Satiated

There are some days when I think I'm going to die from an overdose of satisfaction. ~Salvador Dali

It was another long but satisfied day with the kids.

Before noon, I had reached the school to help out once again for Angel’s performance at night. The rest of the day was spent holing up in the music room tying the dancers’ hair and applying makeup for them. The hours were long but it was stress-free as the students arrived in batches.

However, as I had to stay in the premise to wait for the kids, I had missed the opportunity to visit my favourite bubble tea store for my last cup of sour plum green tea! Now that I won’t have the chance anymore, as the shop has ceased operation as of yesterday, I’ll have to settle on wallowing in the sweet and sour taste in my mind from now on.

Besides that only blemish, the rest of the day breezed through. Rachel dropped by briefly in the afternoon before her Higher Mother Tongue lesson and chatted up with me. She’d decided to miss the performance at night and proceed to her granny’s place by herself later in the afternoon. I had no objection. Whatever her decision, I have full trust and confidence in her.

I was greeted by two ecstatic children by the end of the day. Angel and Mervin were busily announcing and comparing the presents they had gotten from their teachers for Children’s day.

“See, my teacher gave me this sweet!” exclaimed a proud Mervin.

“I have that too! Look, my teacher gave me this too,” beamed Angel.

“And look at this, and this and this… So many teachers gave me presents!” Mervin babbled on.

“Ya lor! Mdm Roselinda passed me these two presents just now… Only I have! The rest of my class didn’t get! One is from Mdm Lee and the other… Oops… I forgot…” Angel was trying hard to juggle all the gift packs in her tiny grasp as she rattled on.

“Aiya! That one I have too! It’s from Miss Lim,” Mervin chimed in, “My Chinese teacher also gave me something.”

“I also have…” Angel retorted.

And it just went on and on and on. Even the simple argument sounded like music to my ears. All I could see were the contented looks on their face.

As the time reached six, we were all ushered into a school bus which took us to a nearby club where the concert was held.

I left Mervin in the charge of a teacher and joined Angel and her fellow dancers at the back stage. A few touching ups and the girls and a boy were all ready for their final showdown.

Just as everything was in place, we were notified at the very last minute that the “Face-Changing” master from Hunan of China had unexpectedly reached earlier than his schedule and had put on all his “makeup”, which I assumed were the masks of his face. He had requested that his performance, which was supposed to be the eighth item of the night’s program, be advanced to the second, which was our dance item, as he was having “difficulty in breathing”.

Being the usual good Samaritans, the teachers-in-charge obliged. We, the parents, had no qualms about it either, not to mention the kids, who were too excited to notice what’s going on anyway.

Just as we were gladly thinking that we had done a good deed, it happened. The “Face-Changing” show ended with the master blowing flames from his mouth. He did that by blowing sprays of kerosene onto the flames of the torches he was carrying in his hands. Just as we were amazed by his performance, we were more astounded by what followed.

The person in charge informed our teacher-in-charge to have the floor cleaned after the show to prepare for the kids’ dance.

For that instant, we could only stare at one another, mouth agape, about the unexpected turn of things. The moment the master left the stage, there wasn’t time to lose. I really admire the courage and competence of the teachers, who promptly rushed onto the stage with whatever paper tissues or napkins they could get their hand on to soak up any splatter they could find on the stage. To desert their modesty and go on all fours right before the naked eyes of the hundreds of audience, they really deserve an award of bravery and commitment. I, on the other hand, could only cower at a side and offer my meager packet of tissue papers to the heroes and heroines of the day.

I almost held my breath throughout the dance. Not only because of the pungent stench left by the kerosene, but also for the safety of the kids. I uttered a little player for the kids and kept my fingers crossed for the next five minutes. My heart only managed to slide down my throat when the kids descended the stage.

The stage was too small. There were no curtains. There were a few mistakes here and there. But none of those mattered to the kids. The smiles on their faces said it all. Feeding on their excited giggles and enthusiastic chatters left me bloated with glee.

The play that was put up by the school was another thing worth mentioning. The little girl’s acting was so touching that I was nearly moved to tears. As she was reciting on how she hated her father for leaving her to celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival all alone due to his work, something tugged at my heart. Somehow, it made me think of what the kids’ father was doing to the kids, although his reason wasn’t as noble as the little actress’ father. How ironic.

The rest of the night’s program was a spectacular presentation by an acrobatic group from China. After that, the kids had the chance to carry their lanterns and take a little trip around the club. There were a few breathtaking views and Mervin was impressed by the snooker area and the arcade room. He even managed to spot the arcade room from behind stacks of floats by the pool. That was what I called “Fatal Attraction”.

The kids had had a long, tiring but enjoyable day. Even as their eyelids were drooping, it didn’t stop them from recounting what they had seen and heard and done. By the time we reached home, it was nearly eleven. Mervin had a quick shower and went directly to bed. Within seconds, he was snoring in his deep slumber. I helped Angel to remove her makeup, untie her hair, take off her costume, wash her gel-laden hair, and shower for her. She hit the pillow after half-past eleven and drifted into dreamland immediately.

I walked out of my bedroom and ogled at the pile of dishes in my sink, stack of clothes in my hamper, bags of miscellaneous stuffs on the table, Kristel’s little puddles on the papers and one on the floor…

I bravely strutted forward to clean up the mess on the floor and changed the papers. As I stood up and confronted the other catastrophes that followed, I did the one and only logical thing that crossed my mind.

I fled.