VI | Some Night
❦
After medicine time,
I still hear Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata
repeating in my mind.
The patients
have scattered now,
some have gone to eat,
others to bathe,
two continue to sit in their armchairs
staring into space.
With the two nurses trailing behind me,
I wander into other rooms
that I didn’t get to see earlier.
There’s what looks like a study
with bookshelves,
a computer
and a television with no sound.
In another room,
I find stacks of black canvases,
paints and brushes,
and easels with
(half-completed?) abstract art.
Art supplies
are stacked in messy cubbyholes
with no order to it.
I wonder if there’s a
penknife
somewhere
in the mess.
What would the nurses do
if I pick it up?
The third room
must be a studio.
One wall is all mirror
and there are CD players
scattered around.
I open the cupboard
in the corner
of the room
and a pile of leotards
with the scent of sweat
tumble out.
I’m just gonna leave them lying there.
Fifi, aren’t you going to bathe?
I see Tammie’s reflection
in the studio mirror.
Her short hair is damp,
matted onto her head.
She’s
wearing
a dress shirt too big
for her.
She looks
vulnerable
like this.
Tammie rakes her fingers
through her hair.
‘I don’t know
‘where’s the bath,’
I say.
She smiles
apologetically
and pulls me
back to the hall
through the kitchen
into the bathroom
marked for females.
There are shelves
with different kinds of clothes
to choose from.
I pick a dress shirt
that looks like Tammie’s.
The girl who keeps giggling
brushes past me,
her hair
dripping water
behind her.
She’s still wearing
that same flowy dress
that billows every time she moves.
After I bathe,
I find Tammie
waiting
just outside my cubicle,
an apologetic smile
on her face.
Her grey eyes are glazed,
her movements
more languid
than before.
‘What medicine are you on?’ I ask.
She thinks
as we go upstairs together,
the two nurses
following after.
The same ones as you.
I’m not happy with her reply
but the knob gives way
when I turn it
so I forget it
when I step into my bedroom.
Tammie
and the nurses
follow me in
and I don’t ask why
because I’m staring
at the wrought-iron bed
and grey pillows,
the peeling white wallpaper
and the gothic window.
It’s not
the size of a coffin
but the
lack of stuff
makes it seem
like a
tomb.
Once you settle in,
it’ll look better,
Tammie says with a yawn.
I sit on the bed.
The nurses find two chairs
from somewhere
and sit on them.
Watching me.
‘You gonna watch me sleep?’
I ask
in disbelief.
Tammie smiles at me
apologetically.
Sorry. Just put up with it
for a week.
I pull back the thin grey blanket
and pull it up over my legs.
The pretty nurse
types something
on her phone.
‘I’m not
‘scared of the dark, you know?’
She nods her head
without even
looking at me.
The plain nurse turns the light off,
plunging the room
in blackness.
‘Good night,’
she says in a voice
that’s supposed to be soothing.
‘You’ve had a long day.’
I squint at them
in the dark,
silvers of light
still come through the window.
But there’s
not much of that
because we’re in some
ulu forest
in some ulu part
of Singapore.
I snort.
‘Are you going to sing a lullaby too?’
The phone’s glow
lights up the chin of the pretty nurse
and makes her eyes
glitter.
‘Do you want me
‘to sing one?’
I lie down
and keep my eyes open,
staring at the
blank ceiling,
and the outline of
the LED lamp,
determined
to stay awake
until morning.
❦
I blink
and suddenly
I’m blinded
by bright rays of light.
I smell her rancid breath
before I hear her.
Wake up!
❦