It was not a surprise that the goodbye was short and simple. I trailed dad’s car with my little eyes as it gradually build up speed downhill. The road meandered lazily along the hilly slope towards the guard house which was tucked conveniently behind the lovely bed of flowers and small manicured trees that welcome visitors to my new school or home. I did felt alone and abandoned but I was very sure that it would not be for long.
A little less than an hour before, we arrived unceremoniously at the school compounds and we soon joined the small queue to register my name in the school books. The name tag read as Rani Mokhtar, whom I assumed would be the name of that serious looking man behind the desk. There was no smiles nor did he frowned as I mentioned my name. A quick check through the list and I was soon sorted out. I was given a tag that reads as, Room 1B2 class 1 Omega.
We were shown through a gate that led to 2 blocks of building. I soon got to know that the number 1 was referring to 1st floor, B for block B and 2 for room number 2. Something a little bit complicated for a 12 year old mind but comprehensive enough. Dad carried the suitcase up the stairs as I trailed nervously behind him, hurriedly but not running. Dad put on his stern matter of fact face, probably wondering what mom had packed in the heavy suitcase or he was just probably a little tensed with the situation. Many little unfamiliar faces greeted us as we entered 1B2, and many anxious parents were also visible. We soon got to know that we could freely choose any bed that was stillunoccupied. I chose the one in the corner, beside the windows. The lower deck had some stuffs on it so, it left me with the upper deck which I really fancied. Surprisingly there was not much chatter between the little kids and parents and the mood was somber and calm. Dad left, no hugs no dramas. He just drove away.
Many weeks before that, mom showed me a letter that approved our application for me to be in boarding school after the primarys. To mom and dad, it was an opportunity that could provide good education for their eldest son, to me it was a ‘get out of jail free’ card. I had always wanted to be in a boarding school, inspired by tales and misadventures of the Hardy Boys and tales from the Enid Blytons’ books that lined the shelves in my room since I was 7.
There was this little malay boy perched on the lower deck of my double decker. Sobbing softly as he unfolded his clothes taken out from a small worn out bag. His little feet barely touching the cold floor, and he quickly looked away when I approached the double decker bed. I pretended not to notice his tears as we shook our little hands and introduced our names. It was amazing how we suddenly grew up, from two little boys who had been shielded from the wrath of the world by the adults we called mom and dad, we now had nobody but ourselves. That sobbing little boy, hiding his tears, ashamed that he had to shed tears, would have to trust me, and trust was all we had, in order to survive.I felt no fear as I was left alone there, unpacking my clothes and stuffs into the wooden locker. I was then on my own, freefrom the usual set of rules and order at home, free to do what I please, free to be me, at least that was what I thought. .. But I was so wrong. – EP
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