Mun Mai

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A red Mercedes-Benz stopped in front of the small wooden house, jarringly out of place in the old village. The clean-shaven man in the front passenger seat eyed the house and said, "I'm not sure-"

"Come on, Ken. Don't you want to find out what's bothering your sister?" the driver said as she checked her makeup in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, but..."

"I know, I think this summoning-the-dead thing is crap too. But my aunt swore by it, and according to her, this woman comes highly recommended for mun mai*. Anyway, it's hot in here, I'm getting out."

Jin Len got out and looked around without much interest. She walked towards the house surrounded by shrubbery. It had a green door flanked by two windows. The scenery reminded Ken of a child's drawing. The only thing missing was the happy children playing outside the house. It was just a little too surreal.

Before Jin Len could knock on the door, a young girl opened it and greeted her. Jin Len turned to look at Ken in the car and raised her left eyebrow. He guessed what she was thinking – the girl knew the exact moment they had arrived, spooky.

Ken rolled his eyes and immediately came up with a logical explanation in his head. The girl was expecting them. When she heard the car and saw them through the window, she opened the door. There was no turning back now. He grabbed the package under his seat and joined Jin Len at the door.

They were ushered into what appeared to be the living room. Stepping into that space was like travelling back in time for Ken. The clicking of Jin Len's high heel shoes on the concrete floor sounded just like the clogs his mother had worn when he was a child. A box television, the type that belonged in a museum, stood facing three rattan chairs and a table at one corner of the room. The girl named Mei Mei asked them to sit and wait.

"This is so 70s," Jin Len said after Mei Mei was out of earshot. She blabbered on about the interior décor but Ken wasn't listening. He could only stare at his reflection in the grey television screen - distorted and disfigured.

The rattan chair creaked as he shifted his weight. He could almost see the television come alive, playing his favourite cartoon from his childhood days, Old Master Q. Strangely, it was the first time he had felt at home since his return to Malaysia two months ago.

"Ken! Mei Mei is talking to you," Jin Len's voice rang beside him.

Ken snapped back to reality. Mei Mei was smiling at him. "You want to contact your mother, right? I need her full name, place of birth, date of death and burial address," she sounded like a florist taking down the details for a delivery.

"Oh! Lim Foong Nui, born in Batu Berendam, Melaka, died on 18 July, and buried in Bukit China."

After writing down the information in a long, rectangular piece of white paper, Mei Mei led them through a door leading to an altar. The space was well-lit, unlike what Ken had imagined. A statue of the Goddess of Mercy sat peacefully behind an urn with joss sticks, oil lamps, and offerings of flowers and fruits on the wooden altar. Just a few feet away from the altar, a woman sat on a stool at a table, her eyes closed. She did not move or speak when they entered.

The girl gestured for them to join the woman at the table. Then, she took the package that Ken had brought with him and arranged its content on red plastic plates – two eggs, some rice and three apples and oranges each. After that, she placed the piece of paper alongside the items on the table and took an oil lamp from the altar to put before the woman. Without another word, she left the room.

A veil of silence wrapped around the room, cutting out any sound from beyond the walls. The whisper of their breaths filled the air and mingled with tendrils of smoke, snaking lazily away from the burning joss sticks. An invisible weight lifted from his shoulders and Ken began to relax. He looked over at Jin Len and found her staring ahead serenely, not her usual antsy self. She must have felt the peace too.

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