Indeed, the walkways are jam-packed with people, young and old alike, teenagers and families, chattering busily. Not yet the 6.9 million population target projection, but it already feels like bursting point. Loud music blares out from several stores. Manufactured, garish colours shout from every sign and billboard. The white fluorescent lights simulating daylight are far too bright. The sense of claustrophobia squeezes Pansy’s breath. How she wishes she was back at West Wittering, the neighbouring village to Bracklesham Bay, in England, where she could stroll in peace amongst the vast sand dunes, hear the waves crashing onto the beach, and the wind, whispering soft across the Marram grass, skimming the fine sand, lifting it in spirals and creating patterns on the dunes and the shore.
As she walks in search of Flintstones, Pansy sees a heavily pregnant young lady and is taken aback by what she is wearing, a cropped top with a push-up bra, and low slung leggings which exposes her melon-hard pregnant belly. Hock Chye and Kim Guek would not have approved. They would have said, “Tak seronoh sekali!” They would definitely have been apoplectic.
“Call grandma,” Emily says to her daughters.
Anthony and his family are outside the restaurant, still in the queue to get in. There are so many eating places on the premises and yet there are queues for all of them. This is a country with a voracious appetite. Pansy is pleased that her daughter-in-law still harks back to tradition. The English word call is a direct translation from Teochew and Hokkien which means ‘to greet’. For a woman with three grown-up daughters, Emily is in exceedingly good shape and is fashionably dressed, carrying a Prada handbag.
“Grandma,” the girls call out dutifully, though they’re already in their twenties.
Pansy has adopted the English manner of greeting everyone with a kiss on the cheek. Anthony is used to it, but not the others. They squirm awkwardly out of her grasp.
Dino the dinosaur-costumed man shows them to their table. The wait staff of the restaurant is wearing faux skins, similar looking to those worn by Hanna-Barbera’s comic characters, the Stone Age man and his wife, Fred and Wilma Flintstone, their neighbours, Barney and Betty Rubble and their children. Waiters bustle about, carrying stone plates filled with cages of ribs and giant hamburgers. The restaurant is furnished like a scene from out of the animated American TV Series and is probably geared towards being nominated for the World’s Weirdest Restaurant TV series.
Goldie stands out from her sisters as her complexion is deep brown, whilst the younger girls’ complexions take after their mother’s. There is a misdirected value for a fair complexion in this country, so Goldie is disadvantaged in comparison. Pansy can understand why Goldie hates her name. She is quiet and seems to shrink into herself, whilst the other two chatter loudly. Her hair is cropped short, gelled into spikes, and she wears a row of studs in each ear lobe. Her outfit is mannish, a shirt tucked into a pair of workman jeans with a chain belt. She has on stout boots whilst her sisters have shoulder length hair, wear pretty dresses and totter on stilettoes. There is something about Goldie which reminds Pansy of someone or something, but she can’t put her finger on it. She slides into the chair next to Goldie.
“How’s everybody?” Pansy says with outward cheer.
“Fine…”
Every question she asks is answered in monosyllabic tones as if its owner’s mind is elsewhere. She stops the questioning since she feels that she is beginning to sound like an interrogator. Silence descends. Each person becomes preoccupied with his iPhone, texting, scrolling down messages from Facebook and looking at photos. They are together, yet not together. Pansy looks across the restaurant and notices that this modern malady is repeated elsewhere, people coming together for a meal but still needing the virtual company of others. This has become accepted behaviour. It is no longer considered an insult to ignore your physical presence and attend to someone else elsewhere. Gone are the days when being with someone meant that they make you feel exclusive.
“What brand is your mobile?” Pansy asks Andie. “You seem to be able to do all kinds of fancy things on it.”
“It’s an Apple, grandma,” Andie says as if talking to someone out of time.
“Mine is a Blackberry,” Anthony says. “They’re all smart phones. Shall I get one for you?’
“Why? Are there stupid phones?” Pansy says and everyone laughs. “No, I will keep to my dinosaur model. Easier to use. I think life was simpler when apples and blackberries were just fruits.”
A teenage Pebbles look-alike, with her top hair knotted around a plastic bone, comes to take orders. The food arrives, and it looks like a feast for cavemen. No one invites the elders to eat first anymore before they start eating. Not like in the old days. Even Anthony has dropped this practice. The manner of eating is akin to cavemen after a good hunt, everyone holding the ribs and burgers in both hands, chewing and masticating with little delicacy. Tak seronoh sekali! She imagines Hock Chye and Kim Guek lamenting. Even though Peranakans, Malays and Indians eat with their fingers at home and in some restaurants, it is done with a graceful etiquette and decorum.
In between mouthfuls, there is a flicker of conversation.
“So how is your condo? Nice, right?” Emily says.
“Yes. Very nice,” Pansy says in facile agreement. “I have a beautiful garden to walk around in, but don’t have to do all the hard work to take care of it in this humidity.”
“See! I told you I was right!” Emily says triumphantly. “People often don’t see as far ahead as me. Trust me. I usually know what I am doing. I’m always right.”
“Err… That’s not true, mum,” Goldie says without preamble.
Anthony drops his monster rib in surprise. His eyes open wide. The others look up.
“Okay, what did I do that’s not right?” Emily says in
