Chapter 3

+ CHAPTER 3 +

 

Malay Town

 

John the coach had standby the opened door for her and shut it after Robin got inside with her.

 

A village full of brick houses and high-pitched roofs were built in between the areas of the sugarcane fields and the beach.

 

In the house, there was a moustached man in his early forties wearing a black truncated cap on his head and a matching pair of pyjamas with a three-buttoned collar tunic shirt. 

 

Sitting next to him was a hazel-eyed woman his age that wore a full-length dress that suited her batik sarong, and a head cloth that was used to cover her head from the heat and for modesty.  She was holding a bowl of water with some herbal leaves. 

 

The blond policeman had just gained his conscious after lying down on the mattress laid upon the wooden floor.  He had a scar on the left side of his forehead. 

 

“Do not be afraid – you are safe with us, dear,” said the lady.  “There was a slight cut on the left side of your forehead and I applied cold water with these herbal leaves to help alleviate the pain.”

 

Then, two boys popped into the scene, whose physical appearances resembled those who have recently rescued distressed Eleanor. 

 

Instead of wearing conical hats, they wore the same black fez truncated caps as the man of the house.

 

“We appreciate your deserving courageous efforts in rescuing distressed Eleanor from the four hooligans earlier today,” said Megat.  “You may call me Megat, this is my brother, Demang, and these are our beloved parents, Pak Ujang and Mak Delima.”

 

“I am honoured to meet you all,” replied Niall.  “I am Niall Gallagher.” 

 

“We are honoured to have your company, Mr. Niall Gallagher,” Demang responded.

 

“You may simply address me as Niall,” said Niall.

 

“How are you feeling now, Niall?” Mak Delima asked.

 

“I am feeling fine now, thank you, Mak Delima,” replied Niall.

 

“Eleanor, wake up!  We are soon to have our dinner!”

 

Eleanor opened her eyes and she saw a blurred figure that eventually clearly envisioned in front of her. 

 

It was Darren, her brother.  He was standing right in front of her, and he had just waked her up from her long gone afternoon nap. 

 

He wore a pair of black tailored trousers, vest and long-sleeved white shirt underneath.  The room had a brightly lit chandelier. 

 

They soon arrived at the dining room.  Their father was already present at the table with a butler standing at the corner of the room.  The rectangular dining table was covered with a white tablecloth, surround by ornate wooden dining chairs with cushion seats. 

 

The interior of the dining room had lime-green damask wallpaper and a fireplace behind Sir Harold’s chair.  There is an exclusive golden candelabrum, with its three lit candles gleaming in the middle of the table. 

 

A small chandelier was hanging up above on the ceiling.  The base of the chandelier was beautiful bordered by the intricate rose ceiling, of which it gave a more splendorous character. 

 

Sir Harold seemed calm and he said, “Good evening, my dear Eleanor and Darren.  Let us begin our dinner together now.” 

 

“Good evening, father,” Eleanor greeted back.  “You seem to be here earlier than us.  I apologise for our late presence tonight.”

 

“Save your apologies, Eleanor,” said Sir Harold.  “Margaret kindly informed me of your nap in the living room and Darren took the decision to awake you.  Matthew, could you please inform the chef that my two children and I are now ready to have our cream of mushroom soup now?” 

 

“Certainly, I shall convey him your message right away,” replied Matthew the butler. 

 

“Thank you, Matthew,” Sir Harold replied.

 

“My pleasure, Your Excellency,” the butler responded.

 

Soon, three bowls of appetising hot mushroom soup have landed at the dining table.

 

Of the five cutleries, the three began eating by using the soup spoon, which is on the far right.    

 

“It seems that dinner sounds more appetising then ever tonight,” said Eleanor, after taking a sip of her soup.  “You must inform the chef about this, Matthew.”

 

“I shall do the honour, Ms. Harold,” said Matthew.

    

There were a few lit oil lamps hanging onto the wooden walls of the Sulongs’ house.

 

It was already sunset.  To the Malays, sunset marks the beginning of a new day.

 

“Pak Sulong, must I conform to your method of grace?” asked Ned.

 

“No, Ned – we believe that there should be no compulsion in religion,” replied Pak Sulong.  “As our Holy Scripture reveals: ‘To you be your religion and to me be mine’.  It is your right to conform to your Christian way, while we conform to ours.”

 

Upon raising his hands and facing up palms, Pak Sulong said in grace, “In the name of God, the Most Gracious and Most Merciful.  We eat and drink in God’s name and with the blessings granted by Him.  Amen.” 

 

“Amen!” said everyone else at once.

 

They all placed their palms on their faces for a while.  Ned had prayed in his own way with the Sign of the Cross and hand folding, retaining his Trinitarian Christian belief.

 

Like others, Niall washed his hands in his individual fingerbowl with lemon and water thoroughly, before commenced eating.

 

“Do you always wash your hands before commencing a meal?” asked Niall.

 

“Yes, of course, it is part of our tradition to always wash hands before commencing a meal,” replied Pak Ujang.  “It’s for hygiene purpose.”

 

“Traditionally, we ate with our right hands, but today we use cutlery,” said Mak Delima.  “However, I suppose it’s good to keep up with personal hygiene as part of our daily lifestyle.”

 

“Fair enough,” responded Niall.

 

Demang poured water into his father’s bamboo cup whilst Megat poured water into his mother’s.  By then, the boys poured their own cups to quench their thirst.

 

Pak Ujang, Mak Delima, Megat and Demang all ate with their right hands, pinching on the rice with some other condiments.  They were all sitting at a table and they ate with forks and spoons.

 

Demang patiently taught him to eat with his right hand neatly on his banana leaf plate.  Megat observed Niall to see if he was right and found that he was a fast learner.  The three boys got along well with their conversation.  Niall got to know friendly Pak Ujang and Mak Delima a bit more as well. 

 

“Do the Malays have a traditional sport?” asked Niall.

 

“Yes, we do, and it is called Sepak Takraw,” said Pak Ujang.  “In Sepak Takraw, each team would at least form a group of two or three people.  Whoever hits the ball onto the ground of the duelling team shall win.”

 

“Do you play Sepak Takraw?” asked Niall.

 

“I used to engage myself more actively in Sepak Takraw when I was younger before age limits my potentials,” said Pak Ujang.  “My two sons have now taken over my position as active players of the sport.”

 

“I would love to become part of this new outdoor activity,” responded Niall. “I enjoy lots of physical activities.  So, when do your sons normally play the sport?”

 

“Ask them,” replied Pak Ujang.

 

“When do you boys usually engage yourselves in Sepak Takraw?” asked Niall.

 

Demang replied, “We normally engage ourselves in the sport early in the morning after breakfast or late in the afternoon after when it is not too hot.  However, as for you, it is best to wait for two days before playing Sepak Takraw to ensure your full recovery.”

 

“Superintendent Gallagher is a good man,” said Pak Ujang.  “I have long heard of heroic stories about him.  I am very pleased to meet his well-mannered son here at my home.”

 

“We shall be honoured to have the pleasure of Ciaran’s company,” said Mak Delima.  “Please do invite him over some day.”

 

“That is a fabulous idea,” Niall said.  “I shall see to it.”

 

Soon, he complained of the sudden pain he had.  “Oh, my head!  I feel a sudden dizziness, in the likeness of a fast spinning house.”

 

“Demang is right that you simply require some good rest for full recovery.  Please do have some herbal tea I have prepared for you.  It is most helpful for your recuperation,” said Mak Delima gently while handing out a cup of tea to him.

 

“Thank you, Mak Delima,” Niall said. 

 

“You are welcome, Niall,” she replied.

 

“God willing, you shall feel much better soon,” said Pak Ujang, smiling warmly.  “A long day awaits us tomorrow.”

 

Niall replied, “Yes, it certainly does.”

 

The boys led Niall into their bedroom and closed its door behind them.  The boys unfolded three slim mattresses on the wooden floor, helping Niall to lie down onto one of them. 

 

“Here we go, Niall.  This is a pillow for your head’s comfort during your sleep,” Demang said whilst placing a pillow gently below Niall’s head. 

 

“And here is a blanket for you to go with it, Niall,” said Megat, while placing a blanket gently on him. 

 

“I must thank you lads for your hospitality,” Niall responded. 

 

“My pleasure, Niall, for it is our duty to ensure you feel welcome,” said Demang, smiling warmly.  “Please do not hesitate to inform us should you require anything else.”

 

“We are here for you, Niall,” said Megat.

 

“Thank you, gentlemen,” replied Niall.  “Good night.”

 

“Good night!” responded both Demang and Megat, then yawning, covering their mouths with their right hands.

 

Later, they removed their black caps and flattened them out.  While sitting on their mattresses, they raised their open hands to the front and said their bedtime prayer;

 

In Your name, Lord, who causes me to lie down, and in Your name will I be raised. O God, You are the first and before you there is nothing; You are the outmost and above You there is nothing; Wake me, O God, in the hour most pleasing to You and use me in the works most pleasing to You, that You may bring me ever nearer to Yourself.

 

On the other hand, Niall maintained his invocation to his Catholic God, involving the Sign of the Cross to symbolise the Holy Trinity.  Then, the light coming from the oil lamp was extinguished, leaving the bedroom overcoming with complete darkness. 

 

Niall soon recuperated fully after two days.

 

With Megat and Demang’s accompaniment, Niall played Sepak Takraw with the other boys in the neighbourhood.  The boys were surprised about the identical looks on Niall and Megat, but they did not show the impression and rather treated the three boys nicely.  

 

Niall decided to explore the Malay Quarter and observed the social activities.  In the early evening, the neighbourhood was well lit with oil lamp torches standing along the earthen streets. 

 

Later, crowds of people walked about on feet around the wet market. 

 

A satay hawker served his appetising skewered cube meats to his hungry customers.  Overwhelming smells of aromatic spices, sweet-tasting fruits and colourful sights of textile fabrics dominated the market.

 

Niall walked past a wayang kulit show on the side street, of which attracted quite a big audience from inside and outside Malay Quarter.  He then noticed from quite a distance an elder man sitting on a stool and brilliantly fiddling a rebab, which is a lute-like string instrument accompanied with its fiddle. 

 

Accompany the orchestra was a beautiful young lady who was dancing gracefully and singing a nostalgic song.  The girl wore a dark purple-brown baju kebaya, a long-sleeved knee-length blouse pinned together with brooches, which is normally worn with the floral batik sarong.  She wore a colourful cloth over her head, and she was a girl with a melodious voice.

 

Betapa indah tarian Melayu di malam bayu.

O graceful hands, I now sway, I feel its light,

How great it feels dancing through the night,

Now I move my feet,

And follow the beat.

Give it a try, give it a chance,

Let us rejoice in the Malay dance.

Marilah hibur hati bersama...

 

There have been a number of people joining and watching her sing and dance, which was accompanied by the fantastic fiddler and gong striker. 

 

“Ah, the singer has a voice that is amongst the sweetest kind,” Niall thought.

 

How do you do, Officer Niall Gallagher?” asked an unknown lady with familiar voice.

 

He turned around wondering who it could be and saw a beautiful brown-haired young lady his age in a green Victorian dress.

 

“Oh, good evening.  I am fine thank you.  I presume we have been introduced, have we not?” asked Niall.  “How did you know my name?”

 

“That’s an unadulterated correct presumption,” Eleanor replied.  “We have met earlier today at Murphy’s Tavern.  A pair of fine young gentlemen that rescued us told me about you, and they spoke highly of you.”

 

Niall thought for a few minutes. 

 

“Oh yes, Miss Eleanor Holloway, we certainly have met at Murphy’s Tavern,” responded Niall.“I dorecall trying to rescue you from those hooligans before darkness overwhelmed me.  A kind damsel like you must highly prioritise personal safety. You should not loiter in the oddest places.”

 

“You may simply address me as ‘Eleanor’,” Eleanor responded.  “Yes, I agree with you, Mister Niall Gallagher, and it is for your courage and dedication that I should like to award you in person.” 

 

“It is a pleasure, Eleanor, and you may address me as ‘Niall’,” said Niall, shaking hands with her.

 

“Thank you for your noble boldness,” said Eleanor.  “Your pride for the good of society and your deserving generosity shall always prevail in my memory.”

 

It was this very moment that she was about to kiss his cheek.

 

“Excuse me, were you about to lay your lips on me, Miss Holloway?” asked Niall.  “Pardon me, Eleanor, but that is rather inappropriate to the public eyes.”

 

“Forgive me for such disrespect,” replied Eleanor.  “I have forgotten that such conspicuous behaviour is taboo here.  I am grateful to your reminder.”

 

“My pleasure always,” replied Niall.  “It is my priority to bring order to society.  You will see more of me in town.”

 

“What is your purpose here, Eleanor?” asked Niall.  “Your high society friends will be dismayed seeing you frequently being present among the working class society.”

 

“That has never been a concerning issue to me, Niall,” replied Eleanor.  “It has occurred to me that the working and middle classes are less dull than the many members of high society.”

 

“How do you value a person, Eleanor?” asked Niall.

 

“An individual does not necessary become rich through inheritance, but through determination as well as having wisdom in economics and finance,” replied Eleanor.  “I must also add that the wealth must also contribute to society through charity and humbleness.  This is how I value a person.”

 

“You have a highly dignified character for a wealthy lady, Eleanor,” responded Niall.

 

“Indeed, but one must have such highly dignified character whether opulent or poor,” responded Eleanor.

 

They conversed a little whilst observing the kampong atmosphere before they dismissed one another for the night. 

 

“You have been a stimulating company, but I must leave now,” said Eleanor. “Good night, Mister Gallagher – Niall.” 

 

“Good night, Eleanor,” Niall replied.  “Best wishes for you and have a pleasant sleep.”

 

“It is worthy for this damsel to hear such words of compliments,” Eleanor said.  “I shall meet you in my dream tonight.  Perhaps, this is the only way I am able to lay my luscious lips on you.”

 

She gave him a flying kiss.

 

“And you may also receive the flying lips of mine, gorgeous lady,” responded Niall, returning her his flying kiss.

 

“Oh, Niall!  I am so joyous to your kiss!  Good night!” said Eleanor.

 

“Good night, Eleanor!” responded Niall, winking at her.

 

She covered her mouth, giggled excitedly and walked into her coach. 

 

Niall blushed and grinned away.  God knows what she was dreaming of him.

 

The Malays despised only one man.  His name was Musang Maling.  He had black wavy hair, bushy moustache and tan skin with a pair of suspicious looking eyes.  He is typically seen with his full Malay costume, a black fez cap and a coat. 

 

Pak Ujang had once entrusted him to pay for the service cost of repairing the Malay community hall’s door.  Musang delayed it for another month and Pak Ujang was blamed for it and he had to fix the problem himself.  Musang said he was still negotiating with Pak Ujang about it and that he has not been given adequate money for the payment.  All the Malays soon learnt of Musang swindling Pak Ujang’s money to pay his personal debts.  As a result, they began isolating him after acknowledging his dishonesty, and not a single word was spoken to him.  He became an outcast amongst them. 

 

“Lihat, itunya penipu besar!  Pencuri duit Pak Ujang!  Oh, patutlah.  Itu sebab dia anak ‘Maling’ (Look, here comes the big scam artist!  He stole Pak Ujang’s money!  Oh, no wonder.  That’s why he’s the son of ‘Maling’ [thief])!” 

 

It was a Malay man who made bitter statements about Musang to his group of friends that.  

 

“Ye betul tu.  Agaknya dia memang berasal dari keluarga penyamun (Yes that is true.  Maybe he’s descended from a family of rogues),”confirmed one of his mates. 

 

A lady in her late twenties, with inky long tresses, visited the fruits market.  A few self-employed Malay women grew those nutritious produces themselves.

 

“Boleh saya tumpang bertanya?  Adakah benar suami awak, Musang, menipu Pak Ujang kian hari (May I ask you a question?  Is it true that your husband, Musang, cheated Pak Ujang recently)?” asked a woman in her thirties.

 

“Itu tidak benar.  Suami saya tidak pernah menipu dan mencuri(That is not true.  My husband has never been a cheat and thief)!” said a young Malay lady defensively.

 

Three women at the market mocked her, “Sudahlah isteri penipu! Jangan hendak bohong kami.  Awak pergi jauh sajalah(Enough, cheater’s wife!  Don’t lie to us.  You can just get lost)!” 

 

The lady walked away as fast as she could to hide her face from the public mockery.  She was last seen crying.

 

“Amboi, nak minta kesianlah tu menangis– yang keluarnya tangisan buaya(Wow, it looks like she’s crying trying to seek pity – it’s crocodile tears that’s coming out),” said one of the ladies.

 

“Sudahlah, jangan hina orang lagi – tak baik – berdosa nanti (Enough, don’t insult people anymore – it’s no good – it’s a sin),” said a Malay man in white clothes and a white cap and he was carrying a set of prayer beads.  “Walauya pun dia seorang isteri penipu, kita jangan menghina. Lebih baik kita saling bermaaf-maafan dan meminta Tuhan mengampuni dosa musuh kita (Although she’s a wife of a cheater, we shouldn’t insult.  It’s better for us to forgive each other and ask God to forgive the sins of our enemies)?”

 

While visiting Malay Town one night Niall had dinner at a Malay restaurant called Kedai Makan, where the Malay cultural dances and music were performed. 

 

The young ladies were dancing to the inang music so gracefully with their hands, following the rhythm of the accompanying rebab stringed instrument and gong.  It was a courtly dance, fit to entertain the Malay royal families. 

 

The dancing young women wore the baju kebaya, and have flower-decorated hair buns. 

 

The tables there have benches seated with guests.  Pak Ujang and Mak Delima had an enjoyable time conversing casually with the Malay community.  Surprisingly, Ciaran and Eleanor were seen sitting with them.  They all enjoyed the pleasure of one another’s company.   

 

A man with slanting eyes, drooping Fu-Manchu moustache and goatee, had just entered the restaurant.  He was wearing a curved conical hat top, a working class pair of changsam, white spats and black cotton shoes with brown sole.   

 

He worked with his wife, and their teenage daughter who both wore cheongsam top and a pairs of trousers that went with it.

 

“Bapak, Ibu, Megat.  Pencuci dobi sudah pun sampai.  Tolong berikan saya bajunya (Father, Mother, Megat.  The laundryman is here.  Please hand over to me the clothes),” Demang called out. 

 

“Ya, Demang,” responded Mak Delima, agreeing to him.

 

The Sulong family took the fresh vegetables from the market gardener.

 

“Nei ho ma, Ah Fei-Hong, Kwan Ying (How are you, Ah Fei-Hong, Kwang Ying)?” The family all greeted them in Cantonese before the parents went back to work. 

 

“Ho, em-koy (Good, thank you),” replied Ah Fei-Hong the laundryman to show his happiness.  Megat and Demang had a short conversation with the laundry people and colleague in Cantonese.  They were served some tea as a sign of courtesy. 

 

“Boleh saya ambil pesan, Megat (May I take your order)?” asked a Malay teenage girl, who was wearing a red baju kebaya.  She was the most gorgeous of her kind.

 

“Forgive me, I do not speak a word of Malay, ma’am.  Besides, my name is not Megat, but Niall – Niall Gallagher.  May I kindly enquire as to yours?”

 

Melor looked in disbelief at first but she soon introduced herself, “I am Melor Kencana.  It is a pleasure to meet you.  How may I be of service, sir?”

 

Niall replied, “I feel most honoured to know you too, Miss Melor Kencana.  By the way, I should like to have some tea please.” 

 

“Certainly, sir.  I shall send you a pot of tea right away.”

 

Melor quickly left to get Niall’s teapot and cup and got back to him. 

 

“Thank you, Miss Kencana,” said Niall.  “Say, weren’t you singing in the streets of this neighbourhood last night?”

 

Melor replied, “Yes, it was my melodious voice you’ve heard at that very hour.” 

 

Niall said, “Then, I must compliment your talented singing, Miss Kencana.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Melor responded.  “Pardon me, Mister Gallagher, but I must go.  I have an unavoidable duty to attend to.” 

 

“Very well, you are free to go,” said Niall.   

 

A young English lady stood right next to a Malay girl her age, and they were watching the dancing woman.  She was practising the graceful Malay dance with her hands whilst observing the Malay girl who taught her the swift yet delicate hand movements.

 

“You are almost there, Eleanor.  That was a marvellous attempt.” 

 

“That’s very encouraging of you, Melor,” replied the young English lady.  “Does this graceful dance have its name?”

 

“Inang is its name,” replied the Malay girl.  “It’s a rapturing centuries-old courtly dance, performed by the maidens to win the hearts of the Malay royalty.”

 

“I find it a delightful opportunity to learn it someday,” said Eleanor.  “My compliments go to your vibrant civilisation, Melor.”

 

“Thank you, Eleanor,” responded Melor.  “It is most honoured take pride in one’s own culture and having the others to appreciate it.  In fact, if you are truly determined, I shall do the honour of teaching you the dance.”

 

“That is a commendable opinion, and I am delight to have you teaching me the dance one of these days, Melor,” Eleanor said.

 

“Melor, mari sini. Saya ingin pesan secawan teh (Melor, come here.  I would like a cup of tea please).”

 

Melor turned around, saw Megat and went to him. 

 

“Eh, bila masa awak tukar baju?  Tadi awak pakai baju kot, bukan (Eh, when did you change your clothes?  You were wearing a coat before, weren’t you)?” asked Melor, was looking rather confused at Megat.

 

She had just remembered that Niall was wearing a coat and she thought he was Megat all along. 

 

“Tidaklah.  Saya memang sudah sehari pakai baju teluk belanga (No.  I have been wearing my Malay costume all day),” Megat confirmed. 

 

“Benarkah (Really)?” Melor asked, as an assurance. 

 

“Ya, benar Melor (Yes, true Melor),” Megat replied with his certainty. 

 

“Bukankah awak sudah pesan secawan teh tadi (Didn’t you order a cup of tea before)?” Melor asked about his tea order. 

 

“Belumlah (I have not),” Megat replied with a frank denial. 

 

“Betul ke (Really)?”Melor asked for assurance.

 

“Ya, betul.  Saya belum lagi pesan secawan teh sebelum ini (Yes, it’s true.  I haven’t ordered a cup of tea before this),” responded Megat with affirmation. 

 

Melor took his order, “Baiklah, Niall (Alright, Niall).” 

 

Megat addressed himself, “Saya Megatlah, bukan Niall (I am Megat, not Niall).” 

 

Melor sighed, as she was tired of what she perceived to be a childish game of his.

 

“Yalah, Megat.  Sebentar lagi saya akan kembali (Alright, Megat.  I shall be back soon),” Melor told him.  She then walked back to his table with a teapot and poured him some tea into his cup. 

 

“Terima kasih, Melor (Thank you, Melor),” said Megat.

 

“Sama-sama, Megat (You are welcome, Megat),” replied Melor, as she placed the teapot on the table.   

 

“The tea is superb, Melor,” Niall remarked.  “I must conclude that you Malays are great tea makers.  In the meantime, there is someone I would like you to meet at the other table.  That young man is waving at us.” 

 

Niall smiled sinisterly whilst pointing at something in front of him and it was behind Melor. 

 

Megat said, “Apa khabar, Melor?  Sayalah Megat, bukan Encik Niall Gallagher.  Awak kenal saya? (How are you, Melor?  I am Megat, not Mister Niall Gallagher.  Do you recognise me?)” 

 

Melor turned around and was surprised to see Megat greeting her.

 

“That was the Megat chap you were talking about, were you not?” asked Niall cheekily.  “I trust that you recognise our differences now,”

 

A pale face struck upon Melor.  “Yes, I surely do…” She stood up shocked and fainted in a sudden.

 

Everyone who noticed the scene helped her up.  Mak Delima sprinkled some water on her face and asked in Malay, whether or not she was fine.  Melor simply replied saying she was fine.  Some people were made odd faces in disbelief to see two identical faces across the restaurant. 

 

There was a whistling sound.  Melor and Eleanor screamed and then turned around to see some men’s smirking faces.  The girls slapped them on their faces. 

 

“What gorgeous ladies we have here!” said a Welsh accented man, holding onto Melor’s hand.

 

“I would very much appreciate a cessation to your despicable grudges.  We do not find it an amusing matter,” warned Melor, getting her lower arm off him. 

 

“Have the decency to show some respect!” said a tall and muscled Malay man.  “If you cannot behave like gentlemen, we appreciate if you gentlemen could just leave this place.” 

 

“Who are you to tell us to behave?” asked the arrogant Welshman. 

 

“I am Badang,” said the Malay man.  “I just want to say that if you are seeking for a brawl, this place is unfit for it, and, please have it elsewhere.”

 

“Do you wish to fight me?” asked the cowboy, standing closer to him.

 

“I do not wish to fight you,” said Badang.  “I am wishing for nothing but peace here.  If you hit me, you shall be charged with assault and the prison is where you may reside.  I wish to be left alone!”

 

“Dash your coward soul!” said the cowboy conceitedly, who then shoved Badang to the ground.

 

“Please cease this incompetence!” replied Badang, standing up and showing the palm of his right hand.  “I warn you that you may hurt yourself.”

 

As the attitude problem man was about to throw a punch, Badang grabbed his left wrist and pulled his arm to the back as self-defence.  The man felt constant pain running throughout his body and he was physically not in control.

 

“I have reminded you of its unworthiness.  I now declare a halt to this foolish act,” said Badang, who then let him go.

 

Other White men tried to bash Badang, but a small group of Malay boys blockaded them.  The resulting of self-defence against the aggression had caused the restaurant furniture to wreck.  Eleanor was not seen anywhere in the restaurant.  Some of the Britishmen were thrown to the wall, with skills that do not match the Malay kick boxers. 

 

Pak Ujang, Mak Delima, Megat, Demang, Tok Guru and Melor intended to stop the brawl, but no one cared to listen.  Even Niall, the policeman, was unable to stop the madness of the mob.  They all tried to block the two opposing sides but they were pushed aside.   

 

Soon, a gunshot was heard.  There was a young English lad with dark hair and grey eyes.  He was wearing a navy blue jacket and matching pair of trousers.  It was Darren Holloway.  He was holding a gun and pointed it to the ceiling. 

 

Next to him was an older man with dark hair from amongst the high society.  He was attiring himself in a dark brown jacket with a kilt design, dark brown trousers, white shirt and tie.  It was Sir James Holloway, the Mayor of Malmesbury. 

 

Eleanor stood next to Melor shortly after entering Kedai Makan.

 

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