Before my memory leaves me, I should jot this down.
There had been signs that would have been
obvious to other people, but I just brushed them off thinking that it cannot
possibly be true. I always thought they were just him being nice because he had been working for the husband for two years now and he even does the house
chores when they return from work in the early evenings. According to him, this
is what he has been doing, growing up; helping his mom with the house
chores.
He does a nice job and seem to enjoy doing it because he does them consistently
throughout.
The Hugs
I abhor them. Especially when it is accompanied
by a swift kiss on one cheek.
He had been told more that twice and even got a swift scolding from me on a
particularly bad day, that he should watch it and do not attempt to make any
more of that kind of gesture towards me. I told the husband once, but he must have thought that it was one of those usual friendly hugs. He didn't say much about it so I never brought it up again.
I did explain that this is not his country
and that being a married but most of all, Muslim woman, there is a very obvious
barrier between us and men of all races, other than the ones from our
family.
But still, whenever he comes over for the weekly cleaning up of the house, he will always
exclaim "I miss you, ma'am!" and gingerly give me a big bear hug and
a kiss on the cheek which I would dread and try very hard not to wipe off my
face in front of him. Then I will run upstairs to my room and hide the rest of
the day. Like I never said anything about it. Like the telling off I did twice before was not enough.
I had no qualms about his weekly visits to the house for cleaning and tidying
up, until recently.
I always held my arms up in front of me to
keep my fronts touching his and to keep barrier while the hugs happened. The
least I could have done in my discomfort not to seem rude to an older person
who had been kind to us all, all the years we have known him.
But that one hug that made me even more uncomfortable was when one day the kiss
almost, ALMOST touched my lips. As always I would turn my face away from him,
sometimes holding my head in my hands on particularly horrible (my mood swings)
days. I did my best to avoid that kiss and it seemed that he didn't try to make
any other attempt at kissing me, so I thought it must have been an
accident.
Naive you say? Or plain stupid?
Passing judgment is fun. I know. I do it all the time. You should keep on doing too, cuz it will make you feel that you are indeed BETTER than the rest of the
world population.
Will we ever learn that any situation is best described when we go through it ourselves?
I guess passing judgment is much more fun than anything else. Carry on.
Overnight Stays
He doesn't live with me. He is supposed to
be at the house once or twice a week for the weekly cleaning and tidying. Some
washing of the kitchen floor mats, sweeping, mopping and such. I never let him
do my laundry.
And he is not supposed to stay at the house.
I told him he should not be there when the
husband is away and that he should not come too often. I used to drive him back
to his place when he is done. But there are also days when I thought oh let him
sleep here one night, because I was too damned lazy get up and get dressed and
leave the house. That happened once or twice, but he never bothered me with
anything later in the evening and everything was calm and quiet till the next
morning when I will quickly exit the house and go to work, minimizing any kind
of possible contact with him. I have always done my best to minimize contact
with him. I have a phobia of men. A mild one. Thanks to my late father's friend
of making me feel very uncomfortable by teasing me so much when I was a wee
little girl of 3 or 4. Nothing dirty. Stop your nonsense.
Why did he eventually stayed at the house....?
The husband said he will eventually return
home and he will be needing (I'll name him J for the sake of naming him) J's
help with the construction work. Thinking that the husband will be home next
week or the next or the next... and J having finished his work building a house
in a village by the coast, maybe he decided that why move his work things all
over when he can keep them safely in one place at my house and also keep an eye
on the house when I am away.
That lasted 2 or 3 weeks before I left for a work trip to Mukah. I was hoping
against hope that the husband will eventually return and reclaim his place in
this house. Earlier on, I did tell J how shitty things are between the husband
and I. It was just a crazy rant which should have just gone over his shoulders
and forgotten about. I have since moved on and left everything in the hands of
God. But I think it got stuck in his mind and he must have thought that I am
truly suffering in my relationship. The husband's prolonged willful absence
just confirms that the husband had indeed abandoned me to the wolves.
All that marital crap that most people
don't go through, is supposed to be a test and handled intelligently. His
absence never once made me feel like that that would be the perfect opportunity
for me to stray. When I was younger, it might have been a fun idea, but not as
I am approaching 40 in the next 2 or 3 years. No... jumping into bed with
different men while being married to another is and never will be my idea of
fun.
It is plain disgusting.
I am guessing what
started out as pity and sympathy had evolved into something monstrous over the
months in his mind. Everything stayed perfectly the same in my mind. He was an
employee. I am the employer's wife. And he is supposed to be there once a week
to see that everything in the house is in order.
Once on a weekend, as I was cooking
something for a late breakfast before I ran back upstairs into my hiding place,
he quipped "You love him so much but he doesn't love you at all,"
referring to the husband. A sane woman would have gone off the handle. I would
have too if it was not because of the respect I have been having for him as he
was an elder. In retrospect, it was quite bold and ruthlessly rude of him
commenting on the husband in that way. But I reprimanded myself quietly for
foolishly telling him how my marital problems are consuming me mentally once.
That is one of the other reasons why I limit my contact with J whenever he is
at the house. I saw that he was in his little ways becoming bolder. That was
crossing the line between employer/employee.
The Incident
I had to leave for a 5-day trip to Mukah.
I could have taken the bus like the rest of the team. I was supposed to
chaperone the netball team there. But since there is another teacher coming
along for the trip, I thought I would just drive myself. She can stay with the
kids on the bus. Selfish of me, but I need my space and be in control of the
noises and smells I hear and smell throughout the hours and hours of driving. I
might have been able to cope better when I was younger. But at 37, with huge
personal shit, and a seasoned disciplinarian, I do not want to be with a
busload of rowdy male and female teenagers high on hormones for hours and hours
on a cramped rickety old bus. I have had that experience before and I do not
miss it.
So I drove with the two buses and 3 vans. I loved every second of the 16-hour
drive to get there and the 2-day drive returning from it.
Upon reaching town, I sms'ed J asking
where the house keys are. He answered with a terse "At the house
across,". Nothing weird there. I prefer my communication with my workers
to be short and to the point. Drove home, got the keys from the house across
and entered the house. It was lovely coming to an empty house after a long and
tiring trip like that. I just loved that I had the house all to myself.
I uncharacteristically unloaded my car of all my crap and put away everything.
I even pulled out the rubber inserts from the floor of the driver's side and
gave it a few thumps on the porch floor to get the sand and dust off of it and
reinserted it into the car.
And then I went to my room, unpacked, loaded the washing machine and went back
up to my room to shower, pray and rest a little while catching up with friends
on Facebook. Then J sms'ed informing me that he's away in Brunei having his
passport stamped and he will return home shortly.
I wondered why on earth would he want to tell me where he is and what he is
doing when he should no be at the house when I am around. I dreaded the fact
that he will be around when I am all tired and was in no mood more any human
interaction.
Half an hour after that, I heard him
hollering from downstairs like he always does when he comes by, telling me he
is in the house. I didn't even make a sound. Honestly, I was quite irritated by
the fact that he is there when he shouldn't be and that he cleaned my whole
bedroom and even scrubbed the bedroom bath when I specifically told him, just
clean the broken fridge. What other perfect time can I ask him to do that? Of
course when I am away on a trip. But he decided let us clean and tidy up
everything.
And I found he had hung MY laundry, which
included my underthings, which I have never EVER ask anyone to wash. I wash
those myself. My laundry and the husband's is mine and mine to do. The fact
that he took all the dirty laundry that I did not have the time to send to the
laundry before the trip and took the liberty of sorting and putting into the
washer and hanging them up to dry made me feel somewhat violated.
So when he came round, I didn't even make a sound and hoped that he will leave
me alone as always.
After my maghrib prayers, I went downstairs to hang up the washing I had put
into the washer earlier. Coming down the stairs to a dark livingroom, I knew he
was not around. The livingroom is never dark when he is around. I went and hung
the washed laundry as quickly as I can, still in my prayer 'telekung' and ran
back up to my room when I was done. I was never comfortable when any man is
around the house.
Men... outside in the open is fine. In a closed space with me, is a threat, no
matter who they are.
I am broken like that.
But who cares?
In my room, wanting to confirm his comings
and goings, I sms'ed him, "Weren't you at the house just now?"
In reply, I got a terse "Yes, it's
ok... I know you are afraid of me, you never trusted me, I feel that. Don't
worry, I will go back to my place tomorrow. I will never disturb you anymore,
thanks for everything."
I was dumbfounded.
Why on earth would I care where he wants to go?
I forwarded the sms to the husband asking him if J had in fact lost his mind or
gone on a PMS-like symptom of some sort. The husband was dumbfounded as well,
citing stress as the cause to that sms.
The thought lingered and it prompted me to discuss the matter with my old
friends on Whatsapp. They all had a bad premonition. I even texted a colleague
who lives closer to school asking if she would want to sleep over that night.
But of course that was a bad idea and I was too tired to drive all the way to
school just to spend the night at the kampong at their place. I just managed to
say thanks and bid her good night.
I did my Isya' prayers and read 2 juzu' of
the Quran which was a substantial amount of time to let him simmer with his PMS
text message earlier. Then I replied to the text, not suspecting anything, I
thought I should be nice and say something. I just told him I was super tired
and having a bad headache as I supposedly forgotten my hypertension pills on
the trip. I also put in a kind "Are you having family problems back at
home?" at the end.
Then I thought the sms would bring him back to the house which I do not want, I
sent a second one telling him to stay at his place until the husband's return
which would be best.
J didn't reply.
I sensed something bad was going to happen. I don't have women's intuition.
Even if I had, I never listened to them. That night, Allah must have protected
me, like always, and I felt that instead of changing into my usual sleep garb,
it is better if I sleep in my prayer jubbah, which actually belongs to the
husband. It was a dark green thick cotton long dress with thin strips running up
and down the whole thing with three quarter sleeves. It doesn’t cling to the
body not does it reveal the absence of undergarments.
I fell asleep a little after half past 10.
Then the sound of my other cats banging on the door as they always
have when they are playing outside my bedroom door woke me. Or at least I
thought it was. I lifted my head from the pillow and looked at the door. It was
still closed. I had left the lights on because I felt something was not right
before I fell asleep. I laid my head back onto my pillow when suddenly the
thought that it might be him at the door, trying to get in struck me and caused
my heart to beat hard and fast, hurting my chest. Just then, I heard the door
knob turn and before I know it, I saw J walking into my room, coming straight
at me and quickly planting a smacking kiss on my right cheek. I could smell the
alcohol. He was drunk.
Everything went very quickly from there.
I sat up in my bed without my head covered like I usually do. I
went to bed with wet hair. The hair was already dry though. Then he stood by my
bed and started stroking my head with both his hands like one would do to a
small child, all the while saying “I am sorry, ma’am Y, I am sorry…. I am
sorry.”
I thought, what the hell for?
I was confused, I was disoriented. The fact that he was in the same space as I
am in my private sanctuary from the evils of the world was too much for me to
handle. I demanded that he leave the room or I would leave. It seemed that it
took him too long to understand what I wanted him to do, so I got up, yelled
some more for him to leave, but at the same time reaching for the only hijab
that was still having behind the door, I got my handbag and the house and car
keys but before I left the room, he handed me the bunch of spare keys I had
forgotten to put back in my room before I left for the trip to Mukah. I had
used it to open the back room to get some stuff from there and left it hanging
at the door. He said, here are the keys, I will never do this again, I am
sorry. I just threw the keys onto the bed and ran down the stairs and outside
to get the padlock at the gate unlocked. But he was there somehow and he
stopped me. He begged me not to leave and told me that he would leave me alone.
I told him again to stop the nonsense and questioned him for being drunk. It
was the #1 rule in the house. I also told him that the only thing keeping him
near the house was my respect and gratitude for his kindness all this time. He
said sorry repeatedly as we both sat on the patio floor. I was still furious
from his stupidity. So I got off the floor and went back upstairs. I didn’t
think I can feel safe enough being in the same place as he was that night with
him being drunk. On the landing he said to me, “I’m sorry ma’am Y, I don’t know
how to explain, my Malay is not very good. I don’t want you to misunderstand. I
am sorry, ma’am Y, I try you. I am sorry I try you.”
Try me? Try me what????
I shook him off my hands as he was holding it and ran up the
stairs back into my room, locking myself in.
In there, I paced back and forth thinking what should I do? Who should I call?
It was 1am and I don’t have any close friends anywhere nearby. Then I heard him
saying sorry again and again from the stairs. I yelled at him asking him if he
wants to see me jump off the balcony or stop the wailing immediately. I opened
the door to the balcony but jumping was not an option. From that height with
the weight I am carrying, I would have broken both legs and then there would
have been no escape.
I put my hijab back on, grabbed the phone chargers from the sockets and stuffed
them into my handbag. I slung the handbag strap over my shoulder and held it
close to my body. With the keys held tightly in my hand, I yelled to him again,
I am going to leave this house and don’t you try to stop me because by God, I
will push you hard enough to break your neck when you hit the floor.
I opened the door and saw him on the lower part of the stair case below the
landing. I just ran down leaving the bedroom door open and pushed him aside as
hard as I could. He followed me out the door, probably not wanting me to leave
as he knew he was the one who should have left. I yelled at him to stay where
he was, as I unlocked the padlock and pushing the gate open on its slider. I
jumped into my car, started the engine and sped off.
Strangely, I drove to Wisma Persekutuan and parked my car outside the gate. I
figured, if he were to walk home, he will not take that route. There is also
the security guard inside the gates. I messaged my friends on Whatsapp. At 1 am
and there were still people who hasn’t gone to sleep yet? When do they sleep???
They all told me to lodge a police report. Which was impossible
for me because he was a family friend and doing that will cause him to get
deported back to his country and he has to feed 2 young children and put them through
school.
I called the husband. It was a useless phone call. But we did get to resolve
other matters.
I can’t go knocking on a colleague’s door at that hour. I could of course, but
I wouldn’t. Can’t stay at Perdana or Borneo Hotel as I only had RM30 in my
wallet after returning from Mukah earlier. I will not risk withdrawing money
from the ATM at this hour. Besides, both hotels are attached to eateries
frequented by the husband’s acquaintances. Leaving the hotel in my haphazard
getup would have alarmed any who could have seen me leaving the next morning.
How many explaining can one do to stop the gossiping that would soon follow?
I decided that I would just stay at Seri Malaysia. I can just use my debit card
and it would not be as crowded in the afternoon. I can save myself the
embarrassment.
I stopped by at the police station. Placed a cover report. Just in case. Then I
drove to the hotel, checked myself in called the neighbor from the house
opposite to mine. She told me her husband saw what happened and was ready to go
into action in case I couldn’t handle it. He saw me speed off in my car, so at
least he knew I was out of danger. I asked her to watch the house for me and to
tell me when J had left the house. I went
to sleep after some Whatsapp messages with the TESL group.
J sent text messages saying how sorry he was. The damage had been
done. I didn’t reply at first, but then although he had done something really
stupid while being drunk, having crossed that line, I still don’t want him to
do anything stupid to hurt himself. Two years is a long enough time I think to
prove that one is a good friend. And he was. Unfortunately the husband stopped
coming home and he thought I was that kind of person. So I text him to just
leave the house and never come near it again, and also to stop communication
when he tried calling me after that, or he would risk having the police alerted
for harassment and endangerment.
The communication attempt ceased altogether after that.
The next two nights, I slept at Kak Nor’s place. She had been kind enough to
have let me sleep at her place in Aiman’s bedroom.
The fourth night, I decided to sleep at home and just risk it. I had asked
someone to come and install deadbolts on the doors. But he never came. So I
hired a carpenter to do it, but he was busy, so he would only be able to do it
the next day.
Yesterday, the deadbolts were put in place. It took them 4 hours. I gave them
RM100, as the carpenter was unwilling to put a price on the job done. I hate
that. Thinking I would just give them too little or too much, I just said a
number, 100. He said OK, so I handed him the money.
After they left, I cleaned up the
sawdust from all the doors and spent a few minutes trying the locks; locking
and unlocking them a few times. I took the dried laundry off the line, turned
on all the outside lights. I refilled the food bowl for the cats, turned the
livingroom light on and went back up to my room.
It was already maghrib again.
I locked myself in with my two most beloved cats, engaged the deadbolt, after locking
and unlocking it a few times.
Alone again.
I showered, got dressed and did my maghrib prayers followed by my Quranic
therapy.
Slept like a baby last night.
Allah had not forsaken me.
He never did.
He never will.
Alhamdulillah, I will always have Him.
