redemption

you've probably heard this one b4

The painfully bright light glared into the piggy eyes of the prisoner, a squat fat man of about forty. The sun reflected off his greasy hair like a mirror, rippling as he moved. His pig-like nose was not a perfect protrusion from his face, if it could be called a face. His featured were rather smooshed, as if when he was a child, he had been dropped painfully on his face. His forehead revealed a fast retreating hairline, like an army attacking in reverse. The wrought iron gates slammed shut behind him, the shiny new words engraved onto the wall. “Changi Prison” it read. His reading skills were slow, after serving a thirty year prison sentence, mostly in solitary confinement. His arms were beefy and muscular, striated with hair, and in the clothes that he had not worn since his arrest, he looked more and more like a pig.

The speeding taxi screeched to a stop beside him. The driver looked at the prisoner as the man opened his mouth slowly. “Tampines Drive 38… please?” the rough gravelly voice of the piggy man swept over the driver. Staring at the tattoo winding around the prisoner’s arm, the driver nodded wordlessly, a distinct smirk playing around the corners of his lips.

The driver was not exactly young, but not exactly old either, averaging around thirty. His paunch and yellowed teeth gave the idea of an oversized rat, further reinforced by the long, snout like nose, and the skinny limbs. His ratty eyes constantly darted from left to right, and sometimes independently of each other, creating the effect that the man was uncoordinated. However, uncoordinated was the one thing that the driver was not. Smoothly changing gears, and then with one eye staring straight at the prisoner, he read the name on the bracelet.

“Swee Chon Kee?” he asked the hint of a snicker in his voice.

“A name from the past. It means nothing to me now.” Replied the passenger. A lie. It was charged with meaning for the prisoner. Swee was his girlfriend. Pregnant by him, before the imprisonment, she had married another during his ten year imprisonment. At the time, he felt broken, damaged, betrayed, but now, looking back at it, he only had himself to blame. His life in tatters, nary a cent to his name, what respectable girl in her right mind would remain with a tramp like him?

“Oh. You must be Samson then. I’ve heard what my wife says about riffraff like you.” Samson’s eyes lit up.

“You know Swee?” he demanded, sitting bolt upright in his chair, fast for a man of his age.

“No lah. My wife always plays mahjong with her. How not to hear her sigh to my wife about her ex-boyfriend.” Samson slumped backwards into the seat, a defeated expression on his face.

“There was an incident…” Samson tried to explain. Then, his gravelly voice trailed away, his eyes glazed over. The incident… how could he forget? The cocksure young leader of his gang had challenged a rival gang for their turf. The full blown out gang war that ensued was the definite notice of the local police, with a casualty counts nearing fifty, Samson had not actually participated in the fights, only his friends. But one by one, they started disappearing, either dead, or caught by the police. Then, the coffee shop exploded in a flurry of fighting as Samson walked in through the door. There was a knife in his back pocket. He didn’t use it. His fist hurt a rival member, and then, struck by the enormity of the situation, he stood frozen as the surmounting rival gang members surrounded him, taunting him as his friends all lay groaning around him. Then, a bloodied knife was pressed into his hands, the gleam of a malicious smile, and then, a heavy fist smashed his face, and the world spun, ears ringing, spitting blood, he didn’t hear the police. Within seconds, the guardians of the law had put him in handcuffs, wrestled the knife out of his death grip, and pushed him into a car.

“Hey you listening or not?” asked the driver. Samson shook himself out of his reverie, and then paid the driver. Heaving himself painfully out of the car seat, he stood in the afternoon light, smelling the sweet smell of the ixora flowers growing near his block. Swee had left the block; she had told him so in her last visit, with her fiancé, Vincent. The lift creaked as Samson pulled himself into the lift, the groan of an ancient creature.

The floor was just as he remembered, if not a little cleaner. The door to his apartment was open, and he looked in. “Swee?” a lady in a nightshirt walked to the door.

“Dad?” the sound of an angel’s wind chimes. Samson’s throat gripped up. Beautiful darling, I never should have left. “You recognize me?” Samson growled. What a failure I’ve been. Couldn’t even provide for Swee. Couldn’t even provide for Ariel. A beautiful name for a beautiful daughter. I shouldn’t have come. “Yes Father.” Then his daughter looked over her shoulder and called “Ma!” a lady in a floral shirt and the baggy pants that one associates with old people staggered into sight. “Sam?” she gasped, feeling his face. Samson realized with a shock that she was blind. Swee trusted me, I let down that trust. “Haiya, come inside. Nobody is home.” Samson tottered towards the door, and then stopped. “What about Vincent?” he asked cautiously, a wary look on his face. “Vincent died a year ago, while away in Penang with his mistress.” Explained his daughter, spitting out Vincent’s name like it was a swear word. He had a mistress? I didn’t even realize he was capable of skullduggery. Samson lumbered into the master bedroom and gasped. Vincent had mutilated the room beyond recognition. Cracks ran down the walls and plaster peeled off. The floor was so dusty that he left footprints walking across it. A needle idled around on the desk. Drug abuse. Samson threw it into the disused plastic bag at the corner of the room.

“You like the room? We’ll tidy it up together.” Said Swee from behind him, putting a small papery feeling hand on his shoulder. Outside, the rain started to fall. Samson stuck his tongue out, and caught a few of the raindrops on his tongue, savoring the sweet taste of redemption

Reviews

[Undying Glory]

nice work man. great description and i love the ending. great work

[The_Dreamer]

Curious twist at the end, it is good because you avoided the far too overused cliched endings that people normally associate with main characters who are prisoners released from jail. Nice story!