Buildings old and new co-existed in modish harmony at the town teeming with transit outsiders whom the locals catered for their nourishment and rest of tired bodies and heated up vehicles. Restaurants offering a stark range of choices hogged the line of shop lots. One which seemed to attract both locals as well as the visiting crowd provided Ain and Arman with their breakfast, a fare of roti canai for her and nasi lemak for him.
"Are you from these parts, Arman?"
"Nope. I'm from Kluang. Born there but studied in Perak at the Malay College of Kuala Kangsar, before going back to Johor for my degree."
"In psychology?"
"Partly. I took occupational therapy, dealing with those with special needs. The hospital is my first posting."
"Do you enjoy working there? Every day you'd be facing us crazy or comatose patients. The man I …. The one who died, he was schizophrenic, wasn't he?"
Visions of the assault replayed in her mind, the dead man's mannerism, his chaotic thoughts and the two personalities she encountered when she managed to briefly access his mind.
If I had been calmer, I could have saved his life, and we would not be on the run.
"Mr. Chang was delusional, sure, but only occasionally when he is under extreme stress. Thinks he's a woman reborn as a man. We weren't making much progress with him, and he just wanted to go back home. His family said no. Such a sad case."
Worse, we ended up killing him.
His thoughts loud and clear so Ain spoke no more. She finished off the sadly rubbery roti canai and sipped her coffee. The nice aroma preceding its bittersweet taste quenching her thirst for something warm adding to the calming sensations of murmurs in her mind.
Disturbed, she went back to mind scanning within her zone, listening in and picking out worried thoughts. Money being a common shortcoming in everyone's minds, including the restaurant owner whose cheeriness hid his concerns in overhead expenses sprinting faster than how many clients he could bring in. Others on local politics and how the incumbent politician hardly visited until it was time to vote again. Even more on children all grown up and having different sets of needs.
Bleak thoughts and yet in their minds she also found a strong level of optimism that things will go the right way. Ain looked at Arman as he called the waiter and asked for a glass of water; his cup emptied. He had somewhat regained his composure, and she detected the same optimism she found in the others. On the periphery of his mind, the faintest thoughts of an elderly woman, beautiful, the typical sharp features of a Caucasian.
A colleague? The name he spoke of?
They had parked right in front of a supermarket, slightly further from the place they were having their breakfast. She took her time with a short while with her coffee, enjoying the lull in her eavesdropping of a woman's thoughts. The second wife of a business owner providing sanitary services to a nearby automobile factory. Worried of her husband spending too much time on his cell phone. Suspicion the bastard has another woman looming large in her mind. Smiling to herself, Ain held herself in check from zooming out to seek the veracity of the woman's suspicions.
Ain was so deep in thoughts she realized she had somehow missed words Arman was saying to her. Caught his lips moving and his look turning to one of indignation. She tilted her head forward.
"Sorry. What was that?"
"I asked if anything came to you. On who you are," he said.
Her sudden spontaneous laughter attracted attention from the others in the restaurant, including the husband-worrying woman, looking much younger than her age. She wore gold bangles around both wrists and a stylish hijab, the brand name flashing for those who care to peer and read.
"If I didn't know better, I'd suspected that you were listening in on others. Were you?" he said, looking straight at her. She didn't need to answer, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping across her cheeks confirming his words.
She held her demeanor, smiled again, decided on a half-truth: "In fact I am reminiscing on things I do know about myself. Things like liking coffee without milk, having cats as pets when I was little, remembering their names. I remember the names of my cats but not my own."
It was Arman's turn to blush.
"I take it that you're not married. Are you seeing someone at the hospital? Is that why you're far away from your home?"' she continued.
A name flashing across his mind. Canny.
"No, I'm not. And no, I am also not seeing anyone at the hospital. Never will from now on," he said.
Her smile dissipated into the dank air, the silent distress eating the joy she had been experiencing. She heard shutters rolling upwards and the supermarket staff saying a prayer welcoming a new day and many, many paying customers.
Ain said ahem to catch Arman's attention. Motioned with a slight movement of her head towards the store. He followed suit looking past her and nodded. They paid for the meal and left the restaurant, walking briskly past a newspaper vendor seated on his tricycle. The elderly man had his morning cache on the sidewalk as a few customers bend down to pick up their choices. A lighted cigarette stuck outwards between his dry, cracked lips as the street slowly came alive around him.
Ain smiled, the mundane chattering changing to more challenging thoughts on attracting customers, selecting items to put on sale, the slew of promotions for the day. The mainly business folks are tuned to a mass rallying of their spirit to face another day providing for the flood of positive vibes which boosted the warmth Ain accumulated to strengthen the core of her being.