CHAPTER 4 It was a regrettable phenomenon that when people when to pay their last respects to the dead, there

were invariably those who found it fitting to gossip among themselves as if it were joyous occasion. Siti sat solemnly in the living room, trying to restrain her little brother from scampering about. At one corner of house, Puan Normala, the village gossip, was gathering a group of women to her side. Sure enough, a few minutes later, gasps and murmurs escaped from the mass. Siti's ears picked up only a couple of words but she was sure they were talking about Madhuri. The house still smelled of burnt gaharu even though the body had already been taken away. She had seen only glimpses of the shrouded body and the coffin on their way out. She had to look away. She had never really got to know Madhuri. Madhuri had given her Quran lessons when she was six or seven but they were never close. Siti wondered why. Madhuri had always been sweet and likeable but there was this inaccessibility about the woman. Or maybe it was she who inaccessible, Siti though. She shrugged to herself as she tugged at her baby brother's arm to keep him from putting his slipper into his mouth. For a moment, the hiss and whispering from Puan Normala's corner stopped abruptly. Siti nudged away her brother's head from her view to see what had caused a sudden hush. Out in the front, flanked by a robust woman and an edgy-looking man, a girl of about twenty came up the steps. She looked around hesitantly. Her eyes behind her glasses glared out rather angrily at the group of woman near Puan Normala. Then without a word, the girl pushed forward her heavy bag and stormed past the living room. Siti raised a brow. She recognised the girl. It was Azreen Saleh. Madhuri's younger sister. "I told you," said Puan Normala as Azreen Saleh disappeared into the back of the house, "that girl's nothing but trouble. Look what she just did - walking in without greeting us. How disrespectful. No wonder her parents send her away." "Very rude," replied one of her confidantes. "Never had

much manners to begin with. Remember the last time when she beat up Minah's daugther..." But she interrupted by the other woman. "I think she's just angry with her parents." "Of course she is," Puan Normala said. Her bony fingers crumpled her scarf in fits of excitement. "They didn't even wait for her to return taking he body over to the mosque." "Poor girl. She didn't even get to see her sister for the last time." "Bah," said Puan Normala. "It's not as if she and Madhuri were on speaking terms anyway." "What do you mean?" "Don't you know? Azreen hates her sister so much that she refused to even write to her. Can you imagine being so vengeful to your own familt? I tell you, she's hateful and ungrateful child. And not a drop of remorse about what happened to her mother. I knew she would grow up to be like that. She was such an ugly little baby." A few minutes later, Puan Normala excused herself from the group of huddled women. She had some house chores to attend to. "Do you suppose it's true what she saw?" one of the ladies asked the others. "I mean, Normala couldn't possibly have seen the body, could she? Madhuri's blood couldn't have been white, could it?" Her voice was shaking and she looked nervously around. "I don't know. Do you think it could be a sign or something?" "I think the less we talk about it the better." The others nodded in agreement. But everyone knew that it would be the only thing they would be talking about for the next few days or until something juicier came along. ******************************** Datin Sharifah sighed loudly and shook her head. Her lips were thin lines and her brow furrowed deeply as she entered Azreen's bedroom. It was empty saved for a mattress, a chair and a few boxes of clothes. Azreen looked up from her bag and smiled weakly.

How brave she was, thought Datin Sharifah to herself. Really, this was no room for a girl. But of course, Azreen had been away for so long that her father probably thought it best to just leave the room bare. They would have to fill it with more furniture and spruce it up a bit know that Azreen was back - though only for a new weeks. Datin Sharifah nodded to herself as she thought about the things she could get for the poor child. "Now," she said,"do you want to go over to the burial grounds? We can still make it before . . ." her voice trailed off. Azreen did not reply. Instead, she stared directly into the older woman's eyes and said, "Mak Cik, please tell the truth. How did . . . how did she die?" Datin Sharifah's hand moved in a flurry as she dusted the chair. "I don't think it's up to me to tell you that, my dear." "You must tell me," the girl said, her voice pleading. "Nobody else would. Datin Sharifah shrugged and sat down on the chair. Her fingers tapped in a frenzied manner on her lap. "But my dear, nobody bothered telling me in detail either. Everything was so hush-hush. Well at least from your family's side, my dear. It's all so bad. Your poor sister . . ." "I'm sure you know something," Azreen insisted. "Yes, on the grapevine. But you know you cannot believe everything you hear on the grapevine. Especially that rotten durian neighbour of yours - that terrible woman Normala. When Pak Cik and I arrived this morning, she literally jumped in front us and growled like some rabid dog. Can you believe that?" "Oh yes I can," replied Azreen. "What did she say?" Datin Sharifah scratched her neck in discomfort. She sighed. "Well, we should go home and save ourselves." "Save yourselves?" "Yes, apparently we're all cursed. Everyone on the island. Stupid superstitious woman. She said . . . she claimed that Madhuri had been murdered and that she had put a curse on us beffore she died." Azreen strode to the window and looked out so that Datin Sharifah could not see her face. She could see the front yard. A group of women stood chaterring near the woodpile. Their distinct voices drifted to her. How she detested them.

"They found her at the rubber estate," Datin Sharifah continued, her voice low wnd cautious. She did not want to upset the girl too much. "She had been missing for a few hours and her husband was getting worried. He went to look for her with a few of his friends and that was when they found her." "How did she die?" Azreen's voiced sounded far away. When Datin Sharifah did not answer, she turned around and approached the chair. Datin Sharifah sighed. "I don't know." "But you must know!" "My dear, please understand. They did not tell us anything. But I don't blame them. To them, we're outsiders." "By 'them', you mean my father," said Azreen sharply. Datin Sharifah grabbed the girl's hand to try to soothe her. Azreen instinctively pulled it back. "He did this on purpose," she said. "He's pushing you aside like you don't mean anything to me. And Madhuri's body...he knew I would be back today and he refused to let me have anything to do with it. Why do you think he took her body away so early? Why? I'll tell you why. He did it to spite me. He wouldn't let me see her off. He..." "My dear!" Datin Sharifah cut in. "You father wouldn't do that." "You don't know him." Azreen went back to the window and her hand gripped the window pane tightly. "You don't know him at all." ********************************** Siti gave her baby brother some sweets to keep him quiet. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. She had been involved in the preparation in the morning and had been busy helping out their neighbour while Siti was left to take care of her siblings. Azreen Saleh's sudden appearance and equally sudden departure had made her pause and think how different the two Saleh sisters were. Even Siti's parents had forbade her from befriending Azreen Saleh when they were in school, never mind the fact that Azreen was four years her senior and they moved in quite different social circles. Azreen, according to them, was a troublemaker. But whenever Siti met the girl, she saw nothing of the devil that adults claimed her to be. Yes, she

could at times be spiteful and bad-tempered when dealing with people she could not stand, but Siti's opinion, those at the receiving end usually deserved it. Like Puan Normala and the gossiping horde. Under the circumstances a few minutes ago, Azreen's reaction had been quite restrained. And that robust woman, ran Siti's train of thought, must be Azreen's aunt. What was the name now? Some Datin or Puan Sri. Her clothes were very modern and looked expensive. The husband seemed very out of place and had been fidgeting out in the front yard, trying to scrape cow dung from his leather shoes. They weren't actually her real relatives. Azreen had been sent to stay with them in their house in Penang a few years ago. There was an exchange programme in school and Azreen, being a top student, was chosen to go. Azreen got along well with her foster parents, so well that their relationship continued even after the two-month programme ended. Datin Sharifah and her husband would visit Azreen and her family in Langkawi often. Then two years ao, they even sponsored her studies overseas. In fact, they treated the girl very much like their own daughter. Siti sighed. She wondered if she could be as lucky to futher her studies. Her father had treathened to marry her off to that annoying pimply-faced son of Pak Huzaimi who sold vegetables at the market. She would have to ask nice teacher at her school to convince her father to let her at least take her SPM next year. She sighed again as her younger brothers started brawling with each other over a rattan ball. It was a hopeless case. She was stuck in this backward village where nothing interesting ever happened. Unless you took into account Puan Normala's version of what happened to poor Madhuri, of course. Silently, Siti wondered if there was any truth in it at all. *********************************** The woman on the rocking chair moved ever so slightly as the door to her bedroom inched open. "Madhuri, is that you?" Azreen stepped into the darkened room and shut door behind her. The woman turned her head an blinked.

"Madhuri?" "No, Mak, it's me." The woman's forehead creased as as she stared at Azreen in confusion. "You're..." Azreen bit her lip. She moved slowly towards her mother. "I'm Azreen, Mak." Her mother nodded. Then she held out a hand that Azreen took and kissed. Azreen scrutinised her mother's face in the dim light. Wrinkles had crept up around her eyes and mouth. The ones on her high forehead had deepened since the last time Azreen saw her. The crack of light from the window reflected the vacant eyes and the skelatal figure. A protruding scar ran down her left cheek. "Have you come to sell us some fruit?" said the woman suddenly. "I told Huzaimi we don't need any papayas." Azreen felt her legs go limp. "No, Mak. I'm Azreen, your daughter. I'm home from London." A frail hand reached for her. "Azreen?" "Yes, Mak. It's me," she said. She swallowed. What was the disease done to you, Mak? The woman did not catch the trembling voice of the girl standing in front of her. She smiled broadly. "Oh, you're home you're home!" She patted Azreen's hand. "I missed you. We must celebrate. Tell...tell your sister Madhuri to prepare a big lunch. We must celebrate." Azreen closed her eyes. "Madhuri..." she started quietly. "Did Abah tell you what happened to Madhuri?" The woman blinked hard to remember. "Madhuri? Oh, yes, I remember. It's her wedding today." "No, Mak. That was two years ago," Azreen snapped. She caught herself and took a deep breath. "Why didn't Abah take you along to burial ground?" "Burial ground? What was he doing there?" Azreen clenched her hand. "Come, Mak. Let's go." Her mother flustered and fumbled as Azreen helped her up and put her into her wheelchair. "Where are we going, Madhuri?" she asked Azreen when they made their way past the crowd in the living room. "Are we going to see the doctor again? I don't want to go, Madhuri. Please don't make me go." Azreen did not reply.

*********************************** It was as if the trees were crying that day at the funeral. The brown leaves floated down and curled up lifelessly on the ground. The sky was overcast, threatening rain. A soft smell of jasmine lingered in the air. The metal wheels of the chair crumpled the dry leaves as they moved towards the site. A couple of heads turned as their arrival. Saleh Abdullah straightened up. His broad back was to them but they knew that he had heard them. "Abah," came Azreen's voice, strong and loud, almost defiant. Her father halh-turned his head but said nothing. His hard profile was outlined by the dim sunlight that filtered in through the trees. Her mother twisted in her chair. "Azreen? Why are we here? Where's your father? You said we'll meet him here." Saleh Abdullah then spoke. "Take her home." His voice was low, like a faraway thunder. "Saleh, oh, you're there. I didn't see you. Why are we here?" Azreen's hand rested gently on her mother's shoulder. "We're here to see Madhuri, Mak." "What? But Madhuri's back home with Ghani. She's not here." Saleh turned around fully and glared at both mother and daughter. "I said, take her home. Now." His face was as black as they heavy clouds above. Someone moved behind Azreen. It was Datin Sharifah. "I'll take her home," she whispered. "No, Mak Cik. She will stay." Her aunt blinked in confusion. A man came forward and rested his hand on Saleh's arm. "Come, let's not fight here." "Stay out of this, Ghani." Saleh took a couple of angry strides towards his daughter. But before he could reach Azreen, Haji Ghani moved in to block his way. Datin Sharifah took the chance to quickly manoeuvre the wheelchair out of the incoming battle. "I'll take your mother home, Azreen. And I think it's also a good idea if we all leave as well." Azreen let go of her mother. But she stood stubbornly still. Her father eyed her stonily as the others left the grounds.

Then he returned to his position and paid no futher attention to her daughter. Haji Ghani sighed inwardly. Another disaster averted. He nodded at his sister-in-law who remained rooted to her spot a few feet away. She did not even bother to nod back. He sighed again, his wrinkles deepening in melancholy. She was so unlike her sister. Ah, Madhuri, how I'd miss you, his heart crushed at the remembrance. He whispered to himself a little prayer and returned to his own spot to pay his last respects to his beloved wife. There was a sudden waft of jasmine. How it reminded him of Madhuri; how she loved to put the flowers on her silky black hair; and how she would laugh when they fell gently on her lashes. ************************************ It was not until late evening that they left the burial ground. A lone shadow treaded lightly up to the stone and sat down. Azreen stared blindly at the place where her sister was buried. Her hands were cold - as cold as her heart. Why couldn't she feel anything? She had shed no tear, felt no sorrow for the loss. Only numbness. And she hated herself for it. Footsteps feel behind her. She looked up. A young man stood half-hidden by a tree. Even in the darkness, she could recognise his silhouette. After two years away from home, she could still remember his face so clearly. He gave her a weak smile. He did not make any sound or movement. Azreen turned back to the mound and said a prayer. When she turned back, he was gone. She stood up, dusted away the soil from her clothes and left the cemetery. Across the road she could make out his figure on the low fence. It was he who spoke first."How are your studies?" "I'm doing well." She took seat next to him on the wooden fence. "And you?" "I'm all right, I suppose. Why aren't you at the village hall for the kenduri arwah?" Azreen shrugged but said nothing. They spoke for a few minutes on meaningless things. The real subject that was on both their minds was left untouched.

"It's late. We'd better leave now." He left her by the junction where the broken road sign read 'Jalan Putri'. Azreen watched quietly as he walked away. Always, no matter how long it had been, always she felt a sense of loss whenever she saw him. And there was only one person who could cause such emotional damage to her. Madhuri! *********************************** Azreen had been thirteen when she met Mohd Asraf. He was two years older and was prefect in their school. He was smart and handsome and would always give her big friendly smile each time they met in their editorial club meetings. But that was all he did. She doubted he even remembered her name. Until one day. She was sitting on the stone steps of the empty school hall with a thick storybook on her lap all alone because her girlfriends had gone to field to watch the boys play football. She did not feel like joining them. It was not because she hated football; it was because she rather be in the playing field than on the spectator's bench. And besides, she just couldn't put the storybook down. Suddenly, a shadow fell upon her book and when she glanced up, she saw Mohd Asraf grinning at her from the top of the stairs. "Hi," he said. She slapped her book sshut and murmured, "Hello." "You're Azreen right? Why aren't you at the field?" he asked as he sat down beside her. "Um, I need to finish this book." Then when he did not speak, she added as an afterthought, "Why aren't you there either? I thought you were in the team." No sooner hadd she said it than she wished she had bitten her tongue. "How did you know I was in the team?" he said, his eyes boring into her. Azreen felt her cheeks burn under his gaze. "A friend told me." How could she not know? All the other girls in class were infatuated with him and he was all they talked about during recess. "I see." He lifted his left food. "I have myself to blame," he explained. "I twisted my leg yesterday when I got down from the school bus. I must have been too excited about the game and literally leapt from the top of the steps. And tripped." He

did an instant replay of the scene, pretended to wince in agony and hopped around the hall on one leg. Azreen laughed. He grinned and sat down again. Suddenly he said, "I saw you playing hockey with Leela and her friends that day. You were really good." "Thanks." "Look, the guys and I are planning to have a little hockey match next Friday and my friend, Hock Seng, can't make it. Would you like to play?" "You mean..." Azreen was too shocked to go on. " Would you like to replace Hock Seng? He won't mind. Neither will the guys. They'll be really impressed when they see you play." He gazed at her earnestly. "And you'll be playing too?" asked Azreen. "I mean, with your injury..." "It'll heal by next week. So is it a yes?" She let out a laugh. "Yes. I would love to." "Okay then!" He jumped up. His injuried foot did not seem hurt any more. "See you next Friday, right after school. We're going to bulldoze the opponent!" They did indeed bulldoze the opponent. The other boys were at first sceptical about the bookish bestpectacled girl with the fiery personality. But she put an great show, even scored a few points for their team. They tipped their sweaty hats to her and the boys by the end of the semester. Girls in her class began to cast suspicious eyes in her direction. What was wrong with that girl who behave so unladylike, laughing like a bunch of hyenas with the boys' hockey team, and was always hanging out with Asraf after class? The girls could not decide whether to be disgusted or jealous of her. "You know," said Asraf to her one day as they were walking home from school, "I don't think I've met anyone like you before. You're so different." Azreen made a face at him. "What do you mean? And you'd better come up with a good answer or this hockey stick will end up somewhere between your ears!" He grinned as he moved instinctively away from her. "Cool down, will you? Ionly meant that I've never met anyone who is so nerdy and ganas at the same time." "Ganas?" cried Azreen, raising her stick. "I'm not aggressive!"

Her friend burst out in uncontrollable laughter. "Right, you proved your point." Azreen stuck out her tongue at him. When he was done laughing, he said, "But seriously, you're good in your studies and you're brilliant in the field as well. It's hard to be good at both. I know I'm barely keeping it together." "But you're well-liked. People swarm around you like flies to a garbage can. Like maggots to rotten meat." "Thank you for those flattering words." Azreen's smile faded a little. She tapped her hockey stick on a rock absent-mindedly. "It's not easy to be like that. Socially accepted, I mean. Look at me. Everyone hates me." "Not everyone," Asraf said. "The hockey guys like you." "They probably think I'm weird." "Well, I like you," said Asraf with a shrug. "But then again, I have a fascination for weird stuff." Once again the hockey stick rose threateningly. He scuttled away with a chuckle. "Goodbye, weird friend. See you in school tomorrow." The broken road sign creaked as Azreen walked up the stone steps were overgrown with lalang and a few metres away, the jungle loomed. Soon, passed a bend on the pathway and the growth cleared, and the land stretched modestly towards the half-wooden, half-concrete house that stood slightly away from the rest of the village. ********************************* The house was darjk but a dim light from a lantern flickered from a window. The villagers had all left. The front yard was empty. Mak Cik Sharifah must have left. She had mentioned that they would be staying at a hotel in Kuah on the main island. Azreen almost wished she could leave with them. But she could not-must not-run away again. Not this time. She must gather her strenght and face this. She pulled off her headscarf as she climbed up the steps to the house. Her father was not around. He was probably still at the kenduri arwah. She peeked through the bedroom door and saw her mother fast asleep, curled up like a kitten with a curious smile on her face. Azreen shut the door quietly. She

busied herself unpacking her bag in the near-empty room. She arranged the mattress on the floor and smiled gratefully when she found two tiny throw pillows that Mak Cik Sharifah had left her. They had to be the ones she saw on the backseat of their car. The thoughtful duo also left her two bottles of water, bananas and oranges in a basket and a bag of disposable toiletries. She opened the window to let in the night air. Crickets cried loudly from the back of the house. There was a slight whiff of smoke from shrubbery. She was about to turn away from the window when a sudden movement outside caught her eye. A dark shape fleeted across the gate and disappeared down the pathway. For a moment, she thought it looked like a woman with streaming black hair. Madhuri? No, that was impossible. So who or what could it have been? She strained her eyes to see. But it was gone. From a distance, she heard the soft cry of a hungry cat. Her hands grabbed the shutters and slammed the window shut. She jumped onto the mattress, grabbed a pillow and buried her head underneath. For now, she wanted to forget that she was home. Let her deal with it tomorrow morning. ************************************* "Siti, aren't you coming in to sleep yet?" "Yes, Mak, but I need to finish up the last few chapter first," called Siti from the veranda where sha sat with her textbook open on her lap, but her eyes were wandering past the street in front. She had been sitting there studying ever since she could escape the house chores. It was difficult to study under such circumstances. Her baby brother was still wailing his lungs out from the bedroom. The veranda was her refuge. But out here was yet another kind of distraction. She had seen Mohd Asraf walk by earlier with someone, possibly Azreen, but it was too dark to tell for sure. Funny, she never knew they were close. He had just started as a trainee teacher at her school the year before and she had heard that some of her classmates had written secret love letters to him. She was not surprised, of course. He was tall man with thick curly hair, very dashing and charming but he hardly impressed Siti. He

was too attractive for his own good. Girls fell for him left and right, only to have their hearts broken because he only had eyes for one. Siti chuckled to herself. Since when did she becomes so jaded and cynical? Oh, forget about them. She should be studying, not making character judgements. Siti bit the end of her pencil in thought. Poor Azreen. She must feel terrible losing her sister. How different from Madhuri she was. Ah, Madhuri, the enigma. What was it with Madhuri that made people like her? Her husband doted on her. He would buy her jewels and beautiful expensive clothes and take her on long vacations. Ah, to capture the heart of a rich village headman! He was a bit old for Madhuri and already had a wife of many years but he was a respectable man. Siti wondered if she herself would ever accept being a man's second wife. No, she decided that she would be too possessive to share! Siti laughed at herself again. Enough of day dreaming! Back to work! *********************************** Haji Ghani's first wife got out of bed and marched purposefully to the adjoining room. Her husband was still flipping throug the photo album of his wedding two years ago. SHe could see him fingering the enlarged photo of Madhuri's smiling face. "Abang," said Puan Fatihah "don't you want to come to bed?" Her husband shrugged slowly and gave her no reply. Puan Fatihah bit back her rage and managed another query, "You'll be all right? Don't you need a rest already?" Haji Ghani shook his head. "I'll come in later." Puan Fatihah stepped back and closed the door. Her legs brought her to the living room where a few framed photos of Madhuri graced the wall. She almost grabbed one and threw it out of the window . Instead, she took down the olive-coloured curtains that Madhuri had bought herself and put at their home. Yes, their home! She rued the day that girl grew up and came into their lives. Madhuri had dominated their home and ruined Puan Fatihah's peaceful existence with her husband. Puan Fatihah detested that girl, and hated her husband for his weakness. And she despised herself for giving in to him when he asked for her permission to take Maadhuri as his ssecond

wife. Pua Fatihah dragged the curtains to the room where her husband kept all his precious possessions. The room was filled with carvings and carpets imported from the Middle East, drapes with images of the Kaabah, wooden statues from Indonesia and traditional instruments from the Malay sultanate eras. Puan Fatihah walked over to a glass cabinet and carefully removed valuable keris that was on display. With a smile, she ran the wavy-bladed dagger viciously through the thin cloth. Perhaps scissors would do the job better but at least Puan Fatihah could feel the satisfaction of the keris tearing jaggedly through the fabric. She threw the torn pieces into the dustbin before going back to bed, feeling much better than she did half an hour ago.

THE CURSE BAB 4 Adalah satu fenomena yang amat dikesali apabila kita memberikan penghormatan yang terakhir kepada si mati, selalunya ada segelintir orang yang mendapati saat tersebut adalah peluang yang untuk bergosip sesama sendiri seolah-olah ia adalah satu sambutan yang amat meriah. Siti duduk dengan serius di ruang tamu, cuba untuk menghalang adik lelakinya dari berlari-lari. Di suatu sudut rumah pula, Puan Normala, penyebar gosip,mengumpul sekumpulan wanita untuk mendengar kisah gossipnya. Pasti cukup, beberapa minit kemudian,Telinga Siti mengambil hanya beberapa perkataan tetapi dia pasti mereka bercakap tentang Madhuri. Rumah itu masih lagi berbau gaharu yang dibakar walaupun badan itu telah diambil. Dia sempat melihat imbasan badan yang diselubungi dan keranda dalam perjalanan mereka keluar dari rumah sebentar tadi. Dia terpaksa mencari diri. Dia tidak pernah benar-benar mengenali Madhuri. Setahu dia, Madhuri telah diberi pelajaran Al-Quran ketika dia berusia enam atau tujuh tetapi mereka tidak pernah rapat. Siti tertanya-tanya mengapa. Madhuri seorang gadis yang manis dan disukai tetapi ada ini tidak berjaya mengenai wanita. Atau mungkin ia adalah dia yang tidak boleh diakses, Siti walaupun. Dia mengangkat dirinya sebagai dia tugged di lengan abang bayinya untuk menahannya daripada meletakkan selipar ke dalam mulutnya. Untuk seketika, desis dan berbisik dari sudut Puan Normala berhenti tiba-tiba. Siti menghalakan kepala abangnya dari pandangan beliau untuk melihat apa yang telah menyebabkan diam tiba-tiba. Daripada di hadapan, diapit oleh seorang wanita yang teguh dan seorang yang berpandangan Edgy, gadis kira-kira dua puluh datang langkah. Dia melihat sekeliling teragak-agak. Matanya di sebalik kaca mata beliau glared agak marah

pada kumpulan wanita berhampiran Puan Normala. Kemudian tanpa perkataan, gadis itu menolak ke hadapan beg berat dan menyerbu lalu ruang tamu. Siti dibangkitkan dahi. Beliau diiktiraf gadis itu. Ia adalah Azreen Saleh. Madhuri adik. "Saya memberitahu anda," kata Puan Normala sebagai Azreen Saleh hilang ke belakang rumah, "apa-apa bahawa gadis itu tetapi masalah Lihatlah apa yang dia hanya lakukan - berjalan dalam tanpa ucapan kita Bagaimana menghormati Tidak hairanlah ibu bapanya menghantar beliau jauh... " "Sangat biadap," jawab salah confidantes beliau. "Jangan sekali-kali mempunyai adab yang banyak untuk bermula dengan. Ingat masa lepas apabila beliau menewaskan daugther Minah ..." Tetapi dia diganggu oleh wanita lain. "Saya fikir dia hanya marah dengan ibu bapanya." "Sudah tentu dia," Puan Normala berkata. Jari bertulang beliau renyuk selendang beliau dalam sesuai keseronokan. "Mereka tidak walaupun menunggu untuk dia kembali mengambil badan dia ke masjid." "Gadis miskin. Dia tidak dapat melihat kakaknya buat kali terakhir." "Bah," kata Puan Normala. "Ia bukan seolah-olah dia dan Madhuri adalah atas terma bercakap juga." "Apa yang kamu maksudkan?" "Jangan anda tahu? Azreen membenci kakaknya sehinggakan dia enggan malah menulis kepada beliau. Bolehkah anda bayangkan yang begitu berdendam kepada familt anda sendiri? Saya beritahu anda, dia anak kebencian dan bersyukur. Dan tidak setitik penyesalan tentang apa yang berlaku kepada ibunya. Saya tahu dia akan membesar sehingga menjadi seperti itu. Dia seperti seorang bayi sedikit hodoh. " Beberapa minit kemudian, Puan Normala meminta diri dari kumpulan wanita berkumpul. Beliau mempunyai beberapa kerja-kerja rumah untuk menghadiri. "Adakah anda rasa ia benar apa yang dia nampak?" salah seorang daripada wanita bertanya kepada yang lain. "Maksud saya, Normala tidak dapat mungkin telah melihat badan, boleh dia? Darah Madhuri tidak dapat telah putih, boleh?" Suaranya bergoncang dan dia kelihatan cemas sekeliling. "Saya tidak tahu. Adakah anda fikir ia boleh menjadi tanda atau sesuatu?" "Saya fikir kurang kita bercakap tentang ia lebih baik." Yang lain mengangguk dalam perjanjian. Tetapi semua orang tahu bahawa ia akan menjadi satu-satunya perkara mereka akan bercakap tentang untuk beberapa hari akan datang atau sehingga sesuatu juicier datang bersama-sama. ********************************

Datin Sharifah mengeluh kuat dan menggeleng-gelengkan kepalanya. Bibirnya garisan nipis dan dahinya terkerut secara mendalam kerana dia memasuki bilik tidur Azreen. Ia telah kosong disimpan untuk tilam, kerusi dan beberapa kotak pakaian. Azreen memandang dari begnya dan tersenyum lemah. Bagaimana dia berani, fikir Datin Sharifah kepada dirinya. Betul, ini adalah tiada ruang

untuk perempuan. Tetapi tentu saja, Azreen telah jauh untuk begitu lama bahawa ayahnya mungkin fikir ia terbaik untuk hanya meninggalkan bilik kosong. Mereka akan perlu mengisi dengan perabot yang lebih banyak dan merapikan sehingga ia sedikit tahu bahawa Azreen telah kembali - walaupun hanya untuk minggu baru. Datin Sharifah mengangguk kepada dirinya kerana dia berfikir tentang perkara yang dia boleh mendapatkan untuk kanak-kanak miskin. "Sekarang," kata beliau, "adakah anda mahu pergi ke tanah perkuburan? Kita masih boleh membuat sebelum ..." suaranya ketinggalan dimatikan. Azreen tidak menjawab. Sebaliknya, dia terus merenung ke dalam mata wanita tua itu dan berkata, "Mak Cik, sila beritahu kebenaran. Bagaimana ... bagaimana dia mati?" Tangan Datin Sharifah bergerak dalam keadaan tergesa-gesa kerana dia dusted kerusi. "Saya tidak fikir ia terpulang kepada saya untuk memberitahu anda bahawa, sayang saya." "Anda mesti memberitahu saya," gadis itu berkata, suaranya merayu. "Tiada siapa yang lain akan. Datin Sharifah mengangkat bahu dan duduk di atas kerusi. Jarinya ditoreh dalam cara yang penuh kegilaan di atas pangkuannya. "Tetapi sayangku, tiada siapa yang peduli memberitahu saya secara terperinci sama ada. Everything was jadi diam-diam. Well sekurang-kurangnya dari pihak keluarga anda, sayang saya. Ia adalah semua begitu buruk. Kakak miskin ..." "Saya pasti anda tahu sesuatu," Azreen berkeras. "Ya, khabar-khabar angin Tetapi anda tahu anda tidak boleh percaya semua yang anda mendengar khabar-khabar angin Terutamanya bahawa jiran busuk durian kamu -... Bahawa Normala wanita dahsyat Apabila Pak Cik dan saya tiba pagi ini, dia benar-benar melonjak di hadapan kita dan menderam seperti anjing beberapa fanatik. Bolehkah anda percaya bahawa? " "Oh ya, saya boleh," jawab Azreen. "Apa yang dia katakan?" Datin Sharifah tercalar lehernya dalam ketidakselesaan. Dia mengeluh. "Nah, kita harus pulang ke rumah dan menyelamatkan diri kita." "Peliharalah diri kamu?" "Ya, nampaknya kita semua dikutuk. Semua orang di pulau itu. Wanita karut bodoh. Beliau berkata ... dia mendakwa bahawa Madhuri telah dibunuh dan bahawa dia telah meletakkan satu sumpahan kepada kami beffore dia meninggal dunia." Azreen berkawad diiringi tingkap dan memandang keluar supaya Datin Sharifah tidak dapat melihat wajahnya. Dia boleh melihat halaman depan. Satu kumpulan wanita berdiri chaterring berhampiran tindanan kayu itu. Suara yang berbeza mereka hanyut kepada beliau. Bagaimana dia dibenci mereka. "Mereka mendapati beliau di ladang getah," Datin Sharifah diteruskan, suaranya rendah berkhidmat tetapi berhati-hati. Dia tidak mahu mengganggu gadis itu terlalu banyak. "Dia telah hilang selama beberapa jam dan suaminya semakin bimbang. Dia pergi untuk mencari beliau dengan beberapa kawan-kawannya dan bahawa adalah apabila mereka mendapati beliau." "Bagaimana dia boleh mati?" Azreen menyuarakan dibunyikan jauh. Apabila Datin Sharifah tidak menjawab, dia berpaling dan menghampiri kerusi. Datin Sharifah mengeluh. "Saya tidak tahu." "Tetapi anda mesti tahu!" "Abang, sila faham. Mereka tidak memberitahu kita apa-apa. Tetapi saya tidak menyalahkan mereka. Bagi mereka, kami orang luar." "Dengan 'mereka', anda maksudkan bapa saya," kata Azreen mendadak. Datin Sharifah menyambar tangan gadis itu cuba untuk menenangkan beliau. Azreen naluri ditarik kembali. "Dia melakukan ini dengan sengaja," katanya. "Dia menolak anda mengetepikan seperti anda tidak bermakna apa-apa kepada saya. Dan Madhuri badan ... dia tahu saya akan kembali hari ini dan beliau enggan untuk membenarkan saya mempunyai apa-apa kaitan dengan ia. Mengapa anda berfikir dia mengambil badannya jauh begitu awal? Mengapa? Saya akan memberitahu anda mengapa. Beliau melakukannya walaupun saya. Beliau tidak akan membiarkan saya melihat dia off. Beliau ... " "Sayang saya!" Datin Sharifah memotong masuk "Anda bapa tidak akan berbuat demikian." "Anda tidak tahu dia." Azreen pergi kembali ke tingkap dan tangannya mencengkam anak tetingkap tetingkap ketat. "Anda tidak tahu dia sama sekali."

********************************** Siti memberikan saudara bayi beberapa gula-gula untuk memastikan dia tenang. Ibunya adalah tempat untuk dilihat. Beliau telah terlibat dalam penyediaan pada waktu pagi dan telah sibuk membantu jiran mereka manakala Siti ditinggalkan untuk menjaga adikadiknya. Penampilan mengejut Azreen Saleh dan berlepas sama tiba-tiba telah membuat jeda beliau dan berfikir bagaimana berbeza dua Saleh beradik. Malah ibu bapa Siti telah melarang dia daripada berkawan Azreen Saleh apabila mereka berada di sekolah, tidak pernah pedulikan fakta bahawa Azreen adalah empat tahun kanan beliau dan mereka bergerak dalam bulatan sosial yang agak berbeza. Azreen, menurut mereka, adalah satu pengacau. Tetapi apabila Siti bertemu dengan gadis itu, dia melihat apa-apa syaitan bahawa orang dewasa mendakwa dia menjadi. Ya, dia pada masa-masa boleh menyakiti dan pemarah apabila berurusan dengan orang yang dia tidak boleh berdiri, tetapi pendapat Siti, mereka pada akhir penerima biasanya berhak. Seperti Puan Normala dan gerombolan mengumpat. Bawah keadaan beberapa minit lalu, reaksi Azreen telah agak dihalang. Dan bahawa wanita yang mantap, berlari keretapi Siti pemikiran, mesti makcik Azreen. Apakah nama sekarang? Sesetengah Datin atau Puan Sri. Bajunya sangat moden dan kelihatan mahal. Suami seolah-olah sangat keluar dari tempat dan telah fidgeting keluar di halaman depan, cuba untuk mengikis tahi lembu dari kasut kulit. Mereka tidak sebenarnya saudara sebenar. Azreen telah dihantar untuk tinggal bersama mereka di rumah mereka di Pulau Pinang beberapa tahun yang lalu. Terdapat program pertukaran di sekolah dan Azreen, menjadi pelajar terbaik, telah dipilih untuk pergi. Azreen mendapat bersama-sama dengan baik dengan ibu bapa angkatnya, begitu baik bahawa hubungan mereka berterusan walaupun selepas program dua bulan berakhir. Datin Sharifah dan suaminya akan melawat Azreen dan keluarganya di Langkawi sering. Kemudian dua tahun ao, mereka juga menaja pengajiannya di luar negara. Malah, mereka dirawat gadis itu sangat banyak seperti anak mereka sendiri. Siti mengeluh. Dia tertanya-tanya jika dia boleh menjadi sebagai bertuah untuk lanjut pelajarannya. Bapanya telah treathened untuk mengahwininya bahawa anak menjengkelkan berjerawat yang dihadapi Pak Huzaimi yang menjual sayur-sayuran di pasaran. Dia akan mempunyai untuk meminta guru baik di sekolah beliau untuk meyakinkan bapanya untuk membiarkan dia sekurang-kurangnya mengambil SPM tahun depan. Dia mengeluh lagi sebagai saudara adiknya mula brawling dengan satu sama lain melalui bola rotan. Ia adalah kes yang sia-sia. Beliau telah terperangkap dalam kampung ini mundur di mana tiada apa yang menarik pernah berlaku. Melainkan jika anda mengambil kira versi Puan Normala apa yang berlaku kepada miskin Madhuri, sudah tentu. Diam-diam, Siti tertanya-tanya jika terdapat mana-mana kebenaran dalam pada semua. *********************************** Wanita di atas kerusi goyang bergerak pernah jadi sedikit sebagai pintu ke bilik tidur beliau menambah terbuka. "Madhuri, adalah bahawa kau?" Azreen melangkah ke dalam bilik gelap dan menutup pintu di belakangnya. Wanita itu berpaling kepalanya blinked. "Madhuri?" "Tidak, Mak, ia adalah saya." Dahi wanita kucel sebagai kerana dia merenung Azreen dalam kekeliruan. "Awak ..." Azreen mengetap bibir. Beliau berpindah perlahan-lahan ke arah ibunya. "Saya Azreen, Mak." Ibunya mengangguk. Kemudian dia memegang tangan yang Azreen mengambil dan mencium. Azreen diteliti wajah ibunya dalam samar-samar cahaya. Kedutan telah menjalar sehingga di sekeliling mata dan mulut. Orang-orang di dahi yang tinggi beliau telah semakin meruncing sejak kali terakhir Azreen nampak dia. Retak cahaya dari tingkap mencerminkan mata kosong dan angka skelatal. Satu parut menonjol berlari pipi kirinya. "Pernahkah anda datang untuk menjual kita beberapa buah?" berkata wanita itu tiba-tiba. "Saya memberitahu Huzaimi kita tidak memerlukan sebarang betik." Azreen merasakan kakinya pergi lemah. "Tidak, Mak Saya Azreen, anak perempuan anda.

Saya pulang dari London." Satu tangan yang lemah mencapai untuknya. "Azreen?" "Ya, Mak Ia adalah saya," katanya. Dia ditelan. Apakah penyakit yang dilakukan untuk anda, Mak? Wanita tidak menangkap suara menggeletar gadis yang berdiri di hadapannya. Dia tersenyum lebar. "Oh, anda rumah anda ke rumah!" Dia menepuk tangan Azreen. "Saya terlepas anda. Kita mesti meraikan. Beritahu ... memberitahu Madhuri kakak anda untuk menyediakan makan tengah hari yang besar. Kita mesti meraikan." Azreen ditutup matanya. "Madhuri ..." dia mula secara senyap-senyap. "Adakah Abah memberitahu anda apa yang berlaku ke Madhuri?" Wanita itu blinked sukar untuk ingat. "Madhuri? Oh, ya, saya ingat. Ia adalah perkahwinan beliau hari ini." "Tidak, Mak. Itu adalah dua tahun lalu," terputus Azreen. Dia ditangkap dirinya dan mengambil nafas. "Mengapa tidak Abah membawa anda bersama-sama ke tanah perkuburan?" "Perkuburan tanah? Apa yang dia buat di sana?" Azreen tergenggam tangannya. "Marilah, Mak. Mari kita pergi." Ibunya flustered dan fumbled sebagai Azreen membantu beliau dan meletakkan dia ke kerusi rodanya. "Di mana kita pergi, Madhuri?" dia bertanya Azreen apabila mereka membuat cara mereka lalu orang ramai di ruang tamu. "Adakah kita akan berjumpa doktor sekali lagi saya tidak mahu pergi, Madhuri Tolong jangan membuat saya pergi." Azreen tidak menjawab. *********************************** Ia adalah seolah-olah pokok menangis hari itu di pengebumian. Daun coklat diapungkan ke bawah dan bergulung sehingga lifelessly di atas tanah. Langit mendung, mengancam hujan. Satu bau lembut melati tinggal di udara. Roda logam kerusi renyuk daun kering kerana mereka bergerak ke arah laman web ini. Beberapa kepala bertukar sebagai ketibaan mereka. Saleh Abdullah berdiri. Kembali luas beliau adalah untuk mereka tetapi mereka tahu bahawa dia telah mendengar mereka. "Abah," datang suara Azreen, kukuh dan kuat, hampir ingkar. Bapanya halh berpaling kepalanya tetapi berkata apa-apa. Profil keras beliau telah digariskan oleh cahaya matahari samar-samar yang ditapis melalui pokok-pokok. Ibunya dipintal di kerusi beliau. "Azreen? Mengapa kita di sini? Mana ayahmu? Anda berkata kita akan bertemu dengannya di sini." Saleh Abdullah kemudian bercakap. "Ambil rumahnya." Suaranya rendah, seperti guruh jauh. "Saleh, oh, anda di sana. Saya tidak melihat anda. Mengapa kita di sini?" Tangan Azreen berehat perlahan-lahan atas bahu ibunya. "Kami di sini untuk melihat Madhuri, Mak." "Apa? Tetapi pulang Madhuri dengan Ghani. Dia tiada di sini." Saleh pulih sepenuhnya dan glared pada kedua-dua ibu dan anak perempuan. "Saya berkata, mengambil rumahnya. Diutamakan." Mukanya seperti hitam kerana mereka awan tebal yang berat di atas. Seseorang bergerak ke belakang Azreen. Ia adalah Datin Sharifah. "Saya akan mengambil rumahnya," bisiknya. "Tidak, Mak Cik. Beliau akan kekal." Makcik beliau blinked dalam kekeliruan. Seorang lelaki tampil ke hadapan dan berehat tangannya pada lengan Saleh. "Marilah, mari kita tidak mahu berperang di sini." "Tinggal daripada ini, Ghani." Saleh mengambil beberapa langkah marah ke arah anak perempuannya. Tetapi sebelum dia boleh mencapai Azreen, Haji Ghani berpindah masuk untuk menyekat cara beliau. Datin Sharifah mengambil peluang untuk bergerak cepat kerusi roda keluar pertempuran masuk. "Saya akan mengambil rumah ibu anda, Azreen. Dan saya fikir ia juga merupakan idea yang baik jika kita semua meninggalkan juga." Azreen mari pergi ibunya. Tetapi dia berdiri masih berdegil. Bapanya bermata beliau stonily seperti yang lain meninggalkan alasan. Kemudian dia kembali kepada kedudukan beliau dan dibayar tidak perhatian lanjut kepada anak perempuannya.

Haji Ghani mengeluh dalaman. Bencana lain dielakkan. Dia mengangguk pada kakaknya dalam undang-undang yang kekal berakar umbi ke tempat beliau beberapa kaki jauhnya. Dia tidak pun mengganggu mengangguk kembali. Dia mengeluh lagi, kedutan meruncing dalam melankolik. Dia begitu tidak seperti kakaknya. Ah, Madhuri, bagaimana saya terlepas anda, hatinya dihancurkan di berzikir. Dia berbisik kepada dirinya doa sedikit dan kembali ke tempat sendiri untuk memberi penghormatan terakhir kepada isteri tercinta beliau. Terdapat menghembus secara tiba-tiba melati. Bagaimana ia mengingatkan beliau Madhuri; bagaimana dia suka untuk meletakkan bunga pada rambut seperti sutera hitam itu; dan bagaimana dia akan ketawa apabila mereka jatuh perlahan-lahan pada sebatan. ************************************ Ia bukan sehingga lewat petang bahawa mereka meninggalkan tanah perkuburan. Satu bayangan tunggal treaded ringan sehingga batu dan duduk. Azreen merenung secara membuta tuli di tempat di mana kakaknya dikebumikan. Tangannya sejuk sebagai sejuk sebagai hatinya. Mengapa tidak boleh dia berasa apa-apa? Beliau telah menumpahkan air mata tidak, merasakan kesedihan tidak kerugian. Kebas sahaja. Dan dia membenci dirinya untuk ia. Footsteps berasa belakangnya. Dia melihat ke atas. Seorang lelaki muda berdiri separuh tersembunyi oleh pokok. Bahkan di dalam kegelapan, dia boleh mengenali bayang beliau. Selepas dua tahun dari rumah, dia masih boleh ingat wajahnya begitu jelas. Dia memberikan senyuman yang lemah. Dia tidak membuat sebarang bunyi atau pergerakan. Azreen berpaling kepada bukit itu dan berkata doa. Apabila dia berpaling, dia telah hilang. Dia berdiri, dusted tanah dari bajunya dan meninggalkan tanah perkuburan. Di seberang jalan, dia boleh membuat keluar angka beliau di atas pagar yang rendah. Beliaulah yang berkata dahulu. "Bagaimana kajian anda?" "Saya melakukan dengan baik." Dia mengambil tempat duduk sebelah dia atas pagar kayu. "Dan kamu?" "Saya semua betul, saya rasa. Mengapa tidak anda di dewan kampung untuk arwah kenduri?" Azreen mengangkat bahu tetapi berkata apa-apa. Mereka bercakap selama beberapa minit pada perkara yang sia-sia. Subjek yang sebenar yang berada di kedua-dua minda mereka dibiarkan tidak disentuh. "Ia lewat. Kita sebaiknya meninggalkan sekarang." Beliau meninggalkan beliau dengan persimpangan di mana tanda jalan rosak membaca 'Jalan Putri'. Azreen menonton secara senyap-senyap kerana dia berjalan. Sentiasa, tidak kira berapa lama ia telah, sentiasa dia merasakan rasa kehilangan apabila dia melihat dia. Dan hanya ada satu orang yang boleh menyebabkan kerosakan emosi beliau. Madhuri! *********************************** Azreen telah 13 apabila dia bertemu dengan Mohd Asraf. Beliau adalah dua tahun lebih tua dan pengawas di sekolah mereka. Beliau adalah pintar dan kacak dan akan sentiasa memberikan senyuman besar beliau mesra setiap kali mereka bertemu dalam mesyuarat kelab editorial mereka. Tetapi itu adalah semua yang dia lakukan. Beliau meragui dia juga teringat namanya. Sehingga satu hari. Dia duduk di atas langkah-langkah batu dewan sekolah kosong dengan buku cerita yang tebal di atas pangkuannya bersendirian kerana teman wanita beliau telah pergi ke medan untuk menonton kanak-kanak lelaki bermain bola sepak. Dia tidak berasa seperti menyertai mereka. Ia bukan kerana dia membenci bola sepak, ia adalah kerana dia bukan berada di padang bermain daripada di bangku penonton. Dan selain itu, dia hanya tidak dapat meletakkan buku cerita itu. Tiba-tiba, bayang-bayang jatuh ke atas buku beliau dan apabila dia menoleh, dia melihat Mohd Asraf tersenyum pada dia dari atas tangga. "Hi," katanya. Dia menampar sshut bukunya dan merungut, "Hello." "Anda Azreen betul? Mengapa tidak anda di padang?" dia bertanya kerana dia duduk di sisinya. "Um, saya perlu menghabiskan buku ini." Kemudian apabila beliau tidak bercakap, tambah beliau sebagai afterthought, "Mengapa tidak anda ada sama ada saya fikir anda berada dalam pasukan." Belumpun hadd dia berkata ia daripada dia mahu dia telah digigit

lidahnya. "Bagaimana kamu tahu saya adalah dalam pasukan?" katanya, matanya membosankan ke dia. Azreen merasakan pipinya membakar di bawah pandangannya. "Seorang rakan memberitahu saya." Bagaimana boleh dia tidak tahu? Semua gadis-gadis lain di dalam kelas telah tergila-gila dengan dia dan dia adalah semua mereka bercakap tentang semasa waktu rehat. "Saya lihat." Dia mengangkat makanan kirinya. "Saya mempunyai diri saya untuk menyalahkan," jelasnya. "Saya dipintal kaki saya semalam apabila saya turun dari bas sekolah, saya mesti telah terlalu teruja dengan permainan dan benar-benar melompat dari atas langkah-langkah. Dan tersandung." Dia tidak ulangan segera adegan, berpura-pura kejap dalam kesakitan dan hopped sekitar dewan di atas satu kaki. Azreen ketawa. Dia tersengih dan duduk semula. Tiba-tiba dia berkata, "Saya melihat anda bermain hoki dengan Leela dan rakan-rakannya bahawa hari. Anda benar-benar baik." "Terima kasih." "Lihatlah, lelaki dan saya merancang untuk mempunyai sedikit perlawanan hoki Jumaat depan dan kawan saya, Hock Seng, tidak boleh membuat ia. Adakah anda ingin bermain?" "Anda amat bermakna ..." Azreen terlalu terkejut untuk pergi ke atas. "Adakah anda ingin untuk menggantikan Hock Seng? Dia tidak akan fikiran. Tidak akan lelaki. Mereka akan benar-benar kagum apabila mereka melihat anda bermain." Dia merenung dia bersungguh-sungguh. "Dan anda akan bermain terlalu?" bertanya Azreen. "Maksud saya, dengan kecederaan anda ..." "Ia akan sembuh dengan minggu depan. Jadi adakah ia satu ya?" Dia membiarkan keluar ketawa. "Ya, saya akan suka." "Okay kemudian!" Dia melompat. Kaki injuried Nya tidak kelihatan menyakiti apa-apa lagi. "Jumpa Jumaat depan, sejurus selepas sekolah. Kami akan Meratakan lawan!" Mereka memang Meratakan lawan. Kanak-kanak lelaki lain pada ragu-ragu pertama tentang seorang gadis yg gemar pd buku bestpectacled dengan personaliti berapi. Tetapi dia meletakkan persembahan yang hebat, walaupun menjaringkan beberapa mata untuk pasukan mereka. Mereka disebut-sebut topi berpeluh mereka kepada beliau dan anak-anak menjelang akhir semester. Gadis dalam kelasnya mula untuk membuang mata yang mencurigakan dalam arah beliau. Apa yang salah dengan gadis itu yang berkelakuan begitu unladylike, ketawa seperti sekumpulan dubuk dengan pasukan hoki lelaki ', dan selalu melepak dengan Asraf selepas kelas? Gadis-gadis tidak boleh membuat keputusan sama ada untuk menjadi jijik atau cemburu dia. "Anda tahu," kata Asraf untuk satu hari dia seperti mereka berjalan pulang dari sekolah, "Saya tidak fikir saya telah bertemu dengan sesiapa seperti anda sebelum. Anda begitu berbeza." Azreen membuat wajah kepadanya. "Apa yang kamu maksudkan? Dan anda lebih baik akan datang dengan jawapan yang baik atau kayu hoki ini akan berakhir di suatu tempat antara telinga anda!" Dia tersengih kerana dia berpindah naluri dari beliau. "Menyejukkan, akan anda? Ionly bermakna bahawa saya tidak pernah bertemu dengan sesiapa sahaja yang begitu nerdy dan Perancang, En Mahadi pada masa yang sama." "Perancang, En Mahadi?" menangis Azreen, meningkatkan melekat beliau. "Saya tidak agresif!" Rakannya pecah keluar dalam ketawa yang tidak terkawal. "Betul, anda membuktikan mata anda." Azreen terperangkap keluar lidah beliau pada dia. Apabila dia telah dilakukan ketawa, beliau berkata, "Tetapi serius, anda yang baik dalam pengajian anda dan anda cemerlang dalam bidang juga. Adalah sukar untuk menjadi baik di kedua-dua. Saya tahu saya hampir memastikan ia bersama-sama." "Tetapi anda disukai. Sekumpulan Orang di sekeliling anda seperti lalat sampah boleh. Seperti ulat daging busuk." "Terima kasih kerana kata-kata pujian." Senyuman Azreen pudar sedikit. Beliau ditoreh kayu hoki beliau pada batu hadir-mindedly. "Ia bukan mudah untuk menjadi seperti itu. Sosial diterima, saya maksudkan. Lihatlah saya. Semua orang membenci saya." "Tidak semua orang," kata Asraf. "Lelaki hoki seperti anda."

"Mereka mungkin berfikir saya pelik." "Nah, saya suka anda," kata Asraf dengan mengangkat bahu. "Tetapi sekali lagi, saya mempunyai daya tarikan untuk barangan pelik." Sekali lagi kayu hoki meningkat mengancam. Dia membocorkannya jauh dengan ketawa. "Selamat tinggal, kawan pelik. Jumpa anda di sekolah esok." Tanda jalan rosak creaked sebagai Azreen berjalan sehingga langkah-langkah batu adalah terlalu besar dengan lalang dan beberapa meter jauhnya, menjulang hutan. Tidak lama kemudian, lulus liku pada laluan dan pertumbuhan dibersihkan, dan tanah itu menjangkau sederhana ke arah rumah separuh kayu, separuh konkrit yang berdiri sedikit jauh dari seluruh kampung. ********************************* Rumah itu tetapi cahaya malap dari tanglung flickered dari tingkap. Semua penduduk kampung telah ditinggalkan. Halaman depan adalah kosong. Mak Cik Sharifah mesti telah ditinggalkan. Beliau telah menyebut bahawa mereka akan menginap di sebuah hotel di Kuah di pulau utama. Azreen hampir mahu dia boleh meninggalkan dengan mereka. Tetapi dia tidak dapat mesti tidak lari lagi. Tidak kali ini. Dia mesti mengumpul kekuatan dan menghadapi ini. Beliau ditarik keluar tudung kerana beliau memanjat langkah ke rumah. Bapanya tidak sekitar. Dia mungkin masih pada arwah kenduri. Beliau peeked melalui pintu bilik tidur dan melihat ibunya tidur nyenyak, bergulung seperti kucing dengan senyuman di wajahnya ingin tahu. Azreen menutup pintu secara senyap-senyap. Beliau telah menyibukkan dirinya Mengeluarkan mesin dari bungkusan begnya dalam bilik hampir kosong. Dia mengatur tilam di atas lantai dan tersenyum terima kasih apabila dia menemui dua bantal membuang kecil yang Mak Cik Sharifah telah meninggalkan beliau. Mereka mempunyai untuk menjadi orang-orang yang dia melihat di tempat duduk belakang kereta mereka. Duo bernas juga meninggalkan dua anaknya botol air, pisang dan oren di dalam bakul dan beg kelengkapan pakai buang. Dia membuka tingkap untuk membiarkan di udara malam. Cengkerik menangis kuat dari belakang rumah. Ada bau busuk sedikit asap dari semak samun. Beliau adalah kira-kira untuk berpaling dari tingkap apabila pergerakan secara tiba-tiba di luar menarik perhatian beliau. Satu bentuk gelap fleeted seluruh pintu dan hilang ke laluan. Untuk seketika, dia fikir ia kelihatan seperti seorang wanita dengan aliran rambut hitam. Madhuri? Tidak, itu adalah mustahil. Jadi siapa atau apa yang ia mungkin telah? Beliau tegang matanya untuk melihat. Tetapi ia telah hilang. Dari jauh, dia mendengar laungan lembut kucing lapar. Tangannya meraih bidai dan mengecam menutup tetingkap. Dia melompat ke atas tilam, meraih bantal dan dikebumikan di bawah kepalanya. Buat masa sekarang, dia mahu lupa bahawa dia berada di rumah. Mari perjanjian dengan pagi esok. ************************************* "Siti, tidak anda datang dalam tidur lagi?" "Ya, Mak, tetapi saya perlu selesaikan beberapa bab yang lepas pertama," dipanggil Siti dari beranda di mana sha duduk dengan membuka buku teks beliau di atas pangkuannya, tetapi matanya telah mengembara lalu jalan di hadapan. Dia telah duduk di sana belajar sejak dia dapat lari kerja-kerja rumah. Ia adalah sukar untuk belajar dalam keadaan sedemikian. Saudara bayinya masih meraung paru-paru beliau keluar dari bilik tidur. Beranda adalah perlindungan beliau. Tetapi di sini adalah satu lagi jenis gangguan. Beliau telah dilihat berjalan kaki Mohd Asraf awal dengan seseorang, mungkin Azreen, tetapi ia adalah terlalu gelap untuk memberitahu yang pasti. Lucu, dia tidak pernah tahu mereka dekat. Beliau baru sahaja bermula sebagai seorang guru pelatih di sekolah beliau pada tahun sebelumnya dan dia telah mendengar bahawa beberapa rakan sekelas beliau telah menulis surat cinta rahsia kepadanya. Dia tidak terkejut, sudah tentu. Dia adalah lelaki yang tinggi dengan rambut kerinting tebal, sangat kacak dan menawan tetapi dia tidak kagum Siti. Beliau adalah terlalu menarik untuk kebaikan dirinya sendiri. Gadis jatuh untuk dia kiri dan kanan, hanya mempunyai hati mereka dipecahkan kerana dia hanya mempunyai mata untuk satu. Siti ketawa kepada dirinya. Sejak bila pula dia menjadi begitu letih dan sinis? Oh, lupa tentang mereka. Dia harus belajar, tidak membuat watak pertimbangan. Siti sedikit hujung pensil beliau dalam pemikiran. Poor Azreen. Dia mesti berasa dahsyat kehilangan kakaknya. Bagaimana yang berbeza dari Madhuri dia. Ah, Madhuri, enigma.

Apakah dengan Madhuri yang dibuat orang-orang seperti dia? Suaminya doted atas beliau. Dia akan membeli permata dan cantik pakaian mahal dan mengambil beliau bercuti panjang. Ah, untuk menangkap hati ketua kampung yang kaya! Beliau adalah sedikit lama untuk Madhuri dan sudah mempunyai isteri bertahun-tahun tetapi dia adalah seorang lelaki yang dihormati. Siti tertanya-tanya jika dia sendiri pernah akan menerima menjadi isteri kedua lelaki. Tidak, dia memutuskan bahawa dia akan menjadi terlalu posesif untuk berkongsi! Siti ketawa pada dirinya lagi. Cukuplah bermimpi hari! Kembali untuk bekerja! *********************************** Isteri pertama Haji Ghani keluar dari katil dan berarak sengaja ke bilik bersebelahan. Suaminya masih Melibas throug album foto perkahwinan beliau dua tahun lalu. Dia dapat melihat dia penjarian foto diperbesarkan muka tersenyum Madhuri. "Abang," kata Puan Fatihah "tidak anda ingin datang ke katil?" Suaminya mengangkat bahu secara perlahan-lahan dan memberikan beliau tiada jawapan. Puan Fatihah mengetap kembali kemarahan beliau dan berjaya pertanyaan yang lain, "Anda akan semua hak? Tidakkah anda memerlukan rehat sudah?" Haji Ghani menggelengkan kepala. "Saya akan datang kemudian." Puan Fatihah melangkah ke belakang dan menutup pintu. Kakinya membawa dia ke ruang tamu di mana beberapa gambar berbingkai Madhuri menghiasi dinding. Dia hampir meraih satu dan melemparkan ia keluar tetingkap. Sebaliknya, beliau mengambil langsir berwarna zaitun bahawa Madhuri telah membeli dirinya dan meletakkan di rumah mereka. Ya, rumah mereka! Beliau rued hari bahawa gadis membesar dan datang ke dalam kehidupan mereka. Madhuri telah menguasai rumah mereka dan merosakkan kewujudan aman Puan Fatihah dengan suaminya. Puan Fatihah dibenci bahawa gadis, dan membenci suaminya untuk kelemahannya. Dan dia menghina dirinya untuk memberi kepadanya apabila dia meminta izin untuk mengambil Maadhuri beliau sebagai isteri ssecond beliau. Pua Fatihah mengheret langsir ke bilik di mana suaminya disimpan semua harta benda yang berharga. Bilik itu dipenuhi dengan ukiran dan permaidani yang diimport dari Timur Tengah, langsir dengan imej Kaabah, patung kayu daripada instrumen Indonesia dan tradisional dari era kesultanan Melayu. Puan Fatihah berjalan ke kabinet kaca dan teliti dikeluarkan Keris berharga yang dipamerkan. Dengan senyuman, dia berlari ikal bilah pisau kejam melalui kain nipis. Mungkin gunting akan melakukan kerja yang lebih baik tetapi sekurang-kurangnya Puan Fatihah dapat merasakan kepuasan Keris mengoyak jaggedly melalui fabrik. Dia melemparkan keping koyak ke dalam tong sampah sebelum akan kembali ke tempat tidur, rasa lebih baik daripada dia setengah jam lalu.