How I met my father (back)

To fill in the missing gap in my previous post, I'll tell you this. The story of how I met my father after some years separated from him.

It was a picnic. In the jungle near the river. Lumut, Brunei. There was me, Mum, Jeffrey, my Aunt(who just lost her husband, read previous posts), her daughter, and some of their friends, probably drinking buddies. Well, more like a BBQ. They brought marinated chicken wings, pork(the meat which I never like, it makes me puke I believed, and so my Mum never fed me pork again) , fishes, and some fried rice or such. Beers and alcoholic drinks are aplenty.

I just watched them. I was lying down, with a gas lighter in my hand. I like how it sounds so I put it in my ear. Suddenly it feels funny. When I got up, I lost my balance. I fell and I cried. Mum blow my left ears and it all becomes better. I got hold of myself moments later. I never cried for a long time. I don't want to annoy people, especially Jeffrey. I am holding down my tears as a kid.

I walked to this girl, I think she is younger than me. I just sat there, saying nothing. I don't know how to speak to people other than my Mum and the teacher. In a flash, she held my hand, and drag me running with her. For a moment it was a rush of adrenaline. Then we realized we are lost. I called for Mum but no answer. The girl started to cry. I held her in my arms and wait. Surely those adults would not leave us here in this jungle.

It was almost night. Lumut is quite near to the ocean, so we can see the red sky. Some of those guys found us. She cried, I didn't. Then when we arrived at the BBQ base, my Mum ran at me and hold me tightly. A voice yelled not long after. "Take care of your son b****!". It was Jeffrey. He hold a 2 X 2 plywood in his hand. I don't see the swing, but I heard it hitting my Mum's hand. She was protecting me. She broke her third finger metacarpal and fractured others in that hand. Jeffrey was drunk....and violent. The other guys hold him down, but still he rages. My aunt brought my Mum and me to the roadside.

A stranger's car stopped. We went to the hospital. All the way to the hospital, my Mum cried, but all I can do is hugging her. Then I fell asleep. When I woke up, I smelled a familiar scent. Smell of concrete. And a man standing in front of me. I was still holding my aunt's hand. Then he opened his arm, an invitation for me to come with him. Like hypnotized, I walked towards him. And he hugged me, carrying me in his arm. But I don't speak a word to him. Neither did he.

Before he went to work the next morning, he asked me, in English "Stay here or with people?". What he meant was do I want to stay at home alone or be in the care of the neighbour in front of the house. I stayed alone, watching tv. There was a doodle I did on the wall. The first time I hold a pencil in my hand. I remember the home. I miss it. And I miss Dad too.

Some days later, we went to the hospital. Mum looks sad, and shy. My aunt carried me to the cafeteria, leaving my Mum and Dad alone. Adults matter. I was probably 7 years old.

Later.