The house in Bukit Timah

If you flip through my report books documenting my progress as a student , you would see several remarks like this from my teachers.

“ Jackson needs to put in more effort “

“ Jackson needs more motivation “

“ Jackson requires the right drive to excel “

“ there is still chance for Jackson to Excel”

The teachers are just being nice.

The word they would love to use on me is lazy.

Jackson is the laziest student in class. That is a fact.

I could remember as far back as when I was in Primary two when my grandfather was called into the teacher’s office for behaviour problems.

The teacher complained that I always slept in class. She questioned if I was staying up late at home. My grandfather said no and that I go to bed on time at 9.30pm.

However he could not explain why I kept falling asleep in class.

After the meeting, he asked me why I kept doing that.

I simply told him that the class is boring.

Jackson : I already know and understand what the teacher is teaching…..

Grandpa : don’t be a smart ass…. You are not as clever as you think…

I just smiled.

I never argued with my grandfather. He is my only family and he practically raised me on his own. My grandpa had my dad when he was 18. My dad had me when he was 18. This meant my grandfather had me when he was 37.

What the fuck does this do to someone who is 37 ?

37 in this time and age, some of us have yet to become fathers.

Things could not haven been worse for my grandfather. I was an unwanted child. My dad is a sailor according to my grandfather. He met my mum, who is some sweet girl in a good school.

Their romance is something right out of a fairy tale.

Just that the fair tale does not have a happy ending.

I was an accident, it could not have been clearer than that. 1 month after my mum gave birth to me, she left me with my grandfather together with close to two thousand dollars and a weeks worth of baby supplies.

That was it.

My grandfather told me when I was older that she needed to go overseas to continue her education. A bright future awaits her and there was no room for a child in her life.

So at 37, my grandfather is saddled with a newborn, with hardly any idea of how to care for a child and make a living at the same time, he struggled. He really did.

There were few pictures of me when I was a child, even fewer of my grandfather. We simply could not afford pictures. My grandpa did odd jobs and together with the help of neighbours, we fumbled along and the next thing I realised, I was already in primary school with teachers scolding me for being lazy.

It’s true, I am lazy but I’m not stupid.

I just want to find the most efficient way to something with minimal effort.

It’s as simple as that.

It is exactly a mentality like this that got my grandfather an invite for another visit to the school when I was in primary 3.

I was already in the office when he came and I felt bad seeing my grandpa in his dirty work shirt having rushed over from the factory.

My form teacher laid out all my examination papers.

No, I did not get zero.

I got exactly 50 for all my papers except composition.

Wait a minute you say, 50 is a passing grade right ?

You’re right.

Low grades or the lack there of was not the reason my grandfather was invited down to the school.

I got 50 marks because I counted exacted 50 marks and only answered the questions that gave me 50 marks.

Why ?

That was the mark to pass isn’t it ?

Of course, an attitude like this did not sit well with the adults.

I don’t see anything wrong with this.

Let me explain why.

The whole idea of examination is to make sure you comprehend the subject, and you are able to effectively apply the concepts learned.

You will then be graded.

50 is a pass.

50 means you are ok.

Why then do I have to answer all the questions ?

What did I do with the rest of the time during the examination you ask ?

Sleep of course. What else is more important than sleep.

After the lecture by the form teacher, my grandfather asked me why did I do something like that .

Grandpa : studying is good for you… it’s the path to a better future… do you want to end up like ah gong ? …. Doing odd jobs…. Earning so little money…. With nobody to love….. ??!!

I hugged my grandfather and he stopped talking.

Jackson : I love you ah gong…. With all my heart…. I love you….

My grandpa laughed as he stroked my hair.

Grandpa : ah gong will not be around forever… you must learn to be more mature… you must learn to take care of yourself….

Jackson : don’t say things like that Ah gong…. I will take care of you.. don’t worry…..

I patted my chest first and added,

Jackson : this is for my promise…..

Next I tapped my shoulders.

Jackson : this is for my responsibility….

Then I held up both fists in a mock battle stance.

Grandpa : what is that for.

I gave him a smirk look and added.

Jackson : for glory….

He threw his newspaper at me, cursing as I ran away into my room.

Grandpa : SI GINNA!! ( Irritating kid ! )

So if you remembered your primary school days, you will need to take some special exams that some adults come up with. The answers you put down on that paper determines if you are meant for the gifted program or if you are destined to become a farmer like the rest of the population in this elitist society of ours.

Since I was tired of my teachers saying I’m stupid and lazy, I answered all the questions.

When the results came back, my teach could hardly believed his eyes.

Yeah. Jackson is not a dumbass. He is just lazy.

So what if I got good results and an offer to join the program.

It’s not for people like me.

My grandpa is hardly making ends meet.

Transferring school ? New uniforms ? School bus ? new materials ?

Fuck off .

I’m happy if I could have food on the table and spare change for a candy at the end of the week.

I continued my wayward ways with my examination papers and when I was Primary 5, my grandfather got another invitation. This time it was to the principal office.

The same scenario happened. From Math, to Science, to social studies.

50

I answered exactly 50 marks worth of questions.

I got a 95 for composition though.

Again, the same lecture only this time round, the principal put the fear of PSLE into my grandfather’s head.

PSLE I tell you, it’s just an exam but to a illiterate old man charged with raising his grandson, PSLE sounded like stage 4 terminal cancer.

I shit you not.

My grandfather was worried as hell. He took on extra shifts and wanted to get me a tuition teacher. I refused.

I insisted that he stop the extra shifts or I would stop going to school.

He was at his wits end until I sat him down and told him don’t worry.

Jackson : ah gong…. Look at me…. I give you my word…. There’s no way I will mess the PSLE up… ok ??

He relented eventually.

I scraped through Primary 5 and when the faithful day comes for the dreaded PSLE, I answered all the questions.

Yes I know, there’s the bell curve, the averaging and shit but I don’t care.

I just didn’t want my grandpa to worry.

Grandpa : did you fill in all the blanks ? did you answer all the questions ??

Jackson : yes ah gong… yes… I did… don’t worry… hahaha

To celebrate the end of the last paper, my grandfather brought me out to parkway parade. Wywy wonderland, that place is magical.

Grandpa wanted to change $5 worth of tokens for me to enjoy myself but I said just $2 is enough.

Jackson : It’s not easy to make money….

My grandpa smiled and ruffled my hair before pulling my body against his.

Grandpa : If only your father is half as good as you…. If only…

When my results came back, I had 280 out of a score or 300.

My score was only 3 points short of the national record then.

Within days, letters of offers came from schools that the sons of ministers and businessmen go to. Expensive schools.

Ok expensive aside, schools that are far away.

Schools that need to take long bus ride.

Why the fuck would I want to go to a school so far away, when there’s a secondary school just a fucking 5 minutes walk away ?

I don’t care about schools and grades.

At 12, I only want what’s convenient.

And I know saving 4 years of bus fare travelling to and from school would save my grandfather a lot of money.

And so that it. The nearest school, for the laziest kid.

It did not take long for the teachers in my new school to realise what I was up to.

It was a big issue. I’m talking detention, counselling, more invitation for my grandfather.

By then my grandfather had sort of zoned out of the lectures by the teachers and principals. He just nodded and smile, says that he will keep a closer watch on me.

At secondary two, I had a particularly nasty form teacher.

He has a poisonous tongue and he spits words that cuts deep into your skin.

Now, given how thick skin I am with my don’t give a fuck attitude, I was immune to what he says until during a parent meeting session he insulted my grandfather.

That was when I snapped.

Teacher: aiyah…. This kind of kid… from broken family… raised by odd job labourer… sure no future one la….. I’m sure the grandpa outside also lazy lazy kind…..that’s why the grandson follows in his footstep…. Whole family no future and hope one…. … he’s going to fail all the way till his ‘O’ levels….

He was saying it to another teacher but we were well within earshot and he knows it.

I could see it hurt my grandpa and something snapped in me.

I blocked his way and demanded an apology.

Jackson : my grandfather raised me single handedly….!!! He did more for me than anyone ever has….. who the fuck are you to say things like this about him ??

Teacher : what did you just say !!! ?

I repeated my words as my grandpa dragged me away, apologising for my behaviour.

Jackson : fuck you !!

Okay, okay, you don’t need to be a genius to know what the consequences are for a student to give the ‘f’ word to his teacher.

1 stroke of the cane was melted out but oh boy, that’s not all.

That’s not all.

I waited till all the papers were over for the end of the year examinations.

And during one busy recess period where everyone is enjoying their food, I walked right over to my form teacher who was happily chatting with a full plate of food in front of him.

I lifted his plate and smashed it onto his head.

The screams and cheers that erupted etched itself into my head.

Jackson : that’s for insulting my grandfather….now…. watch me fail all my paper….

I walked away as bodies parted for me. My form teacher shouted at me and in a slip of his tongue , mouth obscenities in the middle of the canteen, causing the cheers and jeers to go up a notch.

Other teachers tried to calm him down but the damage was done.

A teacher reciting a string of expletives in front of the whole school ?

Good luck to him.

And as for that dumb act of mine, another 3 strokes of the cane, in public this time, on the fucking stage.

I took all 3 strokes and endured a 15 minutes of shaming and scolding in front of the whole school.

It didn’t bother me at all.

I don’t care.

After the discipline master was done scolding me, I was made to remain on stage for the rest of the speech and prize giving day.

I smiled at the next teacher coming up on stage.

She’s that motherly teacher that you wished is your form teacher. If there can ever be a standard mould for moulding a mould that moulds the future of our nation, Mrs Koh should be that mould.

She’s soft spoken, always polite and all the students respect her.

Respect is something you earn.

I’m not talking just about the studious group of kids, even the most badass gangster in the school bows and speaks properly to Mrs Koh. Students will go out of their way to help her with the books or files she is carrying.

That’s the amount of sway she holds in school .

Mrs Koh started the ceremony by announcing the top student for our cohort that year in each subject.

I saw her shot me a look and it was a particularly awkward moment for the teachers.

Mrs Koh : 1st….. in English….. Jackson…

I did not have to get up from the floor to go up the stage.

I did not have to walk pass rows of students to get on the stage.

I did not have to walk pass teachers sitting at the side of the hall to get to the stage.

I am already on the fucking stage.

The thunderous applauses I got was the small act of defiance my classmates could show. Nobody liked our form teacher and he was nowhere to be seen.

Whistles and cheers rang out as Mrs Koh continued.

Mrs Koh : 1st in…. Literature…. Jackson….

It didn’t stop.

It never stopped.

History, geography, science, Chinese, higher Chinese.

Every fucking subject there is, I aced it. It’ not that I’m smart, it’s just that the bar is low. Half the school is not studying, we’re at the age where we just want to have fun.

From that day on, no one bothered me again. Ever.

Even in secondary three, I did exactly what I used to for my exams.

50 points.

No more, no less.

50 points.

I was marked of course.

Marked and labelled.

Jackson, the problem child. Leave him the fuck alone to his own demise.

Someone probably has a note like this somewhere on my name.

Not only did teachers left me alone, even the school drop outs hanging around with their so call gang members gave me a wide berth. They raised their cigarettes and nod at me as I walked past the void decks where they hung out in droves.

What about the girls ? Of course I got the girls.

Girls like bad boys, they always do.

I have girls lined up stabbing each other in the back to be my girlfriend.

I’m not a robot, I’m a growing kid. I am not immune to growing breast and shapely legs. Especially not when the girls chose to wear fancy cross back bras or those in bright pastel colours while tucking in their white blouse so tight, I wonder if they deliberately bought it a size smaller.

I’ve touched enough breast and kissed all the hottest girls from those in the 1st express class to the Ah lian in the last class.

Upper secondary is definitely an enjoyable period for me. My grandpa finally got promoted to a full time staff in a supervisory position after so many years of doing odd jobs at the factory.

It seems by taking on all the shit that no one wanted to do, my grandpa eventually because the only person to know what is going on.

The factory owner’s son saw the effort my grandfather had put in over the years and the first thing he did after taking over the reins was to give him the position and pay he deserved.

$2900 excluding bonus.

That is a lot of money for my grandpa after having worked and survive on less than 1k for so many years.

Things were finally starting to look good for the 2 of us.

I got Mrs Koh as my form teacher in secondary 4. She knew what I was up to and the only thing she said to me was not to hesitate to ask her anything, if I need to. She left me alone when I slept in class but she would always do one thing the other teachers never did.

She would wake me up after her period was over, asks me a few questions to make sure I understand the essence of that chapter or what shew as trying to teach. If I got it right, she would nod her head.

There are times I got it wrong though and she would smile, before retracting it and throwing me 3 hours of after school detention for me to revise.

I enjoyed her class and I enjoyed my last year in that school. I love it.

The school, the girls and their fancy bras and their sweet smelling hair.

O levels came and well, there’s not something you want to fuck it up. So I did it properly.

Straight As and this time round, invitation letters to some of the best junior colleges in the country.

My grandfather was doing a lot better now as a supervisor and if I wanted, I could go to a JC and then on to university but I didn’t.

I did not want to.

At 16, all I wanted was for my grandfather to rest more while I take up the burden of supporting us. I started work part time after school ended at a landscaping company.

I went the polytechnic route and I worked whenever I had no classes at the same landscaping company. The extra income I brought home, I gave half to my grandfather and the other half was my own allowance.

I love landscaping and plants.

The plants don’t complain, they don’t bitch about people. You can’t have office politics with plants. It was my kind of work. I love getting my hands dirty too and I’m not afraid to say I have green fingers.

Plants thrive under my watch.

You might have bought something from me too if you frequent the landscaping companies located in Kovan just beside the carpark.

I know the plant species well and during Chinese new year, my salesmanship and my business acumen always put the widest smile on my boss’s face.

Plants.

I sell them, I plant them, I nurture them.

I fucking love them.

Selling plants is considered boring on many fronts, it’s one of the most uninteresting jobs ever.

However, my life was about to change because of my love for plants.

I just did not know it yet.

My love for plants would eventually lead me to a house.

A house where the chapters for the rest of my life would be written.

…………………………………………………….

I started with the basics of course at the nursery, mostly manual labour. The foreign workers at the company thought it was weird a kid like me would want to work in such a place.

I did exactly the same things they did. Unloading pots of palms and flowering shrub off trucks under the hot sun.

It felt good working up a sweat. After the unloading, it’s pretty much free time for me since customers don’t come in droves unless it’s around the festivities.

I would wander around the large garden, do a bit of pruning, some rearrangements, sometimes I would just sit and enjoy the shade and smell of the freshly watered plants.

Daisies, roses, sunflowers, palms, frangipanis, bamboo, being surrounded by them on almost a daily basis made me feel as if I’m working in a different country, a different place.

A far cry from the concrete city we live in.

When it comes to selling, it’s simple. Prices were clearly labelled but I was given the liberty to give a bit of discount.

Everyone loves discount.

From $6 pots of mint to a $68 dollar large shrub of rosemary, I can sell anything. I could bullshit about how bamboo would fit into a rich man’s garden and how having a water feature would help keep his mistress from straying.

I even sold a Japanese pagoda to a English man who left his wife and married his Chinese colleague.

I shit you not, I sold Venus flytrap and pitcher plant to the boss of a pest control company.

He says no way my plants is more effective that his chemicals in controlling pest population.

I gave him my honest reply.

Jackson : of course la boss… your one is weapon of mass destruction ley… insects sure die en mass..…. My plants…..is for national geographic documentary one….conversation starters……i ask you I ask you…. You single right…. You single….

Boss of pest company : what has that got to do with this…. ??

I noticed he is without a wedding ring but what really gave him away was I overheard him on his phone earlier asking his friend to hook him up with another girl for a date.

High chance single eligible male.

Jackson : imagine you trying to strike a conversation with a girl about your work….which one is a better conversation started…. Bottles of chemicals…. Or these….

I pointed to the 2 pot of carnivorous plants.

Jackson : Natural…. Organic pest control….the inspiration behind the values you founded your company on….. Striking a necessary balance…

I stopped talking and wait for my bullshit to sink in.

Boss of pest company : that is absolute bullshit bro…….

There was a 2 second pause as he looked at the plants.

Boss of pest company : …………….. but i’ll take it…

Jackson : thank you boss….

I would give the occasional bags of fertilisers if I like the customers, sometimes I threw in a free pot. If I see kids running around, I might pass them a marble or two while their parents browse my wares.

I knew the other bosses and employees along the entire stretch of nursery.

Some of them gingerly commented that their kids don’t even want to come down and help out, choosing to settle for work in an airconditioned office.

Well, it’s their lose.

I come to work in shorts, singlet and flip flops most of the time. There’s really not a lot of work out that that can go with my choice of attire.

My grandfather told me manual labour and gardening don’t pay. I know that, but it’s something that I enjoy doing.

Grandpa : Singapore is not a place you get to make a living doing things you enjoy…….

Jackson : but if I don’t try….i’ll never know right… ? hahah

Grandpa : hahaha…. True.. true… ah gong don’t have much for you but I can guarantee you a roof over your head…the rest… you got to figure it out….

Jackson : That is more than enough for me….

My classmates thought my choice of part time work is weird too.

I don’t blame them.

I did a business course in polytechnic and my friends were saying if I loved plants that much, I should have gone and do something related.

Botany or something, landscaping, built environment.

I told the girls I wanted to start my own business and manage my own empire in the future. Shit like that sounds good to girls.

I was a little more candid with the guys.

I went to the business course for the girls. I hooked up with my first girlfriend in polytechnic within the 1st month.

At the end of the 1st year, I pretty much went though all the girls that looks above average that any guy would want to bed as long as you are not gay.

This pretty much meant I was labelled as a jerk by the end of the 1st year.

Well the truth is I don’t want to be too specialised in something. Dreams may be dreams but I’m well aware of the need to pay my bills and to take care of my grandfather.

I went through the list of courses available, not interested in engineering, not IT, not really into design. Business is pretty broad base, covers a wide range of subjects and it allows me more options when it comes to looking for a proper job after graduation.

I continued working part time for the landscape company until I graduated and when it’s time for me to enlist in the army. My boss wanted to go back and help whenever I can and I agreed.

Weekends after I book out, I would pop by for a few hours, make some extra dough, then head back to spend time with my grandfather.

The longer I worked at that landscape place, the more convinced I was that I wanted to go into it full time.

Not as an employee.

I wanted to be my own boss.

I told myself that every hour I put into the part time work then was me getting my experience level up.

One day, when I’m ready, I will take the plunge.

One day.

First, I need to get my national service out of the way first.

Now when it comes to the military, I have it all figure out. It’s really simple actually so for those who has yet to serve, take it from the old bird here.

Just stay low profile and invisible.

Really invisible.

No, I can’t do the minimum in the army, you’re going to get marked for death literally.

I can’t go all out thumping my chest, people will roll their eyes at you.

Stay in the middle of the bell curve.

Average brother, average.

Don’t be the first, don’t be the last. Stay in the middle and keep your mouth shut.

I ran at a comfortable pace, I did what I was told, and I kept my head down and smile. 2.5 years will pass in a breeze.

When it’s time for the acting session for everyone to demonstrate who has leadership qualities, I had to stop myself from laughing at some of the antics my fellow army mates were displaying.

Almost everyone wanted to be a commander, it was drama at it’s best.

Boys in the middle of transition to men or so they say are expected to roleplay and within that few hours, someone will determine if you are meant to be a leader.

When it was my turn to cross an obstacle as the commander, I did not even hesitate. I immediately asked for suggestions and I took the one that made most sense and needed least effort.

Least effort is the key. I didn’t even want to think of a solution on my own.

Jackson : that is an excellent idea brother…. We shall do that… hahahah…. You’re in charge…. Let’s do it.. come on !!…

After the whole situational test is over, I was pulled aside by the officer who was evaluating us.

Officer : Recruit Jackson…. Why…

Jackson :why what Sir…. ?

Officer : While everyone is trying to demonstrate what they can do….….. I see you spending the time trying hide from others what you are capable off…..leadership…. cannot be taught… it’s either in you or it’s not….. some people struggle with it their whole lives…..

Jackson : I just want my 2.5 years to pass…… I don’t want the responsibilities of having to take care of others….. and… I’m pretty sure I didn’t demonstrate any leadership qualities….

Officer : No you didn’t demonstrated any…….you merely put in the extra effort to hide any that you might have………

I was a little taken aback by that statement as he walked away with a smile.

Officer : …….what a waste….what a waste… haha…

Keeping to myself worked out pretty well for me for the first couple of months until something happened.

A man paid me a visit once day.

It was out of the blue, I was pulled out of my bunk and told to report to the office for some administration matter.

A man named Owen introduced himself to me.

Owen : Hi Jackson…. My name is Owen…. And I have a proposition for you….

Jackson : huh ? … why me….

Owen : We’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while….. since back when you were in school in fact…. You’re athletic….you’re fast… you can talk….and of course…. You topped your cohort in terms of results…… you are smart…. And you are low profile….. You’re raised by your grandfather…..I could go on…and on….

I said nothing and I just looked at that man.

He’s not in uniform, he came empty handed.

There were no other officers or staff in the office, just the 2 of us.

He’s waiting for me to talk, to ask him what he wanted but I’m not doing it.

Why should I ask when it was him who came to make me an offer.

We stared at each other for close to a full minute before Owen smiled and nodded his head.

Owen : We have…. An offer for you …. A career…. Like no other….

Jackson : err…. I’m not interested in signing on with the army….

Owen laughed.

Owen : I’m not with the army…..

Jackson : then where ?

Owen smiled and just raised his eyebrow.

Jackson : ermm… Navy… ? Air force… ?

He shook his head.

Owen : We…. Are a special group of people….and we do things that needs to be done…. In unconventional ways…… if necessary…

I slammed the table with my eyes wide apart and pointed excitedly at him.

Jackson :OH!!! OH!!! OH!!!…. FUCK!!!.. James Bond shit !!! you’re doing those James Bond shit right !!!!

Owen was a little taken aback at my outburst and with my enthusiasm.

Owen : Well… not exactly….

Jackson :No need to explain… sign me the fuck up… !!!! will I get paid… ? Do I get to drive an Aston Martin !!!! Bentley!!!…. I want a suit….. a tailored one…. What about my annual leave… bonus….. is this considered signing on ? …. Is there an official contract.. ?

Rubbing my hands eagerly I could see Owen trying to get a read on me.

Jackson : what ?

Owen : I usually don’t get this level of enthusiasm …. From potential recruits….

Jackson : Why not…??!!!

Owen leaned back on his chair and asked me some questions. I gave the right answer to them all.

Jackson : I will die for my country !!!!!! I WILL!!! I swear !!! confirm plus chop!!! Anything !!! I’ll do it !!! I swear my loyalty…. My allegiance…. Anything ….!!

Owen nodded his head after talking to me for 15 minutes before saying he will consider all applicants before getting in touch.

I smiled and shook his hands eagerly, giving him a thumbs up before he went out the door.

The moment the door closed, the smiled disappeared from my face.

He came in so cock sure he had me.

He came in empty handed, he said he’s been keeping an eye on me for a while.

I assumed he has access to my academic details, my performance in the military is average at best. Someone probably tipped him off about seeing someone with potential, that’s why he came.

He wanted to see if there is an unpolished gem for him to discover.

What made him come is not my academic past, it’s the notion that I can remain unnoticed and exists as an unpolished gem in a place where most are looking to excel.

He wanted that sense of control, or in my case, my desires to remain unnoticed.

I massaged my jaws and face, the exaggerated expressions must have pulled some muscles I seldom used. I left the office and I saw Owen talking to my Platoon commander.

I waved excitedly at him and gave him 2 thumbs up eagerly.

He put on his sunglasses and left.

Well, that’s the last I’m going to see of him I think.

Money, fame, glory , James bond stuff ? Not my style.

Simple, comfortable and a happy life with my grandfather, that’s what I’m talking about.

Bringing him overseas, sightseeing, holidays. Those are what I really wanted.

My time in the military flew by and I started work at a logistics company as an operations executive.

On weekends, I would still go back to the nursery to help out, not so much for the money, but more of my interest and to reconnect with my bosses and colleagues who were so kind towards me all these years.

With a stable job, I finally did what I wanted to do ever since I was a young boy.

I can confidently say that was the proudest moment of my life.

For others, it would be owning a fancy car, a nice watch, a big house, maybe a trophy wife.

For me.

That moment came when I took a taxi with my grandfather to the airport together.

He held in his hand the first passport he ever owned in his life.

The look on his face, the expression, that anticipation and nervousness cannot be easily described with words.

My grandfather had never been on a plane, he had never been out of the country. It’s just a short 4 day trip to Bangkok, something most Singaporeans would not even bother mentioning.

To my grandfather though, it was the experience of his lifetime.

He was so excited to be on a plane, I will always remember that grin when that SQ stewardess came and asked what he would like for lunch and he smiled cheekily at me while watching her bend low to serve him his meal.

He was always laughing and taking pictures with the digital camera I gave him.

He wanted to try all the street food, we drank beer at A go go bars, we zoomed through traffic in a Tuk Tuk. At the end of every day, he would collapsed in exhaustion in the hotel only to get up at 5am in the morning.

Grandpa : Jackson !… get up…. I’m ready….

That was the first of the many trips we would take together and it was the happiest period of my life.

China, Korea, Japan, Australia, India, Taiwan, Vietnam, Cambodia.

We did them in that order. 2 trips a year, 1 short, 1 long.

Malaysia was reserved for the last because it’s right beside us. My grandfather wanted to keep it towards the end when he was no longer as mobile. We can do a self drive trip up north, maybe visit his distant cousin he kept in contact with.

We were going to do Europe next and I had the itinerary planned but something unfortunate happened.

My grandfather had an accident in the bathroom.

He fell.

He was not seriously hurt, had a minor fracture on his ribs because he hit the basin on the way down, but the xray revealed something else.

There appears to be some fluids in his lungs.

A more detailed checked revealed that my grandfather has lung cancer.

Stage 4.

I didn’t know what to say.

I don’t remember crying much as a child but I cried that evening.

Not in front of the doctor, at home, in my room.

What the fuck is this ?

Lung cancer for someone who has never smoked in his life.

My grandfather was affected by the news too and the thought of spending money on his treatment bothered him the most.

He didn’t want to waste money.

Grandpa : Ah gong old aready… don’t waste money on me….

Jackson : don’t you dare say things like this !!….

Grandpa : Jackson…..

Jackson : NO!… don’t worry about the money….. just get well… we still have so many places to visit together… !

Grandpa : Jackson …. I know you meant well..but…

Jackson : I will not have this discussion….. this is not negotiable….i have money… a lot of money….. don’t worry about it and just get well…..

We stared at each other for a while before I hugged him.

Then I broke down.

Life is so unfair.

My grandpa held onto me and he told me softly.

Grandpa : all men must die…..

Jackson : Please don’t make me beg…. I have never begged you for anything before….

I spent the night planning everything out in my head.

I know how much I can put away each month in terms of savings. I can double up my hours at the landscape company for a little more. On weekday nights, I can take up some part time shift at fast food restaurants.

My grandfather is insured but only the a very basic plan. We’ve live on bare necessities when I was young, no reason why we can’t do it again now.

It was an emotional evening and when I finally went to bed, it was close to 4am in the morning.

When I work up with a jump at 10am, my heart was slamming against my ribcage.

I jumped out of bed.

I knew something was not right the moment I open my room door.

My grandfather is gone.

He packed some clothes, took his passport, his phone and charger and he’s gone.

I immediately tried his phone but it was off.

I dashed out of my place, running to the nearby coffee shops and places he usually hangs out.

There were no signs of him.

The neighbours he usually drinks coffee with in the morning says they never saw him. I went to his work place and was told he called in and quit.

He did not even want to collect the rest of his pay. His boss asked me what happened and I filled him in.

I went back home and tried to calm myself down.

Surely he would have left behind some clues as to where he is going.

I went to his room and started to open up every cabinet and drawer.

He left me a letter placed beneath 3 metal tins.

3 biscuit tins, clearly labelled with his own handwriting on old pieces of recycled paper.

Jackson university.

Jackson wedding

Jackson house.

Inside the tins were rolls of money. A mixture of old and new notes going as far back as the bird series.

I opened the letter and the contents broke my heart into so many pieces.

I expected a long letter, a lot of words. Stuff he wanted to say to me, things he wanted to tell me. It struck me then that my grandfather was illiterate. Aside from the very basics like his own name and mine, he hardly ever wrote anything.

It was written in broken English. The handwriting is uneven and the alignment is non-existent.

My grandpa’s vocabulary is limited but with those few words, his intent and what he wishes to communicate could not be clearer.

“ Jackson, You always in Ah gong heart. I love you .

Let me go. I don’t want to die in hospital.

I don’t want needle inside my body and rubber out of my nose when I die.

I want to be free. You are very young, you have to live your life.

I cannot be heavy luggage. I cannot be useless old man pulling you slow.

Jackson, if you wear my shoes, our place change, you will do the same. I know.

If I can choose my life again, I will still choose the same, with you together.

I have no regrets be your grandpa. I love you Jackson. “

I sank onto the floor.

Sometimes I feel like strangling that stubborn old man but what he said is true. I would have done the same if I was in his position.

I made a police report to say that my grandfather is missing.

I kept trying his phone but it was off all the way.

2 days later I was informed that my grandfather had left the country into Malaysia the day I reported him missing.

I knew he had a distant cousin he kept in touch with occasionally in Kedah but other than that, I have no other information.

I checked his personal belongings and he brought along his atm cards.

I taught him how to withdraw money overseas during our first trip to Thailand.

That’s a good sign, bringing money and atm cards gave me some hope that he is not going to do something stupid.

I just need to follow the money trail.

There was no need for private investigators or anything dramatic.

It was a joint account with me but I don’t use it.

I had opened it for my grandfather for his savings that he wants to keep aside for travelling.

I updated the bank book and I saw withdrawals made in Ringgit. I called the bank and asked for the location.

It’s in Kedah.

Now all I need is to verify that it was my grandfather who was the one doing it and that he is safe and sound.

I rented a car and I drove all the way to Kedah, to the town of Bandar Alor Setar. It took me 9 hours and I went straight to the location of the ATM that the withdrawal was made.

I opened up a map of the area.

It’s a small town and the ATM which the withdrawal was made is at a petrol station near a Macdonald.

He withdrew 500 Ringgit, not a big amount. He’s alone in a foreign land and I don’t think that amount is going to last him for very long especially if he needed to find lodging and food.

I scouted every ATM within a 300m radius. I crossed out those that are too far out of the way from the initial ATM the withdrawal was made.

Those that are in dimly lit places, I cross them out too.

Within the immediate area, I reckon that’s only 3 that my grandpa would visit if he needed to get more cash and if he is still within that area.

Being a small town, a lone traveller especially one like my grandfather would surely stand out. He probably took a bus, then perhaps a cab. In a country where most people drive, someone walking about on foot would surely stand out.

I tried the staff at the petrol station, asking workers from both shifts and showing them photos of my grandfather. They didn’t notice him.

I know my grandpa is a creature of habit. He needs his coffee in the morning.

There are 4 coffee shops within the vicinity.

I went to the one closest to the petrol station and waited.

It was the only thing I could do.

It took me 3 days. 3 days of living out in the car and washing myself up in public toilets before I saw my grandfather.

It was 6am in the morning and I had just washed my face at the petrol station bathroom. I was holding a soft drink in hand when I saw him.

He’s not alone.

Looking every bit the fit and strong man that raised me, my grandfather was pushing someone on a wheelchair.

The man in the wheelchair looked familiar. I cycled through the old photos on the wall in my grandfather’s room in my head and finally put a finger to that man.

It’s his cousin. He visited us a few times before many years ago.

I kept my distance and watch them go to a nearby coffee shop for breakfast.

They spent an hour there before heading back.

I tailed them and saw both of them enter a nursing home tucked away in a quiet street of residential units.

I waited till I saw staff driving out of the nursing home and I followed the staff to the restaurant where they are buying their lunch.

I identified myself and showed pictures of my grandfather to the 2 staff who was too surprised to say anything.

They confirmed that my grandfather had checked himself in and his cousin is staying there too.

I begged for them to put me in touch with the nursing home administrator.

It was a lady in her fifties. Mrs Toh.

When we parted ways, I settled all financial matters with Mrs Toh.

If my grandfather wanted to stay there, I can’t force him to come back.

I stayed in the area for another day before my grandfather called me.

I answered immediately.

I could see him from where I stood. I had parked my car diagonally across the street from the nursing home.

Grandpa : Jackson….

Jackson : Ah gong…. Are you ok ? … are you feeling better…. ?

Grandpa : yes.. yes I am…. I am in Malaysia….

Jackson : why don’t you want to stay with me….?

Grandpa : You have a long journey ahead of you…. I don’t want to…. Hold you back….

Jackson : what about me… ? how about your own journey in life when a baby is thrust into your arms more than 20 years ago….why didn’t you just let me go so I won’t drag you down….

Grandpa : Si Ginna !! ( you rascal ) … ! don’t be rude to me ! ….

Jackson : You can come back and hit me if you want….

He stayed on the line but said nothing for a while.

Grandpa : Jackson……I don’t want you to worry about me….. I want you to chase your dream…. Can you do that for me…. ?

Jackson : my dream … ? to be a gardener …. ?

Grandpa : ahahahah… if that is what you want….do it…. Do it properly…. Be the best there is…..

I was quiet for a while before I told my grandpa that when he is ready to come home, I will be there to pick him up.

My grandpa was walking around the yard of the nursing home when he froze.

He suddenly realised my presence across the road.

He turned and our eyes met from where we stood.

I could hear the nasal voice over the phone. He sniffed and I knew he was crying. I felt the warm roll of tear fell down my cheeks as well as we acknowledge each other from that distance.

Grandpa : stop crying !… what did ah gong tell you …? !! real men don’t cry !!!

I laughed.

Jackson : I’m not crying…. My eyes are sweating….

He laughed too before turning his back at me. His left hand shot up and gave me a curt wave before heading back inside the nursing home.

Getting back to Singapore, I spent a few days thinking about what to do next.

I’m not doing what I really wanted to in my day job.

So I quit.

I went back to the landscape company and asked for a full time position.

My boss, Mr Keng, could not afford to pay me too much. 1200 is the max he could afford.

It’s ok. It’s a start.

I value added to the company by offering gardening and landscaping services on the side.

In that way, I can cross sell the plants and my services.

Mr Keng did not take a cut off my gardening and landscaping services, he knew it was something I enjoyed doing, besides, I’m helping him move his plants sales with every new job.

I used my savings and bought a cheap weekend car, it was for my drive u to Kedah. It was cheaper than renting. Sometimes when needed, I used it for work too. The boot held all my gardening tools.

It took about a year or so before I started to make a name for myself in the market. The young and hot gardener they say.

Somehow most of my clients are wives of rich businessmen.

They were upfront when I arrived at their place.

“ If weather is too hot….. need to shower…. Or wash up…. Come in for a drink ok…? Singapore weather so hot… “

The hint could not be more obvious.

I did not get paid for sleeping with the rich men’s wives, I get paid to keep my mouth shut.

The first was a hot milf in her mid thirties watching me toil half naked in her garden while she leaned against the patio and eating a banana with a grin.

Jackson : Ok mdm, it’s done…. Don’t step on the carpet grass for 2 weeks…. And I will come back to check on the frangipani….. leave the support there for a while….

I told her that while holding a dirty spade in my right and muddy gloves on my left, all the while my sweat was dripping down my head and onto my half naked body.

I pointed to the patch of grass that is right beside the swimming pool to remind her to keep that area clear from the swimming pool water if possible. The chlorine might wreck havoc on the new plants.

Jackson : don’t get that spot wet….

I never expect her to throw the banana peel on the patio as she dragged me into her house by my arms.

Hot milf : It’s already wet….

I didn’t expect that to happen honestly. It was an accident but somehow news got around.

A discreet gardener that is guaranteed to satisfy your needs.

There must be some rich wives club I’m not aware off but I’m not complaining.

Out of 10 jobs, at least 1 would end with added services.

I used to think men are the sick ones, that we have fetishes and desires that are too dark to be shared.

It seems that the women held their own court too, it’s just that they are more discreet about it.

In the pool, on the dining table, on the staircases, their private home gym while balancing on a gym ball.

The weirdest one ever was having her 2 helpers do housework right in front of us while I fucked her brains out standing doggy at the grand piano.

I asked her won’t she get into trouble if the helpers tell on her.

She told me the helpers told her that her husband does the same thing with whores in their house, no reason why she can’t do the same.

Rich people and their weird world, something I would never understand.

The helper even brought me a towel to shower after I was doing fucking her boss.

I work 6 days a week, and on the last weekend of the month, I would make the 9 hour drive up to Kedah to visit my grandpa.

He’s generally ok, you can’t tell he’s ill from the surface. He isn’t getting any particularly bad symptoms as well. He looked totally normal. I wanted him to come back for a checkup just to see his condition but he refused.

He didn’t want to know, besides, he’s enjoying himself.

The slow pace of life, the gardening. Walking and helping with a bit of cooking in the nursing home.

It kept him busy and active.

He asked if I was happy doing what I did and I told him yes.

Jackson : working and creating gardens in homes that I would never be able to afford in my life….. it’s my dream man…

Grandpa : hahahah

I didn’t see the need to tell him about my extra activities of providing pleasures to unsatisfied wives.

Now, at the back of my head, I knew it was a matter of time before some angry husband realises the gardener is fucking his wife. I’ll probably get punched or have someone create a ruckus at the nursery, there is nothing much I can do but prepare myself mentally for that day.

I wanted to stop but it was quite hard to because when the clients came, they came with recommendation.

“ Mrs Fong recommended you, I hear you are a hard worker “

“ Mrs Theresa says you gave her garden a good trim “

“ Stefanie told me you made her scream in joy with your handiwork “

“ You come highly recommended by Mrs Koh…she told me you ploughed her garden up real good…. Something her husband never did “

I did not want to sink too deep into this mess so I made a deliberate attempt to taper down my extra services and I rejected a few recommendations, but some are just too hot to resist.

That day that I’m afraid of finally came. I knew I was in trouble the moment I saw the vehicles.

It was a Monday morning in December of 2014.

15th December 2014.

11am

I was checking off a list of plants I needed to do up a small garden when I saw 3 cars pulled up in front of the nursery.

They did not park, they stopped and a dozen men got out. The cars drove off, leaving the men at the entrance.

Jackson : oh fuck…

At the back of my head, I knew they were here for me.

I tried to remember who was my last client that had extras and remembered it was a 29 year old mistress of a developer who was neglecting her.

She came out to the garden in sports bra and her panty. I shit you not, a cotton panty. Then she offered to help me when she was just trying to reveal more of her body to me.

My snapping point was when she straddled my spade and held it up like she was riding a broom stick.

29 year old mistress : do you like Harry Potter….? This is me riding Nimbus 2000…..hur hur….

She yanked at my spade a few times and asked she wondered if Jackson would make a better ride than her Nimbus.

We fucked for 2 hours straight and she was trying to cover her mouth with her hand as we plastered our bodies against the full height windows overlooking an expressway.

She wanted to keep in contact but I told her I will be done with the garden in a couple of hours. I would prefer for the project to end if you get my drift.

The men were talking loudly up front.

This is it, I’m so dead.

I slowly backed away to the yard behind the nursery.

I can climb out through an opening at the back. Maybe I’ll drive straight to my grandpa’s nursing home and lay low for a couple of weeks.

Mr Keng : Jackson !!! JACKSON!!! …

Jackson : huh…. Yes… yes…

Mr Keng : come… come !!! hahaha… come !!! there are people I want to introduce to you….

Keng literally held my arm as he dragged me behind him. He was never this eager before.

I reluctantly followed my boss into the office. I was trying to think of an appropriate excuse but my mind could not work fast enough.

The men in the office all turned and looked at me.

I could tell the 3 up front are the ones in charge, the rest hanging around the back are the henchmen.

There’s a bald guy with huge eyes glaring at me.

His head is not straight but slightly angled to his right. He was in berms and t-shirt and he’s wearing an expensive pair of sneakers.

There are multiple visible scars on both his legs.

He was the one closet to me. He came closer and eyeballed me. I looked at him and gave an uncomfortable smile. He’s looking at me as if he was short sighted and forgot his glasses.

Declan : Seven …. Back off ….

Seven, that bald guy is called seven ? “

It suddenly struck me why he was called Seven.

He looked like the guy who acted as ‘ghost leg seven’ in the classic Huang Fei Hong show. The guy who’s good with his legs.

Declan : Hi Jackson….. My name is Declan…. My friend Keng….says you are a good gardener…..

I looked at my boss who was wiping perspiration from his face.

His expression and body language did not tally with Declan’s claims that they are friends. He’s looked nervous as fuck.

Declan is probably the oldest in the room. I would put him to be at least early to mid sixties. He’s fit, well dressed. He was in pants, shirt and a chic black vest.

His moustache gave him an air of authority and he looked like some old Marshal in a Chinese civil war movie.

Jackson : err… hi…. What can I do for you…. ?

Hong : WE NEED A GARDENER LA….. WHY ELSE WE COME HERE !!!!

I jumped when he shouted almost point blank into my face.

What the fuck is his problem.

Declan : Hong…… Hong…. can you…. Lower your voice…. You’ve going to make me deaf….

Hong : MY VOICE IS ALWAYS LIKE THAT ONE !!!

Hong looked like someone who skipped legs days even though he visits the gym regularly. He’s big, broad shoulders and arms, his blonde hair is dry and messy, gives off a vide that he belongs in another era.

He wore a black top with the words ‘ I tea dance at Sparks’

His eyes is small compared to Seven but his presence nevertheless is felt not only visually, my eardrums are on the verge of being damaged.

Declan : Jackson … I apologise for my…..

He was waving his hands in the air trying to search for a word to use for the group of men around him.

Jackson : colleagues….

Declan snapped his fingers and lit up with a smile.

Declan : yes… yes… colleagues… you see… erm….. my…. My…… my…..

He looked around him and I could see him trying to think of something.

He had the word but he didn’t want to use it.

I looked at the gathering of men inside my boss’s office.

These guys are thugs.

Definitely gang affiliated. Keng looked like he was on the verge of shitting himself. I saw him shoo the other workers away when they were approaching the office.

He even waved for his wife to go away when she came back with coffee from the nearby hawker centre.

I looked at the needle marks on one guy’s arms and he rolled down his sleeve as he blew his nose onto the floor of Keng’s office.

I swallowed a gulp of saliva.

I don’t remember fucking the wife of a gang leader or triad.

Declan : I can’t think of a nice word….. to describe…. Ermm…

I looked at Declan and offered one.

Jackson : organisation….

Declan snapped his finger at me excitedly.

Declan : yes… yes…. Organisation !!!… hahah… organisation…. You are brilliant…hahaha….

He told me that they needed someone to maintain and build a new garden for their employer. They have went through a few but none have made the mark and their employer is very disappointed.

Declan : When my employer is disappointed….. she gets angry…. When she gets angry…. We… as employees…. Suffer…. You know what I mean…. ?? we have heard very good reviews about your work…. And we like the fact that you operate as a one man outfit….

Jackson :errr… ok….

Declan : because you see… my employer… takes security very seriously….and the lesser ….. err….. strangers we let in…. the better it is for all of us….

Jackson : errrr… I see…. Ok….can I know… what is unsatisfactory…. About your past gardeners….

Hong : YOU ASK SO MUCH FOR WHAT !!! GIVE YOU JOB YOU KNOW….

Declan : Hong please… my ears….., please wait outside with the rest of your men….. Seven can stay….

Turning to me, Declan added at Seven can’t speak, so there’s no risk of him damaging our eardrums.

Hong did a weird chomping motion with his jaw at me as he gestured with his men to head outside.

Declan : well… the past gardeners we got…. They have a bit of a checkered past… you know… they stole stuff… they don’t really perform and the garden is in terrible shape….and we have such a nice piece of land……it’s a very big property of course….a lot of potential…

I looked at my boss and his eyes were literally pleading for me to say yes. It was not hard to put two and two together. He owes them something, probably money.

There is that guilty look on his face, as if he was ashamed that he had to use me to get out of this fix.

Jackson : ok sure… I mean… if you…. Can give me some pictures…. Drawings…. I can work out a proposal…. And send you a quotation…. ?

Declan leaned back on the chair and looked at Keng.

Declan : You didn’t tell him… ?

Keng : I… I was going to….i didn’t expect you to come first thing this morning….

Jackson : tell me what ?

Declan : that you are going to be my full time employee…..

Jackson :what ?

I turned to my boss who was at a lost for words.

Jackson : I… I can’t… I love my work here, besides, I can’t just….

Seven : arGHHHHHHHHH!!!!! aRGHH!!!! ARGHHH!!!

I jumped again as I watched Seven flew into a rage. He went to this large tree trunk that was reserved for another client. He started kicking it with his legs.

His rapid and continuous kicks reinforced the rationale behind his name.

He kicked it so hard that the bark chips off and I could see the sturdy timber being damaged. He just kept stomping on it aggressively with both legs as I sucked in a deep breath and back myself closer to Keng.

Declan : Seven… please stop !!…. oh god…. I swear… one day I would get a heart attack…. sigh….. I apologise….. I apologise……. He has anger management issues…

Seven stopped kicking and shouting as he stormed out of the office 3 seconds before the whole trunk toppled onto the floor.

Keng : I’m sorry Jackson…. I wanted to talk to you about it tonight…. i… I didn’t expect….

Declan : it’s fine… it’s fine…. It’s fine…. Keng….

Declan tapped his own chest and said he will do it.

Declan : Jackson…. I want you to understand that….this is no different from what you are already doing…. We really need a good gardener…..we will pay you…. Reasonably well…. Give you the creative freedom to design….don’t worry… we’re not gangsters…. Or anything… you are free to leave if you don’t like the job….

Jackson : oh….ok..

Declan : don’t mind my colleagues… they are actually very nice people once you get to know them….

We heard some shouting outside and I turned to see Hong jumping in the middle of the nursery.

Hong : ARGHHHHHH… HAHAHAHAHAHA…..

I saw Hong head butt a hanging orchid, shattering the pot and spilling charcoal all over the floor as his men clapped. His head was bleeding a little but he was still laughing.

There was another smash as Seven leapt up and swipe 2 pots with a spinning kick.

Turning back to Declan, he continued to appeal sincerely to me.

Declan : I am certain you would enjoy yourself with us…. And I am proud to say we have zero attrition rates for the past few years….

Jackson : what about the…. Gardeners… who ermm.. didn’t quite make the mark… ?

Declan: oh them… they were redeployed… into other roles more suited to their areas of expertise….

Jackson : I see….

The door to the office open and a Indian man spoke directly to Declan in Hokkien dialect.

Kamal : Declan !!!. EH SAI BO ? WU DAI JI BO ? ( Declan, is everything ok ? is there a situation ? )

He was skinny but tall. He had large eyes like that of a praying mantis, I say that because it looked like they were about to pop out of it’s sockets. He wore construction boots, and he had a measuring tape on his waist.

Kamal : dee ji kor is Jackson ?? ( Who is Jackson ? ) why so long !!

Declan : everything is fine… thank you Kamal…. And please… get Hong and Seven out before they destroy the place….

I watch as Kamal head out, a string of Hokkien expletives left his mouth as his middle fingered and shove his friends out of the nursery as they traded curses n broad daylight.

Declan turned back to me and in a very serious tone, continued to sell his organisation.

Declan : so….what do you think…

I looked at Keng before turning to Declan.

Jackson : I… ermm… do I get to think about it… before I reply…. ?

Declan press his lips together before nodding his head.

Declan : of course… of course….. can I leave the contact of either of my 3 associates earlier… they will follow up with you regarding your decision…. And please….. let them know why if you are not interested in taking up the job…… they need to let our employer know…..Which one do you think you can click better with….….. Hong…. Seven …….or Kamal….

You got to be shitting me.

I don’t even want to go near those crazy fuckers.

Jackson : how about I get back to you directly…. ?

I said with a smile.

Declan smiled too.

Declan : well… then all you have to tell me is whether you will be starting today………. Or tomorrow….

Declan handed me a card with his name and contact number on it.

I accepted it and looked at the plain white card. It’s thick, good quality paper, textured. Declan’s name and number embossed in black with a copper outline.

I would have thought it’s from some design firm.

Well, it’s just a garden.

I’ve done so many. Even if it’s a big plot, it shouldn’t take long. I will double up my speed, finish it and get the fuck out.

Jackson : Ok…… ok…. I’ll start tomorrow……where is the property ?

Declan : alright !… hahah

Declan rubbed his hands in glee as he added and finally got up off the chair.

Declan : It’s a house….. A house in Bukit Timah…

…………………………………

When Declan finally got up, he went over to my boss and they had a short chat. I could not hear what was exchanged but he looked visibly relieved after the conversation.

He kept thanking Declan over and over as he walked him out of the nursery.

Keng : Thank you…. Thank you Declan…. Thank you.. I will never forget your help…. Thank you….

I shook my head at the mess those assholes left in the middle of the nursery as I picked up the broom and dustpan.

Jackson : Boss… you should have called the police….

Keng : Don’t talk nonsense… you don’t know who they are….

Jackson: They’re fucking gangsters…. Look at what they did…. Who’s going to pay for all of these….

I swept the broken pieces up and shook my head at the damaged plants.

Keng came over to help but I told him it’s ok, I can take care of it.

Jackson : this place is your life’s work…. They should all be arrested….

He bent down and tapped my shoulder gently.

Keng : Jackson …. I no longer own this place… since a year or so ago…

Jackson : what ?

I looked at my boss in surprise. What he says don’t make sense.

Keng : I own this place in name, but we fell on hard times a couple of years ago….Declan …. Bought and finance the day to day operations…..

Jackson : what…. But ….

Keng : The amount we make…. Is barely enough to make ends meet….and…. my son….he wanted to go study in Australia…. The… the financial strain is… i… I had to take a loan for his fees and accommodation…. And…

Jackson : I’m sorry… I didn’t know… I just assume all is fine…. Your plants are selling….i mean… things are moving….

Keng : How much can we make selling pots of mints and herbs… ? The competition is intense…. Only festive periods are better…..There’s also the workers’ levy, their dormitory fees…. Maintaining a business is not easy…… I’m also running on credit with our suppliers…. Sigh…. Sometimes I just feel so tired… it’s as if I’m struggling to pay the bills…..

Well, I wanted to say that maybe if his son is not spending a fortune enjoying himself in Melbourne, he would not be in such a state but who am I to comment.

It’s his decision.

I just thought perhaps the son should have been a bit more aware of the family’s financial constraints.

Jackson : Ok la… ok la…. don’t worry…. I’ll go fix their garden…I doubt they can appreciate the plants though….

Keng : hahaha…. I owe you one Jackson…. Don’t worry… I’ll keep your position here for you when you get back….i promise….

Jackson : How big is their garden… ? I will probably take what…. A couple of months ? …. Max… ? …

Keng : I don’t know…. you’ll have to go take a look and find out….

I finished up my work for that day and headed back home.

Looking at Declan’s name card, I realised I don’t know the address of where I was supposed to go the next day.

I dialled Declan and he answered within 3 rings.

Declan : Housekeeping…..

Jackson : errm…. This is Jackson…. I’m the gardener….

Declan : oh hi….what can I do for you Jackson…

Jackson : I need to know the address of where to go …..where is the property…. ?

Declan : Ahhh…. I shall text you in a minute….

Jackson : ok…

Declan : Another thing, I don’t believe we discussed remuneration….and staff benefits….let’s do that tomorrow shall we…. ?

Jackson : ok sure….

I hung up and waited for the address to come in.

Why did he answer with ‘housekeeping’ ?

Is he a housekeeper ?

I bet he’s going to lowball the hell out of my pay with either Seven or Hong standing around him.

Who knows, maybe he might get them to perform some more of their acrobatic stunts, breaking shit with their head as we talk about my pay.

With the odd jobs I’m doing on the side, I’m getting almost 2800 a month easily. On a good month I could get 3500, especially if the owners are happy with my services, including the gardening work of course.

There’s no way I’m going to accept anything lower than 2800 unless my life is in danger.

Maybe I got to factor in an additional 100 for petrol since it’s so far from where I stay.

Ang Mo Kio is not exactly near to Bukit Timah.

My phone vibrated and I looked at the road name.

Binjai hill.

What kind of place is that.

I keyed in the location in google map and was brought to the neighbourhood of bukit timah.

There is a secondary road along Binjai Park.

The property is located right at the top of the hill. It’s really in the middle of nowhere.

I mentally thought of the road I would need to take to work and plotted out the shortest route in my head.

I started surfing around for nearby coffeeshops or foodcourts and was horrified to see that the nearest hawker center is fucking far away. I would need to waste petrol to drive out just for lunch.

I mean come on, I’m just a general worker. I need my tea break, coffee, I need to eat my lunch. Working in such a isolated place, I can’t imagine having to drive all the way out, find a place to park, quickly wolf down my food and drive myself all the way back.

Unlike other landscaping jobs for horny stay at home wives, I doubt I would have the luxury of getting to enjoy a dip in the pool, or maybe an hour or two in the airconditioned interior of the house.

From the looks of things, I doubt anyone at this place would enthusiastically offer me tea or a drink while watching me sweat in the middle of the day.

I can’t make out how big the property is from the map and what is the extent of green space I need to fix. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

I shut my laptop and went to bed.

I don’t frequent the neighbourhood over there and I don’t know if there will be a jam in the morning.

It’s not my style to be late for work, and definitely not so if I’m working for people like Declan and his associates as he calls them.

16th December 2014

7.30am

I left my place in Ang Mo Kio and made the drive towards my new workplace.

Traffic is a little heavy but it’s moving.

There’s a slight drizzle and I could see lightning in the distance.

Not a good sign for 1st day of work.

Declan never said what time I needed to be at work so I assumed 9am as the standard.

I got to Bukit Timah at 8.10am and decided to take a drive around the neighbourhood.

The main roads are busy but once I turn into the residential area, it’s like entering another world. The skies started to clear and I could see the crown of the taller trees swaying gently in the breeze.

Matured trees stood tall and imposing along the side of the narrow road looking out of place with the manicured ones behind the walls of the houses I pass by.

Rows of neatly pruned frangipani with purple flowers changed abruptly to a thick row of bamboo rustling in the morning breeze. I could catch a glimpse of the houses behind the trees and landscaping, it’s beautiful.

From modern houses with flat roof and large glass facades, to the traditional pitch roof with the signature red tiles, every one of the houses there had a character of it’s own.

Some of the gardens looked like it need a bit of work. Who knows, if I do a good job, I could use it as a portfolio to enter this neighbourhood.

I even passed by a large house with it’s own security gazebo.

The Gurkhas on duty locked eyes with me as I drove pass slowly, their fingers never far away from the trigger of their weapon.

Probably some minister staying there or something.

I continued driving as I head deeper into the large private estate.

I could hear the roar of a super car engine as it went by my beat up Kia.

Jackson : woah…..

I could literally feel my small car vibrate as we pass each other.

I slowed down when I got to the small road leading up to the address on the namecard Declan gave me.

I could see the road sign indicating that it’s a dead end once I turn up that road.

I made a left turn but my car barely went 5 metres in when a large black SUV drove out and blocked the entire road.

I stopped and waited, thinking that driver must be on his way out or something.

I waited for him to move but it remained there.

I sounded the horn, feeling a little irritated.

Yes I know you are rich, but that road is still public property man.

No one came out of the car and I looked around, there’s no alternative road up to the top of the hill.

It’s the only way in.

I sighed and got out of my car and walked towards that large vehicle. I was about to knock on the tinted windows when it rolled down.

Staring at me from inside the vehicle was Kamal.

One of Declan’s so call associates.

Kamal : OEI !!!

I decided to increase the distance between Kamal and me as I asked if he could shift his vehicle.

Jackson : I’m heading up to look for Declan….

Kamal : I know !!… I’m suppose to bring you to him ….

Jackson : oh….

Kamal looked like he just woke up. His curly hair is all puffy and unkept.

I could see old scars of what looked like needles marks on his arms as he rest them on what’s left of the rolled down window.

Some of his tattoos were faded, there is an incomplete drawing of a spider on his left forearm. I can’t tell how old or young is Kamal. He’s definitely not a young punk but he don’t strike me as old as well. Probably in the late thirties range.

He had a gold chain around his neck. It’s pretty thick, there’s something hanging at the end of the chain.

Kamal saw me looking at it and he stuff it deeper into his t-shirt.

Kamal : park your car there….. you cannot drive in….

He wound up his window and I looked over to the direction he was pointing.

Jackson : I need my tools…. Some of my gardening stuff are in my trunk….

Kamal : You will get them later… not now….

The gate to the first property on my left opened up automatically.

I drove in and parked on the large porch that could comfortably fit at least 5 vehicles. When I got out of the car, I saw a few men stepping out from the house.

They definitely don’t fit the demographic of the people I was expecting to stay in a property like this in such a neighbourhood.

The 4 men looked at me with the same kind of stares that is guaranteed to start a fight.

One of them was about to ask who the fuck I was when Kamal whistled across the open space and gave them a wave. The 4 men stepped back into the air conditioned interior of the house without a word.

I looked away and over to Kamal who is now pointing aggressively at one other man near his car who looked like he did something wrong.

His head was bowed and he nodded quietly as Kamal let loose a string of expletives. I could make out the last sentence as I went closer.

Kamal : wake the fuck up…. Or you can fuck off…..

The man apologised several times and scurried away into the house while Kamal gestured for me to follow him.

I walked over to the car blocking the driveway expecting to get in but Kamal shouted at me.

Kamal : OEI !!!! over here !! not that car !!

I walked over to Kamal who was standing at the entrance to the 2nd property up the hill. I’m beginning to wonder if shouting and speaking loudly is part of the job requirement.

Looking inside I saw 5 golf buggy parked neatly side by side.

Kamal got into one and gestured me to get in.

I turned and look all around me.

The houses are all different, built in different styles by different architects. They have their own numberings, letter boxes and even utilities meter.

Something doesn’t fit.

I got into the buggy beside Kamal and he started to drive, leaving the SUV blocking off the entire road leading up the Binjai Hill road. It’s as if he owned the whole fucking road.

As we drove along the tree lined road, I quietly observed every property we pass by on our way up.

Instead of seeing helpers washing cars, rich owners walking their dogs and talking to their neighbours, I saw instead a gathering of men.

A lot of men, scattered throughout the sprawling grounds.

In 1 particular property, I saw at least 8 men standing around smoking in the porch.

Suddenly I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on it’s end when it became clear to me that whoever Declan worked for, she don’t just own the property at the top of the hill.

She owns the entire stretch of property from the bottom of the road, right up to the top of the hill.

All the men probably works for her.

Kamal stopped the buggy at a large black wrought iron gate that is at least 3m tall. Gold painted leaves and iron sculpted gargoyles adored the imposing gate. At the side of the gate , there’s a smaller entrance.

Hidden from view is a guardhouse that is almost the size of a badminton court.

Inside the guardhouse, a dozen screens flicker and change every few seconds and the men inside the guardhouse looked more serious and menacing that the ones at the bottom of the hill.

These are no grunts.

There’s even one of them piloting a drone that gives an overview of the whole neighbourhood.

All of them stood up and greeted Kamal, clearly he is someone to be respected.

Kamal : Empty your pockets….

Jackson : what… ?

Kamal said nothing and waited for me to remove my car keys, wallet and mobile phone.

I was surprised when I saw another guy checked me out with a metal detector.

What the fuck is this man ?

I’m here as a gardener, and I need to go through this ?

Kamal : your stuff will stay here…. You can collect them when you leave…

He grabbed my stuff, threw them into a locker, turned the lock and handed me the key before asking me to follow him.

As I left the guardhouse and entered the ground of the property I was suppose to work on, I was simply blown away by the sheer size of it.

I never knew a place like this existed on the island. It’s huge.

I could see a large house at the top of the slope but it was obvious that’s not where we are heading.

We got back into the buggy and Kamal drove me along a stone path around the circumference of the property grounds.

I counted at least 4 men that I could see stationed on the exterior of the property.

Like the guards at Istana, each of their post offered an unblock vantage view of the ground in front of them. They are no less equipped as well. A large beach umbrella provided shade while a portable fan stood on a customised shelf.

The shelf had bottles of water and at the bottom of it is a 50 litre fridge, similar to the ones in hotel rooms.

The men waved at Kamal who gave them a cursory nod as he drove with one hand.

The house itself is nothing to shout about. A seemingly normal 2 storey house with an attic. It’s definitely big. I could see some recent additions to the house as I turned the corner towards the back.

A stark contrast from the boring white walls and sloping roof, the back had a new wing. Sleek steel columns, double volume glass panels with thin black frames clad the exterior of the new structure.

There is small balcony with an assortment of hanging plants. I could see birds flirting in and out of that balcony, trying to get to the bird feeder hanging off a small fountain the size of a bowling ball.

I saw a squirrel taking a drink from the fountain before quickly scurrying up a nearby tree.

Above the new wing lies a large patio, stretching the entire length of the new addition.

It overlooks the back of house which essentially is a large piece green, stretching almost a football field in length before giving way to a thick screen of untouched forest.

Beyond the old trees, I could see a glimpse of the other properties beyond on another road.

Something tells me the owner might have bought those as well.

Kamal : here….. inside…. They are waiting….

I looked at the small structure in front of me.

It’s rectangle in shape with a flat roof that is overgrown with wild shrubs.

It’s small, maybe the size of 4 carpark lots arranged 2 by 2. It’s probably a storeroom or sort.

I could hear the hum of the compressor and noticed that the air con is new.

Surrounding the small structure, are several sad looking trees about 2m tall.

2 are dead for sure, I could tell it’s rotting.

There are also several large tree trunk in various state of decomposition on the ground. I could see fungi growing all over the side facing the sun.

It appears as if someone had wanted to use the trunks as outdoor seating or something. Those are going to be a bitch to get rid of.

Almost 2.5m in length and about 50cm thick, you’ll need a large excavator to drag it off the ground.

Kamal opened the door and I could immediately hear the din inside the small space.

Declan was trying to reason with Hong who was gesturing and grumbling while pointing at Seven.

Seven was chewing a sugar cane and pacing up and down the narrow width of the space.

When Kamal stepped in and announced my arrival, everyone quiet down.

Seven and Hong made way for me at the small table that will comfortably sit 4.

Declan : Morning !! Jackson… so glad you could join us…. Please… sit….

I felt my heart skip a beat when I hear the door close behind me.

Turning around, I saw Kamal leaning against the door.

Seven leapt onto a wooden bedframe with a mattress and sat with one leg up, balancing his elbow on his knee as he continued chewing the sugarcane.

Hong had a sling bag slightly bigger than a laptop bag slung across his huge body and he went to stand behind Declan.

Ok, calm down. I prepared for this.

I mentally rehearsed this.

This is the part we are going to talk about remuneration.

They are going to lowball the hell out of me and I know the perfect counter.

It’s not about the absolute dollar amount you pay, it’s about the value you get.

That’s not bullshit. There is value in my skills.

Declan :alright Jackson…. Before we start … can we look at your hands….

Jackson : what…. ?

Hong : SHOW US YOUR HAND !!!

I leaned back on the wooden chair and flipped my palms upwards.

Jackson : You trying to see if our fortunes match ?? you need my birth hour and dates as well ???

Seven : hahaha.. ahahhaha.. hahahah….

That was the first time I heard Seven laugh. His laugh came off a bit weird, sounded mechanical at times.

Declan : no.. no.. nothing of the sort… just want to be sure….

Declan looked at my hands with delight before Hong asked me to strip.

Jackson : what the fuck…. I don’t do guys….

Hong : fuck you la…. I also don’t do guys….

Declan : Jackson please…. I assure you… there is very good reason for this….

Jackson : and what is it…. ?

Declan, sensing my resistance, changed tack immediately.

Declan : how about we talk about your pay first……

Jackson : alright… that’s important….

Declan clasped his hands together and I quickly made the first move.

There is always the first mover advantage. I’m going to go high, they will counter offer lower, and I would counter again, this process repeats until we come to a sum we are all comfortable with.

Jackson : I’m looking at 3.5k …..i’m already doing around this amount monthly at my old place especially with the landscaping jobs on the side…..plus… now that I need to work here full time… I will be missing out on opportunities…. The distance I need to travel to work is also significantly longer and further…. As such… I believe a reasonable compensation relative to my fuel cost is justified.

I got it all out in one breath and waited for Declan to reply me.

He will ask for something lower definitely, then we will negotiate. If he’s good, he will go 2.8, I will go 3.4, he goes 2.9, and I’ll suggest we shake hands on 3.2. He’ll definitely want to win though, so I’ll accept his offer of 3.1. I could already see it panning out in my head.

I hardly breathe as Declan nodded a couple of times while I tried to appear calm.

Jackson : errm…. So…. Ok ? you serious ?? … 3.5 k ?

I almost wanted to jump for joy when i saw him nod.

3.5k a month to do gardening work, something I enjoy, where to find this kind of a deal ?

Declan leaned back all of a sudden and shook his head.

Fuck.

I knew it.

Declan : I’ll offer 5k…. if you take off your clothes for a quick inspection….. no touching….

Jackson : what ?

I looked at the men in the room, they didn’t look like they are joking.

What the fuck have I got myself into ? I must have walked into some gay den or some shit. Maybe they want pictures of my cock to blackmail me.

Maybe all they wanted was to rape me all along.

My eyes drifted to the sugar cane Seven was chewing and I thought about how badly the fibres would hurt.

Hong : OEI !!!

Jackson : what…ok…ok….

5k is a lot of money. With that I can probably persuade my grandfather back to get a checkup or something. If I do this for 6 months, 30k, I limit my expenses, I can bring him to a specialist at a private hospital.

Jackson : fine…. Whatever….

It’s not as if I have never been naked around men before.

I removed all my clothing, striping to my underwear.

Hong and Kamal checked me from head to toe.

They even asked me to pry open the space in between my toes.

It finally dawned on me what they are looking for.

Needles holes. They wanted to know if I’ve taken drugs before.

When Declan asked for me to remove my underwear, I did so without complain and after a quick inspection, he gestured for me to get dress.

Declan : I’m very sorry for having to do that but we just want to be sure….

Jackson : that I don’t take drugs… ?

Declan smiled.

He told me he already did a check with Keng about the kind of person I am. The reason why they are interested in me is because of their boss.

Jackson : Your boss ?

Declan : well… you see… after the first few gardeners….ermm…. inability to perform….she set some pretty strict rules on the new one we are to get….

Aside from not having a history of drugs, she wanted someone with no criminal records, someone who doesn’t smoke, someone educated, works independently and with no history of violence or gang affiliation.

He has to be local, good with landscaping and works alone. By working alone, he meant everything from buying, delivering right down to digging the hole for the plants to go into and working with fertilisers.

At no point are these works to be outsourced or given to another contractor.

Declan : so you can imagine how hard it is to find someone like that…… i’ve gone to so many landscape nursery looking for someone suitable …….so I hope you would forgive me if we seemed too…. Ermm…. Overly eager….

Jackson : errmm… I see….

Declan : I know you don’t smoke…. Keng says you are never one to touch drugs…. And so…. Here we are…. You are a god sent…. Hhahaha.. hahaha…

Hong : hahah.. hahaha… Boss lost her bet… ahha…

Declan shot Hong a look and he shut up immediately.

Something about a bet.

Their boss must be thinking it’s near impossible to find someone with the kind of requirements she gave.

I nodded while looking around the room uncomfortably.

Declan : ok…. Back to the money…..the offer is 5k a month….working hours is as and when you like…. But you need to get shit done …. Or a lot of people are going to be upset…. Especially Seven over there….anger management issues remember ??

Jackson : as and when I like… ? what… ?

Declan : You want to take weekends off ? …. Weekdays off…. Work 8 hours…. Work 10 hours… your choice…. As long as we get a garden that we can all be proud off….. if it rains, I can’t expect you to come also what…. For what ? pray for the rain to stop…. ? hahaha

Jackson : errr… ok… can we put it as ….ermm… 9 am to 6pm in the contract…. You know…. better to have it in black and white….

Hong : contract ??? what contract ?? our word…. Is our contract ???!!! you think we bluff you one ah !!!

Declan shot Hong a look and asked him to shut up.

Declan : contract… of course…. Of course…. Having things in black and white is good for everyone. …

Declan reached into his pocket trying to search for a pen and paper.

Kamal pulled out a old crumpled piece of paper which was the advertisement for a hotpot restaurant and pushed it to Declan together with a pen.

You got to be shitting me.

Declan asked what other employment terms I would like to have.

He started writing on the crumpled piece of paper.

Oh god, I’m going to get screwed so bad at this place seeing how things are going. A contract on the back of a piece of advertisement.

Jackson : What about medical …. ? ermm… sick leave …. And annual leave…. Can I claim for if I fall sick… ?

Declan : oh…. Sick ? no problem…. Dr Kamal can help you…

I turned around and my jaws almost dropped. This is definitely a joke.

Jackson : Dr….Kamal … ?

Declan : yes.. he’s our resident doctor…. Graduated from NUS…. Went on to UK to do his masters… he’s a qualified surgeon by the way…….but unfortunately…… got struck off the registrar….

I turned and looked at Kamal again.

He was squatting down, knees spread, his knee length denim stretched tight at the crotch area as he played with his mobile phone with his right hand, elbow resting on his knee.

Declan : he is a good doctor…. Believe me… he stitched me up before…. Look….

He went on to show me a scar at least 6 inches long on his forearm.

Jackson : hooohhhh…kay…..

Declan : ermmm.. annual leave……errr… what is the standard number of days now ?? ….

Jackson : errr…. I don’t know… would be nice if I get 14….

Declan : 14… ? take 21…. 21 just nice…

Hong : 28 la…. got number 8…. HUAT HUAT ( to prosper )

Declan : good idea…. 28….

28 days leave ? Who in the work gets 28 days leave in this country. I’m beginning to think this whole thing is a joke.

He went on to scribble it on the paper without waiting for my reply.

Jackson : what about CPF ? you will be contributing to my CPF account right… ? it’s the law….

Declan paused before turning to Hong.

Hong shrugged his shoulders.

Declan : tell you what… we’ll count the contribution portion…. And give you in cash.. then you put in on your own… how’s that… ?

Jackson : … err.. ok… I don’t mind…. Then what about the budget for doing up the garden…. Who do I pass the invoice to….? As in who approves the things and plants I need to get….

Declan : you of course…. You are the one that knows about plants….

Jackson :me … ? just me… ?

Declan : why not….

Jackson : errr… ok….

Declan : if you need money… get from Hong….he’ll hook you up….

Hong : I’ll give you your 1st month pay first… plus errmmm.. the CPF is what ar…how much….

Hong unzipped his bag and took out a stack of thousand dollar bills.

That lousy sling bag is packed full of money.

He counted 6 pieces before pushing them across the table.

Hong : enough ? is this enough ???

I could not believe what I was seeing.

He started counting another 10 pieces.

Hong : 10k enough to buy plants and stuff you need to start working or not ??? or you need more… ?

He pushed the mess of notes all over to me and I stared at the money while holding onto the side of my chair.

This is worrying.

Who the fuck walks around with stacks of thousand dollar bills in a faded sling bag across his chest ?

Declan : oh… we deal in cash only by the way…. I hope that is not a problem… I assure you… these are real notes…. Hahaha… sorry….. we’re a bit short on 100 dollar bills these days… and the 500s are pretty rare as it is….. I have 10 thousand dollar bills though but they are harder to break into small notes….

Jackson : what about 50s ?

Hong : you go bank ask them break for you !!!

Declan : Hong… please… I’m really going to go deaf one day…. Stop shouting by my ear….

Turning to me with a smile, he quickly added ;

Declan : And Jackson…..i need to remind you that…. Ermmm… how do I put this….. we are…errr… we trust you…. With money…. As you can see…. But…. Ermm……

Hong : He trying to say….. if you ever try to fuck with us…. Especially with money…. You is die….. YOU IS DIE….. understand …. I confirm…. You IS DIE…

Jackson : you mean ‘ you will die ? “ … got it…

Hong : No… I mean ‘ you IS die ‘

I nodded and told Hong not to go on.

He turned to Seven and asked him which part of ‘ you is die ‘ do I not get.

Jackson : I understand….. I understand… I got it…. I got it…. Thank you… ‘ I is die’….. confirm…. ‘ I is die ‘

It’s my fault, I should not have bothered to pick on his language skills.

Declan went on to say that the shed we are in is the store and rest area for me.

Declan : You can do it up if you like, you can put a bed, stay over…. It’s up to you…there’s a bathroom on the side over there…. A little cramp but it will do…. This…..

He gestured to the small cozy shed and added,

Declan : This is your lair…. Abode… studio …. if you prefer a nicer term… hahah….

I nodded.

Jackson : ok…. Thank you…

Someone knocked on the door and handed Kamal an electronic key card.

Kamal passed that card to me.

Kamal : …. this unlocks this door, the gate, the recreation area …. , basically anywhere that you are allowed to go…. If the door doesn’t open for you…. That place is not for you…. Understand… ?

I nodded as I palmed the card and kept it in my pocket.

Declan : Jackson…. I need to explain to you….some rules….so please listen carefully….. the house you see over there….…. We call that the castle….

Declan did not use his hand, instead he nodded over to the direction where I saw that large majestic house looming over the property.

Jackson : It sure looks like one to me…

Declan : hahaha.. yes…and in that castle….

Jackson : lives the queen…. Ok… I got it…

Declan nodded, happy that I understand where he’s coming from.

Declan : Do not go in there…..do not attempt to go near there….your key card allows you through the gates, and guard house and to your shed here …..most of the other places are out of bounds…. l

Jackson : yes… I’m the farmer….. I stay away from the royalties….no problem….

Seven chuckled again, no doubt amused by my lame joke.

Declan : good…. Good…. Food…. Is catered…

Jackson : what !….

Declan pointed to the building beyond the wall of trees.

He told me that food is available 24 hours a day at the house at the end, I just need to follow the small path leading into the trees and I would see the entrance. A small gate leading onto another property from the back.

A team of 3 cooks rotates round the clock to keep everyone fed and happy.

Declan : You can always head out to eat if you like…. Your car… stays outside….you want to go anywhere beyond the road leading up to this place…. You use the buggy….

Jackson : what about my tools…. All the things I need to buy and transport to this place….

Declan : I’m sorry…. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary…. Don’t worry…. The main gate to this place can be opened….the guards will be notified that we have a new gardener. …… they’ll get use to you in a week or so….

Jackson : ok… where can I go and dispose of stuff… where is the bin centre…. ?

I was told all trash should be brought to the cookhouse. There’s a disposal area with several bins.

Declan : You can’t miss it….

Jackson : what about trash that are too large to move or put into the bin… ?

Declan : for example…. ?

I gestured outside the shed and talked about the few rotting tree trunks at are lying by the side.

Declan : well.. you’re the gardener…. Think of something…..

Jackson : Can I call in a….

Declan :No… !… no calling anyone in… no cranes… no trucks…. Just you….remember ??

I sighed and I saw Seven opening up the top of the wooden bed frame.

I could see some tools inside, I didn’t know the bed double up as a storage box.

Seven chuckled and put 2 axes on the table as he giggled in his weird way.

Hong laughed.

Hong : Seven… ahaha.. you very fucker you know.. hahaha… hahha…

I touched the 2 axes and nodded my head.

Fuck yeah.

5k a month brother, 28 days leave. I’ll chop down a forest if you need me to.

I’ll do it.

Jackson : ok…. I’ll deal with it…. So who do I go to for the proposed design of the garden…. Who signs off….and say ok… I like this design….proceed ….

Declan smiled and said nothing but I could probably guess what he would say if he did reply.

I’m the gardener.

I’ll make the decision.

Jackson : ok…. I understand… I understand….

Declan : good…. Look forward to working with you Jackson…. Any questions… give anyone here a call….

The group of them left me alone in the room and I sat back down on the chair and took a deep breath.

The room is clean, hardly any furnishing. I did a quick check, no cameras. There’s a working fridge, this could be cozy if I put a bit of work into it.

I mentally made a list of things I needed to get before walking all the way back down the hill to my car.

I drove back to the nursery to look for Keng.

I gave him a list of things I needed. Compost, fertilisers, sand, granite chips and so on.

Jackson : send them to this place….

I gave Keng the address where I needed to park my car and told him to unload it over there. I’ll have to slowly transfer it on my own.

I stocked up on some stationaries, drawing paper and several large 1.5 litres of water into my car.

Since there’s a bathroom for my use, I went home to pack some clothes and toiletries as well. I had a quick lunch at the food centre near my place before making my way back to my work place.

By the time I got back to Bukit Timah, it was already past 1.30pm

I chose the biggest buggy and loaded up my stuff to send them from the bottom of the hill to my farmhouse.

I kept an eye out for Declan and his associates, but they were nowhere to be seen.

I was literally left on my own to get things done.

A couple of guards stopped me since I was a new face around but they let me go upon scanning my access card.

It took me 2 trips with the buggy but I got my stuff into the small cozy shed.

I hung a signage of the word ‘farmhouse’ on the back of the door. A souvenir I brought from home. I got it when I was travelling with my grandpa.

Jackson : there…. Something homely….

I did some cleaning up, divided the shed into zones.

Tools and equipment that I don’t need immediately goes under the bed.

I began to have more ideas the more I look at my so call office.

I can almost picture myself here on a rainy evening, enjoying s steamboat meal while looking out to the garden I built. This could be fun.

I laughed to myself as I kept the bottled waters in the fridge, leaving one on the table.

Picking up the both axes Seven handed to me, I balanced them on my hands.

It has a good firm grip, the cutting edges are a little rusty but still usable. Just needs a good grind.

I checked to make sure no one is looking before doing a funny rendition of a dance I saw in a Stephen Chow movie.

Jackson : dah… dah… dah. …. Da dah dah…dah…AXE GANG!

I thrust my hand into the air and burst out laughing.

It’s ridiculous but nevertheless a good stress buster.

I made a mental note not to do that outside in case someone sees me

I’ll start by cleaning up the area outside the shed for a start.

The 2 rotting trees has to go.

The sun was setting by the time I was done with the 2 small trees. Their roots went pretty deep.

I was perspiring badly and I noticed there are no lights around the farmhouse.

The only light source is a hanging lamp above my door and the lights from inside.

I continued working, determined to get a bit more done before the sun sets.

I started to chop the rotting wood into smaller chunks for easier loading.

It got pretty dark by 7pm but this being Singapore with light pollution everywhere, the ambient light from the surrounding properties and street lamps is enough for me.

It was a beautiful moment as I looked at the setting sun lit the sky up in a dreamy orange glow.

Cirrus clouds peppered the horizon as I split the last bit of the rotted tree before loading it into the back of the buggy.

I looked around, it’s dark enough and I don’t think anyone will mind me cooling off a little.

I removed my top which was drenched in sweat by then and wiped my face down.

Walking over to one of the rotting trunk infested with fungi, I threw the axe down , lodging the blade 2 inches deep into the soft fibres.

I picked up the bottle of water I brought outside and exhaled.

The cool evening breeze felt amazing on my naked torso. It’s peaceful and quiet out here.

I unscrewed the cap and started to hydrate myself.

In between gulps of water, my eyes noticed something a distance away.

The castle.

The lights to the patio came on and someone walked out.

A female.

I could not make out much of this person, all I could see was the dark silhouette of graceful woman. I can’t tell her age but with that poise, she must be beautiful regardless of how old she is.

She walked alone towards the edge of the patio.

Her arms are folded and she looked like she was deep in thought as she takes slow deliberate steps towards the railing. The woman looked like she just came back from work.

She’s in formal clothes. Long sleeve blouse and a tight-fitting pencil skirt.

When she got the edge of the patio, she opened her arms and rest both palms on the metal railing as she looked far ahead into the horizon. The wind flirted with the soft fabric of her blouse and I could see the loose flaps under the entire length of her stretch arm swimming like the tail of a morel eel in the corals.

I looked at her from where I stood and for a brief moment, I was transfixed by that picturesque view. Her hair is tied up but the setting sun caught several loose fringes, turning it a shade of bronze.

It felt like a painting, a piece of artwork I would love to have on my wall.

I didn’t know how long I was staring at her before she noticed me.

A sudden jolt of her head in my direction was enough to snap me out of my stupor.

She saw me, or rather, she knows someone is looking at her.

I bent down to pick up the axe and I kept my line of sight towards the lady as I slowly backed away into the shadows of the trees.

I went to the shower and was surprised that it came with hot water.

As the water rises off the grim and dirt from a day’s work, I suddenly felt butterflies in my stomach and goosebumps on the back of my back. It’s as if I was starstruck after seeing some hot celebrity in real life.

I rinsed off the soap and laughed when I realised the goosebumps was not because I saw a Hollywood celebrity or some famous personality.

I was star struck because I think i just saw the Queen.

…………………………………………………………………………….

It took me about a week and a half to clear up a 10m radius of the area around the farmhouse. There were so much trash hidden below the ground, from old sandbags to construction debris. I even dug up the ends of a spade and an old car tyre.

Clearing the ground also revealed some stone path that got swallowed up by the turfing over the years. The overgrown grass hid a lot of other structures from stone benches to pave flooring. There’s even a large concrete plinth that will comfortably fit a small table with a couple of chairs.

Some of the wild grass and weeds are as tall as me. You could probably use it as training grounds for the military if left untouched.

Someone did good work on the original landscape many years ago. With no one to take care of the ground, the wild grass just swallowed everything up.

Many of the stone slabs are still in good conditions, I followed the direction which the slabs were laid and like digging up hidden treasure, I uncovered the remains of an intricate well-designed garden constructed years ago.

Some parts just need a good wash.

I did a rough sketch of the site and soon I have a pretty good idea what I want to do. I placed the orders for materials and the plants I wanted with Keng and slowly transported everything over to the farmhouse.

I planted the bamboos first, an entire load of 40 bamboo plants about a metre tall each I ordered. I encircled the concrete plinth which is about 3 metre in diameter and I lined up the 5 metres pathway leading away from the farmhouse towards the concrete island with the same plant.

With the bamboo as the centre piece, I added some small shrubs and flowering herbs to give the walkway a bit of layer and depth.

A small bamboo forest is thus born.

Isolated planters dotted along the side of the existing stone path are quickly filled with a variety of shrubs and flowering plants.

By the end of the 3rd week, you can slowly see everything coming together.

Change is coming.

I thought Declan was joking when he said I could come and go as I like when I work, but it turned out to be true. My initial worries about one of those crazy clowns coming to harass me was uncalled for.

No one really gave a hoot about me after a week or so. No one cared what time I came to work, no one asked when I leave work too. During my break times, I would wander the grounds of the large property, I would wave to the guards at the perimeter of the castle.

They would nod in acknowledgement out of courtesy, but we never exchanged words. Not when they are working. I get the occasional glance when men pass me by on the way to the cookhouse, but no one ever came to talk to me.

The large ground is made up of so many plots of different property. There isn’t an exact boundary, every property comes with its own gates and walls. I can’t tell where the kingdom of the queen begins and where it ends. What I can gather so far is if I see a property occupied with all mean looking men, chances are it belongs to the group.

The smiles and small chats at the cookhouse are more casual but other than the simple greeting, everyone pretty much kept to their own circle.

I sit alone usually in the peculiar cookhouse.

I don’t exactly belong into any of the groups, not that I did not try.

When I asked if I could share tables, they would give me a weird look and say that the seats are taken.

Some would just point to any of the empty tables scattered throughout the ground floor.

The men working in that place varied in their age. From youthful looking 18 year olds to men in their mid fifties. Tattoos are a common sight, several spotted visible scars on their limbs.

From their conversations, I could tell most of them have a checkered past.

The food hall sat along the street like any other of the private properties on the road. From the outside, you can’t tell the special function it serves.

A large 2.5 storey private bungalow converted into a food hall of sort sure gives a new perspective to the usage of the property.

Instead of your typical living room with a sofa and TV, the whole of the ground floor is filled with tables and chairs of different sizes and design. It’s as if everything has been scavenged from different places.

They look different but everything is well maintained.

The ground floor alone can comfortably fit 60-70 diners at any one time.

There are tables set along the sides of the railings on the 2nd floor as well overlooking the dining area below.

They are seldom occupied though.

There are always empty seats on the ground floor, why would you want to carry your food upstairs ?

A team of 3 cooks managing a team of 9 others staff the kitchen on a 24 hour rotation.

There’s one who has shades on permanently even though we are indoors, everyone calls him Bran. He sometimes will just stare into space and just zone out. I don’t think he’s blind, he obviously can see.

Another never spoke a single word, he just gestured with his hands. I’ve heard people call him Meng. For some reason, he always walks around with a knife and it seems he is always cutting something.

Fruits, vegetables, potatoes, there seemed to be a never-ending list of stuff he is cutting and preparing despite the helpers doing most of the stuff.

The last one seemed to be hard of hearing, I’ve seen a few men shouting at him to tell him what they needed. Deuce. Deuce is also the most jovial of all, always smiling and waving to everyone.

The 3 cooks felt like the representation of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Peculiar men they may be, but they left everyone in no doubt who is in charge of the kitchen and the cook house.

They run a tight ship.

You take more food than you can finish, you can be sure to get a scolding.

You don’t return your dishes after you are done, a shouting match will ensue.

You mess up the table with your food and don’t clean up after, things will get ugly.

From what I can see, it’s usually the newcomers that get into trouble with the cooks. The old birds know exactly what not to do.

During lunch, I would usually see Hong bringing a few new guys into the cookhouse. He would explain loudly that they will go there for their meals, it’s as if he’s giving new recruits a tour of the cookhouse.

I’m good with faces. I estimate about half of them never stayed after their first meal. I can’t exactly say that place is a halfway house for ex-convicts or men who need help but it seems as if employment opportunities are presented to the newcomers, it’s up to them if they want to accept it.

Most of them did not take it up. I wonder if the terms of employments are not good, or it is the men themselves who are not up to par.

I know because I eat all 3 meals there from the 2nd day onwards. Some of those new faces never appeared again.

During mealtimes, some men would come with take away containers and the cooks would promptly fill them up.

Sometimes I would see a couple of men coming in with food bags similar to the kind we see in the army. They would take away food for about a dozen men before disappearing. It appears as if some of these men have to take their meals at their assigned posts or job.

Every new observation I make about my employer raises more questions. It’s like being given just the background piece of a children’s puzzle. A large rectangle with colourful borders and no pieces to fit within.

The cook house is great, I like the food, it’s free.

What’s not to like about it ?

The spread is good too.

Not exactly like a hotel buffet but still plenty of choices. For lunch and dinner, there’s 4 dishes and a soup. Out of the 4 dishes, there will be 2 types of vegetables and 2 meat dishes. Aside from the main dishes, there will be a variety of cold side dishes from kimchi to preserved cucumbers & turnips.

There is also a large tin of crispy chicken floss available too.

You get your choice of either white rice or multi grain.

Breakfast is a variety of bread and rolls with your choice of spreads. There’s usually a pot of porridge and a large fridge facing the kitchen is always stocked with cut fruits throughout the day.

There are 2 coffee machine, a beverage dispenser that churns out a variety of hot drinks from Milo to Macha Latte. There is even a soft drink dispenser.

From 9.00pm to 3.30am, the supper kiosk will be up. It could be Ikea style hotdogs bun, hot soy milk with fried dough sticks, sandwiches, fried beehoon or once a week, live burger stations.

Never in my dreams did I expect to be able to get a greasy Ramly burger at 10pm in the middle of a private estate in Singapore.

I could not help smiling as I bit down on my burger while sipping a hot cup of coffee as I stretched my aching legs.

This might well be in the list for one of the top 10 companies to work in if not for the shady dealings I suspect they are involved in.

Without even realising, I started to come to work earlier, and I would leave later. When I’m home, I would look forward to come to work.

I don’t clock a 9 to 6 schedule. There isn’t one for me to follow anyway.

That place felt magical to me almost surreal.

I don’t know why, I just can’t explain it.

Everything just seemed so strange, it’s like stepping into a different world.

I know it’s a matter of time before I start staying over in my little farmhouse which is why I started to bring more and more of my stuff over. I even stocked the shelves with food and snacks. I filled the fridge with some simple groceries and I even brought along my steamboat hotpot.

It makes absolute sense.

I go back to an empty house anyway, why not spend it at my work place which I have grown to like so much.

On a particularly windy morning, I barely stepped into the farmhouse when it started to pour. It rained heavily and I could barely see beyond a couple of metres of the window.

Well, the good thing about being a gardener, when it rains, I can’t work.

I set up the hot pot, threw in the instant broth and started a mini steamboat session while listening to music and enjoying the rain outside.

I dunked the thinly sliced beef into a sweet tangy sauce as smiled to myself.

The song might be right.

Heaven might just be a place on earth after all.

As the 1st month draws to a close, I started doing my sums and getting all the documents in order for Declan.

Every invoice was filled properly. I accounted for every cent that I spent on gardening supplies and equipment. With my basic bookkeeping skills, I neatly entered the figures and tallied up the balance.

I decided to get new tools for the garden and keep my own in the car. No point damaging my tools of the trade for this since they can well afford it.

I barely saw Declan and his associates other than Hong. Hong would pop by the cookhouse during lunch for a bit and that’s it.

I once saw Seven walking out from the castle before disappearing around the corner. He looked angry and I could hear him grunting and making weird noises even though he is out of sight.

Kamal walked by my farmhouse a couple of times but he’s always on his phone speaking expletives in different languages. I would give him a wave and he just return a nod.

Everyone seemed to be busy with something.

No one has time for the gardener. You can’t miss the obvious transformation the plain piece of land is going through; I get the occasional pop by of a couple of guys trying to see what else I was up to.

I eventually realised they are looking for a shady corner to smoke.

The queen doesn’t allow smoking near her castle.

I could not stand the cigarette butts they leave behind so I decided to do something about it.

I can’t stop them from smoking, but I can control where they go.

As long as it’s comfortable, has a seat and plenty of shade, they will go there. I ordered a patio umbrella that comes with a solid base you need to fill with water. I set it well away from the farmhouse within a cluster of 3 matured trees.

I put in a bin for the cigarette butts and within a day or 2, I could see a constant stream of smoke rising from the oasis. I’ll just keep adding more plants to that spot, linking it back to the main garden.

There is another reason why I wanted to work late everyday other than the fact that I love my job.

I would look towards the patio of the castle in the evening, hoping to catch a glimpse of the queen, but I never saw her again.

I would walk around the estate, poking my head about, trying to see if I can see the queen going about her business, with such a large place to manage, surely she must make sure everything is in order.

However, the queen proved to be as elusive as the scarlet pimpernel.

I spotted Declan several times near the entrance to the castle. He would go about his day in his usual prim and proper manner. Always well dressed in shirt, pants and leather shoes, Declan stood out from the rest.

Like a professional butler, he takes care of everything on behalf of the queen.

I work 5 days a week as agreed, but I clock almost 10-12 hours each day, sometimes I would leave well after 11pm. The amount of effort I put in is worth every cent of the 5k pay they offered me.

On the last weekend, I decided to pop by on a Saturday afternoon.

I had no reason to head back but I had nothing to do. I had my lunch and I figure I drop by to check on some of the shrubs I just transplanted onto the ground.

Satisfied that everything is in order, I did some cleaning up for the farmhouse before walking towards the cookhouse.

It was then I noticed something interesting happening.

There seemed to be an increase in the amount of activity on the property.