Just a Girl

Lee Kok Liang

Originally published in Melbourne University Magazine, July 1951.

— —

The monkey rattled its chain when she passed by.

She must be near Che Hasnah's hut. It would not be far from the river then. The ground seemed hard and the pebbles bit into her bare feet, and she could feel the sweat running down her cheeks. The air was hot and dry like fire in the kitchen stove, and when she walked slowly on, it was as if she were in one of her dreams again when she floated in the boiling water with her hair spread out. No one was around, and she heard only the water and bubbles, and she cried and cried. Then mother would wake, come over to her and start scolding and shaking and shouting, "Run away, ghost. Allah help us."

She was on the right path. The road suddenly became cool and she guessed she was under some big trees near the river, and then the branches scraped her sarong as the road narrowed alongside the bank. She pushed out her hand. The trees were low and had little soft, round things. They were flowers, and she plucked one and put it into her hair. The bathing stage must be somewhere near. Where was it? Ah, she now remembered, twelve paces from that tree with the trunk that was as flabby as a cock's head-flesh.

Her feet touched the cool planks as she squatted down. She heard the water rush like a night wind under the stage, and she leant down and touched the cold surface. She would make rain, so she dipped her hand in and sprinkled a few drops of water on her face, and then gave a tiny laugh, because she was afraid to laugh loudly in case someone should hear. She always laughed to herself when mother and father were asleep, and sometimes would open the door and sit on the steps, turning up her head, and tried to find the moon.

Everyone said the moon was lovely. The moon was kind. So she turned up her head and tried to find the moon. She would hear the rush of the wind and the sounds of the goats and chickens stirring under the hut, and the clear buzz of the crickets, and the tiny screams of mosquitoes. Then she would go back into the hut, satisfied that she had found the moon, for everyone said the moon was in the sky.

A twig snapped. She stopped suddenly. What was that? The leaves of the tree rushed like a new sarong. Then there was a laugh.

"I've found you. Naughty girl. What are you doing? Do you want to get drown? Allah. Come here!"

She recognised Che Hasnah's voice. Che Hasnah was so old but then so good.

"But it is so hot, Che Hasnah. I wanted to cool myself."

"Where has you mother gone to? Leaving you alone. Allah I do not know what would have happened to you if the monkey did not rattled the chain just now."

"Mother went with Father to the market. She is helping to sell the fish and vegetables, as from today. You know, my brother quarrelled with Father and had gone away."

"Come. And don't go to the river again. A crocodile may swallow you. Understand!"

"Yes, Che Hasnah. I won't."

They walked on together. Che Hasnah gripped her hand. They went at a quick pace. She had never walked so fast before, and the ground seemed to be sinking and rising all the time.

"Where are we going? Please don't walk so fast."

"I want to show you something."

"What is it? A new flower?"

"No. Here it is."

A small thing clung to her hand, making little noises, and the thing gripped her fingers so tightly. Then it turned round and climbed up her other hand, making noises all the time. It was as soft as kapok.

"Do you know what it is?"

She shook her head. And Che Hasnah suddenly laughed out until she started to cough just as loudly. When it was all over, she heard Che Hasnah saying:

"Don't you know really? Can't you tell by feeling it? It is child monkey. A child of my monkey. Take it, and when you want bananas for it, ask me, I'll give you a bunch."

"Do monkeys have children, Che Hasnah? Oh, I never knew. But I thought the noises were familiar. May Allah preserve you for your kindness."

"Take it, child. As for Allah, He has preserved me far too long. Come, let us go back. This way."

The thing started struggling in her hand. Then she suddenly thought.

"Che Hasnah, what shall I do if it runs away? Would it die?"

"I got a little chain for you at my house. And you can bring it to my house every day and let it play with the mother."

"You are wise. Thank you."

The monkey rattled its chain when they came close to the house. And the little thing started whimpering, and then it struggled so hard. She followed Che Hasnah slowly up the steps. It was so cool in the hut and she pulled the flower from her hair and gave it to the tiny thing.

"Rest for a while. I’ll get you the chain and bananas. Then I'll send you home."

After Che Hasnah had gone away, she tied the thing to a post beside the door and gave it one banana, though Che Hasnah had said it was already well fed for the day.

She sat outside on the steps, and when they became cooler she knew her father and mother would be back. She could hear the goats, hens and men making noises everywhere, and now and then someone shouted out to her, and she would return the cry. The little thing lay quiet on the folds of her sarong and she touched it gently.

She heard the creaks of baskets and she knew it was Father.

"What a hot day it is. And that policeman nearly got me because someone had complained my weights were false."

"Be honest, Mat, do not cheat again. What would happen if they took you away, now that our son had run away?"

"Allah show mercy. How can I feed three mouths when everything is now getting so dear, and I am no longer young? I cannot work hard, and I feel so tired. Curse that evil son of mine.”

"Come let's go into the hut. Child, what have you got?"

"Mother, Che Hasnah gave me a child monkey."

"That shrewd old witch," her father cried out angrily, “she wanted us to feed it so that when it is big, she can claim it. Allah she is so bad. Take it to her. Take it away."

The little thing scratched suddenly into her sarong and she could feel the tiny claws on her flesh. She held it tight.

"Father, Che Hasnah said she would give me a bunch of bananas and would allow me to take it to its mother every day. Let me keep it, Father. Mother, tell Father that I want to keep it. Please, Mother."

"Mat, leave her alone. It was a hot day. And you are getting angry at everything. Come let's go in. Child, follow me and leave the thing alone."

She sat on the grass-mat and leant against the wall. Mother was again grumbling about the rice being bad and how that vein in her back pulled so painfully. Father carried in the water and she could hear the warm rush of the water into the jug. She went up and tried to help Mother with the rice. She was told to puff at the fire through the hollow bamboo tube. Soon her cheeks became warmer and she knew the fire was going well.

They sat on the mat, and Mother pushed some fish and vegetables on to her banana-leaf plate, and she quickly scooped the rice into her mouth, and when they had finished eating, Father brought over the jug and poured water over her hands. It felt like a cold wind slipping over her fingers and she rubbed them quickly, for she knew that father was impatient tonight.

When Mother had washed up, Father asked her to go to sleep. Before going into her corner she went to the door, and the little thing scampered up her sarong. She knelt down and felt for it, held it for a while and put it back again. She could hear the tiny rattle of the chain.

She stretched out in her corner, but she was not very sleepy. She rolled over and touched the small mirror hanging over her mother's bed-space. Taking it down quietly, she held it tightly in her hands.

It was as hard as a coconut-shell and one day when Mother found her with it, Mother told her not to hold it tightly, for it would break and cut her hands. She was surprised, for she had expected that Mother would snatch it away.

They said that a mirror could do so many things. And the wise kramat in the village told the children what magical powers there were in the mirror. If one were to meet a tiger-man in the jungle, hold out the mirror, and the tiger-man would change into an old man and he would show all his treasures. And there were many stars in his cave, for he had stored up all the stars that had fallen from the skies. The wise kramat would then give a laugh. She did not know why, but the laugh was funny. She liked to hear Che Hasnah laugh. It was so clean.

She turned the mirror in her hand. It was fat on one side and very thin on the other, like the edge of a knife.

Someone was talking. She felt sleepy now. The voice was low and while she lay she knew her other body had got up and walked round the hut, hunting for the voice which became sharp, and then very soft. She struggled to get up and follow her other body, but she could not. What was the voice saying? She struggled. But it was no use. Then her other body came back and became mixed up with herself again. And she heard the voice plainly.

"Wise kramat told me today that we send her away into that big house in the town. I'm afraid our child is having ghosts again.”

"Allah have mercy. What have we done to have such bad luck? Our son has gone away. And now our only one left."

"But it'll be better. I am getting old and I cannot earn much now. No one in our village will have her."

"I pray and pray to Allah every night. I visit the great banyan tree beside the hot-water well and pray and pray that our child, Allah help her, should become better. But the ways of life are strange. I do not understand it."

"It is the will of Allah. If I am young and strong, it'll be all right. But, you know, we are not getting anything now, and I still owe the rich ones five loads of grain."

"You know. Will it be right to send her away? Do not do it. Try to keep her. She is the only one now."

"Allah have mercy if I have done ill. I tried to keep her for many years. At first, I thought, someone in the end will have her. But no one in the village will."

"Give her to Che Hasnah. Give her."

"Curse be upon her. The old witch. Do you know she put a black curse on me when I would not have her and took you instead. Allah, if my son now returns, I'll forgive him everything. The black witch. The black witch."

The voice died down.

Then her other body got up again and walked out of the hut. She struggled to follow. Exhausted, she lay back and felt the night through her other body.

On the road by the river her other body walked. The monkey rattled its chain, and as she was about to continue on, she heard her brother's voice from inside the hut.

Then there were laughs. A bad one and a good one. Che Hasnah called out to her.

"Come in, child. Come in."

There was another laugh. Something very funny. Her brother started talking again. She was climbing the steps when the monkey moved round her, tying her legs up with the chain.

"Come in, child. We are having a big meal. Your brother and I and someone else. Ha. Ha."

"Sister, come in. The wise kramat is waiting for you."

Someone bent down and she felt that she could move her legs again. Then there were hands all round her body pulling her into the hut.

"Sit here, sister. Sit here. Meet the wise kramat. And Che Hasnah. They are going to be married soon. Ha. Ha."

Che Hasnah shuffled over to her and stroked her hair.

"Here is something for you, child. Ha. Ha."

"What is it?"

"It is mine and the wise kramat."

The smooth little thing crawled in her hand and then began to give out a thin wail. The wise kramat laughed and laughed. Che Hasnah put something into her hand.

"Tie it up."

"And when you meet," the wise kramat added, "the tiger-man be sure to give it to him. He'll show you all the treasures of the world. Ha. Ha. The treasures."

"He'll show you your father," Che Hasnah laughed again, “and how strong he was and how very weak now. The wise kramat will beat him up and throw him to the tiger-man. Ha. Ha. And after that your mother. Ha. Ha."

There were noises in the hut and the good laugh and bad laugh became mixed up. The thing on her lap whimpered, and someone, and later she knew it was her brother, wailed in her ear. Then a long rope was dropped over her neck, and she began to grow smaller and smaller. As the rope was pulled tight she could hear the rush of the waters and the heat got into her cheeks and all the smells of flowers came into her nose. There were laughs. Good ones and bad ones. She began to laugh herself. Ha. Ha.

She was struggling so hard in her corner when her other body returned. She turned on her side and she could hear her mother breathing softly. Suddenly she knew what she wanted to do all these years. She quietly got up so as not to disturb her mother.

The goats and chickens were stirring under the hut when she climbed down the steps. She had untied the little thing and it clung to her arm when she walked to Che Hasnah's hut. The monkey rattled its chain when she approached and put the thing beside it.

The night was hot and she walked to the river. They said that she could find the moon if she went to the river. She tried so much to find the moon in the sky, and she was not sure if she found it. Perhaps this time she could find it.

She pushed the trees and leaves from her and walked slowly to the bathing stage. On the stage she squatted down. She bent down her head. And suddenly she became very tired. She did not want to go to that big house in the town. She wanted to stay here and find the moon.