Children are highly amusing, inquisitive and downright innocent creatures. And at times their honesty can cause their parents much embarrassment and pain! But of course as a bystander, I only smiled and continued slurping “wan tan” noodles from the bowl without asking another question. My dad who is still an old kid at heart spent time listening to this little girl, probably aged four or five.
Our young friend escaped from the animosity and tension that were multiplying between her parents. They sat at the table directly behind mine and even with my back facing them I could sense their rising anger. When my order of iced lemon tea arrived I gulped the cooling water visualizing the engulfing fire beginning to settle. It seemed that my visualization didn’t work because the man’s voice grew louder although he was clenching his teeth to conceal his words from escaping to the ears of strangers around him. I turned my head slightly and the man’s eyes caught mine and he quickly reached for his packet of cigarette. Who I saw gazing straight into my soul was his daughter. She did not bat an eyelid. She was caught in the verbal battle that her parents formed in her space.
My dad was enjoying eating his plate of chicken rice when our young friend decided to break away from the heat of the moment and forayed into a more relaxing territory. We readily greeted her and my dad asked her, “What is your name?” She replied in a soft and yet forceful tone, “Felicia.”
Again I peeped at her parents realizing that the man was on the phone while the woman was typing a short message. I reckoned that their drowning child must have sneaked away unnoticed.
“Are you going to school?” my dad continued to chat with her.
“No! I am not…” Felicia paused for awhile and as if out of the darkness of her being she shook her head vigorously. “Yes, I am… but don’t tell my father.”
My dad and I were stunned by her reply but she didn’t give us time to reflect further. Without hesitating a moment, Felicia came closer to my dad almost whispering in to his ears, “I am going to school when staying with mum and her boyfriend. Don’t tell my father that I call him papa too.”
We were completely lost for words. My dad only nodded. I wonder what made the child to confide in us. Out of our wildest expectations, she placed her frail tiny hand on my dad’s and she grasped it for a few seconds. Satisfied, she relinquished her grip, smiled at both my dad and I. Her parents must have noticed that their offspring had disappeared and so the woman walked over hastily to reclaim her property. She neither said a word nor acknowledged us.
For one more time, I looked over my shoulders. The young child was holding in her much confusion, guilt and uncertainty that she could not understand. Innocence died. Adulthood loomed before she has the maturity to comprehend the butterflies in her stomach each time she meets her biological father. But as for now, my dad and I are keepers of her secret. She probably felt relieved that she can freely liberate her petite heart.
Felicia waved as she walked passed us when leaving the restaurant. Lunch was getting cold. We hurriedly ate our food and moved on with our daily chores still feeling a little puzzled by our lunchtime encounter.
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