In Brandon's room, Emma made herself comfortable at his desk.
"Mrs Selvi said we have to either write a report or prepare a chart on any aspect of the Japanese occupation of Singapore. Which facet of life do you want to base our project on?" Emma usually took the lead when they were working on projects, and Brandon, who preferred to study his mobile phone instead of his school books, was happy to let her. "Oi, where are your Social Studies textbook and activity book?" grumbled Emma.
"I say we do a chart. That'll mean less words to write. Hey, good thing you take Japanese classes, Em. We can look for photographs of Japanese war notices and you can translate them. And didn't the Japanese rename the Straits Times with a Japanese title? We can check out old news articles at the National Archives website and you can translate them."
"And what would you be doing while I'm slaving over the translations?" Emma countered.
"I'll keep you hydrated with your favourite drink - Iced Lemon Tea!" Brandon grinned. He ducked as Emma threw an eraser at him.
"Jokes aside, you wanted my textbook and activity book," said Brandon, sitting up. "They should be somewhere on my desk. Or maybe they're in one of the wall cabinets. My mum made me do massive spring-cleaning for Chinese New Year two weeks ago. I just took everything from my desk and put them in the cabinets and bookshelves. Don't ask me where I put what because I can't remember," chortled Brandon from the comfort of his bed. He took his mobile phone out of his pocket and started playing Minecraft. He was hoping to add onto the building he had started on a week ago.
"Fat lot of good you are," muttered Emma. "Always leaving me to do the hard work. In this wall cabinet, did you say? And why do you have a sign with 'Hard Hat Area' pasted on the door?" Emma opened the cabinet door but screamed as an avalanche of files and other assorted debris poured out, narrowly missing her head.
"Yikes! Now I know what you mean when you said you just tossed everything from your desk into your bookshelves and cabinets!" Emma yelped. "Get off the bed, lazybones," she went on, "I'm not packing your cabinet for you."
Sighing, Brandon placed the phone back in his pocket and left his bed reluctantly. While he was flinging his belongings back into the cabinet, he paused and held up his Social Studies textbook triumphantly.
"Hey look, I found my textbook. Told you it was in one of the cabinets. Let's look at the sections on the Japanese occupation. Gosh," Brandon said, flipping the pages of his book, "the Japanese soldiers all looked terribly forbidding. Ah Gong was a young boy during the war and he said that you had to kowtow to the soldiers every time you walked past them. Otherwise, they would slap you, or worse," Brandon added ominously.
"Stop looking at the book and carry on packing. You've still got so much stuff to put back into the cabinet. Oh, what's this doing in your cupboard?" asked Emma.
Brandon looked up and saw that Emma was holding up the antique camera which Ah Gong had given him during spring-cleaning.
"That's Ah Gong's ancient camera. Don't bother taking any pictures with that old thing. It doesn't work," said Brandon losing interest and turning back to his book.
Emma peered into the viewfinder and realised that she could see a blurred image of Brandon reading his textbook. There was nothing wrong with the lens, it seemed. Taking some wet wipes and tissue paper from her school bag, she cleaned the camera thoroughly. There was a thick cake of dust at the base of the shutter which she paid special attention to, removing it gently.
When the camera had been cleaned, she aimed the viewfinder at Brandon and gave the shutter an experimental click.
SNAP!
In an instant, Brandon and Emma found themselves spinning in a whirling vortex. The Force 10 gale whipped Emma's long tresses around her face and obscured her vision. When she finally managed to look around her, she found to her relief that she was not alone. Brandon was only an arm's length away from her. Eyes wide open in fear, they called out but the wind snatched away their words. By inching forward little by little, they managed to link their hands. They clung onto each other tightly, terrified that they would be separated. Meanwhile, the swirling began slowing down and soon came to a complete stop.
"What the heck just happened?" asked Brandon. "Oh dear, my legs are so wobbly I can't stand up. I'll have to sit down," he groaned, flopping onto the floor in a heap. "And where are you going?" Brandon wailed, noticing that Emma seemed to be wandering off. He had no wish to be left alone after what had happened.
"Brandon," Emma said, coming back to where the boy was seated, "have you taken a look around?"
"No, I can't concentrate when every bone in my body is aching. The human body has 206 bones and all of mine are screaming blue murder. I don't know how you can even walk after the roller-coaster ride we had in that tornado, cyclone, I don't know what to call that thing. It must be all the high board diving you do every week. Makes you immune to heights and motion sickness. Arrghhh, I'm going to be black and blue all over tomorrow," Brandon moaned.
"Oh, stop whining like a baby," Emma chided. Her eyes sparkling, she went on, "Do you realise something familiar about this place?"
Brandon completed the examination of his body for broken bones and stood up gingerly. He would live to see another day, he thought wryly. Scanning the squalid alley they were in, he exclaimed, "Why, it's the same location as the one in our Social Studies textbook, the one I was looking before we got sucked into the tornado. I think I'm going to stick to calling it a tornado. What were you doing before we were swept up?"
"I was taking a picture of you with your grandfather's camera," replied Emma.
"And we ended up here? Ah Gong's camera must be a time machine!" Brandon was in shock.
"I'm glad that the vortex hasn't re-arranged your brain cells," Emma said with a grin. "I think you're right, and that we're in Singapore in 1945. Wasn't that when the photograph was taken? Wait a minute, where's your textbook? Thank goodness I had slung your grandfather's camera around my neck when I was taking your photograph."
"There it is!" yelled Brandon, pointing to a spot nearby. "It must have been prised loose from my grasp when we were spinning around." The boy trotted over and retrieved the textbook. The cover was slightly creased but it was none the worse for wear. Turning eagerly to the page he had been reading before they were transported through time, he scrutinised the photograph in the book and then cast an eye over their surroundings.
"I think we can safely say that we are in Singapore in 1945," confirmed Brandon. "The photograph shows a slight crack in the wall. I can see the same crack on that part of the wall behind you, Emma," he said. "But...I just thought of something terrible. If this is really Singapore in 1945, we're at war! And," he gulped, "we're Chinese. Didn't Mrs Selvi say that the Japanese hated the Chinese the most? The Chinese community in Singapore were vociferous in their display of anti-Japanese sentiment when Japan invaded China, going so far as to boycott Japanese goods and services and banding together to raise funds in aid of the Chinese troops. In fact, some young Chinese men even returned to China and joined the military. That was why unlike many of her Chinese neighbours, Mrs Selvi's parents made it through World War II unscathed. Many Chinese men were taken to Changi Beach and shot after being made to dig their own grave!"
"Yes, Brandon," replied Emma, "I did make the connection that Singapore was at war in 1945. So while you've been freaking out, I've..." Emma paused. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" asked Brandon, his head swivelling left and right apprehensively, expecting a Japanese soldier to materialise beside him.
"Someone's shouting! And from the sound of it, they don't seem very happy!" Emma said in alarm.
Just then, Brandon heard them too. Stentorian shouts, coupled with the thump-thump of presumably Japanese boots pounding on the pavement, were coming their way. The children's faces turned chalk-white.
"Psst!" came an urgent whisper. Whirling around, Brandon and Emma discovered that the source of the hiss was a Chinese boy who had crawled out from behind a bank of rubbish bins. He beckoned to them impatiently and they walked over hesitantly.
"The Japanese are coming! You should hide quickly. Here," he said, making way for them to squeeze behind the rubbish bins with him, "stay down and keep quiet!"