I give the bedcover a hard jerk. It ripples like a wave that ingurgitates the mattress in its silky embrace. A glance around the room shows just about every nook and cranny to be spick and span.
Before I leave, my eyes linger on the photo sitting on the little bedside table. It's an old picture from when my husband and I were still dating, and we were at the beach. He looked like a model with gorgeous brown curls, leaning back to boast a chiselled chest and abs, pressing his hands on the ground beside him so that his biceps tensed and bulged. In the picture, I'm bending over him with my tongue stuck out and almost touching his body. Want to know something? Cygnus was never a model. The moment my husband graduated from the University of California, Berkeley, he became an astrophysicist. A really hot one.
I smile a little as I close the door behind me.
"Shane!" I call.
My smile takes twice as fast to abscond. Somehow, my six year old boy's in the kitchen, standing on a chair, hands wrapped around a jar of peanut butter. The door to the top shelf has been left egregiously ajar. Needless to say, his face is smeared with the gooey substance. He stares with big glassy eyes, shocked by the monster that is me. The jar releases from his hands and shatters on the floor as anticipated.
I shut my eyes and suck in a deep breath. And count to ten seconds.
"Didn't I tell you not to f...reaking stand on a chair? What if you fall!" I pat myself on the back for cramming the swear word back into my mouth in time.
I scoop my son up from the chair and glare at the mess on the floor. That will have to wait till I get back. Stepping over the accident site, I snatch the bag of herbs from the kitchen counter and flee the house.
"Get in the car," I say fiercely, and Shane toddles over to get in the back seat.
As we drive to the florist's, I look in the mirror and notice that Shane has evidences of the accident stuck to his hands and mouth. To my horror, he's licking his fingers, smiling like, well, like a devious seven year old.
"Oh my god - Shane!" Instantly horrified, I grab the tissue box and pass it behind. "Stop licking yourself! Are you an animal? Clean your fingers and mouth. Now."
If Cygnus were with us now, he'd be the cool dad as usual. I'd be told 'Shane's just a kid'. And then Shane would just continue loving him more than me.
When my son finishes, I pass him my iPad to distract him. He once unlocked the door while I was driving, and I shrieked as it flew open. Thankfully the road had been quiet, so he failed to become a murderer.
Miraculously, even though he's just six, he operates the iPad better than he can read. It's another side effect of Cygnus' pampering.
Podgy fingers start tapping the screen deliriously, and I peek at Shane periodically through the rear view mirror. Precocious and sensitive, he would feel awkward if he notices me looking at him.
I try not to be that irascible Asian father all the time. Instead of only pressing for fewer B's and more A's, I now allow Shane to pursue art classes.
Chinese love, while tough, is in no way inferior to that of Americans. We end up equipping our children with numerous skills for the callous world out there. And yet we are always the ones too afraid to let go.
__________
AM I seriously having him for a roommate? That was the first thing that flitted into my mind as I looked at that boy with disdain.
Twenty-six minutes and forty-two seconds. That's how long he Skyped with his mother for. On the first day of school. Yay! I got a mummy's boy for a roommate. Of course, he's Chinese. Eleven claps for the man above, please.
The only thing missing to complete his nerdy Asian look was a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.
"Dude," I said. "It's the first day of school. There's no need to get all mummy's boy. Just yet. Do you always hold her hand in public back in China? I mean...I do know Chinese kids tend to get pretty sticky with their parents."
I grinned, thinking that the Asian must be at his wit's end. They usually are horrible at arguments.
"Do you speak English? Because I wonder how you got into UC Berkeley if you, umm..."
I spared that miserable creature another glance before returning to my game, only to see him rolling his eyes at me. All was well, but it was only the calm before the storm.
"I think that question would work very well in a self-interrogation. But since you're keeping silent now, I'll do the asking. How did you get into Berkeley?"
Alright, so he spoke English, just with that accent that didn't sound like an accent at all.
"Not all Chinese come from China, dumbass. I'm actually from Singapore. And secondly, it's really common for us to consult with our parents. That's because of the values inculcated in our society."
Wait, what? Was he saying that Americans have no values?
"I wonder how you got past the admissions officer with such an inadequate worldview," he said scathingly, brandishing a sneer.
I froze, my gaze suspended on him. Nope, no luck of a witty comeback from me.
"In case you start thinking my name's Ching Chong or something with two words, it's Benjamin."
With a contemptuous glare, he slammed the door behind him.
It was no surprise I was already sculpting an argument that slamming of doors probably didn't correlate with Chinese values. To lasso him down from his high moral horse later.
Yeah, I know I was a prick.
I casted furtive glances around. Word that I was owned by this oddball must never get out.
Wait a minute.
I looked back down. "Shit!" I had lost my game.
Treasure was laid before me, and all I could care about then was World of Warcraft. I say treasure, because Benjamin was brilliant. Without any lessons at all, he taught me how to fall in love.
__________
YOUR attention must never waver when your child is around breakable objects. Ice-cream in hand, Shane totters around the shop, picking out flowers to create a bouquet. I follow him like he's mother goose, ensuring he doesn't bump into any one of those menacing looking vases.
The last time he chose a gift for Cygnus, my husband was euphoric. I bore the brunt of it, because all night long, Cygnus bragged to me about our son's intelligence. Which, by the way, is obviously imparted to him by me.
My silly husband surprised me by wearing that white tie adorned with red unicorn prints, three times in a week. No matter how many times I ridiculed him, he continued donning it to work proudly.
That was the end of it. I never let Shane pick the gifts again. At least not in a shop like Hermes or Bally, where the cheapest thing is in the thousands.
But today's Valentine's Day, and flowers are much more affordable, so little Shane gets to pick something out for his father. Besides, Shane's proving to be quite the floral aficionado.
"I want this, Daddy," he announces, pointing at some sunflowers. He gives me that innocent look with oh so pinchable cheeks. "Two. And then four of that one."
"Do you think Dad will like it?" I bend down and ask him. By the way, I'm Daddy, Cygnus is Dad.
Shane's eyes roll up to the right as he thinks. I very vaguely remember smartass Cygnus telling me that's because the right side of the brain is responsible for visualizing events, while the left side handles memories.
His brows are furrowed, and his lips pursed tightly in thought, so that his cheeks pop out rosily.
Urgh, I'm resisting the urge to give his cheeks a little pinch. But America has funny laws on child abuse, and I'm not giving the florist a chance to send me to jail. Or Child Services a chance to abduct my son.
"Yes," Shane says with utmost conviction and three nods of his head.
His bouquet is turning out lovely. Five roses here, some forget-me-nots there, and a touch of lavenders and lilies to spruce it up. When the florist hands it to me, I'm pleasantly surprised.
And a little smug, because this proves Asian-style parenting doesn't necessarily equate to unequivocally boring and robotic kids.
I look at the bouquet with longing. Cygnus would love the innocence and wildness behind it. He was never bound by conformity. And only he would wear a tie with unicorns, or don a Superman suit to the mall for our son's amusement. I once told him teasingly that love blinded him to see what he had become. He responded in all seriousness that love had opened his eyes to who he wanted to be.
A awesome father to Shane, and a fantastic husband to me.
The price of the bouquet is $267.90. "So Shane, your bouquet here costs $267.90. I'm giving the florist $300. How much change should I get?"
I suck in a deep breath and try to give him a look that doesn't look like a warning glare.
He squeezes his eyes shut and taps a finger on either side of his head earnestly. For that cuteness, I might pardon myself if he gets it wrong. Oh, I say pardon myself because I see it to be my responsibility to guide him through simple math.
But he doesn't go wrong, of course. We've gone through simple addition and subtraction hundreds of times at home.
"$32.10," he says.
The florist almost reels in disbelief, and I kiss Shane's soft black hair. I act like it's nothing, and that every six year old should be able to do this. Which they should.
Yet, when we're out of the shop, I promise to buy him the Guardians of the Galaxy Lego set. And I throw a few Elsa dolls into the deal. Apparently they're for the Guardians to kill.
"Yes!" Shane's eyes light up with glee and he hugs me. I'm so happy I don't try to pull his head away from a forbidden area.
Something tells me doll heads will be on the floor the next day. Arms too, maybe.
"Alright buddy, now we have art class."
We walk in silence for a little while, then, "Daddy, I don't like Mrs Fanny."
My ears perk up. "Why?"
"She told me watermelons can't be squares."
"Ignore her. We saw them for ourselves, didn't we?"
Two years ago, Cygnus and I took Shane to Japan, where we saw square-shaped watermelons. They only happen if you grow them in boxes.
I set the bouquet down gently on the empty seat beside me, remind Shane to buckle his seatbelt, and then I drive. I just drive, like always. Sometimes in a daze, sometimes with urgency, sometimes happily. I just go on.
__________
"STAR student, huh?" Eleanor said, arching a brow.
"I'm not. Professor Jacoby's obviously joking."
I remember that day. I was bored stiff sitting at the back of the lecture theatre hearing the teacher go through the answers to a test I already got an A in. You either talked to friends and distracted them, or you learned to distract yourself.
I excelled at the latter.
"How the shit do you do this, by the way?" Eleanor hissed, snatching my paper over. I heard her whisper "oh my god you're a freak" as she pored over my solution.
I'm not bragging, but people were always shocked at my proclivity for solving extra hard math questions. But I hated when the professor branded me a prodigy or star student.
What was shocking to me, though, was how he'd been flunking. He, of course, referred to Benjamin. News got tossed around that his father passed away recently. His grades did not go on a downward spiral; they took a bungee jump. And that's when he was one of the most brilliant people I knew.
I couldn't peel my eyes away from his forlorn expression, even though he sat at the other side of the lecture theatre. Eleanor saw me staring blankly at him and tapped my shoulder.
"Are you ok?"
"No."
"Wait, why are you staring at Benjamin so intently? Thinking of making a sex tape with him?" she nudged me playfully.
I didn't like how she insulted Benjamin. I turned so fast that her eyes widened and glowed like reflections of the moon on glassy water. "Shut - the hell up."
When I looked away, there was a sharp intake a breath to be heard. I instantly sighed and regretted my action. Eleanor was one of my best friends. Besides, I felt like such a hypocrite. I had done many things in Benjamin's name that may or may not have involved picturing him in rather...vulnerable positions.
One of the worst things you can do is to drive a wedge between your crush and your best friend. I was afraid I just made Eleanor hate Benji to the core.
When the lecture ended, she made a show of throwing her pencil case into her bag and slamming my math paper against my chest.
"Excuse me, Mr Walters," she said curtly as I tried to stop her in vain.
Love puts you in a drunken stupor. I didn't even chase after her. I just stared at Benji as he crushed his math paper and cried. No, not cried. He was always too strong for that. He merely blinked while tears streamed down his face soundlessly.
Usually, when you dislike something you see, you tend to turn the other way. But I couldn't. Once again my gaze was suspended upon him, each passing second cutting another graze onto my heart.
Without thought, I took step after step towards the other end of the theatre. When he looked up, I realised I was still at a loss of what to do.
"Why are you crying?" I said the first thing that popped into my mind.
It dawned on me how much like a douche I sounded, like someone getting ready to be a bully.
Benji gave a mirthless little laugh. "Wow."
"I'm not trying to annoy you or anything," I said hurriedly. "I just wanted to say that you're smart. And everyone knows that."
It was impossible to elucidate my distress when his expression contorted into a blaze of fury. "I can't believe you're being so sarcastic," he said bitingly. "And to think I thought you were actually a nice person. Guess it's always delightful to witness your opponent's downfall. You're the only now who does the bonus questions, aren't you, Cygnus Walters. How does it feel? Getting called the star student." He spat those last two words venomously.
It means nothing if you hate me like that, I meant to tell him.
"No - Benji, I wasn't being sarcastic at all. What I'm trying to say is, you're awesome at Literature. You can always consider taking a Bachelor of Arts degree. Even if one door closes for you, there are many more still open. Because you're that good."
I watched as his face metamorphosed between shades of emotions. He must have been doubting my intentions. He'd only ever seen quirky and cheeky Cygnus.
My desperation rode through me full throttle. I hated that he didn't feel good about himself.
"I guess I don't have a choice now," he said hoarsely, and warily. He didn't believe I could be so vulnerable. "I'm getting out of here. You can go back and continue studying about blackholes."
"No - wait! Follow me."
"Why should I?"
I lifted my hand instinctively to wipe the tears off his face. It was in the nick of time that I pretended to rub my eyes.
"Because it's 7pm and the sun's about to set. I bet you've never seen a sunset before. If you're not cooped up in your room studying, you're in the common room writing."
I took a risk by simply walking away. It would have been the epitome of embarrassments had he decided not to follow me. But he did. Of course, right? He liked me too.
I knew that because I once stumbled upon something on his desk.
I led him to my secret study den. The little patch of grass around a great oak tree at the back of the campus. It was secluded, and nope, don't start thinking dirty.
We sat on the grass. Benji softly caressed the oak tree. He was always so docile and sensitive. And such a dreamer. Sometimes he'd be in his own world.
The sun was just beginning to retire, stretching its warm fingers over the earth for the last few minutes for the day. Splendid orange hues interlaced with shades of bubblegum pink and regal gold, streaking across the backdrop of a darkening blue canvas. The swirl of colours danced behind clouds, making them glow like lanterns.
Benji marveled at the beauty all around him, while I casted secret glances at the beauty that was him. I let the silence linger in the air for thirty seconds. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.
"It's lovely, isn't it?" His voice was full of wonder.
"It is. But why did you lure me out here?"
"I think it's time for you to stop reading and writing about other peoples' lives and start leading your own," I told him wryly.
He smiled shyly in return. He always had that boy-next-door look about him. Curiously, it was a look I favoured over drop-dead-gorgeous. "Why do you care?"
My heart did a double flip. He must have been flirting.
I tried not to detonate in excitement. "I saw something on your desk once. I'm guessing it was a quote."
"That sounds suspiciously liable for suing for invasion of privacy, but first, what is it?"
I grinned goofily. "Stars, hide your fires. Let not light see my black and deep desires." I said it dramatically, inciting a blush from Benji. "It was written in a scrawl, you know, like when you're tired from studying too much and start doodling on anything you can get. Except that your doodle is a quote, since you're a little more amazing than the normal person."
Benji's face was tinged red, flushed and rosy. He looked a little panicked. "Macbeth."
He was blushing.
Thanks, I thought cheekily. For confirming that you like me. And thank you, oh, thank you, man upstairs.
I decided there and then to take things ten steps further.
"Try describing love to me," I said.
Benji didn't look at me as he replied, "I can't. Trying to define it would probably result in epic failure, because it is that special, and that's what makes it so valuable. Simply put, love is beyond words."
Lovely response from a lovely person. But I had him beat. I was going to win this boy over once and for all.
"You know what makes it all the more precious?" I asked, feeling sick from the churning of my insides. It felt like I was taking a test I could not afford to fail. "We can all create lists of criteria for our future partners. We can even find people who fit them. But most of the time, they end up not being who we're looking for. Love is more than an experiment in which you try to fulfill all conditions. Through a game of dice with the odds a million to one, it's either there or it's not. Love, beyond science and words, is too rare, Benjamin. And I don't want to let it go once I think I've found it."
Oh. My. God. I just told him all that nonsense. And there was no reclaiming my words. But crap that! I had wanted him to know for a long time.
Benji just stared wistfully into the distance and all I could think of was how I had screwed up. I tried haplessly to catch a hint of emotion from his blank expression.
"Me neither. And what you said...it was beautiful." His expression softened to one I'd never seen before. The kind that made me want to whisper that he was so beautiful.
Oh boy, he stole my breath and I wanted to steal something of his.
My eyes must have widened twice it's normal size. I looked at Benji, and he looked at me. In that moment, soft pinkish sunlight streamed down his face and filtered out all his walls and insurmountable perfections, leaving him raw and sunkissed and illuminated. I wanted. I wanted. I needed
to kiss him.
"Do you know why my parents named me Cygnus?"
"Why?"
"My mother said that when she gave birth to me, the pain was so great, all she saw was a blanket of gleaming stars raining down before her eyes. So she named me after one. Cygnus OB2-12. And I - I..." I tensed, every nerve in my body tingling callously. "I know we didn't start on a good note, but you are like a planet. You have such strong gravitas, Benji, and I couldn't stop myself from being like a moon revolving around you." My voice faltered, and I was so afraid I would start crying. "We have wasted months, Benji. I don't want to go on acting like you don't matter. Because you matter too much. Don't you like me too?"
Benjamin was crying again, and he looked remarkably flawless that way. I could barely hold back as he gave the smallest of nods.
"I used to wonder how many guys you've kissed before, and I got jealous. Then I realised I was being foolish by minding your past. But I still get possessive and selfish when it comes to you, Benji. I want your present and future so badly."
My tears found release at last, but like Benji, I didn't sob. It was almost as if my heart was aching too much for that.
"I love you," he said. It was a ghost of a whisper, barely there, yet echoing in every bit of me. "I've never kissed anyone before. And I...I'm a virgin."
I give a little laugh as something in me leaps up in joy. We'd won each other over. Then and there, our hearts weren't ours to give anymore.
And in tandem, we leaned forward like a pair of lovebirds. I had waited for that moment for the longest time. Perhaps he had, too. Benji's head hovered tentatively as he neared mine, his eyelashes fluttering shyly. I closed the gap between our heads. Our noses brushed lightly against one another's, and my heart was beating so hard as we looked into each other's eyes. In his, I saw our happy ending.
Oh, I loved him.
And then I felt his curved lips meet mine, bringing me to a land where the thrushes sang and the trees were full of candy.
__________
"BUT this isn't fair! She's mean!" says Shane as he gets off the car reluctantly. Of course, little children can't be trusted when they're portraying their teachers as horrible witches.
"If I hear another complaint against Mrs Fanny, I'll stop all art classes, ok? And then you'll stay at home all day solving problem sums with me."
It turns out that Mrs Fanny isn't quite the monster I expected. I had been picturing a mean woman with blond hair tied in a messy bun, who doesn't bathe for days and takes pleasure in causing grievous hurt to children. Yet there she is, a few feet away, a gorgeous young brunette.
I'm flabbergasted when she waves at Shane and he simply ignores her, striding into the art centre for all the arrogance he's worth.
She doesn't seem to mind, but I do. Had Shane been my mother's son, she would have slapped him a couple of times. Being his grandmother, though, all she ever does is spoil him.
I pass Mrs Fanny with my head held low. Asian parent and unruly child don't really fit together in my opinion.
Inside, my little tyrant has started grabbing at crayons and large pieces of paper to draw on. I scoot over to him.
"Shane," I say in a low voice, and he looks at me with that innocent face. Sometimes I really wonder if it's a trick of his.
"Daddy, should I dwaw something for Dad?" he asks, taking little sniffs in between his words.
"Shane, it's draw, not dwaw. Say it."
"Draw," he repeats absent-mindedly while using the black crayon furiously.
"So what are you going to - wait, is this me?" I point to a face.
He affirms it with a nod, beaming.
"Why is my face black?"
At this, Shane produces the cutest reaction ever. He hunches up his shoulders and giggles, covering his mouth with a hand. His other hand points at my face.
I'm beginning to wonder if this is Shane's way of saying there's forever a black cloud hanging over my head. But to understand that kind of symbolism, he would have to be a prodigy in literature.
Mrs Fanny comes over to check on Shane. She teaches him how to use different crayons to attain other colours. With the compulsion of a six year old, he proceeds to colour my shirt (which looks suspiciously like a dress) green, black and white. Just like that, I'm wearing gold.
"Shane's a bright kid," she says, lightly caressing his head.
He responses by smacking her hand away in annoyance.
I gasp. "Shane," I say sternly. "You better apologize to Mrs Fanny right now."
"It's ok. He's just six years old."
"I'm so sorry," I say apologetically. "I'll make sure he gets some sort of punishment when we're home."
I'm practically mortified. After teaching Shane so much about politeness, he dared embarrass me like that. Maybe I should take away his Lego toys.
"Oh, no - please!" Mrs Fanny waves her hand. "Don't punish Shane, he's such a great kid!"
Sometimes, I wonder how my boy manages to charm everyone into helping him go against me. It's like they're the angels and I'm the villain.
"He's intelligent, I'll give him that. But that's what he is. In the end, our choices make us who we are. And currently he seems to always choose the darker path."
Mrs Fanny almost chokes on a laugh. "You're quite dramatic. He's six, not nearly old enough to walk down a darker path. But, he did have a choice as to what to draw today," she says, jerking her head towards the board. "And look what he did."
She silently ambles away on that note and I look at the board.
The thing I love most. The topic for today.
Then I look at Shane's drawing. Trees and flowers and bees. Among them, Cygnus, him, and me.
Family. That's the thing he loves most.
A choking feeling rises up in me like a tsunami wave, unrelenting and overwhelming. I place an arm around Shane and bury my face in his lavender-scented hair.
"Daddy loves you," I whisper to him.
With that, Shane draws a speech bubble for my character. Daddy loves you, he writes. Then, he draws a combined speech bubble for him and Cygnus.
We love you forever too!
It's frightening how disarming a child's innocence can be. I have to shoot up from my seat and flee.
__________
IT'S with fondness and a dose of nostalgia that I remember how Benji's mother was disapproving of me at first. She thought white guys were too self-centred, arrogant and unmotivated. Also, she felt that I was 'too good-looking' - another point of potential hurt. Of course, none of that mattered to me, in the sense that I continued loving Benji. My perseverance paid off. It took years to finally win her over.
Our wedding was a dream come true. Eleanor was there, and she said that she loved the look on my face as Benji and I were exchanging our vows. Yes, I was breathtaken. Love, beyond words and science, truly has a way of affecting you. I looked at the man before me, fearful that I was beneath him. After I put the ring on him, he collapsed on my shoulder. I thought it was the cutest thing to do when he hugged me tight, crying, telling me not to let go of him, because then he would fall to the ground.
Confetti rained upon us, and I only allowed Benji a minute with each guest before rushing him home for lovemaking.
Five years later, we were to have a kid. We engaged a surrogate mother from Thailand, and Benji insisted on using my sperm to create our child. I knew he'd be a good father. Months before the baby was born, he had already stocked up on diapers and clothes.
And then we ended up with baby Shane!
The start of fatherhood was relaxing. When Shane cried at night, Benji would usually be the one rushing to the side of the crib first. He changed the diapers, bathed the baby, and pretty much did everything else.
Let's just say we had a little bit of an argument when Shane turned two. It was regarding his education.
Just a week before, I was in Singapore to give a talk on the theory of blackholes. I was stunned by how smart the students were, and I thought it would be wonderful if Shane could study there. After returning, I brought Benji to his favourite cafe to discuss the issue.
"It's a categorical no." He shrugged as if to to say 'it's just too bad', and I sighed.
Beside me, in his stroller, Shane started crying. I picked him up and patted his back gently. The customers from an adjacent table looked over and smiled. That made me want to raise him up in the air and show him off to the world, like how the monkey did in The Lion King.
Shane didn't stop crying. That prompted Benji to take over from me. I was mortified when our son calmed down. Benji gave me a patronising smile.
"See? I know what works for him."
"Come on, Benji. What's wrong with living in Singapore? It's your home country after all."
"I studied there. The students there are book smart. That's all." Benji said, propping Shane back into his stroller with a toy bear. "And I know exactly how stressful the environment is. If you had felt the constant feeling of suffocation for yourself, you wouldn't be proposing this to me at all."
"Stressful? Shane, you know and I know that stress is inevitable for success. In the middle of the pack you can get by with little work if you're smart. But to be at the top, people are constantly working to claw past you."
"That's different," Benji almost snapped. "You've been a high achiever all your life, and-"
"So have you."
"Don't interrupt me. And Shane doesn't need that kind of expectations on his back. Just let him be a child for now, ok?"
"Since when did I become the Asian father?" I was so surprised that Benji was vehemently protecting Shane like that. He responded by sipping his iced coffee and looking out the window. I raised my arms to surrender my case, because angering Benji after being away from him for a week wasn't what I was shooting for. "Alright, alright. So Benji stays here - your mouth. Yes, right there."
Benji licked the froth above his lips and rested his head on the glass window, exposing his neck. Hmm...
I sank further under the table and crossed one leg over the other.
"What are you thinking?" I held his hand and stroked it with my thumb slowly.
"I'll make sure he gets his A's, Cygnus."
I gave Benji a catty grin. "I know you will. Can we go home now?"
Pulling Benji up from his seat, I got the stroller and proceeded to make a quick trip back home.
"Wait wait wait. Why're we leaving so quickly?"
I glanced around carefully and leaned in close to his ear. Mm...He smelled so good.
"I've not eaten my little muffin for over a week now."
I smiled deviously when Benji's eyes widened, making him look like a moonstruck goldfish. He tossed his head about to see if anyone had overheard me. But trust me, that was the least of my concerns.
"I'm freaking thirty. Not exactly qualified to be a little muffin the last time I checked," he said softly under his breath. "And can you please have some self control? We're in a public place."
"Oh, go on sounding distraught. You're only making this affair seem more scandalous and...kinky. You're very good at turning me on, little muffin, so you better follow me home now before I force you into the toilet at the back." I was actually being quite serious.
"Oh my god please stop calling me that. I'm not appearing on tomorrow's headlines for this."
I nuzzled his cheek and kissed him. "I'm just used to calling you that. So can I please have you now? I've been too busy even for self gratification."
Benji pursed his lips, but I could tell he was secretly happy. I always did try to make him feel wanted. So with baby Shane, we headed back home.
__________
"YOUR grandma will try to make you stay for dinner, so we'll have to turn her down, ok? We have to meet your father before the sun sets. Ok, Shane? Shane?"
I look in the mirror to find him sleeping soundly at the back of the car, clutching the picture protectively.
Outside, lush greenery passes us by in a blur. I love this stretch of road. No matter how many times I've passed it, the bucolic scene never ceases to make me feel at peace.
The vast expanse of hills are dotted with lush, colourful blooms. Cygnus' mother once told me that he used to play in these very same places with his sibings when they were little.
In five minutes, I'm parking the car outside a quaint house by the countryside. I wake Shane up, and he pops out of the car in a rush. With the picture in his hand trailing blithely in the wind, he runs up to his grandmother's house and rams his fist on the door. Quickly, I grab the bag of herbs and break into a chase.
"Shane! Don't do that!"
I should have known this only makes Shane slam the door even harder. He's lucky his grandma answers the door before I can get there.
"Hey!" Alice calls, genuinely surprised. "Shane! What are you doing here?"
She beams at the sight of me, but Shane demands her attention. I fervently hope that her skirt won't end up pooling around around her ankles with the way Shane's tugging at it.
"Gran, look!" he coos, holding up his picture proudly with a boyish grin.
"It's very lovely," Alice says, and I'm tempted to smash my head against something.
"Hold it like this." I prise the drawing from Shane's hand and turn it the other way. He was holding the drawing facing him.
Alice gives me an expectant look.
"It's Valentine's Day, and I thought Cygnus would love a picture by his son."
"Yes, yes...he would." Alice pauses for a second, as if deep in thought. And then, like a stone statue come to life, she beckons us in. "Why are you here today, by the way? Not that I mind having company. It does get so lonely here sometimes, Benjamin."
"I heard from my mum that you're sick."
"Oh, I'm actually feeling much better now. But thank you for coming."
Just then, my phone rings. As expected, it's my mum. I lay my coat on the table and help Shane change to the kids channel before answering it.
"Ni you qu tan wang jia po ma?" she asks in Mandarin.
Did you visit your mother-in-law?
"Yes, I'm actually at her place now, with Shane."
"Do take care of her! And remember that Shane has spelling tomorrow. Don't abuse my grandson even if he doesn't do well!"
"I won't have to because I've tested him like twice already." I conveniently leave out that there's going to be another round tonight.
"Oh please, Benji! You're his parent first, then his teacher!" my mum hollers. Then, I hear random screams of elation in the background and the line cuts. She must be playing mahjong with her friends.
Alice comes out of the kitchen with her arms full of clothing. The scent of green apple wafts in the air, delicate and cheeky. I'm saying cheeky because it's the scent that reminds me of Cygnus. When we first encountered at university, I wondered why he always smelled so good. Then I met Alice, and since then, I've been using the same washing detergent as her.
"Was that Pearl?" she asks.
"Yeah. My mum was doing a spot check to confirm that I was taking care of you."
Alice laughs. I let my eyes wander about. Same old brick walls, same leather sofa and coffee table, same old Alice. It's like time has spared this house from its ravenous damage. The first time I met Alice, she intrigued me. I couldn't reconcile how high-aiming Cygnus could have a simple lady for a mother. Later, I came to understand that she's larger than life. And even though she may not be a shrewd businesswoman or a scientist in search of a cure for Aids, she's better than many of us in many ways.
The kitchen hasn't changed too. I start a pot of water boiling and examine the view outside. Iridescent light explodes among the flora like coloured rays emanating from a disco ball. They penetrate a light smog that never seems to dissipate at any time of the year.
"You've always been a dreamer, my darling."
I'm a little startled to find Alice right behind me. I spill the motley of herbs from my bag onto the table and start slicing the cordyceps.
"That's what everybody says."
"I remember how Cygnus came home once during college. And while I was having my daily dose of Friends, he came up to me. And he told me, 'Mum! Remember that roommate who embarrassed me on the first day of school?...I think I might like him. Actually I think I like him a lot.' He said you loved writing, so it was no surprise that you were a dreamer. And he also said you were so austere and somber, so you might reject him. I was the one who told him to go for you." Alice stops, but my intuition tells me she has more to say.
"Mum?"
"Thank you for loving my son all these years, Benjamin."
My hand twitches a little for some reason. "I never really knew why he did. He's...he's something, ok. Really really good-looking. And yet he fell in love with plain old me." I give myself a little smile.
"He was very frightened all those years back, Benjamin. You could have gone back to Singapore after you graduated. Pearl wasn't in favour of him. Even after Shane was born he was afraid you might attract unwanted attention. He was constantly afraid of losing you because you meant the world to him."
I'm taken aback by her comment, speechless. So I just dump the chopped herbs into a bag silently and tie it up. I place the bag into the boiling pot of water and cap the lid on. The essence of the herbs will diffuse into the water soon.
Chinese medicine heals ailments by providing the body nutrition and strengthening our immune system. I believe it's better than taking antibiotics or funny pills whenever we're ill. Somehow that seems rather toxic to me, but I still do it out of convenience.
"Mum, just give it an hour or so. It might taste bad, but you can use some rock sugar to nullify the bitterness."
I exit the kitchen. Mickey Mouse blinks off the screen with a press of a button, and Shane whines.
Alice stands near the kitchen with disappointment etched all over her face.
"You're leaving already? Do stay, Benjamin. I could make you dinner! And Shane loves my meatballs, don't you, darling."
My son, never failing to side with food, runs to his grandmother and holds her hand, giving me a pitiful look. Alice laughs in amusement.
"I really have to go, Mum. The sun's setting soon."
I really want to be with Cygnus as it goes down.
A flash of realisation zips across Alice's face. She bends down and embraces Shane tightly, giving him a peck on his forehead.
"Oh dear, Shane, in that case you should go. Don't keep your father waiting," says Alice as she caresses his smooth cheeks.
Shane pouts as he holds my hand reluctantly. I retrieve my coat and Shane's drawing from the table. Alice sends us out, and as Shane puts on his shoes, she gives me a look. A look that speaks so much and holds so much emotion that I can't even decipher what she means to say with it. With her arms folded in a fleece sweatshirt, she's never looked tinier.
"I'll come round next Saturday," I tell her.
"I'll be waiting. Shane, do listen to your father, ok?" She rustles his hair tenderly, and he looks at his feet.
We wave goodbye to Alice, with Shane bopping up and down, shouting, "Bye! Goodbye Gran! Byeeee...!"
In the car, I look out the window to see that Alice is still at the door, hugging herself from the cold.
I take out my iPhone and write in Reminders: Buy coat for Alice.
After making sure Shane has his seatbelt buckled, I drive. I just drive, like always. Sometimes in a daze, sometimes with urgency, sometimes happily. I just go on.
__________
LIGHT clawed at my face the moment I approached the exit. Being in a dimly lit room for so long seriously made everything seem too glaring.
Beep!
I tapped my card on the way out of the research centre and stretched my neck.
"Ah-AH Ahh..." I croaked orgasmically as the bones in my neck made cracking sounds and shifted into place. My team and I had spent the entire morning debating whether people would get blown to smithereens while in a blackhole. That wasn't all. We tried discussing how it would ever be possible to harvest enough negative energy enough for warp drive. Yes, like in Star Trek. All basic rocket science!
Ok, being an astrophysicist, I can't resist explaining interstellar travel a little, so pay close attention. Imagine having a long balloon, ninety percent inflated, with a cardboard ring around it in the middle. Let the balloon be interstellar space and the ring be the space probe. Squeeze one end of the balloon and the air shifts to the other, doesn't it? Like it just skipped past the ring. Tada! The cardboard piece has effectively moved. The question is, how do you exert enough negative energy to 'squeeze' space past a probe?
I started humming A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. And gosh, I even snickered a little while thinking of Benji. He did make me feel like a little boy every so often.
Someone stared at me as I practically skipped through the carpark, and I guessed it was because of my terrifying vocals.
But whatever - it was Valentine's Day! I hopped into my car with a buzz coursing through my veins. A quick trip to the florist and then to that expensive Michelin starred restaurant.
It was impossible not to grin evilly as I recalled the secret weapons I had bought specially for today: furry gloves, masks, cuffs... I whipped out my phone to check on Benji.
Me: I hope you haven't forgotten about today.
Right after I start my engine, my phone buzzed.
Little Muffin: Nope I haven't. I'm spending the last ten minutes of the day hiding in the toilet and waiting for time to pass...
Me: Stop skiving!! Be thankful you're a columnist not an astrophysicist! That aside, please stop whatever you're doing in your cubicle! Reserve yourself for meee 😍
Little Muffin: Stop maligning me! I'm not doing anything dirty! Pick me up in half an hour. I didn't drive the other car to help reduce air pollution.
Me: Wth is malign??! Ok cya in twenty five babe.
I tucked my phone into my pocket and drove off to fetch my better half.
The restaurant I placed a booking at was located near the sea in a tranquil and serene setting. It was classy without looking like it. I knew for one that Benji hated grandeur, as he found it pretentious and suffocating.
I managed to avert the jam by meandering my way out of the bustling city, onto a quiet road.
There was this huge truck that was bent on blocking my way. It just sat in the middle of the entire road. If Benji were there he'd have used a word like 'despicable' or 'abominable' to describe the situation.
I rolled my eyes and jammed my palm on the horn. The truck sped up exponentially, lurching forward. I heaved a sigh of relief. Just then, my phone buzzed.
Little Muffin: Ermmmmm... I might knock off a little later than expected because the person covering the entertainment column went MIA. Writing about Kim Kardashian is so beneath me!
Typing with one hand was a revolting experience.
Me: I m reschng son
"Oh you little bitch," I cursed my phone.
Just then, a loud bang made me jerk my head up at the speed of light. The doors to the truckload before me had burst open, unleashing a barrel that was hurled through the air-
And smashed upon the ground to explode into a wash of oil.
Silly me craned my neck forward, whispering, "Oh wow."
It took me three seconds to get to my senses and finally step on the break. My hands instinctively steered the wheel to the right. Even as my tires screeched like a bloodcurdling scream, my car simply skidded off the road because of the oil.
"God God God GOD!" I shouted.
The impact sent my car smashing in between two trees. I looked around and saw a trail of fire produced by the deadly friction of my tires on the oil.
It wasn't a surprise when I found the doors blocked by the trunks, so massive they jammed the doors at the back as well.
I actually laughed a little. "Oh god, nonono...what should I do. What should I do..." I muttered like a madman. "Benji."
I picked my phone up from between my feet.
Me: Hey babe I can't go. I'm so sorry I'm so scared I love you
There was no time to care about grammar. When you are at the brink of death, the fear lances through you like unforgiving cold, making your nerves scream out desperately.
I wanted to cry, but only choking sounds came out without the tears.
Oh my god, I kept thinking.
Me: Forever
I just had to say that.
A crackling sound saw a wall of flames licking my car boot. I curled up on my seat, quivering so hard I rocked back and forth.
"Benji. Shane. Benji. Shane..." I chanted.
The explosion was glorious. A flash of golden light, and searing pain that vanished. Because my nerves got microwaved.
And then there was nothing at all.
__________
THAT fear could affect me that way wasn't what I had known before. It lanced through me, inflicting so much pain all I could see was a blanket of gleaming stars raining down before my eyes, relentless in their assault.
I stopped by Shane's school, and his teacher pushed him into the car hastily.
My world had been turned upside down in a second.
Shane didn't know what was going on, but he took the cue from me and started crying too. Children react in situations with reference to their parents' actions. That was why I never really cried again.
I felt so nauseous, I felt like giving up that day and just ending it all. But I looked at Shane and I couldn't. I forced myself to drive, and drive on I did.
It has been what I've been doing ever seen. Sometimes in a daze, sometimes with urgency, sometimes happily. I just go on.
__________
GUIDES. That's what the angels were. They guided me away from blinding light and bought me precious time. When I came to, I saw them. All the people who love me crowding around me. My gaze milled around.
Mum. Eleanor. Dad. Pearl. Some other friends. Benji with Shane in his arms.
He had never cried like that before. As I watched him squeeze my hand in his tightly, I felt like I had done a great sin.
His sobs reached me through the incessant ringing in my ears. I was hopelessly lucky that my eyes were undamaged. At least I could see him for the last time.
I was at peace. How I hoped Benji could have known that. But I didn't want to even open my mouth, too afraid all my remaining life would flee me at once and deprive me of those last few seconds of staring into Benji's eyes.
Don't cry, I thought. But everyone did anyway.
As I lay there feeling my breath getting shallower, so many images burned around me. It was like a spool unreeling, filled mostly with Benji, my greatest achievement of all.
We live for these moments in our lives, that flash before our mind's eye just before we die. In between these moments, we just get by, trudging through time together. And I am so honored to have spent my life with the incredible Benji. Through our shared moments, we have created so many beautiful memories. And they all came rushing back to me at once. I thought back to the second our child first saw this world. Back to our first minute of kissing. Back to our first hour of passion. And finally, back to the first day we met. I spent my life being a physicist, believing that time was the most important thing in our lives. It was Benjamin the Arts major who told me life wasn't measured in seconds, but in the moments we truly live. And so I seized every moment I could. I ended up collecting enough happiness to last a lifetime, but not enough time to spend it, and my life became measured in numbers that represented my heartbeat and blood pressure.
I wouldn't have regrets, for I had loved. I had experienced one of the greatest and most enigmatic experiences in the world.
Benji - he's truly special. He's not one in a million, or even a billion, for that matter, for there are seven billion people in this world. One in seven billion - that's all we are. But Benji's my home, and he's the only one who walked with me to the end of my lane. And no matter how many dimensions I learned to see the world in, he knew how to love in more.
My lips went numb, my hand slack, and I could feel my life slipping away from me. I trapped myself in Benji's eyes until I was too tired and closed mine. Those last few seconds were heart-wrenching. Benji hugged me and screamed for me to stay, but my consciousness was grasping at nothing. I was simply too tired, and I couldn't even tell him I was sorry.
Darkness swathed me in its tendrils and enveloped me fully.
I saw a glistening star rise from a pit of nothingness, floating higher and higher into an endless void. Blinking. Twinkling.
And then, all at once, it winked out.
__________
ME and you. Me and you. Me. And. You.
I thought that was what We were going to break up into.
On the day of the accident, as I watched Cygnus' life ooze out of him, I was in disbelief the whole time. I thought his hand would let go of mine finger by finger, the way they show in movies. Instead, his fingers let me go all at once.
Everyone knows without me telling that people come and go. That Death takes whomever it pleases, whenever. Yet when the person you love gets snuffed out of existence, don't you just stand there in shock?
Why us? we'd start to think in agony. Why not other people? Love is selfless in being selfish.
Today is Valentine's Day, the day Cygnus passed away. I'm holding the hand of my son as we walk down a field at the back of a church, when I should be holding the hand of my husband as we walk into a restaurant. I close my fingers around his little fist tightly.
You know you've spun yourself a bad place on the wheel of Life when you're given someone to love that madly, only for him to be stolen in a wrinkle of time. I wanted to release Cygnus, too afraid to remember the flat line that represented his heartbeat. But I was even more afraid of driving the good memories out with the bad. So, like Peeta Mellark says, "I don't want to forget."
I will never let Us wash upon the sand.
Let me teach you a little about the theory of blackholes. When stars die, they collapse so rapidly into themselves that they become blackholes, so powerful that even light cannot escape. That was what happened. My precious star winked out, leaving a blackhole of desperation in his wake. I got trapped in it, churned around and around in images and flashbacks. They went on play, end, repeat. It was so hard, but I eventually found my way out of it, saved by Alice and my mother.
Without the blackhole of memories, I am beginning to lose Cygnus piece by piece. And I find myself struggling. Struggling to hold on to who he was and to what we were, as the days pass. But this is the only thing I can do. And this is the only way he can live on. We can no longer make new memories, yet our ones from the past are fleeing me. If they all burn out, what do I live for then? I'm so scared I may wake up one day to have moved on from him completely.
Little Shane places the bouquet and his drawing before Cygnus' grave stone. I tell him to go pick some wildflowers for his father. He scampers around, piling little blooms before his father's grave stone. I stare at it the way Cygnus used to stare at me. One year gone, and I still miss those warm brown eyes. I miss the way he ran his hand through my hair when he kissed me, and how he breathed hard against my neck as he made love to me.
Out of the blue, I'm overwhelmed all over again by the melancholy that bombards me with lacerations and start quaking, surrendering myself to the pain. My knees buckle.
There is no stopping the flow of tears. They always come suddenly and relentlessly. One year on, and I'm still grieving. No - grieving is sort of a shorthand. Benji looks at me silently, uncertain and frightened. But I can't stop. Sometimes, when I realise what I've lost, I just let myself die a little while, shaking with uncontrollable sobs that make me shiver and feel like choking. I close my eyes
and see nothing but blue water, shimmering like a sea of crystals. Cygnus gets on one knee before me with a little box tucked in his hands.
"Benjamin Chen, I want - no, need you to be happy. I want to build a home with you, love you, walk you to the end of time. So I'm asking for the permission and honour to hold your hand and be your husband. Will you marry me?"
"I miss you. Oh god I miss you." My whisper shivers on its way out. I hunch forward and dig my nails against the cloth on my thighs. Come back! I want to shout.
I grit my teeth. The tears stop, but the shaking does not. Shane treads over gingerly and tests me by placing a hand on my arm. I wipe my face dry with the sleeve of my shirt and carry him.
My mother is a treasure chest of lessons. She's taught me everything since I was young. When Cygnus passed away, she told me that not everyone can have a happy ending.
But day by day, as I saw Shane grow up, I began to think she might be wrong. This is as much of a happy ending as I want it to be. We're content and healthy. What more can we ask for? Time doesn't make pain disappear, only bearable, making it possible for love to heal. Cygnus left a gap, and I will fill it. I will love Shane more and more and more.
Shane buries his head in my neck. He must be tired from waking up so early. I smooth my hand down his back gently to lull him to sleep.
"I love you," I whisper, hoping Cygnus can hear me. "Happy Valentine's Day."
I sit on the grass and wait till the sun sets and makes way for the stars. Then I wake Shane up, and we marvel at the map of jewels in the sky. They smile at us. We smile back.
__________
Epilogue
HOME is a sanctuary. It's the place where you find comfort in the people you love after a hard day's work. Benji and Shane are home to me. I sit on the grass and admire the stars with them because there's no better place to be.
"Happy Valentine's Day," I whisper in Benji's ear. He's afraid I can't hear him. But I can. It's him who can't hear me.
I run a hand over my son's head and give him a kiss. When they finally leave, I walk in pace with Benji. I still find myself stunned as to how gorgeous I find him. He can't feel the kiss that I plant on his cheek. Nor can he feel me holding his hand. It's something a little too hard to let go.
I have loved him, I love him, and I will continue loving this man and holding his hand. For he said yes when I went on one knee and asked for it.
~*~*~
THE END
Afterword
So...I'm happy to publish this on Valentine's Day! I hope you've enjoyed what you just read. I tried my best to create a big and believable storyline within 10k words. Gosh, my heart ached so much when writing this. Depending on the reception, I miiiight write a full story on these characters! :) I went out on a limb and centred my story around adults, but I think the universal theme of love would still come through.
There's a hidden message from Cygnus to Benji in this story. Read the first word (in bold) at the start of every part :)