Shum Deil made it all very solemn. He straightened his posture and looked at the principal, who in turn sat up straight in her chair as well. Then he said, “First Year Class E, science class, student Shum Deil. I hereby apologise for upsetting my teachers and uprooting the school’s peace. This past month, to make our class spirit and bond ever stronger, my classmates and I spent time together after classes ended. We played a harmless game of dexterity and luck without asking for permission from our teachers, using the school grounds in a disrespectful way… What we conducted as mere fun has turned into something serious.”
Permission for flying paper planes? Disrespectful conduct of… what?
Shum Deil made the whole thing sound like a terrible deal, like a serious violation of school regulations. Listening to him, one would think they assaulted people and encouraged others to do likewise, dealing out dangerous instruments. He made the innocent act of littering into an enormous mess.
“Although the school regulations don’t explicitly state what we did was a breach of sorts,” the boy continued, “We failed to listen to our teachers’ lessons about good behaviour and...”
“Shum Deil, you littered. That’s against school rules,” the director interrupted his satire, or, one could say, his well-acted recitation of a reflection paper.
“Teacher, I went down and collected every plane I cast,” Shum Deil said without batting an eyelid.
Among the attendant group, no one was sure what to say. Everyone looked a little doubtful at this not-so-hidden display of brazenness.
“Principal, excuse me for interrupting, but it’s already time for classes to start,” the physics teacher said with a small smile. Up to this point, he was but a mere idle observer enjoying the show. “The boy has flaunted enough of his intellect already. We ought to move on.”
It became difficult for the woman leading this institution to find words. Everyone waited for her to tell them what to do next. Shum Deil finally shut up; he wasn’t such an idiot as to not realise when to stop.
Listening to this dumbass, a twisted kind of appreciation seized Sae. So this is what they meant when they said Shum Deil was a bit unhinged, doing whatever he wanted.
Teacher Shem returned at the perfect time. He went straight to the principal’s side and opened his mouth, “About yesterday afternoon’s happenings... I think we should settle the punishment without the students’ presence. They should go to class.”
The principal nodded in tacit understanding. In the end, everyone seemed exhausted. She also did not want to drag this out anymore. Lengthy speeches could be made at any time, but without knowing the exact cause of things, it was tricky to punish the kids.
The principal signalled the Director of Academic Management to stop the students before leaving.
“Here,” the director said, giving out a paper each, pulling them from her directory. “This is a school report about what happened today and why this meeting was convened. Get it signed by a guardian and bring it back to your head teachers respectively.”
Sae reached for the notice letter, gave it a glance, and folded it in half. Beside him, Shum Deil folded it without a read.
“Very well. Your head teachers will notify you about the decision. You can go to class!” The Director of Academic Management did not spare them another look.
Outside of the teachers’ office, Deil got a call. Judging by how desolate the hallway was classes had already started.
Deil looked at the screen and was surprised to see LilMo written there. “I’m at school. You’re lucky I’m not sitting in class,” he said at once, “What is it?”
Little Mo replied something on the other end of the line, but Deil didn’t hear much of it. There was an awful amount of yelling in the background. He could make out someone shouting, “Get those cabbages off the road!”
“I crashed the moped. I’m sorry,” Little Mo repeated, probably for the second time. “Can you come here?”
Deil wasn’t sure what exactly he did next. He faintly remembered to thrust the paper into someone’s hand before running out of the school building without looking back. Good thing his bag was already slung over his chest.
He did not end the call even while running. Without taking his bike, he opted to hail a taxi on the main road outside the school gates. “Are you still at the wholesale market?” he asked. “I thought you said you could drive.”
“Mnm, I did,” Little Mo said, “I was on my way back when this truck cut in before me. Totally against traffic regulations or common sense. I skidded to the side to not get hit by a fucking truck and crashed your moped. The cabbages rolled all over the road. I’m still trying to herd them together. Fuck. Stop yelling, man!” Little Mo switched to shouting at the person who criticised the vegetable load which dropped everywhere on the road. “I won’t collect them sooner even if you yell! If you’re so enthusiastic, maybe help a bit; thanks!”
Deil had to hold the phone away from his ear.
“I’m still in the area,” Little Mo said after coming back on the line.
Deil instructed the taxi driver, “To the wholesale market at the community centre, please.” On the phone, he asked, “Did you get the driver?”
“Get the driver?” Little Mo did not know whether to laugh or cry. “He fucking drove away. I only called the recovery truck, then immediately called you. Don’t worry. I know the owner of the garage so they’ll come soon.”
“Okay,” Deil let out a breath. “If I go straight to the market, will I see you?”
At that, Little Mo really did laugh. “I’m quite hard to miss.”
The history teacher was unimpressed with Sae arriving late to class. Sae apologised for being late and got dismissed to take a seat. He barely sat down, squeezing in behind Kaikai when the boy turned on him. The teacher may have let Sae off, but his deskmate could not leave it at that.
“Where were you?” Kaikai tried to suppress his voice. “Slept in?” He took the rolled up notice from Sae’s hand, the one belonging to Shum Deil. “What’s this?”
When they left the principal’s office, an outrageous ringtone went off in the hallway. Shum Deil answered a phone call, pushed the notice into Sae’s arm and ran off. Sae stood there for a brief minute staring at the rolled sheet of paper in his hands. Should he have trashed them? For what reason did Shum Deil give them out?
“Notice of hearing with the principal,” Kaikai read aloud.
Hearing this, Teo turned back, swift as the wind, and snatched the notice from Kaikai’s hand. “Discussion of disciplinary actions... blah, blah.” Teo looked at Sae, body tilted off-centre, half twisted back. He shifted to sit sideways so as to not be too disrespectful. “Did you get in a fight?”
“Technically,” replied Sae.
“Technically? How do you do that?” Minke joined in on the questioning. She turned to Teo, a little lost. “How does he do that?”
Teo shrugged. “Must’ve K.O’d someone.”
“I did not K.O. anyone. Who says that anyway?” Sae shook his head. Teo had been his closest friend since they were five, but he sometimes said the weirdest things. When would Sae have the time to knock people out?
Teo read a bit further, then suddenly said, “Shit, is this about Shum Deil?”
Since Teo was one of the limited people who Emi confided in regarding Sae’s junior high accident, he knew about as much of the dealings of Shum Deil as the little girl did. They gossiped behind Sae’s back on a regular basis. Now it dawned on Teo that these things could be connected.
Sae’s features hardened, “What?” He snatched the notice back. “Give me that.”
At the front of the room, the history teacher cleared his throat. Kaikai pushed Teo’s shoulder, urging him to face the front. He grabbed the papers from Teo’s hand.
“Here,” Kaikai put the notice before Sae on the desk, smoothing it out.
Sae stopped his hand. “Don’t do that. It’s already like this. It doesn’t matter.” He rolled up the notice and put it inside the desk’s drawer.
One side of the moped was a wreck. After Deil talked things over with Little Mo, the boy explained how he skidded over the road, barely escaping death. His denim jacket was torn, and blood smeared his arm from the elbow to the back of his hand.
When Deil arrived, he saw Little Mo collecting cabbages, occasionally shouting back at rude people’s loud comments. There was a bruise on his chin and blood on his neck, but he still went to lift another cabbage into the wooden crate. The crates were no longer secured to the backseat of the overturned vehicle but rested on the asphalt at the side of the road.
Not long after Deil arrived, the car rescue came as well. True to his word, Little Mo knew the owner, so Deil only had to give the initial payment for towing the moped away. The young man the owner assigned to come and manage the pickup said his boss gave out the task to work on this job without delay, foregoing the process of price estimation and client’s approval.
“He’ll give you a big discount. You don’t have to worry about the price. Nowhere in the city would it be this cheap,” Little Mo said after they sent the guy back. He let out a weary sigh, scratching the back of his head. The road was like the scene of a bad murder. “Ah, there’s still more.”
Deil stopped him from moving again. “Is your arm okay?”
“Huh? Yeah, it doesn’t hurt much. Listen… I’ll pay for the repair.”
“It’s not like you crashed it on purpose.” Deil crouched down to pick up a cabbage that rolled away next to the side of the lane. He put it in the upper crate and stopped to look around. “Are there any traffic cams around here?”
“Not that I know of.” Little Mo just realised his chin got scraped. He rubbed the blood from his throat with the back of his uninjured hand and sighed. “I tried looking around. No luck. Fuck, the fucker’s got away!”
Deil squeezed Little Mo’s neck from the back. “It’s okay. Let’s collect these first.”
Little Mo squatted at that spot until he was less wired from anger. “Don’t tell my granny about this, yeah?”
“Mnm,” Deil agreed. “We can go to a convenience store to clean you up. Your grandma would be horrified to see the state you’re currently in.”
Little Mo swept an arm in the direction of the crates. “How are we going to carry all this?”
“I’ll call a taxi, don’t sweat it.” Deil’s chest felt a bit stuffy as well, but he would rather busy himself with things to do than sit down and do nothing. If that truck man had still been here, he would punch him without question. But it was useless to vent his anger on Little Mo who suffered damages himself.
They collected all the cabbages that could be saved. They called for a cab and loaded the crates onto the backseat next to Little Mo. Deil sat at the front, instructing the driver to a nearby convenience store.
The two got out, and he treated the driver to a coffee while the man waited for them. First, they had to buy the wasted cabbages, so Little Mo’s granny wouldn’t notice their absence.
Ten minutes later they were on the way to Little Mo’s house. At this time of the day, only Little Mo’s granny, an elderly lady well in her seventies, was home. Deil changed his jacket to the torn denim one, so Little Mo looked as presentable as ever.
They carried the crates up to the third floor by hand. Although Little Mo said his elbow was okay, his arm was a bit stiff, and it trembled slightly from the strain. Previously, Deil watched him treat his wounds. From the outside, no swelling could be seen. Before they stepped out of the lift, Deil took over another crate, so Little Mo’s pale face could relax some.
At their knocking, Granny opened the door. “Sinan! What took you so long? I almost thought you went off to become a cabbage seller, making a profit off of my cabbages.” The elderly lady noticed Deil. “Your friend?”
“Hello, Granny,” greeted Deil. His face was in a slight grimace that the lady could take as him trying to smile.
“Come in, come in. Put the crates down. Sinan, why did you let your friend carry all that? All you’ve got is one part of the cabbages.” Granny turned around. “Come to the kitchen and have a drink. Why isn’t your friend in school? Does he not go? Classes have already started...”
Little Mo threw the crate down and went to follow his grandmother. He put his hands on the lady’s shoulders. “Granny, why act like this? He’s Deil. Shum Deil, you know him! He ate here in the spring.”
“I know,” his granny said, “But he still needs to go to school. Otherwise, how will he learn?”
“You don’t have to worry about that. Deil is the smartest person I know.”
Deil trailed after the two, listening to their chatter. Since he had already been here once, he remembered the layout of the place. He could come and go without Little Mo’s voice to lead him.
In the kitchen, Little Mo sat his granny down. He pulled three glasses from the cabinet and filled them with tea. Deil took one and downed half of it in one go. “Thanks.”
Little Mo nodded and put the third glass in front of his granny. He squatted beside her and smiled.
The elderly woman touched her grandson’s face. “What happened to you?”
Little Mo moved back. “It’s nothing. Have you eaten? I can still make you something before I go to school. What would you like?”
In reply, his grandma smacked Little Mo’s shoulder, “You brat. How do you have time to make anything? You should be at school already! Look at your brother, going out every morning. He’s always on time.”
“Granny, you do know he’s not going to school, right?”
“You,” Little Mo’s grandma sprang up to swat at him again. “Offering to bring the cabbages. It was all a ruse to miss classes!”
“Granny, no. Slow down. Aow, that hurt. Why, why do you need the broom?” Little Mo tried to jump aside. “Deil, run!”
Deil needn’t hear it twice. He put the glass down, said, “Thank you for the drink, Granny. It was nice seeing you,” and made for the door in one fell swoop.
Little Mo got chased out of the house by his grandmother after only three of her moves. “Sinan, come back here!” She called after him, “You left your bag behind!”
The boys were already at the door.
“Oh. Wait for me,” Little Mo said to Deil and went back for his bag.
A few minutes later, he came out with two foil-wrapped buns, one in each hand. “Granny told me we should eat before learning.” He smiled and reached one out to Deil. “Here.”
