One Hundred Days by Alice Pung

Author:Alice Pung
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Schwartz Books Pty. Ltd.

Chapter 10

“My dawtah, she too big now,” your Grand Mar told Mrs Osman the next day. “She can’t work at the front. Wash hair, she can fall. Sweep floor, she can slip. And your customers, they see her from the window and it not look good.”

“But the customers love her!”

“Maybe she can be in waxing room. She can learn new skill.”

Outrage! I didn’t want to be exiled to the back, where it was windowless and dark, stirring Mrs Osman’s rank toffee, a bumbling worker bee making honey for the two queens out front.

“I’m just protecting you from all the dangerous chemicals,” your Grand Mar hissed in our language. “Do you want the baby to be retarded?”

“You don’t care about whether there are chemicals or not, otherwise I wouldn’t be working here,” I spat back. “You’re just embarrassed, and worried that one of your friends might come in and see me.”

“Damn right I’m ashamed!” she said. “You are a disgrace. Why do you think Mrs Osman makes you wear the black apron? You dress like a dirty old man, and your expression could kill a horse.”

“I’m not spending my days yanking hair off women’s legs and backs. That’s gross. Why can’t they just use a razor?”

“You’re not going to be doing any waxing,” your Grand Mar determined. “I don’t want your eyeballs filled to the brim with other people’s disgusting hairy parts – the baby will end up as furry as a monkey. I’ll do the waxing, and we’ll just tell Mrs Osman that you’re learning.”

“Yeah, a really, really slow learner.”

Your Grand Mar warned me that if I kept on with the ugly attitude, my baby would be born with birthmarks.

By now, the popcorn feeling inside my tummy had disappeared, and I felt like I had a goldfish swimming around in there.

Because the waxing “room” was only separated from the salon by a thin pink curtain, I could still hear your Grand Mar and Mrs Osman talking, every word.

“She lucky to have her mother here when baby comes,” your Grand Mar told Mrs Osman. “I have no help when I have her. Her father’s mother – useless! I have to look after her as well as Karuna.”

“How sad,” sighed Mrs Osman.

“And I lost most my teeth.”

“How? Your husband hit you?”

“No, no. When I was pregnant I didn’t drink much cow’s milk, that’s all.” She hadn’t yet got used to the taste. After I arrived, each one of her teeth started to wobble. A few weeks later, she could twist them like screws, and they popped out one by one in her hand. I had leached all her calcium, and probably made her the brittle person she was now.

*

“Look what I have for you!”

Your Grand Mar proudly handed me a warm egg, larger than a chicken’s.

“What kind of egg is this, Mah?” I asked, peeling the top of the shell off.

“Balut. Good for helping the baby grow.”

When I plunged my spoon in, something wet and warm and non-yolky leaked onto my finger. Jabbing the spoon in deeper, I gazed down and thought the egg was all grey and rotten.

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