The New Housemate

"Dei, Kugan" Mike said, fighting his gag reflex as he took a shot of cheap whiskey. "What's up with your bathroom door?"

"What bathroom door?" Kugan grinned cheekily.

"Exactly." Mike said. "Your bathroom doesn't seem to have a door."

The living room of the squatter house was completely void of furniture. The two young men sat cross legged on the cement floor. Between them were a bucket of ice cubes, a liter of Club 99 and a bag of spicy murukku. A laptop in front of them blasted Tamil music videos, unnoticed.

"I woke up one morning with a monster hangover and no money," Kugan reminisced. "It was so bad, I honestly thought I was gonna die here, macha..."

"But thankfully," he gestured heavenward. "I heard a voice call, 'Sau-kau-po-chi... sau-kau-po-chi...' God appeared in the form of a paper lama lorry. So I sold the aluminum door and used the money to buy beer."

Mike was pretty sure that if you picked up the Kamus Dewan Edisi ke-5 and looked up the phrase 'keling mabuk', there'd be an illustration of Kugan there.

"You're a fabulous guy, Maik! (it sounded less gay in Tamil, believe me)" Kugan announced, raising his coffee mug of Club 99. "Housemates for life! (this one sounds just as gay in any language)"

For life? Mike just agreed to temporarily stay with Kugan because it was cheap. The landlord only came to collect the rent if he remembered - that means when he ran out of cash for heroin. The water supply was tapped from a pipe at the nearby junction. And there was enough activity going on in the neighbourhood that you didn't need an Astro Tamil Box Office subscription.

Kugan's mug was still in the air, waiting to be acknowledged, so Mike raised his own coffee mug.
"For life." Some housewarming party this was.

At this point in the story, dearest reader, I need to mention that what happened next is a complete blur to both Mike and I. The last thing that Mike remembers clearly is the sudden sound of objects being moved about in the kitchen of the house.

Impulsively, Mike pounced to his feet and dashed toward the back of the house. The kitchen was pitch black, except for the moonlight streaming in through the back door, which was surprisingly open. And in the doorway, there it was.

A tall skinny silhouette stood at the doorway, peering inside. Mike, not sure if it was because of his astigmatism or the alcohol, couldn't make out any of the person's features.

"Hoi!!" Mike yelled.

The intruder let out a strange animal-like laugh and took off into the shrubs behind the house. And again, Mike can't be sure if what he saw next was because of the alcohol, but it seemed like the dude had a strange way of running - almost like he was drifting across the ground.

Liquor courage up to his ears, Mike was determined to give chase. Just then, he felt his arm being grabbed and he was pulled back.

"No, macha," Kugan said. "Don't chase."

"Who was that?!" Mike yelled, as he finally began to feel the cold panic rise up from the pit of his stomach.

"Who?" Kugan repeated. "That's not human, macha..."

Housemates for life, indeed. Mike moved out the next day.

The Romantic Spot

"I've lived on this island my whole life," she said, leaning forward against the railing. "But I never imagined this place existed."

Mike noticed her slight shiver from the freezing wind, so he pulled her closer.

Down below to their right, a string of street lights stretched neatly from one end of the sea to the other, connecting the island to the mainland. The bridge never failed to take Mike's breath away every time he saw it from up here.

To their left, an aeroplane gently streaked along the runway and began to majestically ascend into the night sky.

"You know," Mike said. "I actually wanted to be a pilot."

"Really??" she said, in mock surprise. "...I guess I didn't remember the first fourteen times you told me."

He playfully pushed her away, and she laughed, smacking his arm.

And just then, a jumbo jet flew so low over their heads, she swore they could have reached up and touched it. They watched in silence as the roar of the engines gradually faded, and the huge aircraft receded into the sky.

"I love watching planes," Mike said.

"I don't know," she said, wrapping her arms around his torso. "...They make me sad."

"How come?"

"It... It feels like somebody's going away..."

Silence. The wing lights of the jumbo jet disappeared among the stars.


"Or maybe they're going home."

Taken aback, she looked up at him. His soft eyes gazed back. What was it about him that always made her feel like a little girl again? Slightly embarrassed, she nuzzled her nose against his chest.

"That scent you're wearing," she noticed. "What is it?"

"That's high octane," Mike replied.

"High Octane? Is that the new Calvin Klien?"

"No, not Calvin Klien... Caltex"

She looked puzzled.

"I was filling up my tank on the way here and I accidentally got petrol on my shirt."

She stepped back away from him. No more cuddling for Mike tonight.