If I was dramatic I could described the trip to Michael’s house as a ride into unknown terror … no, not because I was his pillion rider (then as a teenager, I had no fear of riding on bikes, au contraire), but being a natural worrier, I was already regretting my acceptance of his invitation …
… for two reasons, one of which was the matter of the bus fare home (as discussed in Visiting Michael (1)), and the other, the far bigger cause of my anxiety … meeting members of his family.
I was the quintessentially shy bloke, the very opposite of Michael, which could explain our close friendship for as they say, opposite attracts … and f* you if you think for an instant that we were gay ;-)
Fortunately for bashful me, his parents weren’t in as his dad worked in another state. That was a gi-normous relief for me.
Soon we arrived at his house in Fettes Park. I marvelled at his semi-D house, which spelt wealth with a capital $ to me, the kampong boy who lived in a corrugated zinc shanty.
Of course I removed my studded 2-size-2-big ‘charity’ shoes before entering his house, taking great care that the old newspaper padding won’t be inadvertently extracted to everyone’s view and my great embarrassment – besides the headlines would be out-of-date. I carefully curled my toes away from the padding before tentatively withdrawing my foot out from each shoe.
Realizing that no one was watching for strange booty or magician's rabbit to emerge from my shoes, I relaxed a bit ... but then, I did wonder whether I could have survived the shame of being discovered with old newspapers padding my shoes, and good lord, with out-dated headlines too?
The anticipated feared moment occurred when I was introduced to Michael’s three sisters. Two of them were in the mid thirties, each of whom I addressed most politely as ‘Ah Chee’ (elder sister).
I had to refrain from executing a slight bow to them to demonstrate my humble respect, assessing that perhaps that might just be over the top. Much as I wanted to impress my best friend’s family I didn’t want to appear as an obsequious sycophantic mate of their brother.
But I did put on my best smile which Michael often described as terrifying and more of a leer. I took the chance that his sisters were less cruel ... and had better taste. The two Ah Chee’s reciprocated though I thought they looked fairly serious – it added to my trepidation.
Then Michael introduced me to Sulin, his third sister who was only a year our senior. There and then I fell in love with her, while cursing Michael for not telling me earlier that he had such a beautiful sister.
I wasn’t prepared for my best mate to introduce me to such a ravishing beauty. But Michael spoilt it, as usual, by adding into the introduction that she should watch out for the big Romeo in me.
Romeo? Moi? The bashful, blushing, backward bloke? Sheeesh!
I valiantly restrained myself from protesting vociferously against his mischievous fabrication as it would have made me look even worse in Sulin’s (gorgeously beautiful) eyes, so I put on a wistful smile to indicate my disdainful dismissal of his lie, but silently promised myself I would kill Michael at the earliest opportunity.
Naturally I offered my hand to Sulin which I hadn’t to the two Ah Chee’s. Oh, what a thrill to hold her dainty hand as we shook on our new friendship. Thank God for Western decadent culture or I would have been restricted to just a bow with a Shaolin style hand gesture.
Looking into her eyes, I felt the sensation of diving or falling into a deep deep deep bottomless pool of wondrously cool ether.
To be continued …
