Fifty-Two

When Malu arrives home to the tippy hut, Uncle Nito shoves her back out the door. So hard she almost falls from the ladder.

“You are arrested by the police, girl, you bring deep shame on this family, and you expect a welcome from us?” Nattie follows her outside, hand raised to strike. “So hard on her,” she adds with venom, jabbing her thumb behind her, “my sister who loves you.”

“But I wasn’t convicted,” Malu says, desperate, frantic to see Umi. “Why do you think they released me?”

Nito looks out at her from the window, stone-faced. Nattie curls her lips and spits. “Get! Too much shame. Go away. Go! Go! Go!”

“Auntie Nattie, I need to see Amah,” she begs. “Please. Then I’ll go. And I won’t come back.”

Her mother, propped up on her bedroll as usual, seems much worsened. Her eyes lie deep in their sockets and her mouth twitches soundlessly. “Amah,” Malu cries, running over to her and holding her close. She is as light and hard as bone; her cold hands move by themselves and won’t stop to be squeezed, won’t stroke Malu’s in return. Malu weeps into this bundle of rags. Incurable.

“I did do the fire,” she whispers in her mother’s ear. “I did it, Amah.”

The words have no effect.

Scrambling to her feet, Malu is unable to contain the rage that roars through her. She staggers toward Nito and Nattie; he puts an arm up to shield himself and his wife. Malu backs away, her eyes filling. She snatches the money tin and empties it into her spreading hands and fingers. Then, thinking better of it, throws the coins to floor and runs.

Down by the river, she hides in the tall grasses, doubled over in pain. The only relief is to imagine walking out through the rushes and sinking into the cool water. Lord guide me, she prays, over and over.

Until she sees Sergeant Singh walking along one of the pathways through the grassland. Heading for home? Malu stays put to begin with, unconvinced that he won’t drag her back to the police station. But then it occurs to her, he is Allah’s answer to her prayers. She must talk to him. Ask him if she can still go to the orphanage. She would at least be fed there. Maybe she will be able to find work in Kuala Lumpur? In this town, nothing good will ever come of her.

Just as she rises to show herself to him, she spies the two English officers coming from a nearby building. The same mustache men who came to the police station, she decides. Though they are not wearing their uniforms. They walk together, swiftly, so focused on Sergeant Singh that Malu is able to keep up without anyone noticing.

Where one street meets another, the sergeant turns, looks far enough around to discover the officers rushing him, now, each one pulling at an arm and wrestling it behind his back. The sergeant is bigger and stronger than either of the men on their own, she can tell. And if she came to help him? No sooner does the thought cross her mind than one of the longos puts a knife to Sergeant Singh’s throat. He stills.

Malu presses her eyes closed. She will never forget the sound that starts her running.