew she only
cared for Jim, and she would never let any slut get near him. Her possessiveness sometimes
resulted in tiffs with Jim, but thank God, they always made up after that.
Jim had been good to her. He had given her a girl, a lovely sweet girl, now attending primary
school. Her children by Don had graduated from medical schools, and she felt sure that Jim
would help them to start a medical clinic, after they had completed their stint as medical
officers in government hospitals. She felt sure that she could protect Jim from being ensnared
by pretty young things that could be found in his shopping center. She was confident that her
relationship with Jim could be maintained. No more failures. The years had slipped by as she
found some gray in her hair. But she had learnt the art of controlling her temper. This was
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good for her business as well. She needed support from her clients, as well as her staff,
especially the models.
Mabel and a few models boarded the plane bound for New York. The big headline on the
front page of the Business Times carried a story about her Agency. But when the plane was
airborne, she wasn't reading the papers. She took out a letter from her bag, read it over and
over again, and smiled. The letter was from Don who wrote to her from China. He still cared
for her, and filled her with news about his work and occasionally he made reference to Li
Chin. No, to her, Don was not really a name from her dim past. She still got flashes in her
mind of his boyish smiles, and his gentleness and love, a love that was not really completely
extinguished when she broke off from him because of the few angry words exchanged
between them, and - yes, his business failures. At that time, he was a "wash-out." Nobody
wanted a loser.
Wong Kim Ming no longer worked as a lathe operator. His family had shifted to Changzhou,
and he had bought himself a small apartment there. He heard about Changzhou from his
cousin, Don, who gave him a reference to get a job. He met the man who used to work for
Don, and after an interview, he was given the position of a maintenance executive for a
shopping center development. He had done well in the position and recently was promoted as
Assistant Maintenance Manager. He lived with his wife and two daughters, both of whom
had graduated from the university and found some sales work.
Don sat on the plane and was reading the newspapers. His face broke into a broad grin. Then
he passed the papers to Li Chin.
'What is it, Don?' Li Chin asked.
'It's about the lecture I had given to the International Forum last week and our international
school in Vietnam and those in China.'
Don now owned a chain of international schools. Some of them followed the curriculum
materials supplied by the International School Services. They were very popular as they were
linked up with other international schools all over the world. Don had to work very hard to
get staff. Recruitment of school staff involved traveling to Boston and sometimes to London.
At this point of time, he was flying to London with Li Chin to attend a recruitment fair held
at the Park Royal Hotel.
Another category of international schools are Chinese International Schools founded by him,
using a combination of Chinese and English for teaching various subjects, and fully
accredited by a few tertiary institutions in China. Li Chin started helping Don in the
management of these schools, and had transferred the management of her business in Xiamen
to her sister.
Don made many friends in China and received a great deal of help from the various officials
working with the authorities. Besides running the schools and various training institutions,
Don had started the production of magazines, and engaged in some creative writing on a
regular basis. He was also a regular speaker on TV and had impressed viewers with his expert
opinions on a variety of political, social and educational issues.
Don had never heard from Cheng and his family members, since the days of renovation of his
59

apartment in Tiger's Gate. He did not want to have anything to do with them. He heard from
Siang that Cheng had not been doing well, and occasionally had to receive psychiatric
treatment for rather bizarre images of animals in his mind.
In a block of dilapidated apartments, Cheng growled. Furiously he kicked the ground floor
garage door open, and pushed out a dirty old motorbike. He closed the garage door and
locked it. He started the engine and roared off to the other side of town.
Cheng was in the dumps. He was plagued by business failures. True, he sniffed around for
good properties to do a fast kill, earning fast money to fill his greedy heart. But opportunity
no longer knocked on his door. In fact, he had no door; he stayed with his sister for the
moment, as the banks seized his few properties. His real trouble started when he began to
venture into the types of businesses that he knew little about, and he misplaced his trust on
those new Taiwanese friends recently introduced to him by his "mahjong" companions.
Just a few months ago, he met this beautiful Taiwanese lady, Mandy. She enchanted him. He
liked the way she talked and the way she walked Her Mandarin was impeccable, with a slight
Hokkien accent. He liked her sultry looks and her sexy gait, the swing of her long soft hair,
and the white smooth skin and slender legs. She took him to her business lounge in
Guangzhou city. There, her girls entertained clients. But apart from just being a club for
social gatherings, it was also a business center for her main line of business involving the sale
of the "Hallucinator."
The "Hallucinator" captured Cheng's imagination and interest. This was the latest craze in the
Twenty First Century, and it had come to China. It was like a time capsule. You could sit
inside, press a few of the electronic switches, and you would be transported to a fantasy
world, a world of your own imagination on a selective basis. You could select to be in a pub
in England, and presto the sights and sounds and activities of the pub immediately enveloped
you. Cheng frequently selected the "Harem" mode, and sometimes the "Jungle" mode.
Mandy had assured him that these machines had no harmful effects, and the "Challenger," the
person who entered the capsule always came up tops. That was the intricate way the experts
had designed it. Mandy whispered to Cheng that her boss was very pleased to know that
Mandy had a close friend, and was prepared to sell some machines to him. 'Just imagine the
possibilities. You could place all these machines in clubs and bars - yes, even in schools for
geography lessons. Don't let this business opportunity slip out of your hands,' she touched his
neck and whispered into his ears.
So, the papers were signed. Cheng paid for ten "Hallucinators," each costing 30,000-yuan. He
sold some of his properties to get the cash. He had slept with Mandy, and wished to please
her. Like a good businessman, Cheng had asked about the returns for his investment. He was
told that since he did not have any clubs, bar lounge or restaurants of his own, he could resell these "Hallucinators" to her Taiwanese company. He would be paid six hundred each
month for a machine as hiring charges for it. He was told he could terminate this arrangement
anytime and money would be returned to him, less whatever hiring charges already paid to
him. That simple! So, Cheng received six thousand each month for the ten machines he had
paid up fully.
Cheng received his money regularly for a few months, and then it stopped. Altogether, he had
received thirty six thousand Yuan. After that, he could not contact Mandy on the phone.
Cheng became suspicious, but still felt confident that Mandy's company, such a big
60

corporation, would pay him soon. But to his dismay, Mandy could not be found. The business
lounge appeared to have vaporized. Cheng's life had turned to shreds. He could not sleep
well. His mind was somewhat affected, and had been having hallucinatory dreams.
As he rode on his motorbike, he cursed every pedestrian that blocked his way, and every
other motor vehicle that moved too slowly in front of him. He still must work, and he worked
in his own factory with his wife and her mother, continuing to produce a few electrical
switches for sale. Life was difficult and harsh for him, but he would persevere. As he reached
the factory in Tiger's Gate, he parked his motorbike on the roadside. He spat on the floor,
banged the door close, climbed a few flight of stairs, and joined his wife and sister in their
manufacturing work. It would be another long day and night, toiling in the factory, just to eke
out a living. But it was a decent living!

61