Without You I Have Nothing (44 page)

BOOK: Without You I Have Nothing
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“Just how far they
carried me and where we were, I didn’t know. Finally cut free from that damned
bamboo pole I fell to the ground, unable to walk.

“As I looked up,
there was my mother, clad in a Sarong Kebaya - a sarong with a tight, very
tight, jacket highlighting her breasts and waist (the Singapore Airlines
Hostess style uniform) - standing on the verandah of an attap (a Malay
traditional hut of bamboo and banana leaves). She looked so calm and refreshed
while I was lying there, still unable to move from the way my abductors had
carried me suspended from a bamboo pole.

I wanted to scream my
horror and my hatred for her. I couldn’t understand what had happened, and
right at that moment, I blamed her with all my heart especially as the ugly
Chinese had just appeared at her side and was kissing her passionately.

“Screaming and crying
to her for help, I watched as his hands began to pluck at the buttons on her
blouse. Little did I realize that she like me was a terrified prisoner of this
man and his gang.

“‘Ah, ‘The Little
One’!  Tonight I shall break him into my bed. He can become my bum boy’ and he
cackled evilly.

His followers laughed
and slapped each other at the joke but I fell silent, not knowing what he
wanted of me.

“My mother put my
safety and well being before her own. Ignoring the danger in which she was
placing herself she screamed, ‘NO!  If you touch him then you will never have
me again’ and she beat at him with her fists.

“Snarling like some
wild creature, he flung her to the verandah floor. ‘You don’t think he’d please
me, eh?  All right,’ he turned to three of his followers, ‘take him to the
cross and give him fifty lashes.’

“Turning back to my
mother he leered, ‘Let us see how your spawn likes that. Remember, my whore, he
gets fifty lashes anytime you fail in your duties of pleasing me.’  He dragged
her to her feet and I was dragged off to the sounds of my mother’s screams and
moans.”

Jennifer leant
forward stretching out to place her hand on Peter’s shoulder - a simple action
telling him she felt for his misery.

Peter’s eyes flicked
to her face and a slight smile told her he appreciated her action.

“Stripped, I was tied
to a bamboo whipping post and the first blow of the rattan cane fell. I was
five but that didn’t save me. To stop myself from screaming, I bit into my
cheek, refusing to allow my tormentors the pleasure of hearing my agony.

“All I could think of
in my childish ignorance was that I would kill this man for what he had done to
my father and me. I vowed Eui Si Soon would pay a very high price for the
pleasure he had taken in the arms of my mother.”

“Bloody hell!”  It
was too much for Andrew.

Elizabeth made no
comment but her hands flew to her mouth in disgust then she clung to Jennifer
as the two wept softly for the image of that little boy in the jungle.

Eric swore softly and
leant across to slide his arm around his wife’s shoulders as if to support her.

“I was five and
unconscious before the cane had fallen five times.

“The next morning I
regained consciousness, still tied the post, but it wasn’t long before someone
decided that as a young Matt Selah, a white man, I would make an excellent spy
and I was set free.

“To ensure my
effectiveness as a spy, the next day my lessons began. They pounded Malay,
Cantonese, Thai, Tamil, Indonesian, Lao and Mandarin - reading and writing -
into my head and the moment I faltered the dreaded cane fell.

“Mathematics became
my favorite. That teacher was the only kind one of all my so-called tutors. He
always gave me special tidbits to eke out the poor food I was given.

“Day after day, week
after week the group moved from jungle hole to jungle hole keeping clear of the
choppers. Mum did her best to protect me but she was just as much a prisoner as
I was. She could not escape because of me and I could not escape because of her.
We were living in hell.

“I ate snakes and
insects to stay alive, scrubbed my skin with sand in jungle streams to keep
clean, cleaned my teeth and scraped my tongue with bamboo to keep healthy and I
burnt leeches from my body.”

Peter could hear
Jennifer’s soft weeping and saw Andrew pull her head to his shoulder to console
her while he continued. “The lessons and the beatings continued. These beatings
were especially severe when visitors arrived at the camp. Eui Si Soon feted the
visitors and gave Mum to them as a present to enjoy.

“Those times I
dreaded in particular. Once I received the beating, whoever flogged me rubbed
salt into the lash marks. When I regained consciousness I had to go into the
bedroom with food and drink for the guest while…”

The horror and the
terror Peter was outlining affected Jennifer and her mother. Beginning to weep
loudly they clung to each other. They understood the trauma that he had endured
every day of his childhood.

Peter heard Eric’s
angry comment, “What kind of people were these. We treat our animals better
than they treated you,” but unable to respond, Peter left it unheeded as he
persisted with his tale.

Almost whimpering,
with anger in his voice Peter shook his head violently, and persevered.

“Jennifer, you must
remember our time together on stage, how you found it difficult to believe that
I could disguise myself so well during the melodrama.”

Jennifer, looking at
him through her tears, could only nod in agreement.

“The cast, too,
didn’t recognize me on stage that final night. The truth is, I had many years
of using a disguise for my own survival, and one little pause, one stumble, one
error, no matter how trivial meant I would have died at the whim of either
Malay security police or the Thai military.

“I was the group’s
spy, and wearing contact lenses to hide my blue ‘Christian’ eyes I was sent to
villages to gather information, to purchase food, or to lead the special
visitors back to the camp which was constantly moving.

“My disguise lessons
included lessons in the Holy Koran so I could worship with Malays, and lessons
in Buddhism so I could pass unnoticed in a throng of believers. I was also
trained to pray at the altars for ancestors.

“I was about ten and
was wandering down a jungle track when I felt a pair of small grubby hands
pulling me into the thickets. An Orang Kanaq, a Malay aborigine, squatted in
front of me and his words surprised me.

“‘It is time. It is
time for ‘The Little One’ to become a man,’ he said.

“That was when the
most important education of my life started. I became an assassin. The
aborigines taught me to kill. They taught me to shoot until I became an expert
sharpshooter and a killer, and I didn’t always have to use a gun.

“They intended to use
this Matt Selah to rid the jungle of this evil, believing the gang would never
suspect this young boy - their spy - of being capable of inflicting death. The
aborigines knew the Chinese culture well.

Peter rose and
silently moved to the back of the altar. He produced a cigarette box that he
placed on the coffee table. Carefully he picked out a small cigarette-like
piece of bamboo, hollowed his lips and puffed.

The family watched
silently as this was so unexpected. The story had ceased and Peter had taken
center stage.

“Andrew, try to move
your right arm.”

Andrew looked down to
see his shirt pinned to the arm of his chair by a small bamboo dart. He
shuddered.

Peter continued. “That
dart wasn’t poisoned, but had it been, it could just as easily have struck you
in the throat and you would’ve died instantly. Look at the dart and you’re
looking at death. Yes, Eric and Elizabeth, I can ride horses, ride motor bikes
and sing and dance but to my shame and horror - I’m a trained killer.”

Eric and Elizabeth
studied each other for some clue as to how they would treat their new
son-in-law, yet they both knew there was no choice.

This man had saved their
daughter’s life and had begged for their permission to marry her. It was
obvious their daughter loved him, and his history, although hideous, was in the
past after all.

There wasn’t a sound
as Peter retrieved the dart and replaced it even more carefully in the
blowpipe, which he replaced in the cigarette box. He studied at the faces
before him in the family circle before continuing, “For about four years I
learnt to become a killing machine - experienced in making poisons, accurate
with my winged death and with guns. There were intensive training sessions in
unarmed combat where the aim was to put the opposition down to stay down.

“I had a
comprehensive education in everything from death to language lessons, reading
lessons, religious lessons, math lessons and lessons in pain.”  He almost
shrieked the word ‘pain’ as though he could feel the rattan cane lashing into
him still.

“However I had no
lessons in humanity!”

The family winced. The
pictures Peter painted were so vivid they could almost see his turmoil and
smell his hatred. They certainly shared his anguish.

“Suddenly, the games
became more dangerous. The gang brought four prisoners into the clearing - twin
Chinese girls and twin Tamil girls.

“Because the girls
were twins the gang considered them good luck and had kidnapped them to gain
finances from two powerful, wealthy families. One family was in Singapore the
other in Malaysia.

“My mother, knowing
the horrors that faced them as prisoners of her evil lover went hysterical at
the sight, and that day my beating with the rattan cane was particularly
severe.

“Not content with
ensuring my back was running in blood and then rubbing salt into my back, my
torturers rubbed acid leaves into the mess that was my flesh as they tried to
force me to scream.

“They sealed their
own death warrants.

“At night the five of
us - the four girls and I - huddled together under a hut for warmth and safety.
During the day, I made certain no one touched them. I was their protector and
guardian. For months, the five of us built a friendship where I was their
shield and big brother.

“When their food was
insufficient, I gave up mine or I stole food from the cookhouse so they didn’t
go hungry. In spite of everything, the jungle, the heat and the poor food the
girls seemed to thrive.

“Then disaster struck.
Within two weeks of each other, they started bleeding. Their sexual clocks had
started and I overheard the cruel voice of Eui Si Soon. ‘Well, our little
sparrows will make everyone happy after I have broken them in.’ His laugh was
evil.”

Andrew leant forward
in his chair, and Peter heard him breathe, “No, surely he wouldn’t!”

Without glancing at
Andrew, Peter returned to the horror of his former life.

“That night we crept
into the darkness of the jungle and I led them to the Orang Kanaq’s clearing
where we hid until the sun rose. Using all the skills the aborigines had taught
me, I led the frightened girls to the nearest kampong - a Malay village - where
I ordered the police to take us to the local town. There my blue eyes, not my fluent
Malay, achieved the desired result.

“Explaining the
presence of the girls I suggested they inform KL - Kuala Lumpur - the capital -
that they had the girls. Not trusting the police, I listened intently to the
conversation before snatching the phone to order, in fluent Malay, a detachment
of police to come and collect the girls.

“I sat in the corner
of the office with the girls, consoling them and begging them to go to their
parents for help. They had to do something or both Mum and I would be dead.

“Hearing the rumble
of armed vehicles approaching I fled to lie in the long grass, watching a
number of armed scout cars arrive. Politely the police escorted the girls to
the leading armored car and the convoy left.

“Earlier the girls
had cuddled me and kissed me, begging that I leave with them, but I still had a
job to do. I had to free my mother.

“Sadly, I watched the
vehicles carrying my four little friends disappear into the distance before I
faded into the shadows.

“Three days later I
was heading towards the jungle clearing. To be frank, I was stupid and at the
age of 14 especially with what had happened to me, I should have known better. Truthfully,
my mind was busy planning to free my mother - nothing more.

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