Bad Lights, Good Lights [Chapter 9.2]

I made a Grace prayer, a a short prayer or thankful phrase said before or after eating.“Allahumma barik lana fima razaqtana waqina athaban-nar.” O Allah! Bless the food You have provided us and save us from the punishment of the hellfire. Slowly, I took a sip of the tea, savouring the hotness of it that fitted the cool morning. I had never liked coffee - there was just something about its bitterness that didn’t suit my taste. I took a bite on the roti canai, pleased with its moderate sweetness, before turning my attention to Damon. He was eating his nasi lemak, but his eyes were on me. Oh well. Couldn’t let the guy wait any longer.

“You have a point about the workers’ purpose of working here,” I said, putting on the measured voice I had used when competing in the debate team a couple of years ago, and remembering the way to start an argument. Damon talked about illegal workers, and I would focus on that. “They’re earning money from their family—I get it. But as you said, some of them come here illegally. That in itself is reason enough for us to doubt them—”

“That’s unfair,” Damon interrupted, putting on a frown. He didn’t realize by doing that he just broke the rule of debating. Well, official debating, but still. I’d allowed him to say his piece. “Despite your words, you’re indicating all of them come here illegally. Just because some of them do, it doesn’t mean they represent the entire community of foreign workers.”

Debate be damned.

I held up my hand, prompting him to stop, which he did. He resumed eating, eyes still on me, unaware of the fire he managed to trigger in me. I made a slight gesture as if beckoning him to get closer, and his head suddenly moved forward, an unknown force seemingly to push it to me. I leaned forward and hissed, “I don’t care if the foreign criminals—the ones who robbed us and ruined our lives—aren’t a reflection of others. I would do anything to stop them from making others suffer.”

I couldn’t forget how Father got angry to us. I couldn’t forget how he would blame us every time the topic about the robbery was brought up. I couldn’t.

I relaxed my hand, and his head pulled back, as if released by a mysterious grasp. We knew, however, that I had used my ability. He stared sharply at me with his black eyes, jaws clenching. “Despicable,” he whispered, gripping the spoon and fork tightly, and that was the end of our conversation.

We ate silently, and I felt like it took a long time. It forced me to ponder about my use of ability and words to Damon. I shouldn’t treat him like this. He didn’t know. He didn’t experience what I had experienced. If he did, he might not be as opposing as this. Perhaps, over time, he would understand. That the actions of some workers would affect how others view them as a whole. That the good deeds the rest displayed to us Malaysians would always be overshadowed by the crimes they made, because the crimes left a bigger implication to us.

I looked up from my food, wanting to apologize to him when I saw he was still staring at me sharply. My intend evaporated instantly, annoyed by how he viewed me. Damn that guy. Why must he bring the worst out of me?

I made another Grace prayer after I finished eating. “Alhamdulillah il-lathi at'amana wasaqana waja'alana Muslimeen.” Praise be to Allah Who has fed us and given us drink, and made us Muslims. Then, my phone buzzed. I fished it out from my pocket, and the screen showed there was a message from Sarah. Worried, I quickly tapped on it to view the message.

We’re done. Where r u?

I let out a sigh of relief; it seemed they were fine. I replied by giving her our location. A few seconds later, another message arrived.

Alright. We meet u there. Wait 4 us. xoxo

I put back my phone, and looked at Damon. I told him about the messages.

He didn’t say a word. His eyes were on somewhere else. Fine. If he wanted to be moody, so be it. I wasn’t here to be nice. I didn’t ask to be paired up with him. We were here just to find out the bad lights’ rendezvous, and that was all. As long as he maintained his cooperation, we were good. But damn it if a small part of me wondered why he cared about the foreign workers too much. He just seemed to be passionate on protecting them. What was his story? I remembered Sarah mentioned he was rejected as a prefect. Perhaps this side of him had something to do with it?

I shook my head, ridding the questions in my mind. I threw my attention to the road instead where more cars passed by. Saturday would be a busy day, what with students of primary and secondary school having their weekly holiday. The One Utama mall must have been crowded right now; it was a popular site for people to spend time with each other. I needed to go there too soon to buy novels I wanted to read. Tomorrow would be busier. I wondered if I had time to just relax and go wherever I wanted.

I drifted my thought to another path--the abduction Sarah’s mother had talked about. The general weirdness of it was disturbing. I meant, there’d be no way for someone to kidnap a girl in a car, not when the car itself was locked in the inside. Probably the girl herself left the car and went anywhere she wanted. But what made the police think it was an abduction, then? Probably the state the car was in. Probably it was messy inside, indicating there was a struggle between the girl and her kidnappers. In that case, shouldn’t people around be aware of it?

I shook my head. Too much to think. I really needed to clear my mind right now.

Unintentionally, I turned towards Damon. Damn it. Right now, I expected no one to be in front of me so that I didn’t have to focus on anyone.

He catched me looking at him. “What?” he asked harshly, his voice leaking irritation. That guy was intense.

“Nothing,” I said. Another thing I couldn’t help to wonder: could Damon be a pleasant guy? If he could, then there might be a side of him that wasn’t completely insufferable.

I would like it if Scarlet spoke up, spilling his wit, but he was quiet right now. Same went to Mauveine. They had to, or else someone might be frowning to us, confused by how there were more voices than people at our table. It was frustrating, though. Talking with Scarlet would be more reassuring than talking with Damon. At least with Scarlet, he didn’t try to argue with me passionately, making me uncomfortable. Damon didn’t care about me—he was so fierce with what he believed.

And Mauveine... well, that light had a sense of mockery. He pointed out Scarlet’s obedience to the royal lights, and how because of that, Flaxen lights despised Scarlet. He also talked about Scarlet being rebellious to Scarlet’s own creator. Those statements clearly offended Scarlet. And it wasn’t just that. He talked about Sunglow, the princess light, not opposing her brethren’s actions, and that royal lights acted like they were gods.

And yet Scarlet said his clan and Mauveine's had no problem with each other. That, while Mauveine shared some of Flaxen’s sentiments, he had the same goals with Scarlet... and what differentiated them was how they achieved their goals. This was interesting. I realized I needed to have a better understanding about the politics in the light world, and how they affected the relationship between the lights. Hmm, yes. This would be a necessary distraction to avoid me from being frustrated over someone’s attitude.