"You're very good," said Ain. She sat in the back seat of a cab. A young girl seated next to her, a set of A4 papers stapled together for a makeshift sketchbook in her small hands. Beautiful sketches in farm animals and people on the white surface.
"Where did you learn to draw like this?"
"Mostly on my own. My art teacher is keener on doing crafts, which I don't really like," said the girl. She wore the white baju kurung and green skirt of students attending the afternoon religious classes.
"Yeah… I find doing crafts very tedious too… but I would love to be able to draw like you. When did you do these?" Ain said, her eyes on portraits of people, their features distinct.
"Usually when I'm waiting with mom at our stall. She doesn't really need my help, but I keep her company and draw her customers. They normally buy a lot, so it takes a while for mom to pack the food. Sometimes, you get the feeling she's just taking her time with them."
Ain smiled, reading an image of the girl's mother in her mind, whose gentle eyes looked on at her sketching furiously on papers backed by a thick cardboard.
The traffic heading into town had dissipated, the main flow being those ferrying school children as they reached the corner where Ain had boarded the cab earlier.
Ain spied a bookstore and nudged the young cab driver, touching him lightly on the shoulder.
"Could you wait for a while?" she said. Ain didn't wait for an answer but alighted as soon as they came to a stop. She walked briskly and entered the shop, an elderly woman with butterfly spectacles manning the cash register.
"Sketch pads?" she asked, the lady pointing towards a corner.
Ain picked out one with a sturdy back and thick papers as well as a set of art charcoals, paid for them, and returned to the waiting cab, the driver wearing an anxious look. She opened the back door, passed the plastic bag with the items she had bought and paid the father, who tried to peek what she had passed to his daughter.
She left the father and child looking at each other and headed towards Suraiya's place. Ain was a block away from the learning center when she sensed the mind of a woman who seemed very familiar to her.
Someone I knew?
She went inside a convenience store and strolled straight to the magazine's section. Her mind zoomed in to the person she had detected, found her thinking of prawns, and why they cost so much.
Ain slipped into the seller's mind, his thoughts on closing shop soon and hoping this posh looking woman would buy everything so he could then rest the whole day. She saw the woman through his eyes. Middle age, average height, beautiful features, minimal makeup, wedding ring on her finger. An IKEA shopping bag in her arm already filled with groceries and thinking on a simple take away lunch and cooking just dinner. For her son, an uncle and auntie.
She zoomed out from the two, the unknown woman ready to buy, the seller thinking of a flat rate for the whole batch.
Who is she? I should seek her out. See if she recognized me.
A voice within her urged for caution, memories of what John Doe had done to Arman replaying in her mind. Ain sighed, her hand going to the month's edition of Women's Health. On its cover was a brunette wearing the tiniest set of bikinis. Her hair wet, bits of golden sand on her washboard, flat stomach, and shiny white, teeth fronting a perfect smile.
Whilst paying for the copy, Ain asked the bespectacled young man manning the counter where the town's wet market was. He pondered a bit, his thoughts racing, navigating the routes and then settling on a spot south of the town, a few miles from where they were.
"About five, six miles from here, Miss. The one in Pasir Penambang. If I am not mistaken, it's at Jalan Feri Lama. The bus no 83 goes there. Best time to go for fresh catch would be in the afternoon. Prices are also cheaper around then."
Spotting her slightly bemused look, he grinned.
"My dad sells coconut milk there."
Thanking him, Ain left the convenience store, her mind zooming in again on the woman now driving and listening to the news, in her mind thinking "nothing but politics".
As she tried tracing her route, Ain also picked up the increased thought activities of the two men who had been following her and Arman. They were speaking to each other, united in wanting to move in, and worried that their quarry may have slipped out unseen. She read a name (Steven? Stephen?), and the increased agitation in one of the duos over their outfit. In being unable to move freely around the village.
A few minutes later, Ain stood in front of the glass door of Suraiya's workplace. She wondered about the slightest tug in her heart in seeing her reflection on the smooth surface. In her mind the door had a different name etched on it, the words a mess of shapes denying her any clarity. She brushed off the thoughts and pressed the buzzer.
"I'm here to see Suraiya."
****
"Classes are three sessions. Nights are usually for the adults, and these would be the more advance modules. There's between 15 to 20 participants in a sitting, some just accompanying their partners."
Ain heard the disgust in Suraiya's voice as she said this, peeking in her mind to see couples sitting together. Some getting all amorous even as she tries to explain the intricacies and functionalities of an embedded application.
The center occupied all three floors, the first floor having the biggest classroom, the second and third floors subdivided into three smaller rooms. All rooms were equipped with a movable whiteboard for the lecturer and chairs with writing boards for laptops for the students. The power points were built into the carpeted floor - turquoise blue, colors faded in patches - and the air-conditioning, centrally controlled.
"Our house rule is that a class finishes no longer than 9pm. The town is relatively crime free, but it's still quite risky for both students and trainers to leave too late."
Suraiya suddenly grinned at Ain, said: "I get to leave earlier at 6pm. My excuse? No transport otherwise. They've been bugging me to get a car. At my salary I'd be better off buying a bike instead. Dad would freak out if I do get one though, and I bet he's just going to pass it to my brother to chaperone me to and from work."
Ain just smiled at this remark, remembering her own lack of any identification papers.
"So, Ain… Are you still keen to work with us? You can start by observing tonight's class, if you wish. You haven't booked your room, have you? I can go with you. Happened to know the front manager."
"Most definitely but there is a small problem. I don't have my identity card with me."
"I don't think it matters so much to the owner. As for us…. We're going to pay you in cash anyway. Don't even need your bank account number."
Don't have that either
"Awesome. And yeah, it would be great to sit in one of the classrooms. Who's teaching the night class?"
"Stephanie. She stays the closest, and her dad… let's just say you don't want to mess with the man. Tall, very handsome and quite the hunk for his age. Going to retiree in two years, says Steph. She loves him a whole lot."
"Her mom?"
"Died in an accident when she was only in her teens. Don't know much about it. She stays with her dad and grandparents. Has two brothers and a sister. She's the eldest."
The center had three permanent staff for the administrative and clerical work, their eyes locking on Ain when she entered the place earlier. A staircase led to the other two floors, the exit door locking electronically.
"Safety feature," said Suraiya.
"How long have you been working here?"
"Hmmm… Going into my third year now. Stephanie and Aswad started the center at another site before moving here. The number of students had grown too large, they said. I wasn't around then. Still studying."
"And you're thinking of moving away?"
"Well… the thought crossed my mind every now and then. Especially when you chance on those visiting the town, going to Kampung Kuantan to watch the fireflies at night. You look at their big MPVs, their big feasts and you keep thinking if life could be better elsewhere…"
Suraiya looked away for the shortest of while, Ain catching in her mind a fleeting thought on the married man.
"Not you, of course. I mean, you're travelling on your own. Backpacking. I mean… oh wow… Sorry, Ain. I don't know what I mean."
Ain grinned, hugged the young woman at her side, said: "No… no… I should be the one apologizing. I brought up the matter, not you."
Suraiya looked at Ain, her eyes full of questions and then pulled her inside one of the smaller rooms.
"I know we've only known each other a few hours, and you can just say it's none of my business, but…. are you running away from home, Ain?"
Ain looked at her new friend, eyes wide open in anticipation, the eagerness to help shining clear in her mind, to counsel, thinking Ain was in trouble of some kind and having nowhere to go.
She walked over to the frameless window in the room, parted the light brown drapes slightly to a view of the road below - three cars, a motorcycle and a lorry, people walking on the sidewalk.
"Let's just say that I'm looking to find my own path in life, Suraiya."
A long pause in wordless silence ensued, broken minutes later by the sound of footsteps, chatters, giggles and guffaws as the next session's students arrived via the staircase. Suraiya nodded her understanding, went to the front and center to greet her students as they walked into the room. Ain moved herself to the rear of the class as it began filling up, curious looks from some of the attendees at the additional person to their usually sole trainer.