My mother was trying something unorthodox… (P4-end)

The story happened when I was 7 years old. The father of a classmate told my mother that he had a relative who could help…

We finally arrive at Ms. Chin's. People are waiting everywhere inside, outside in the yard, and even on the street in front of her house. Everything is exactly like last time, just with different attendances.

When it’s my turn people let me pass through to go in front of the altar. Everyone is asking how I am feeling, if I see any improvement on my skin. Honestly, I don’t notice any difference. But I don’t know why when I see the hopeful look on my mother’s face, I decide to lie. I tell them that I feel much better, my skin hurts much less than before, and that my hands seem to get softer since last time I came here.

Ms. Chin, or uncle Ba - I have no idea, yells at me because of the black pants I am wearing. She is mad because she told me not to wear anything black. I look around to search for my mother. There is a visible sadness on her face. I want to yell back at Ms. Chin, or however she wants to be called.

My mother has spent almost a week at her kiosk sewing these pants for me. She cut her nicest and newest pants to make these for me. The new school year is coming and she wants me to have some new clothes. At the moment I just want to come to embrace her face and say: “Forget about them mama. Let’s go home.”

Instead, all I do is standing still here without saying a word. I am trying to be a nice and obedient child. Looking down on the carpet, I start counting from one to hundred.

The ritual starts. This time Ms. Chin and I are both standing in the middle of the carpet. She is walking around me while holding my head with one hand. On the other hand she is holding three sticks of burning incense and moving it around my shoulders. With a quick action she gives the burning incense to the old woman. Still immobilising my head in her hand, she waits for the woman to put something on her other hand. The woman comes back with a surprising speed for her age. She puts on Ms. Chin’s hand a ripe melon. A big oval yellow one.

- Your skin looks similar to this melon’s. Now I am using this melon to take away all that is similar.

Screaming out loud, she smashes that huge melon on my head. Luckily it is a ripe one. The water breaks totally on my head. The juice inside it runs down my neck through my shirt to the floor. Ms. Chin gives me half of the melon in her hand. “Eat this up.”

I receive the piece of melon without any emotion and start eating it. I have never hated the taste of a melon like this before. I know that my mother is watching. She is telling me an idiomatic expression that I have heard quite often lately. “Bitter medicine heals, the truth disheartens”.

For every single piece of the melon going down to my stomach, there is a horrible reaction of my body to push it back up. Yes, I am about to throw up now. It will be a mess. A huge embarrassing mess. Tears in my eyes are ready to fall down. Yet I still remain silent, trying not to let people know that I hate melons. Especially this one.

- Mama, I’m full. - I am putting myself together with the coolest voice possible.

It seems like my mother is just waiting for me to say this. She approaches me and tries to clean the melon mess on my head.

- It’s all done. Say thank you to everyone then we will go home. - Suddenly she seems to be in a rush.

After we say goodbye to Ms. Chin and everyone in the room, my mother pulls my hand as if she is dragging me out of this place. She takes me back home on her bicycle. I see that she is pushing stronger and stronger on each round of the pedals.

I thought the silence would last forever. I actually do not have any story to tell her. All of a sudden, my mother starts, slowly:

- They wanted me to let you go with them, follow Ms. Chin in her rituals as her assistant. She prefers having you than that old woman. This is totally absurd. All of these things are nonsense. It has been a huge jugglery from the beginning.

She is rather telling herself all this. She pushes the pedals a bit stronger. My hands around her hips are moving up and down faster.

- So I don’t have to come to Ms. Chin’s any more, do I mama?

- No. You go to school. Go study well then you will find yourself remedies to cure this. Understand?

- Yes mama.

As we arrive at my mother’s kiosk, I help her with the opening. Mama is saying that I can even have a bottle of cold soja milk later if I want. Of course I do. Nothing is better than cold soja milk on a hot sunny day. Magically I have already forgotten about half of a melon that I ate a moment ago. Though it will take me ages before I can eat a melon again. For sure.