Rites of Passage

A day out in the park in such a weather is always nice, though she is very well aware that any given day could have any kind of weather, be it rain or shine, you can never tell. There is a children’s playground right next to the main path, while a football field is approximately a hundred yards away.

As she walks along the path that she had become so familiar with over the past year, it is hard for her to shut away those feelings, even in a day like this.

Regret, is what she feels. Or not, remorse might be a better word to describe her feeling. They had those moments, didn’t they? But nothing came to fruition. All the time she considers whether it would have been different if she did something different.

Yes, by many people’s standards, she is not…”conventional”. In cases like these, most of her friends would have jumped into it without a second thought. Young heads were governed by young minds of passion and instinct, as for her, rational and logic comes first.

Then as she walks past the children’s playground, she sees a boy of probably twelve or thirteen, staring rather intently towards the group of little kids enjoying themselves on the swings, sliding, shouting, cheering. She can see that the boy is struggling. But she knows that she could not help.

For wisdom comes with age. Maybe it came a little too early for her. With wisdom one begins to wield more caution and hesitancy. There was too much to consider. That is why, she often believes, things remains sparks where it should have been a disaster.

Could she ever return to the same point in the future, that she may try taking a different path? No one could tell for certain. The boy finally turn and start to walk away, seemingly decided to not join the kids at the playground. He stop right next to the football field, where a group of boys are playing 5-a-sides football.

It is not the time yet. She knows she does not fit anywhere just yet. There is a need to do a little of soul-searching, as the boy must now try to determine his own identity, rework it and build on it for the future. The regret, or remorse, would always remain, adding onto whatever amount of wisdom that is already available, to help decide what to do in the future. 

What are you doing?

 

It repeats, replays itself in his head like a never ending loop. It’s a question, that he keeps asking himself. It’s a statement of defeat he condemns onto himself.

He had long believed this is his destiny, and he put great faith in it and walked it diligently. He knows what he is to become, what he needs to do in the process, and what to expect by the end of his little walk.

But the problem is: He doesn’t know what he is doing.

Too often and too naively he take this blind faith for granted. Yes, he took the road bravely as any travellers of the wilderness. There is a destination, but there is no road. How should he travel? East? West? He realised that there is a luxury of methods to finish the race. But in what way should he achieve that?

But he knows it is way to late to turn back, journeyed too far to return. If there is no road, then he shall make one. The process determines the quality of the product. What he is or plans to do, decides the results of his labour.

So, what are you doing?

Limbo

This can’t be true.

How did I end up here?

A look around the room revealed that it was no bigger than a normal primary school classroom. But it was way more crowded with people than any classrooms I’ve ever seen.

But…

Why am I here?

The last thing I remember was driving my 4x4 Land Rover Jeep back home, listening to the silly DJ’s on the radio bantering. The next thing I knew, I woke up in this room.

Surprisingly, nobody took notice of me, standing looking bewildered. Taking a second glance around the room, the faces now seemed familiar. I know them, but I can’t remember their names.

What is happening?

A sudden blinding light shot across the room, I had to involuntarily shut my eyes. I seem to remember something, but it’s still to vague, like mist in the dark night. I took a step back, and felt my spine hit something. Something wooden, perhaps. Turning myself around, I saw my perfectly stilled body lying within the fine cheddar coffin.

Another blinding light blinded my eyes. At that instances, I understood.

I’m dead.

Then came the loud wailing and crying so loud that I have to shut my ears which I didn’t seem to hear earlier on. As my ears adjusted to the sudden noise, it came to my sense.

I’m at a funeral parlour.

Now I remember who these people are. My family were leading the guests to their seats. Friends, some crying silently, some sobbing. There are also some whose faces remain indifferent. These people came to pay me my last respects.

This must be a bad dream. It has to be.

I felt so bad that I wish I could just wake up from this bad dream. I’m way too young to just leave things like that. I can’t possibly accept this. This is not my fate.

This shall not be my fate!!

I turned and ran, without knowing where I’m heading to. Suddenly all the bickering stopped. All the people are gone, only a lonely casket in front of me.

Where did all the people go?

The door swung open, and a guy walked into the room, carrying some flowers in his hands. Ignoring my presence, he walked straight past me onto the altar. He picked up the incense, lit it up, and stationed the flowers beautifully next to it.

Then I realised, I’ve gone straight through the walls into someone else’s room. The guy turned to leave, and just before he went through a door, I heard…

“No one’s here yet?”

“Nope, the other room’s pretty busy…”

“Yeah, I see you bring flowers again.”

“He might have been lonely in life. Nobody deserved to be lonely...”

I couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation as the closing door shut off any sound from the corridor. Walking up towards the altar, I see a middle-aged man lying in the coffin. He looked dandy, probably didn’t matter much since nobody came to see. There’s this sense of pity rising in me. We’re both dead, yet it is a contrasting sending off between him and me.

I realised that I may never been rich or famous, but I had friends that are loyal and kind, family that brings me warmth and love. I may fall short of other’s expectations, but in the end they all came.

I went back into my room, taking another glance at my loved ones. I remember everything now. The car I was driving must have been in an accident. Someone once said that you can measure how successful your life is by judging the quantity and quality of the people that attend your funeral. It seems to me know that is quite true. I realised, the ones that remained indifferent, unmoved, are my closest friends. It seems that they are already ready to let me go.

At this point, a tunnel of light opened up on the side. I couldn’t see the end of it, but I knew that I must walk through it.

How did I end up here?

It doesn’t matter now. Now I can move on, in peace and rest.

夕阳与黄昏

不知不觉，太阳西下。

“喂？”

“是我…”。随后却是一片肃静。

心想着，又是这阵不自然的安静…恐怕，是最后一次了。 望着窗外的柳树，不禁叹了气。

我们到底怎么了？

“我决定了-我要离开。”对方憔悴的语气，把气氛弄得更为僵硬。

隐隐约约地，他的答复早就在预料当中。却也知道，这答复是经过一段的思考、体谅和琢磨换来的一个回应。

不知该说些什么，也就什么也不说。此时又是一片安宁。

斗嘴，也斗过了。架子，也摆了很多遍。人人常说，情侣不打不相识。想回来真有点懊悔。但饭已成粥，却也难免的。

“那…我祝你…一路顺风。”听见自己的声音，吓了一跳。这战战兢兢，吞吞吐吐的声音竟是自己的？

低头一望，就看见房间里夕阳照着自己身体的影子。很羡慕这没有表情，没有情绪的形象。他是否也这样？

“我要挂了，你多保重。”不知不觉，不禁地流泪了，脸颊湿了。

“对不起…”他没等回复，就把线挂了。一切都了断了，也算是一了百了。

挂了电话，回身倒在床上。窗外看见大半太阳被山脉遮住。空中金色的云彩也逐渐被天色吞没。

满脸眼泪流不停，嘴里带着苦笑，又叹了一口气。

只可惜，太近黄昏了…

Once Passed, Gone Forever…

“Why are you pulling over?” Caleb asked.

“I need a drink”, Adam droved into the almost empty parking lot of the little pub by the road. Adam greeted the bar lady and the cute waitress that was cleaning a table, and chose a table right next to the corner. The old jazz pianist was playing the piano. Caleb ordered a tanker of beer for Adam, another cup of Coke Malibu for himself. I’ll need the extra kick, he thought.

Before Caleb sat himself down, Adam had already downed nearly half of his beer, then said,“Still can’t right believe it, Jean and Desmond getting married huh?”

Caleb appeared to have not heard Adam, took a little sip of his drink, and returned it onto the table. Adam was already taking the last gulp of his beer.

“I’m just glad for them.”

“Really?”

Stunned, Caleb looked up and saw Adam starring right into him. His cheeks were already red, face like a ripe tomato. Just like usual, casual and playful on the outside, yet a sharp and bright mind on the inside. Drinks a lot, but never drunk.

“I’m happy that she’s happy”

“You look far from happy to me”

“You’re drank too much”

“But never drunk”

Caleb knew Adam’s excuse to get a drink is for Caleb to loosen up and relax. He knew this was coming when Adam pulled over. Adam was sensitive enough to know that the night had been a long and tough for him.

“There’s nothing to be done; she’s happy. I’d have done something if she’s not”

“Ah…correction: You should have done something back then. When she was depressed and alone”, Adam ordered another tanker from the cute waitress.

“What do you want from me? I was going away. Away for a very long time. Too long, too far. It’ll never work.” Agitated, Caleb finished his drink in one take, and slammed his cup on the surface table. It was loud, but the jazz pianist playing on the side covered the noise. The bar lady and the waitress didn’t seem to hear the noise.

“That’s more like it. If you feel that much for her, why not give it one last try? I still stick by what I said. You never know till you tried.”

Then there was a long pause between them. Adam, probably coming to his senses, drank his second serving slowly, sip by sip. He would still have to drive them both home safely. Caleb, on the other hand, was starring through the mirror into the dark. Their silence was interceded by the graceful and optimistic jazz music.

 Old in body, young in heart huh?

“Give it another try, would you?” Finishing his drink, Adam went up to the bar lady and paid their tabs. He tipped the cute waitress handsomely, before walking himself out to the car.

A smile cracked on Caleb’s face. Once again he took up his cup to finish his drink, only to realise that he had already finished it in his fury earlier. Now he set his cup gently on the table, bided the bar lady, cute waitress and the old jazz pianist goodnight.

At the door he felt the cold breeze against his burning cheeks, drenched a little by his tears. He knew, he passed his chance a long time ago.

Some things, once passed, is gone forever.