Princess Play (16 page)

Maryam, watching from a window, felt the preliminaries were going on forever, though the process was actually going much more quickly than she imagined. At last,
Pak
Nik Lah bent over the incense and cupped the smoke in his hands, then rubbing them up and down on his face. His incantations became slightly louder, and he rocked back and forth as he chanted. He was beginning his trance.

Maryam and her family sat along the edge of the area where the dancing would take place. Everyone tried to sit as close to her as possible, to hold her hand or arm, to show their support and devotion. Mamat sat to one side, urging her to relax and lean back against him, while Malek sat on the other side, holding Aliza in front of him while Malek's wife, Zahara, held her hand.

All Maryam's friends from the village, and some from the market, were there, as were all her family and in-laws. Osman and Azrina were sitting farther away, among the neighbours. Osman watched anxiously, constantly looking around to see if anyone looked suspicious.

At this point in the ceremony, the crowd was light-hearted and eager. Nothing threatening, or frightening, had been unleashed, and most of the comedy routines were now being enacted. A few entrepreneurs set up small rickety stalls on the dirt path near the house, where coffee was being served, cigarettes shared, and bags of snacks sold out of large plastic buckets. It was a party.

People stopped to say hello to Maryam and Aliza, wish them luck, express their support. Unlike some
main puteri
, where the patients were ill, near to unconscious even, Maryam and Aliza, though thinner and paler than usual, were alert and even excited. In fact, they presided as hostesses at a celebration. They were, therefore, much more fun to talk to.

The music started, still soft and led by the
rebab
, a fiddle-like instrument played by the
tok mindok
, backed up with drums and gongs. The tunes, droning and repetitive, were trance-inducing on their own.
Pak
Nik Lah sat facing his helper and interlocutor, his eyes closed, introducing himself as a variety of
jinn
which then engaged in repartee.The festive air continued, the jokes were funny and based upon Kampong Penambang village gossip (of which,
Pak
Nik Lah had gotten an earful) and Maryam found her anxiety abating as time passed and no ridiculous antics were required of her.

Imperceptibly now, the atmosphere started to change. The music began to speed up, and the comedy was no longer as uproarious.
Pak
Nik Lah took longer to answer than he had before, and the questions put to him became more serious. The incense now seemed thicker to Maryam, and Aliza's eyes had trouble staying opened.

Pak
Nik Lah now rose from sitting to adopt a dancer's pose: down on one knee, his hands curled back and held in front of him.

‘Who are you?' demanded the helper, and when
Pak
Nik Lah remained silent, the question was repeated more loudly. Suddenly,
Pak
Nik Lah was on his feet, dancing with a martial attitude, announcing his name as a spirit who had been spurned, ignored, and therefore had invaded Maryam in order to get the attention he deserved.

He danced around the yard, then danced for a long time in front of Maryam, who began to feel light-headed and sleepy. She watched the
bomoh
, and then her eyes closed and she was no longer conscious.

The
tok mindok
kept pressing
Pak
Nik Lah, demanding the spirit tell them what he wanted, and what would make him leave Maryam and Aliza alone, allowing them to return to the health and energy they'd enjoyed before they were afflicted. There was only silence, and the audience leaned in closer, to hear what this troublesome spirit might demand: scarves or prayers or offerings.

With a sudden roar,
Pak
Nik Lah leaped back, higher than a man his size had any right to leap, and spoke furiously to his helper. He was the
pelesit
, he announced, kept in a bottle (as most
pelesit
were) on a ship, on the sea. A collective gasp arouse from the crowd. This was Murad's
pelsesit
, surely!

He needed feeding, he needed attention, he needed offerings. He'd worked hard for his human owners, and they had not given him what he deserved. (Now
Pak
Nik Lah's face was fearsome, and some of the smaller children watching began to cry as they scrambled towards their parents' laps.) He would desert them! Let them see how they fared without his help.

Mamat and Malek exchanged nervous looks. This looked more serious than they had expected. Malek was thankful Aliza was asleep, or entranced, so she wouldn't receive a further shock. Yi was frightened, but fascinated too, and sat behind his father looking over his shoulder, ready to duck if
Pak
Nik Lah so much as looked his way.

There were frissons of fear running through the crowd. No one expected a spirit they actually recognized. It was too close to home, though the owner's name was never mentioned.

Maryam suddenly rose in one swift motion and assumed a warrior's pose. Mamat sat with open mouth; where had she learned that? She spoke in a loud, clear voice to the pelesit, ordering it to leave her. She danced silat with
Pak
Nik Lah, a martial arts dance, lunging and dancing back, charging, but never being touched.

She spun on one foot, ending in a high kick which missed the
bomoh
by millimetres. And behind her now, close, a faithful retainer, was Aliza, dancing like a sprite: so light, so graceful she hardly seemed human.

The
pelesit
fell back, guided by the
tok mindok
, now crying for mercy, if Maryam would just do him the favour of some offerings – some flowers, a few coins. He promised to leave them, to leave, in fact, his life of bad deeds and service of selfishness if Maryam would but grant him that.

As gracious in victory as she was fearless in battle, she agreed. She danced once around the circle, followed always by Aliza, who seemed to be floating on the air itself and then sat in front of Mamat before falling back, boneless. Malek caught Aliza in mid-fall, and gathered her up into his arms, inexplicably finding himself in tears.

Everyone agreed it was the best
main puteri
they had ever seen.

Chapter XXII

The family gathered back at the house.
Pak
Nik Lah came by to see how his patients were doing – they were both sound asleep. ‘That's as it should be,' he said approvingly. ‘That means it's working.'

Pak
Nik Lah himself looked as though he could use some sleep. ‘It's tiring,' he admitted, ‘but if it works, then it's all worth it.'

Rubiah served him coffee and pressed large platters of cakes on his troupe, now packing up outside. They took their time getting their things together, pausing to eat, drink and smoke, speaking softly so as not to disturb those around them who might be trying to sleep.

Maryam and Aliza were put to sleep together in the children's bedroom, and Mamat turned off the lights and lay down in his own bed, watching the window. It had been an amazing ceremony. He'd seen plenty of
main puteri
in his time, but this was the first time his own immediate family had been involved, and it was an emotional upheaval.

He never expected to be as moved as he was, watching Maryam and Aliza entranced: so brave, so lovely, so graceful. He'd been near to or in tears since Maryam first stood up. He thought he understood now why it was so often successful – the intensity of the trance, the immediacy of the spirits.

(And until then, Mamat wasn't even sure he really believed in spirits, and didn't expect to. But this ceremony had wrenched him out of his everyday existence and into another plane.)

In addition, the anxiety of hoping for a cure, all these things seemed to change the world he lived in. He'd expected a play, to be entertained, maybe be a little frightened. He hadn't expected to feel transported. But now he felt like a different person.

He thought he would fall into sleep immediately, but his mind wouldn't stop racing, so he lay there – alert, awake, considering the nature of the world and of spirits. He heard the noises of the
kampong
at night: the rustle of the doves in their cages on the porch, the settling of the geese in their baskets in the back, crickets and frogs.

It was soothing, after the noise and the crowd of the ceremony. The aftermath seemed so calm, so dark. A slight breeze rustled the palm fronds not far from the house; he could hear Yi turn in his sleep. And then …

He wasn't sure he actually heard anything; had he imagined it? The softest possible footfall. He looked out the window, making no noise, but no shadows moved. He listened again, but the quiet was unbroken.

He was unable to relax now and told himself his imagination would not slow down. He eased himself up so he was sitting up in bed, leaning his back against the wall. He didn't want to get too close to the window, lest he be seen. His ears seemed preternaturally alert now, as though he could identify each individual cricket if he wanted to.

He thought he heard it again, and froze in place. Now the shadows seemed to move; was it the breeze moving the trees? He held his breath, and hoped Malek was awake as well, guarding Maryam and Aliza as they had agreed.

He didn't move his eyes from the window. It seemed an eternity in which nothing moved, no new noises presented themselves. And then, when he had almost convinced himself it was an overactive imagination, he saw a hand slowly come up onto the sill and stay there. And then the other hand. Mamat dared not even breathe. The fingers tightened on the sill, and a head and shoulders appeared, just leaning into the room.

Mamat propelled himself forward and grabbed the head, pulling the body into the room, roaring with rage, calling out to Malek and Daud and Osman, waiting silently in the living room, just inside the door. All the men crashed into the room, there was confused shouting. And then the lights turned on.

Kamal was splayed out on a bed, pinned down by Mamat at his head and Daud at his feet, and Osman already handcuffing him to the bed. All of them were breathing heavily, red in the face, and very angry.

‘Well,' Osman demanded. ‘Explain what you're doing here.'

Kamal looked around wildly, but said nothing. The veins in his neck pulsing, Osman pulled his arm roughly and demanded once more, ‘Talk to me! What do you think you're doing?'

Yi's voice came to them from under the window. ‘
Ayah
! Look at this!'

Four of them leaned out to see Yi holding up a tall but thin wooden box placed under the window. ‘He must have been standing on this,' said Yi proudly.

‘Great work!' Osman smiled. ‘He's a smart kid,' he said to Mamat as he turned to go out and gather his evidence.

‘He gets it from his mother,' Mamat replied, taking a cigarette from the pack Daud passed around. They all relaxed now, congratulating each other while shooting dirty looks at Kamal, who sat morosely next to the bed rattling his handcuffs. Malek kicked his foot out of the way, looked at him insolently and muttered ‘sorry' in the most unapologetic way possible.

Kamal appeared to be in for a very long night. Minutes later, they heard the sound of a police car arriving in Kampong Penambang, and Osman coming noisily up the stairs.

‘Look what I found!' he announced, pushing a dishevelled Hamidah into the room in front of him. ‘She was hiding in the bushes,' he said disgustedly. ‘Can you imagine? A woman her age?'

Her hair was matted in disarray, her face smudged with dirt, her hands filthy and her sarong black at the knees. And she was smiling – a horrible, lopsided smile which made her look like a ghoul.

Rubiah and her husband Dollah were over soon after, as dawn began to break and the first call to prayer broke the sleeping silence. She brought a full breakfast for everyone, and began making coffee and reheating the mound of curry puffs she'd brought as well, should anyone appear to be faint. The night's heroics made everyone hungry and elated, and when Maryam and Aliza woke and emerged, they were greeted with congratulations and cheers. Both were smiling broadly.

‘How are you feeling,
sayang
?' asked Mamat.

She beamed at him. ‘I wouldn't have believed it. I didn't think it would happen. I feel so much better! Like another person!' She looked at Aliza, who smiled back, more shyly than her mother.

‘I think I'm better,' she said, running her hand over the stubble on her head. ‘And I think my hair is longer.'

‘I think so, too,' Yi assured her. ‘I can definitely see it.'

‘When this scar fades,' Maryam announced, as Malek winced – he couldn't bear hearing about the
enam sembilan
mark on her forehead – ‘I'll be as good as new. No one will ever know this happened. Even me!'

Rubiah threw her arms around Maryam, laughing and crying at the same time. ‘I'm so happy,' she whispered to her. ‘I was so afraid.'

‘So was I,' Maryam admitted. ‘But I feel like it's behind me now, or will be soon. I'm going to be fine.'

They both turned to Aliza to admire her. ‘Do you remember any of it?'

‘Not really,'Aliza confessed. ‘Did I dance?'

‘Did you dance?' her father asked, giddy with relief. ‘I've never seen anyone dance so beautifully. Like an angel, like a
bidadari
! It was amazing.'

Malek nodded enthusiastically. ‘Your feet hardly touched the ground!' he assured her. ‘It was something to see!'

‘You were lovely!' Rubiah added, caressing her head for a moment. She then handed her a plate piled with her favourite cakes, and
nasi kerabu
wrapped in a banana leaf. This latter was a hearty Kelantan breakfast of blue rice cooked in coconut milk, topped with fish and vegetables and egg.

‘Now, you'd better eat and get all your strength back!' Rubiah was a great believer in the restorative powers of cakes, which she considered a miracle food.