Chapter Three: Shocked

It had been four days since Ainum's wedding and still no sign of Maa'rof. Nadiah paused in her stitch work and began to wonder when he was going to come as the wait was becoming nerve-racking. She hadn't been seeing Zainab either since the wedding and there was no one else she could inquire about his whereabouts. She only knew he was coming back but when...she had to find out. The only prime reason why she was involved in stitch work was due to it being her mother's request when really she would much rather spend her time learning the English Language or something academic-related.

It had been five years since she last attended school where she had learned how to read and write in Bahasa Melayu (Malay Language) and Jawi (an adaptation of Arabic script). How she longed to be able to have someone to practice English conversations with but she had no one else. Whenever she saw the wealthy British rulers, groomed in their distinctive attires at the magistrate offices and the like, she would be filled with fascination and interest at hearing them speak. Their words and sentences were foreign and strange but captivating nevertheless.

The last few days had been of similar routine as always but with the addition of him constantly in her thoughts. She had imagined how their first meeting would be like and she had rehearsed in her thoughts what she was going to say to him when that happens. Waiting was the only option she had left but it made her feel like exploding as it was a tormenting one. So many questions ran through her head: Why he hadn't written to her; why he was gone for a long time; how was it over there.

All she knew was he left for a village in Melaka (Malacca) to acquire knowledge from an Ustaz. (Ustadh: religious teacher) The ringing of a bicycle bell interrupted her thoughts and she glanced out of her window, grateful for a distraction. She saw the post man, Samad, wheeling into her porch and got down from the bicycle and began to walk to where her father was seated. Hassan released the fishnets he was holding and greeted Samad with the salam as he got up.

"Are there a lot of letters today, Mad?" She heard her father say as he salam(shook his hand) before accepting the letters.

"Seems like it," Samad answered as he got on his bicycle. "It's best I take my leave now. Assalamualaikum."

"Walaikumsalam wahramatullahi wa barakahtu."

She watched the postman leave the premises for a brief second before returning her gaze to her father who was inspecting the letters in his hands.

She called out to him from the window. "Ayah! (Father) Are there any letters for me?" Hassan whirled around and looked up at her.

"Don't have." His answer came as a disappointment to her as she retreated back into her room once more. She was still hopeful for a letter from Maa'rof even though he had never once sent her a letter.

She was about to resume her sewing when her mother came in. "Nadiah, I need you to get some groceries from the market." She nodded and left her needlework at a stool before taking the basket and money from her mother. Throwing a scarf loosely around her head, she set out to the wet market. It was mid-afternoon and many villagers were sweeping their front porches, giving feed to their livestock poultry or just sitting leisurely at the gazebos.

"Where are you off to, Nadiah?" Her middle-aged neighbour crooned at her from the veranda of her home as she sat cross-legged and sifted rice grains.

"I'm going to the market, Makcik(Auntie). To buy some groceries," Nadiah answered politely.

"Baik-baik jalan tu, (be careful walking; she means take care of yourself)"

"I will," She said and continued on her journey. Along the way, some other women greeted her with pleasantries and she would return them before humbly excusing herself. A few cyclists buzzed their bells at her and she would make way for them. The walk to the market was a long one as it was located in a prominent area where all the main buildings, offices and shops were.

She came to a forked pathway and was about to trail down the one on the right when the shrill ringing of a bell sounded from behind her. Thinking it was just another cyclist, she moved to the edge of the path where the grass lay and waited for the bicycle to pass. Only it didn't. She could feel a presence hovering behind her and could hear the blasted bell still ringing. Annoyed, she whirled around only to come face to face with a man who towered over her and one whom she knew well, grinning down at her.

"Could you stop ringing that bell!" She scolded him to which he persisted in glee. "Or I will turn deaf very soon!"

In an attempt to control her temper, she ignored the noise and began storming off in a huff. Harun loosened his grip of the bell and began running after her, blocking her path.

"Woah there," He said, seizing her forearm casually. "Don't be so angry, Cik Adik. (Little Miss) Abang (Brother) was just fooling around."

Goosebumps began to crawl up her arm though she was fully covered. Flinching from his touch, she sucked in a breath. She was furious. How could he have the audacity to touch her like that when they clearly weren't blood related! She kept quiet and continued her pace.

"Nadiah....don't be so upset. Please?" He stared into her eyes with wide puppy eyes while she simply walked by him. "Where are you headed to?" Her anger had already began to simmer but what she didn't like was the fact that he had touched her and acted as if it was proper to do so. She was already beginning to feel uncomfortable especially since they were the only souls on the path and no one else was in sight. She didn't want any bad rumours to spread or be victimised in a scandal even though she had not done anything.

Reluctantly, she answered him. "I'm going to the market. Please, stop following me."

"I could give you a ride! It would be faster!"

"No!" She cried, trying her best not to snap at him. Was he playing dumb or was he really dumb? How could he suggest such an indecent thing? It was not proper for a man and woman who were not married to each other to be alone together. Never mind to ride on his bicycle where they will be close to each other. She would be slaughtered alive by her parents! More so because it was wrong in Islam and she didn't want to do it either.

"Why?" Harun asked with a confused expression on his face as he took a step forward.

"Because we are not muhrims (spouses)," she stated and took a step back, feeling awkward and extremely uncomfortable to be in his presence. Subconsciously, she grasped the scarf she had around her head with a hand, tightening it so that it fully covers her head. Even though they had known each other for years and he was a childhood friend, Nadiah had always had a little dislike of him. She had always found him to be annoying, noisy and plain childish despite the fact that he was two years older. He would play all sorts of pranks on her and her friends when they were young. He found amusement in torturing the singing birds and poultry owned by the villagers by catapulting small rocks at them.

There was even once where he was caught peeping on her when she was taking a bath. She shuddered at the memory even though at that point when it happened she was still a child and had on a batik cloth which was long enough to cover her body. But still, God knows what would have happened had she not been habitualised by her mother to wear a batik cloth when taking a bath and not to be fully nude. It had been years but she'd secretly hoped to God that he had forgotten all about it. Looking at him now, though he was older and no longer pulled such stunts on her, she was convinced that he hadn't changed completely. That the small part of his loony, childish, sadistic self was still looming around. Silently, she prayed to God that he would get the hint and leave her alone.

"Oh..." He answered. "Well, I'll leave you alone for now. But I'll be sure to propose marriage to you soon! Wait for me, my sweet!"

As speed as lightning, he got on his bicycle and winked at her in the process, before riding off, leaving her flabbergasted. At least he was gone and that was the ultimate relief she felt, gushing into her bloodstream. She made it to the wet market with no further interruption.

The wet market never ceased to be filled with people and patrons despite it being late for grocery shopping. Most people would shop for groceries in the morning - as early as after the break of dawn. A line of food hawkers lined the whole street, the smell of freshly grilled Satay(skewered meat) hovered in the air. Nadiah made a mental note to purchase some before leaving and raced to get the necessities her mother had asked her to. Within fifteen minutes she was done with her purchases and she headed straight for the hawker who was fanning the fire with a newspaper and adjusting the position of the skewers on the grill.

"I would like to get 30sticks please," she told the old man. He nodded his head and beckoned for her to take a seat on the stool. She lowered herself and watched the flames flicker with interest, burning the charcoal.

The hawker took off the lid of a pot and began scooping peanut sauce into a clear plastic bag where he tied it up tightly as soon as it was filled. Then he began packing cubed lontong(rice cakes), chopped onions and cucumber into another plastic. Lastly, he loaded thirty sticks of satay and lumped them all together in one big plastic. Handing the man the money, she thanked him and got up, gathering her basket, purse and the plastic bag.

"Nadiah!" A woman's cry rooted her to the spot.

"Eh, Zainab!" Nadiah burst into a grin upon seeing her equally happy best friend running towards her. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a long while!"

The two friends exchanged news about the happenings of their lives in the last few days.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me, have you met Maa'rof?" Nadiah's heart leapt to her throat, the sudden question catching her off guard. Met? Does that mean he's here in this village?

"What do you mean?"

Zainab raised an eyebrow. "Maa'rof is...back? Do you not know this?"

I'm always the last to know. Reluctantly, she shook her head. "I have not seen him around yet. Soon, maybe."

"Oh..."

"How does he look like?"

"He's tall, clean-shaven, wears the songkok and Baju Melayu."

Nadiah gave her a flat look. "Zainab, you've practically described half of the village men."

Zainab shrugged her shoulders. "Well I guess you could say he's very good looking. Oh and quite quiet now."

"Quiet? In what sense?"

"Doesn't talk much. Only speaks when spoken to. The few times I see him around, he's always alone. I guess he likes to keep to himself."

"Oh, I hope everything's fine," Nadiah said as she began to wonder why Maa'rof has become quieter.

"Uh-huh," Zainab mumbled. Then her eyes bulged in surprise. "Oh no! I best be gone now, I promised Mak I'll be home early! I'll see you soon, alright?"

Nadiah nodded and watched as Zainab scurried off, dissolving into the crowd. The noise from the market seemed to fade as she is reminded of Maa'rof. Where did he seem to hide such that she had not ran into him yet? She glanced sideways, studying the appearances of the people present. This was such a small village. Could she have walked by him without realising it? And what about him? Why hadn't he came around to her house to see her? Did he forget her? Or did she mean nothing to him?

That thought made her stomach knot uncomfortably. Realising that it was getting late and her mother would probably be wondering what is taking her so long, Nadiah began to thread home. She rounded a corner and headed towards the exit located next to a magistrate office.

That's when two men - one British, the other a Malay stepped out of the white building. Nadiah thought nothing of it until she saw from the corner of her eye that the Malay man seemed oddly familiar. Doing a double take, she glanced at him who was now shaking the hand of the British man.

She knew who he is. It was the nasty man whom she had bumped into at the wedding. What's a foreigner doing with a government official?

Nearing them, she heard them speak in the language she was still alien to and trying to master: English. The Malay man seemed to be able to speak it well, geared with eloquence and clarity. She wondered where did he learn to speak English from.

"It's a great pleasure to be seeing you again, Mr. Maa'rof. Thank you for dropping by."

"The pleasure's all mine."

Nadiah stared at them in shock, much to their oblivion of her presence. Though she could barely understand what was being said, she was very sure that she'd heard the British man calling the Malay man Maa'rof...