Just a few nights ago, me and my ex-schoolmates (more buddies than mere ex-schoolmates really) had a birthday dinner outing in Sunway.
Now, I didn’t pick the place, but since I have never been there before, I thought it’s worth giving it a try. So once I met the master planner and got into the car with her to Sunway, all I could think about was my tummy and how hungry I felt despite having eaten a little something before coming out of home.
Sad to say, the restaurant my friend picked for the birthday girl fell short of most of our expectations. The minute I took a bite into the fish I ordered, I missed the fish they make in Chilis Bar and Grill. I tasted the chicken Karen gave me as well and well, … Sigh.
Besides the lousy food, the company was in full swing, with fun friends and good jokes, plus a little drama in the middle of the dinner (which was told in 3 different languages as our finer foreign friend noted in a very amused tone), made up for the lousy meals.
After dinner, we couldn’t wait to get out for a drink. And by definition of drink, Jo, the birthday girl, had hammered it into everyone’s head that I, me, the author, needs alcohol. Truth? I was having a pounding headache but it didn’t matter much then because I needed to be out.
“When I said I wanted a drink, it does not necessarily mean I want to get drunk!” I tried to explain to Jo. “And it doesn’t mean it has to be alcoholic!”
The trip to the bar didn’t materialize since it looked so dead from the outside, and in the end, the whole lot of us somehow ended up inside Starbucks. Once all 12 of us were seated firmly at a nice cozy corner, all manner of stories and conversations came up.
Now here’s where I heard a story that made it a memorable night for me.
Jo was, in all respects, loud and attention-grabbing. There’s no denying it, that should one ever walk into a room crammed full of people, you will NEVER be able to miss this little woman with the remarkable voice. After many years of knowing her, one gets used to her.
But then she mentioned something that got my fullest attention.
She recalled a small trip she once made to Melaka with 2 other of our friends just after secondary school. It was a very small budget trip in which they squeezed every cent they had just to make it happen. They stayed in a dodgy area which they later found out was a red light district, ate whatever food that wouldn’t cost more than a certain amount and then did their sight seeing as any normal visiting tourist or holiday maker would do.
So on that one fine morning while they were up exploring, Jo said that all 3 of them found a small folded stack of notes lying right in the middle of the road. Jo had picked it up, after they had taken quite awhile to be very sure no one was around to make any claim to it.
RM 250.00!
That was how much they found in the middle of the road while exploring the historical city of Melaka! I mean, seriously! The biggest note I’ve ever found so far in my life was an RM 10 (I know, it’s pathetic)! So what happened next?
Jo said she was so excited because in her head, that money would be able to settle so many things for them – food, transportation…etc… But the threesome consisted of Jo herself, Steph and ofcourse, Ling – one of the most ‘morally-correct’ friends in our gang. And Ling didn’t agree to Jo’s way of thinking and immediately announced that the money didn’t belong to any of them and that it should be handed over to the police.
What the f***?!?
The police?!?
When I heard that over my mug of hot chocolate, me and Puffy instantly looked at Ling (who was sitting right across the table from me) like she was crazed.
“What?” Ling exclaimed in her high pitched voice, “I didn’t know the police were not to be trusted! In my mind, that was the first thing that popped up at that time!”
“You have GOT to be kidding us!” Puffy exclaimed.
We didn’t let her go on that one and constantly berated her for it. A few laughs here and there and we got back to the story.
“So what happened then?” I asked.
Jo told us that she was so unwilling to part with the notes she found because she knew what it could be used for, especially when they were so tight with whatever money they had for the trip. And she knew without a doubt that surrendering it to the police would only serve to buy the entire department a big breakfast meal for the day. With Ling constantly trying to be morally in the right, Jo could only look to Steph for support. And Steph, being the neutral scale of any party, did not offer the right or wrong way of doing things. Steph, as according to Jo, didn’t give any comments.
With the angel and devil debate going on, with Steph caught in the mddle, they continued on with their historical trail, exploring the city until they could figure out a solution for the RM 250.00.
The answer came to them when they stepped into St. Peter’s Church, built in 1710 – one of the oldest churches found in Melaka itself.
“You would have thought that the donation box is just simply filled with coins and loose change,” Jo said somewhat regrettably. “But that’s when we decided that the money should be left to the church and let God take care of the rest.”
“It was the right thing to do!” Ling reassured Jo.
Kurt, Jo’s boyfriend, had a warm glow on his face as he patted her shoulder in an understanding manner.
“Yeah! But think of all the things we could have done with that money! We were so desperate for something to spend with and it was so hard to shove those notes down that tiny slit of a hole of that donation box!” Jo said morosely, repeating the action done so many years ago with her hand. “I can imagine the Father would have been so surprised to have a whole bunch of notes in that box!”
“It’s good karma, Jo,” Ling said reassuringly.
“It’s good karma,” Kurt said and smiled kindly.
“Yeah yeah…” Jo replied, somewhat pacified, still a small faraway look in her eye, remembering that fateful day.
As quick as lightning, the conversation shifted to how our shitty school’s education had to include ‘Moral’ as one of our subjects. That’s a never ending story, because none of us could ever get over the fact that words meant more than common sense itself.
But that didn’t bother me.
Jo’s story, for the better part of the night, filled me with warmth. Besides the splitting headache I was having, and the feeling of wanting to throw up the dinner I just had, her story made me feel so well connected with my friends.
For with it, I know that deep down, they are good and honest people, and that I am ever so happy to have them as my friends for life.
