Girl
BYTHETIMEthe taxi dropped them off, the driver still muttering away
about Lakshmi and mutton curry under his breath, night had fallen
and thetwo girls and Pink stood quietly in the town center, taking it
all in.
Kampung Kuala Gajah had two main roads that intersected,
along which stood rows of tired-looking shophouses with weathered
signs proclaiming their specialties in once-bright colors. The only
people in sight were those manning their businesses, and even
those were few and far between; the man in the shop proclaiming
Photostat, Printing, Binding, Laminating, We Take Passport Photo
Also was struggling to bring down the metal shutters andclose up,
and theaunty presiding behind rows of plump white steamed pau
was engrossedin a telenovela playing on her phone, squinting so
she could read the subtitles. "Aiyah!" they heard her mutter under
her breath from time to time, or, "Wah, like that also can!" Everything
else was already closed, and the streetlights themselves seemed
dim and hopeless.
"This is where my grandmother lived?" Suraya wrinkled her nose
as she took it all in.
Pink shrugged his little grasshopper shoulders. The witch wanted
to live unnoticed. What better way than to lay down roots here, a town that is perpetually a stop and never the destination?
Jing was surveying the contents of her wallet, a resigned look on
her face. They'd stopped at a gas station so she could get some
money from the ATM there with the debit card her mother had given
her for emergencies, one she'd kept hidden at the bottom of her
shoe. They'd had no choice; the taxi had to be paid for somehow.
"That's it," she said sadly. "It's only a matter of time before my
mother thinks to check the card activity, and then I'm basically dead."
Suraya slung her arm over her friend's shoulder. "Then we'd
better make this count."
It didn'ttake long to find the witch's house, just down the street from
the mosque. Itwas a small, solidly built wooden house with a green
tin roof, fat mosquitoes buzzing around jambu trees so weighed
down with unpicked fruit that their boughs dipped toward the ground,
and just behind the house, a perfectly round pond, its surface barely
visible beneath a thick layer of fuzzy green scum. It had also clearly
not been occupied since the witch had died; the door was falling off
its hinges, and when Suraya peeked inside, she saw cobwebs
stretching from corner to corner.
This is it,Pink said, his voice low. This is the house where the
witch died.
In the darkness, something scurried away out of sight, and Jing
jumped.
"I hate rats," she whispered.
Suraya didn't like them mucheither, but the desire to understand
the grandmother she never knew, this strange woman whose blood
she shared, won out over the urge to turn and run. She pushed the
door open and stepped in.
The windows were covered in a thick layer of dust, but the light
from the sole street lamp outside still fought its way in, and Suraya
could just make out the outlines of furniture. There wasn't much of it.
The entire house was a single room, and besides a narrow bed by
the window, a cupboard, and a desk with a single chair, the room
was bare.
Right there,Pink said. Right on that bed. That is where she took
her last breath.
"If she knew . . ." Suraya paused, trying to find the words."If she
knew, then maybe she was just trying to protect me all along. Maybe
she cares more than I thought."
She felt a gentle caress on her cheek.Itwould be hard not to
care about you, little one.
"Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar . . ." The call to prayer filled the room,
as clearly as if the bilal was standing in the corner bellowing it just for
them.
Isyak,Pink said. That means about three and a half hours to
midnight.
"Is that the best time to . . . to . . ." She couldn't bring herself to
finish.
The full moon has powers we do not fully understand, and
midnight is when it is at its peak.
"Is that a yes?"
It is as good atime as any. Perhaps you should get some rest.
Pink's voice was gentle.There is still much to do. A grave to find, a
hole to dig. You will need your strength.
"Maybe you're right."
She went outside onto the porch and sat beside Jing, who was
red-eyed and sniffing and wiping her nose on her sleeve, leaving
trails of snot.
Jing reached out to touch her hand. "You okay?"
Suraya took a deep breath. "I think so."
"So. Midnight, huh?"
They looked toward the mosque.
"Midnight," Suraya said. "It all happens at midnight. And we've
got some homework to do before then."
"Huh?" Jing looked at her, eyebrows raised in confusion.
"Homework, at a time like this? I knew you were some kind of nerd,
Sooz, but this is another level . . ."
"No lah!" Suraya punched Jing lightly in the arm. "I meant we've
got to prepare ourselves. We know the pawang is looking for us too;
there's no way of knowing whether he's figured out wherewe are or
not, but we do know what he's got to work with. Whateverhe throws
at us—polongs, bajangs, toyols, whatever other demon hehas in his
service . . . we've got to be ready for them."
Jing sighed. "And my ma wasso happy I'd found a nice, quiet girl
to be friends with." She pulled out her phone. "All right. Tell me what
I'm searching for."
"Are you sure? Won't your ma be able to find us then?"
"Better her than some monster swallowing me alive."
And as the crickets sang in the shadows and Pink watched over
them, Suraya and Jing benttheir heads close together and got to
work.