Creatures of the Heart

AT THE BRIDGE

Him

I have never seen the Penang Bridge from afar at night. This famous landmark of my hometown is indeed a beauty after dark. From a distance, the bridge seems ablaze with all the golden lights which line its concrete structure. The long bridge resembles two dragon heads bobbing just above the surface of the Straits of Malacca - two ancient creatures on their nightly rendezvous after all humanity has gone to sleep. The protruding poles at the mid-section of the bridge are their antennas feeling each other out in a loving embrace. The two beasts are locked in a long kiss, displaying their affection for the world to see and yet hidden in perfect disguise.

Tonight, however, I am unable to witness such a loving scene as I sit atop one of the dragon's heads, its long whiskers of steel cables just a few feet away from where I am. I park myself on the concrete slab of the railing as I stare at the open water. The dark shimmering liquid reflects the bright lights of the bridge which flicker and dance like a million fireflies. I don't know whether it is the mesmerising effects of the rippling water or the hour of the night but I feel stoned and a little woozy.

It is just after 3 in the morning and this is the first time I have been to the bridge at this hour. All is not as quiet as you would have imagined. Cars and motorcycles zip past at intervals but none of them stop. Nobody would in their right mind stop to check on someone sitting on the railing of a bridge at that witching hour no matter how curious they are. That's because most Asians are superstitious and many would have heard tales of apparitions at that hour on highways and bridges. I know no one will stop and I am comforted by that thought.

As I sit here with my skin slowly turning numb from the whipping sea breeze, a sense of calm which I had not felt for a long time spread through my senses. I want to stay frozen in this moment for as long as I can but I know reality is waiting in the wings, ready to drown me at any moment. My subconscious is always reminding me of the moral degradation of my real life but my conscience refuse to acknowledge it.

To an outsider, I must look like a statue. I wish I could be a statue, no emotions, no memories. As hard as I try not to think, the currents of my existence keep washing up reality on my shore of consciousness, forcing me to confront the mess I have created. My demons will not leave me alone. The only escape I can think of is to jump – but here I sit, unmoving as though willing time to stand still.

I don't know how long I have been sitting there before I hear the sound of a car door closing nearby but I do not turn to check. Perhaps it is just a traveller trying to take a breather after a long drive, I tell myself. Whoever it is, I don't care.

I sense someone approaching. I am about to open my mouth to tell the person to go away when I see a pair of legs crossing over the railing at the corner of my eyes. Within seconds, those legs wearing a pair of white and blue striped sneakers which I am all too familiar with are dangling just a few inches from my own feet. My body stiffens.

What is she doing here? How did she find me?

"I didn't think it would look so nice out here at night," she says.

I remain silent.

"Remember our first trip to Penang? Just after we got married. I was like a san pa lao then. First time seeing the Penang Bridge and tasting the famous cha kuey teow, rojak, assam laksa and ikan bakar. The first time is always the best," she continues.

No reply.

She sighs and watches the water for a while. We do not look at each other. We just sit there like two statues condemned to eternity.

"I am sorry," I say at long last. The words almost blown away by the early morning draft, but I know she heard them as I look at her for the first time since she arrived.