(Continued from PART I - September 9th, 2010)
The “Fit Solution - Amazing Cellular Nutrition from Switzerland” had not been very fit for my body. It had only stayed down for a few minutes. As I mopped the orange mess from the front of my dress and started to get my wits about me again, I suggested we “make a move,” as we say in Singapore. It had been an eventful visit to this neighbor’s apartment.
“Uncle, we’d better get going now,” I call to the Old Man who had left us in his living room with the dogs and my vomit and was eating his dinner with his wife in the kitchen. We were in his home because he’d been trying to convince my Canadian friend LISA and her kids Emmett and Thizbe to adopt his Beagle. And while we were there, he had introduced us to a Pyramid Marketing product that sounded like the fountain of youth.
Awkwardly our menagerie, which also included my dog Jack, and the neglected neighbor girl Yi Hui started to move toward the door. Emmett was the first to open the door and before he’d gone outside where our shoes were left, in typical Asian fashion. The Beagle scooted out the door and past his reach.
Emmett called out and the Old Man started to scramble from the kitchen, as Lisa and Emmett took off after the dog in their bare feet.
The dog bolted straight down the hall past a few other apartments before he came to the top of the stairwell. He didn’t pause a second as he started down the nine storeys. It turned out this was a familiar route for him!
As Lisa and Emmett ran after the dog, I was in no shape to run and stood, still a bit dizzy, in the doorway amidst the pile of shoes. I was trying to will my groggy brain to think fast.
I put Jack’s leash on and slipped into my Barbie pumps. Thizbe, Yi Hui and I headed for the elevator. The Old Man was going to follow.
“Oh! I hope they can catch him!” Thizbe worried, knowing that this apartment block stands next to a busy street. It was rush hour by now. It was dark and and the streets were packed with cars. She couldn’t keep back her tears.
The elevator reached the first floor and we search what’s called the “void deck” for our friends and the dog. We must have been quite a sight to the Singaporeans returning from work. Scrawny Chinese little girl and a preteen with light curly hair, the floppy happy dog Jack, and me in my pumps and orange vomit stained white party dress. We were so intent on finding the dog, on a mission, that we didn’t really notice the others around who were surely noticing us.
The Old Man came down to the first floor soon after and he told us, “She does this all the time.” We continued to search the parking lot and walkways nearby. Upstairs in his apartment, he had just been showing us all of his discipline methods with his dog.
Singapore has many wonderful qualities. It’s an amazing little country. Unfortunately nearly everyone around the world, if they know anything about Singapore, has heard of an American Boy who, years ago, was caned by Police for vandalism. Singapore’s discipline methods are effective and famous, even if outsiders see them as a bit Draconian. Thinking that this Beagle is regularly whacked like this, I wasn’t surprised that the dog might bolt from “caning” at every possible opportunity.
Before too long we heard Emmett and his mom Lisa running down the pathway, the dog with her floppy black ears waving behind her, just out of their reach.
We tried to herd her in near the wall of letter boxes. She was getting cornered.
Emmett came up behind her and managed to get his hands around her hips. The dog turned around quickly and chomped down hard on Emmett’s hand. He cried out in pain and let go as the dog ran out of sight once again.
Now, Thizbe is crying for her brother and the lost dog and Emmett is crying in pain. Everyone is upset for multiple reasons, but eleven year-old Yi Hui is wide eyed and laughing. In her small simple world of this local neighborhood, she has probably never seen such excitement. Emmett’s hand is bleeding and we tell the Old Man that we’ll take Emmett back home to take care of his wound.
Awkwardly we decided who would go up to get Lisa and Emmett’s shoes from the 9th floor, and said goodbye to the Old Man. He assured us that he’d find the dog; he always does. We headed back home to our apartment a half block away, to tell the rest of my family of this crazy adventure.
Emmett’s hand wasn’t too badly injured, and within 30 minutes the Old Man had called to report that he’d found the dog.
As you might guess, LISA and the kids decided they’d not adopt the Beagle. I didn’t buy any Fit-Solution from the man.
At least not yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment