July 19, 2006

bitter memories : the great escape (part II)

[continue from here]

The long walk home with PukeMachine. We skipped school to avoid the scheduled disciplinary trial for the calculator heist I never committed. It was a day of dread that was somehow turned into an exciting adventure… thanks to the ingenuity of yours truly.

We must had walked for an hour or more. We were both thirsty and perspiring profusely from the thick sweltering humid plod alongside the burning tarmac. It all started to look like a big mistake then. Like, what’s a whip of a cane or two compared to this? Man, does this worth the blisters that I’m gonna get from all these walkings? – I thought. The journey gradually developed into a quiet business as we lugged along our 9 year old asses in a marathon of desperation to cheat fate.

Halfway through our journey, we came across a creek that ran through my school bus’ route home (we were following that route to go home). Of all my kid life inside that school bus, I had always wanted to swim inside the creek for a long time, but never got the chance. And that day, I spotted the opportunity to do it, and without thinking much, I jumped into the creek. I didn’t bother about my uniform. Just jumped. I was soaked from head to toe in that yellowish murky water, and continued to swim about inside it, totally ignoring PukeMachine who was totally stunned with what I just did.

Not long after that, he joined in. I was too busy enjoying myself, and I didn’t quite notice him soaking himself into the water. Or did he? I don’t remember. But he was around alright. Probably just sloshing the surface of the creek with his doughy feet, but that was not important to me. The most important thing for me that day, was to have lots of fun, to forget all about the troubles at school.

After dicking some dogs for a while, we moved on. We still had a long way to go after that creek pitstop. Another 3 – 4 clicks. It took us another hour and a half to reach my final destination (PukeMachine’s half journey stop) – my home. Didn’t really feel like an hour and a half, it felt like forever. I had blisters on my feet that day (from the wet creek water) and I smelled like an eel with hygiene problem.

The sight of my apartment foyer couldn’t have been sweeter. I did not even have the capacity to think about PukeMachine, for I was too exhausted to be thankful for his company. So I didn’t plan to say much. Just before I slither myself up to my apartment, I turned around to bid my partner-in-crime a wave of farewell, and hoofed the final few meters to eternal bliss.

But I didn’t make it for more than 10 feet, for I was startled by a loud shriek from behind me. More or less sounded like a fowl who learned that it was about to go through an ancient throat slitting ritual. “Wheeeekkkk!!!! Wheeeekk!!!!”. It was unmistakenly PukeMachine’s voice. He was in trouble. I frantically turned around to check him out, and saw him with an Oh-My-Fucking-God look and acting all alarmed like he had lost his mind.

I stormed over.
[to be continued here]

michaelooi  | escapades  | 

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