NANNY
Sweat dripping, scalp itching, Malik clenched his jaw, holding himself together, trying to not go on a scratching frenzy. The four-year-old boy sat on a foot tall stool; newspapers spread below him. To distract himself, he looked below on the newspaper articles, too lazy to read them; not that he could, as parts of the text were covered in his hair. He looked at the pictures of men in suits, most of them with grey, short hair. “Why is he not itchy? He is smiling!” Malik exclaimed, looking intently at the man in the newspaper, smiling, not even blinking. “He is strong, be like him, and do not itch!” Anas encouraged, examining his work, making sure that all sides of his son’s head were equally trimmed. “It is not fair! I am very itchy and he is not!”
Malik showered after the cut, scratching his head furiously in the shower. He looked up at the singular lightbulb in the toilet, filled with cobwebs. This had annoyed him for some time, but he was powerless to reach it. Malik changed to a fresh set of clothes, applied powder, and went out through the back door, which were made like tall shutter windows. He took a few steps outside, but retraced his steps to wear some slippers. He wanted to just walk barefoot but had been told multiple times not to.
Swinging his skinny arms, he headed to the edge of the brick wall that made up his back lawn. Malik always wondered what lie beyond those walls, but knew that he would find out eventually. He grabbed a watering can with both hands, widened his stance, and waddled his way around, watering the plants. Anas sat not far away on a stool, watching his son. He touched his balding head and ran his fingers through his hair, realizing that he too needed a haircut.
After a few minutes, Anas realized that his son had stopped, and was crouching, staring at something. His brow curled, he approached Malik and saw that the boy was seeing how some leaves had holes in them while some did not. Malik asked why this is and Anas responded by stating how a lot of it was up to chance. “Sometimes, many plants die because of insects. This is something me and you cannot control,” Anas explained. Frowning, Malik complained that it didn’t sound quite fair.
Trying to cheer Malik up, Anas offered to give Malik another cycling lesson. Malik’s frown turned upside down, he ran to the front yard where a bicycle was rested against a tree. After a brief lesson, Anas left Malik to learn by himself, while Anas swept the leaves. With half a dozen trees in their yard, Anas knew that one day, unless Malik was to live here and be willing to sweep, he would have to get rid of these trees, as the yard required almost daily sweeping.
After almost an hour, and the sky turning orange, Anas beckoned for Malik to come inside. Malik put a finger on his lip, thinking. “I need to do two things first!” Malik ran as fast as his skinny legs could take him, and leapt into the pile of leaves Anas had swept. Then, Malik ran to the backyard, and hopped onto the swing that Anas had built, swinging back and forth to gain speed. Anas went inside and told Malik to not take too long. As Malik was swinging, he noticed that the swing didn’t always go front and back. At times, it moved diagonally. Curious, he twisted his body and the swing moved 360 degrees, the chains intertwining, before returning to its original position. Chuckling, Malik span and span until he no longer could, and let go. He spun a few times, giggling all the way. He tried this again, but he put his fingers up too high. When he spun the swing, it got caught in the chains. Panicked, Malik released the swing immediately and swung once more. He held his index finger in the other hand, grimacing.
Malik showered once more, and as soon as he put on a new set of clothes, heard someone calling out his father’s name. Anas who was at the back frying eggs asked for Malik to go and attend to the person calling. Malik’s neighbour, Granny Nanny, smiled warmly at Malik from the other side of the wall that separated their homes. Nanny gave him a container that smelt of chicken. Malik thanked the old woman and went back inside.
Anas parked his motorcycle, and told Malik to hold his hands tightly. It was Ramadhan, and to save costs, Anas decided that they would break their fast at the mosque. The mosque itself was mostly marble, and Malik could see a weird looking chair by a pillar. When asked what it was, Anas said that it was a massage chair. Confused as to what a massage even is, Malik decided to wait until they were at home to inquire further. Malik sat down on a rug that felt funny, with what seemed to him like strands of plastic woven with each other.
Anas brought Malik his food and managed to grab Malik’s hand before he could dig in, reminding him to respect those who did fast. Malik too would fast when he got older. Malik looked around, and saw three kids his age, running around. It looked like so much fun, but Malik hesitated, shy around strangers. Eventually, the sun set and the muazzin performed the Maghrib Azan. After eating, Malik and Anas returned home, where Malik asked about the massage chair.
It wasn’t long until a familiar voice called out Anas’ name. For the first time, Malik had a good look at Nanny’s house. Unlike Malik’s house that stood on pillars, almost two meters off the ground, Nanny’s house was firmly placed, made of brick, unlike Malik’s house that was made of wooden planks. Nanny had a car parked, but Malik noticed that it was dusty. He asked why that was and Nanny chuckled. “I am old. I cannot drive anymore, so the car has been left here for quite some time. When you grow up, why don’t you drive me around?”
Inside, Malik noticed that the atmosphere was different. Malik didn’t know that the light bulb here emitted yellow light, unlike what he had at home, that emitted white light. The house itself was well furnished, with furniture made of hard wood, complete with carvings and ornaments here and there. Father and son were served beef, something Anas hadn’t had in a long time, and something completely new to Malik. When the meal was over, Nanny asked Anas to stay for a chat. “I don’t get many visitors, you know,” Nanny remarked. Nanny turned on the television and politely asked Malik to go watch any show of his liking, and let the grownups talk in private.
Malik watched cartoons, laughing all the way, unaware that such entertainment exists. At home, they had no television; and Malik played with rocks, creating imaginary characters. When all seemed well, suddenly the cartoon was no longer playing. There was a woman, and she was complaining about her hair. Malik didn’t know it was a shampoo commercial. Confused, he decided to eavesdrop. Malik hid behind a wall, and listened intently. “He needs a mother. You need a partner. Open your heart”.
Before he knew it, Malik found himself at the exact spot, a few weeks later. He wore a green baju Melayu, and dug into the sweets that were plentiful during Eid. In the house was only Granny Nanny, Malik and Anas. The house was neatly decorated, with people the only thing missing. Malik looked out the window, and saw people coming in droves to his other neighbour’s house. “Who are they?” Anas wiped smudge off of his son’s lip, and responded “Those are aunts and uncles. I am my mother and father’s only child, like you are mine. So, you do not have aunts and uncles”.
Malik turned to face Nanny, who was drinking plain water in comparison to Malik and Anas. “Does Granny Nanny have children?” Nanny finished her drink. “Yes, I have five children but they live very far away. They cannot come here. I have you two, however”. Anas licked his lips in delight, relishing the rendang that comes by very rarely. Malik’s curiosity however, was not satiated just yet. “Why is Granny not drinking the tasty juice? And does father have a father and mother?” Anas took his time to chew his food, something he constantly reminded Malik to do. “Granny is old. Old people cannot eat and drink like young people. She cannot drink tasty drink because it is sweet. Sweet is not good for old people. And yes, I have a father and mother. They are not here. They are somewhere we cannot go for now, and we are somewhere they cannot return to”.
Malik nodded his understanding, and continued to see people come and go from various houses. He caught sight of the same group of boys he saw from the mosque, and noticed that they were stopping by at each house for a brief time. Eventually, they reached Nanny’s house, and Malik became excited, as this was the perfect opportunity to get acquainted with them. The boys gave salaam, and just stood there, waiting for something. Nanny invited them in, but they said they were busy. Nanny gave them some money, wished them well, and sent them off. This was Malik’s official introduction to Raya money, a concept he didn’t quite comprehend. “They come, don’t stay, don’t talk, and get money?” Malik thought.
Nanny stretched a bit, and taking advantage of the fact that she was already standing up, headed towards her piano, and played a melodious tune. Malik clapped happily, and Nanny played progressively harder songs. Suddenly, Malik had the urge to use the restroom, and asked his father to show him the way. Anas pointed his finger to the back of the house, and Malik went. After relieving himself, Malik walked back to the living room, but stopped at the staircase. Nanny was busy playing the piano, and Anas was eating as much as he could, lost in ecstasy.
Malik ascended the flight of stairs, making as little noise as he could. Once he got up, the atmosphere took a sudden change. It was gloomy, creepy even. Right ahead of Malik was a large semi-circular window, and on the left and right were doors to rooms. In the middle was a cabinet and on it, were dolls, neatly arranged to face Malik. Malik examined the stitch-work, with its nicely done seams, and button eyes. In the cupboard were glass items. Malik wanted to check them out but Anas made sure that Malik stayed away from anything made of glass.
Beside the doors, were large paintings, taller than Malik himself. They looked like family pictures. Malik recognized Nanny as her younger self, and saw that in the pictures, she was with five children, most probably her children. Beside her, was someone whose eyes were covered in black tape. For the first time, Malik felt something that accompanied his usual curiosity. He felt uncomfortable, and afraid. Malik went down the stairs and noticed that both Anas and Nanny were without partners. He was just about to ask, when Anas held Malik’s hand, leading them home, not without thanking Nanny. Without Malik realizing, they had been there for two hours, and Anas wanted to give the old woman some time alone to rest.
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