Singapore Noir

Let her go, Eddie, she won’t stay. Your hands are ugly, filthy. You smell. Let her go. She belongs in a different world.

Truth was, he was hungry; he could not stand too well, his head was spinning. He let her hand go and she turned to run and then stopped and came back to him.

He looked up at her surprised that she had returned so quickly. She bent down and gave him a gentle hug, then quickly turned around and ran off.

Most of the people he met could not get away from him fast enough and she had given him a hug.

Be careful, Eddie, she may want something. You should watch her.

Eddie pulled some more hair out; his friends were definitely back. The mean one had not started speaking yet. It was just a matter of time.

Look around you, Eddie, you don’t belong here. These people have perfect lives, big houses, shiny cars, lots of money. And they have good families. Not like yours. Their families care. They don’t run around and let the kids fend for themselves.

Don’t listen to him, Eddie. He is a goondu! She was a good woman, your ma. No, you tell him to stop, now. You wouldn’t be in this shit if you listened to me and not him.

Two older aunties were walking by now — Eddie watched as they moved carefully to avoid him. He felt lousy. He hated being on the streets. It was pathetic. He was homeless even though he had a home. He did not want to go home — the warmth of it reminded him of his mother. He did not want to be reminded of her. He missed her. No, he was better off outside.

You know it is easier to be outside, Eddie. The house will be full of her things and there, they... they will be looking for you... they know what you did, they will try to get you. You need to stay out of the house.

Eddie got up from the bridge and began to walk toward the lights of Kallang, away from the river, peering at the reflection of the setting sun as it glinted on the water.

A light breeze was rolling in. Luckily, Ms. Ana had given him the jacket a week earlier. It was gray and blue with the word Singapore on the back.

You know, Eddie, Ma would have loved your jacket.

No way, Eddie, she would be ashamed, you were her dream and now here you are wearing people’s garbage.

Eddie paused when he got to the bus stop. His hunger pangs had become an accurate indicator of time and they told him that Uncle Teo would be driving up soon in bus number 26 and Eddie would spend the next hour in its comfortable air-con before returning to the streets for the rest of the night. He thought for a minute about going home. But the house stifled him. Each time the phone rang, his heart jumped — maybe it was the police looking for him, or perhaps, just perhaps there was a miracle and his mother had come back. Neither ever happened.

The streets were better. No one knew him.

Uncle Teo opened the bus door and pretended not to notice that Eddie offered no fare — again. This was an older bus, one that wended a well-traveled route, and Eddie could always detect the familiar smell of dirt, sweat, and sometimes vomit lingering just beneath the scent of chemical sprays.

This is what being unwanted smells like, Eddie, get used to it. This is the rest of your life.

“Go to the last seat,” Uncle Teo casually said, “someone left a McDonald’s bag. Maybe inside got some makan.”

It was the same routine each night.

Maybe he poisoned the burger, Eddie. Who would want to feed you? You are such a waste of flesh.

No, no, Eddie. He loves you. You can repay him someday. Don’t listen to that man. You are a good boy, Edward. Eat the Big Mac.

Eddie clutched at his head. It was pounding, and the voices were getting stronger and louder.