“Look
out, Raju, look out!” cried Rafique as he grabbed Raju’s seat with both hands. He
was hanging on to dear life as Raju’s old rusty bicycle went out of control.
They were going down a dark hill at full speed. Rafique grunted at every pothole
that the bicycle thrashes through! Raju tried to press the breaks, there was a
loud clank as the bicycle chain broke. Rafique yelped from behind. To hell with
machoism! He bear hugged his friend’s waist, ignoring his cries,
“Ayo, ayoo,Fique, let go! I’m
ticklish laa!”
The old bicycle
lamp in front flickered on and off as it sped down. Through the dim light
Rafique could make out a figure, long hair and terrified eyes. It didn’t move
or run, it just stood there paralyzed.
Rafique closed his eyes and prayed.
“Please let it not be a ghost,
please let it not be a ghost. I’ll never miss my prayers ever again” said Rafique cowardly in his heart. The two boys were
returning from a football match. They had played far after the sun had set and
the cry of azan Maghrib[1] had
long finished from the nearby mosque. It wasn’t proper for a Muslim to be
outside during the fourth period of prayers as it was during that time that
‘syaitan’ or evil spirits roam the streets.
“Argggh!” cried both the boys as
their bicycle lamps flickered out. Raju managed to turn a little of the handle
to the right but it wasn’t enough to avoid the figure in front. He could feel
his body hit the figure hard as they pass through it. Raju lost control of the
bicycle.
“Arrrrggghh!” cried the boys a
second time as the bicycle wobbled and plunge into a rubber estate, heading
directly towards a large rubber tree!
With all his strength Raju jerked
the handle and the bicycle moved away from the tree and into a bush of sharp
ferns. The boys toppled off the bicycle onto the [2]pokok semalu’ growing wildly on the
ferns!
There were cuts
and bruises on both of the boys but they were alive. Raju’s poor bicycle was a
complete rack. The crossbar was badly dented; the bicycle looked like it was
broken in to pieces.
Painfully, the
two boys walked to the street, towards the scene of the accident. There was no
streetlight and all that could guide them to the still figure in the middle of
the street was the light from the full moon above them.
Shivering
both the boys approached slowly, feet trembling and hearts thumping. The two of
them could see that the figure was a woman; wearing a flowery [3]baju kurung. She was lying on her side,
with her long hair covering her face. Gently Raju turned her around.
It was a young woman, around 20 to
23, predicted Rafique. Not much older from the both of them. Her eyes were
closed tight. Raju put his finger underneath her nostril. He couldn’t feel any
air. He tried to find her pulse. He looked up at Rafique and shook his head.
“Did we kill her?” asked Rafique
worriedly. Raju didn’t answer.
“What is that?” asked Rafique
pointing to her abdomen. Raju looked at where Rafique was pointing. There was a
bulge at her abdomen. Shakily, Raju put his hand on the bulge and like someone
putting his hand in fire he quickly withdrew it.
Rafique was
shaking like a leaf.
“She’s pregnant isn’t she? We killed
a pregnant woman! She’s going to comeback from the dead and become a [4]Pontianak and will hunt us for the rest
of our lives!” cried Rafique, hysterically. Raju looked up at his friend and
wished that he could shake him. He loved Rafique like a brother but his wild
imagination wasn’t helping them. Raju was thinking what they were supposed to
do when a car came down the steep hill. Before either one of them could move, a
honk bellowed and the car stopped beside them. A man came out of the car.
“What have you done?” asked the man.
“Abang!” There was a scream. ……………….
No comments:
Post a Comment