The Class Of '98

The setting was surreal. I am sitting at my usual desk right behind of the class. I had the pleasure of feeling the passing winds in my hair, observing the cars that zoom up and down the narrow street outside my school, and I even had the best view of the city.

It was inevitable that 16 year old me didn't pay much attention to my Math teacher for it was the last day of school. I was already welcoming the June holidays before it began. I was worrying about the subtle things that awaited me such as the fishing trips and the night outs and the beach. Though I was sitting right behind looking at my teacher profusely writing on the blackboard...in my mind, I was supinely thinking of the month of June.

Before my math teacher ended the class, she constantly reminded us of the tonne of homework we had to do for the holidays. Formality sake, I did however jotted it down at the back of my book. And it was to stay there unscathed....throughout the month of June for in my mind, I was going to copy my homework on the first morning when school commences again.

And so the holidays came and went in a jiffy and for once, I was the first to reach school that morning. I placed my school bag on my desk and proceeded to have breakfast at a coffeeshop nearby.

My friends and I decided to skip assembly that morning. Something we did at random days most of the time. We sneaked through the back gate and up the stairs and went on to our respective classes.

My class was as empty as when I first came in that morning. "Where are all my classmates?", I asked myself. Then I remembered that we had classes at another venue for Monday. I grabbed my bag and tried to rush to my class in a futile manner.

When I arrived, I could have merged with the rest of the class for they were still scampering around in a holiday daze, trying to find a seat. The righteous me however made a bee line for the teacher to confess my late coming.

My teacher must have read my mind or somehow had enough psychic powers to deduce what I was going to confess for she glared at me with her huge eyes as though they were like saucers. I would be lying if I said I wasn't disturbed.

"I'm sorry Mrs Foo, but I am late this morning", I managed to squeeze out that line while looking at the floor. I could still feel the heat of her huge saucer-like eyes on me. "Why are you late huh? First day of school also late!", she silenced me off. It was then also that I realised that I hadn't touched the homework she had given us earlier. I was doomed and I just prayed that she didn't ask to see my exercise book.

At that precise moment, I opened my eyes to the darkness of my room. My head still on my soft lush pillows but I was asking myself whether or not I had done my homework. What time is it? Was I late for school? The vision of an appalling Mrs Foo with arms akimbo was still in my head. I was trapped between reality and dream.

The time showed 6.58am. If I was still in school, I would be so very late. But thank god I wasn't. Thank god all these was just a dream. As I lay in bed tossing and turning, I managed to smile. Smile to the fact that although I was a lazy, disobedient, and mischievous student...I still have the fear for Mrs Foo. I, the writer.....am 24 years old now.

Mrs Foo was a teacher that invented grit through her sheer abilities. I didn't realise it back then but in one way or another, she has contributed to the shaping of our lives. She thought us about punctuality, righteousness and other virtues of that moulds a successful individual.

To Mrs Foo who if in any case happens to chance upon this page (but I know she wouldn't for she's probably busy marking Math homework of those brats), I wanna shout out a huge 'Thank You' for you deserved it. Though it's a long time coming..nevertheless you still deserved it.

To my class & the batch of '98......Those were the best days of my life.

For now, I wish you guys all the best in your future endeavours and I shall sign off as

Yours Always,
The Boy Who Sits Right Behind In Class

A Father's Tale

MWO Phillip Oh
1948 - 2006

Master Warrant Officer(MWO) Phillip's war decorations painted one side of his office wall a riot of colours. On the opposite wall hung his family portrait. MWO Phillip in his ceremonial attire, his wife in a pretty red cheongsam and his only son Dominic.

Though he often barks like a bull dog and terrorizes the soldiers under him, you can never miss his forlorn look whenever he is alone. Like as if he is deep in thought. The way he smoked his cigarette...the way he stares into the open sky...and the way he blinks his eyes. Something bothered him but like a statue of a war hero, his thoughts remained embedded in stone.

His much anticipated retirement commenced as soon as my batch of soldiers completed our national service and with the test of time, images and memories of MWO Phillip banished itself from our minds.

Some of my camp mates became lawyers, doctors and salesmen. Some went back to becoming secret society members. Others got married but nevertheless whenever we happen to chance upon one another, we still laughed and discussed about the days when MWO Phillip striked fear into all of us.

I took over my father's business and my marriage bore me a son and everyday was a dream. I was rushing home one Friday evening for I missed my son a little bit more than usual. My wife did not cook that day and so I sighed when she called to say I had to buy dinner from the coffee shop nearby.

After getting dinner, I was scurrying out of the coffee shop when an all too familiar voice filled the space around my ears. "Private Han! Where are you darting off to. Only 6 o clock man. Come here and sit down drink one 'kopi' with me la", the unmistakable commanding voice of MWO Phillip barked in a somewhat friendly tone this time.

"Sir...Waa you still remember my name hah?," I tried to reply in a coyish manner. Somehow I obliged to his wishes like the old days and I summarised to MWO Phillip the details of my life since I left the army.

"Well son..you better take care of your family while you still have them", MWO relayed to me in between puffs. "Unlike you, my wife stopped cooking for me 25 years ago. She ran away with my gangster friend when my son was 5. I take it as retribution. You know when I was younger, I messed up many people's life. Being in the secret society was my way of life. I even took people's lives in fights before. Till today, I still thank god that I'm still alive. Do you know how it feels like to sleep with a parang by your bedside? Everyday I close my eyes could have been my last", MWO Phillip shaked his head and blinked his eye slowly.

"Well at least the army gave me an opportunity. An opportunity to send my son to school and some simple luxuries like toys and football boots," MWO Phillip tried hard to fake a smile. "My son...a very smart boy. Ten years ago, I sent him overseas for further studies. All my savings was spent for his University fees, hoping that one day, I would get to see the returns of my investment. But my son, he fell in love with an 'ang moh' and his university thought him how to slang. Ka ni na!! He adopted the western way of life and is now too shy to return home to his father. He is scared his 'ang moh' wife would laugh at me," MWO Phillip cackled like an evil man.

"He should have been back by now. Never write me a letter. Never call. No address for me to visit. What am I supposed to do? I thought I would live to see the day that he gets married. Be among grandchildren. But now..I'll never know. Life works in mysterious ways huh Pvt Han?" MWO Phillip asked me a question I can't answer.

"Secretly I'm still praying for the day that my son will walk into my house. I want to see how he's aged..whether or not he still looks the same. Will he be eager to see his old room? I never touch a thing you know since the day he left because he never liked anyone to mess his room. He says wait he can't find his things." MWO Phillips paused for a while...deep in thought.

"Im not much of an English educated person. But I know of this nursery rhyme which I always read to my son Dominic. It goes like this,

Two Little Dicky Birds Sitting On A Wall,
One Named Peter, One Named Paul.
Fly Away Peter, Fly Away Paul,
Come Back Peter, Come Back Paul!

I think it is easier to be a son than to be a father sometimes. But somehow I still failed to be a father let alone a dad", MWO Phillip lamented. MWO Phillip's story stripped my mind of other worldly issues and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't affected.

2 years have passed since the day I saw him at the coffee shop. His face appeared in the obituary. Loneliness, Depression and ill health has finally caught up with him. He looked sad in the photo as always. I still wonder if his little dicky bird ever found its way back to its nest. It appears...I shall never know.

The Cheat

Tomorrow is the Secondary 2 History test which constitutes 30% of the total semester grade. What a chore the students thought for they have Chapter 1- 3 to study...or more appropriately MEMORIZE. What a terrorizing word that is. Teachers always say, "You know what class..why don't you guys burn the pages of your text and drink it with water. Then perhaps you don't have to study." Do you think thats a funny joke? Personally I can't laugh to that. Such teachers should just go fuck a spider.

I reached home early that day and chucked my bag into the corner where it always belongs. I forced myself to open my History text. The pages seemed like an endless ancient scroll. What has these contents got to do with my career in the future I wonder. I scurried through the pages and sighed as I rested against my study chair.

The sound of the Playstation 2 being played by my brothers somehow seeped its way through my room door...beckoning onto me. The calling was too powerful and I gave in. An hour of bliss on the PS2 soon became 2 and 3 and without realizing, the sun had set without prior warning.

I lugged into my room again cursing at my text. It is comedy night today on TV and I've never missed it. "Everybody Loves Raymond" followed by "My Wife & Kids" , "Still Standing", "King of Queens", "Frasier".

Of course, I opted for the telly and still my History text remained untouched like a forgotten relic. After the last show ended, it was bedtime and my eyes were just too tired to battle on. And it was then that I had the most brilliant idea. I was going to attempt to cheat on the test.

And so armed with my foolscape and pen, I forged out my best handwriting. Small and nimble they were such that Tom Thumb would be proud of. Vital pieces of information that spans 3 chapters is now tucked sweetly into bed in just a single piece of paper. Contented with my 'studying' I knocked out with a smile.

On my way to school, I see students with faces buried in their texts. Some were still scrawling on little pieces of info to aid in their studying. I just shook my head and laughed. Before the commencement of the test, they were asking each other, "Eh you got study this or not? Wah Lau! I never study this leh". Then the other retorted, "You die ah! Teacher say this one CONFIRM come out!". Then he starts rummaging through his text again. But of course it is of no use at this point of time. I just tucked my pocket gently to see if my ticket to an A grade is still there.

The invigilator pranced up and down the aisle like a night watchmen as he gave out the test papers faced down. As soon as he gave out mine and his back is facing me, I skillfully took out the paper, unfolded it and placed it in between the test papers in a single motion. The naked eye could never see the foreign object between the test papers. Smart. Brilliance.

And so I did the test referring to my personal little helper whenever I had the opportunity. I was done within an hour and never felt this satisfied before. Of course I got my A grade....and many more A's will be waiting for me unless.....