Below is the 2nd draft - the revised version of my short story for summative assessment:
Name: Shaun Wong (29)
Class: 2O4
Date: 23 January 2011
A Singaporean Short Story – Becoming
“Hey Kumar! Pass the ball over! Quickly!” I exclaimed. I steadied myself as I was preparing to receive the soccer ball, and as soon as I got it, I dribbled my way pass my two other friends from the opponent’s team. Then opportunity presented itself, my opportunity. The goal post was just metres away from me, and the only thing between us was the goal keeper. “The goal keeper,” I whispered to myself. “You’re not going to stop me this time!” I felt adrenaline rush through my veins as I took my aim and prepared to score the ball. When I felt I was ready, I summoned all my strength and kicked. Realisation soon dawned on me when moments later I heard a scream, followed by cries of surprise coming from all around me. “Ahhhhh! My leg!” Luke cried out in pain. He had tried to tackle me just before I kicked the ball and unfortunately coincidental, I had kicked him instead.
Name: Shaun Wong (29)
Class: 2O4
Date: 23 January 2011
A Singaporean Short Story – Becoming
“Hey Kumar! Pass the ball over! Quickly!” I exclaimed. I steadied myself as I was preparing to receive the soccer ball, and as soon as I got it, I dribbled my way pass my two other friends from the opponent’s team. Then opportunity presented itself, my opportunity. The goal post was just metres away from me, and the only thing between us was the goal keeper. “The goal keeper,” I whispered to myself. “You’re not going to stop me this time!” I felt adrenaline rush through my veins as I took my aim and prepared to score the ball. When I felt I was ready, I summoned all my strength and kicked. Realisation soon dawned on me when moments later I heard a scream, followed by cries of surprise coming from all around me. “Ahhhhh! My leg!” Luke cried out in pain. He had tried to tackle me just before I kicked the ball and unfortunately coincidental, I had kicked him instead.
The rest of my friends and I lifted Luke up and carried him to the yi shen (doctor). As we arrived at the public clinic, we were dismayed by the sight that greeted us. Crowds and crowds, rows and rows, men and women both waiting for their turn to be examined by the yi shen. Some were patient enough, and still stood in queue, while others tried to squeeze through the unorderly mob, but to no avail, and yet our dear friend Luke was still suffering in pain while these people were oblivious to that fact. “It’s okay guys. Just carry me home and let me rest, I think i’ll manage. No hard feelings about today!” Luke said, bearing his teeth and barely managing a smile as he did so. At that moment I felt guilt, but decided not to dwell on it, but took joy in knowing that I had such a great brotherhood, and carried my ‘brother’, Luke, home.
“Why can’t you be more sensible? Your Pa (father) is out there risking his life for the country and his son goes about kicking other people’s sons? Why can’t you just understand?” my mother screamed at the top of her voice. I could tell from her eyes the anger and disappointment. “No Ma (mother), it was an accident, I swear!” I tried to reason with her, that it was not my fault. She shook her head, let out a sigh, and walked off, leaving me feeling wronged and accused. I treaded back to my room, with my head lower than ever before. Then I saw a picture of my Pa and me, and I could not hold back my tears anymore. My father was a soldier in the Malay Regiment, and all I was, was just a little boy who causes nothing but pain and suffering to my family and friends. He was always upright and held his head high; patriotic unlike any other men I had ever seen before. He was a perfect image to me, and I have always wanted to become like him, but here I am, with no accomplishments or potential whatsoever.
This was how I went on for the rest of my days, and would have so if not for the coming of the Japanese. The arrival of the Japanese on the shores of Temasek had forever changed my life. A week before their arrival, my Pa was still with us. He had told us that he had to go protect this country, and that he will come back to us after the war was over. I was not a single bit worried for him, knowing that being the perfect man; nothing could stop him from doing the right thing. My Ma however, was crying her heart out, begging my Pa not to go, but I simply could not understand why. “It’s okay Ma, Pa will surely come back! I will take care of you while he is gone!” I consoled my Ma, or at least tried to.
“I won’t be too sure about that, but thank you.” My Ma replied in between sobs. At that point of time, my heart skipped a beat. When I heard my Ma, and saw her tears, I actually believed that she was telling the truth. I wiped that thought out of my head, and decided to have faith in my Pa.
The Japanese were ruthless, not caring a single bit about the people of Temasek. Yes, the worst of my nightmares had come true, the Japanese had conquered us. Their soldiers were set free to pillage and burn, leaving the locals to their own fate. Then the front door of our house fell. “Hands up, don’t move!” A Japanese soldier commanded in English, with a Japanese accent. This was it. It was time to prove that I was like my father, that I could protect my own family. I charged towards the Japanese with a pair of wooden chopsticks and stuck it in his eyes. Then before I could flee, I felt a sting of pain on the side of my head, and darkness overwhelmed my sight.
“Ugh, my head...” I lamented to myself. As I slowly cleared my head, I spotted my Ma crying at the corner of the house, naked and full of bruises. “No...no!” I screamed in denial. Tears cascaded down my cheeks with each passing step towards my Ma. I stood beside her, and she handed me a crushed up letter. All my fears rushed to my head, but I mustered all courage and opened the letter. Then my fears came true, it was a letter of condolences, a letter of condolences to my dead Pa. Grief overwhelmed me, and so did anger. It was at that moment that I told myself to never let such a thing happen to my Ma again, it was that moment when I decided to become like my Pa, my father, a true Singaporean.
Hey, Shaun.
ReplyDeleteI have to say, very good idea for a Singaporean short story. I like how you decided to put yourself in the shoes of a civilian during World War II. Oh, and I spotted a few minor mistakes in grammar, maybe a bit of spelling here and there, but none were too big an issue. The description on the protagonist's father was done exceedingly well. One could certainly feel how much his father meant to him, and also his pain of not being able to live up to his achievements. However, I felt that the transition from the 1st to 2nd paragraph was too quick, and not enough detail on the yi sheng. You should think about describing the setting more in detail, as I'm sure the clinics and doctors then were very different from the ones today, in both procedure and appearance.
I think it would be great if you included a conversation between the father and son, as I would like have a glimpse into his father's personality: whether he is an arrogant blowhard, or a noble and humble soldier. It could provide a little insight into their relationship.
Also, the Japanese soldier part was too rushed as well. Could you elaborate more on his disappearance?
Lastly, I didn't quite get the last paragraph. I didn't understand the "letter of condolences" part, but maybe that's just because I don't know its definition or meaning. But why I didn't get the paragraph, was mainly because of the Singaporean part. What does it mean to be a true Singaporean? I also feel that you could do with a lot of elaboration on his mother, as that is an opportunity to describe her abuse vividly, and also to mention how strong the impact was on her child, so strong as to affect him for the rest of his life.
Thanks for your time. Just my opinion, by the way. :)
Adlan
Shaun, you do a nice job here vividly conveying the atmosphere of Singapore during wartime, and your writing here is, as usual, clear and evocative. I also appreciate your decision to write about Singapore's past, although you have to be especially careful about your details, as anyone can always compare them to the historical record.
ReplyDeleteWas football even played in Singapore in the 1940s? Would kids during that time have been playing football, or something else like cricket instead? Were people still referring to Singapore as Temasek at that point? Is the narrator Malay? If so, I don't really get any indication of that here; you need to show this through specific details and his relationship with his mother.
The strongest section of your story is the beginning up until he gets yelled at by his mother; after this part, the rest is mostly told in summary, and the emotional punch is taken away. Rather than looking at the incongruity of a Japanese soldier delivering a condolence letter, and getting his eyes poked out for his trouble (which would not have happened; he would have shot the narrator before the chopsticks even got close), I'd like you to focus on what is more emotionally fulfilling here.
Here's my suggestion for revision: Keep the first three paragraphs pretty much as they are (though you should fix the historical details and any other careless errors), then continue the scene with the narrator coming out of his room and seeing his mother crying in the kitchen, with the condolence letter clutched in her hand (having been delivered earlier). That way, we get a logical reason for why she blew up so violently at her son, and an emotionally resonant echo of the earlier scene of the narrator carrying his friend off the field of "battle" and to the hospital.
Make these changes and I think you could have a really great story here.