The boys climbed up the stairs to the second storey, turned left and filed past the corridor to the end of the block where Yisheng was staying. Yisheng grimaced as he looked at the pair of shoes on the steps in front of his flat.

“My old man’s in.”

As the door opened, they saw Yisheng’s father squatting in front of the TV set, next to the entrance to the flat. He was fidgeting with the controls to Yisheng’s Nintendo set. They saw that he was playing the game, Super Mario Brothers, on the TV screen.

“Uncle,” said the two boys in unison.

“Mmhh. Ah Simon, you are here. Come, join me in the game. It’s not much fun playing alone,” said Mr Seow.

He was a gruff man with unkempt hair; his complexion had darkened through exposure to the sun. Mr Seow, when he wanted to work – or more accurately, when he was in the mood to work – was an odd-jobs labourer. Most of the time, he would do painting of the exteriors of buildings. That’s why he was dark-complexioned. Yisheng, on the other hand, was as fair as his mother. In fact, Yisheng had once told the other two boys that he could never become dark. He had said, to the amusement of his two pals, he inherited his fair skin from his mother.

The two boys were regular guests in the house, so they needed no help at all once they were in the house. They made themselves at home immediately. Yisheng, still in his uniform, went into the kitchen to cook Maggi instant mee (noodles). He opened three packets – enough for the three of them. They had not eaten since recess and were famished. As he boiled the noodles, he broke three eggs and emptied their contents into the pot of mee. Next, he added the seasoning which came in little packets with the mee. He stirred the mee and shook some pepper into it. When the mee was cooked, he dished it into three bowls, making sure the portions were equal.

It was the cheapest meal available, and he could prepare it anytime of the day or night. And it only took two minutes of cooking time. Yisheng had become quite an expert at cooking instant mee. You could say he had grown up on instant noodles. He had had countless bowls of these noodles since primary school when he was left all alone in the flat. His father, who was around in the house some of the time, never once bothered to cook for him. Neither did he buy food up to the house for him. So, Yisheng had to fend for himself all these years while Mother was away at work. Which was perhaps why he never once asked his father for his opinion about anything. But, Mr Seow was his father, after all. He had to accord him with the due respect that a son should accord a father. Other than that, Yisheng felt, he did not owe his father a single thing.

As he took a bowl of mee from Yisheng, Kelvin pointed in the direction of Yisheng’s father and his eyes looked enquiringly at Yisheng.

“Forget about my father,” Yisheng’s eyes seemed to say in reply. Yisheng had not prepared an extra bowl of mee for his father.

“Go ahead, eat it while it’s hot,” said Yisheng to Kelvin.

Both boys ate in silence as they watched Simon and Mr Seow jabbing their fingers at the controls in their hands. The three boys spent the afternoon taking turns to play the game. Then, they switched to Street Fighter. That was how boys in the 80s spent their time – Street Fighter and the Super Mario Brothers were the craze those days. Parents would fork out some $500 for a Nintendo game set, which would come with two free game cassettes. If purchased alone, each cassette cost some $100. Yisheng’s mother had bought the Nintendo set for him last year on his fourteenth birthday, after he had nagged her continually for several months, at first dropping hints here and there, and later begging for it directly when the hints were ignored. In fact, if you stop and think, you would know that it was Yisheng’s mother who had given him the things he wanted. His father, as far back as Yisheng could recall, had never spent a single cent on him. But, he still had to call him Father, anyway. But, respect him? Never in his life! This whole process would go on churning in Yisheng’s mind repeatedly.

Yisheng’s father left the boys to themselves at about five o’clock. He said he had some business to attend to. The boys lost track of time as they immersed themselves in the game. Then the phone rang.

“ET, answer for me, will you?” said Yisheng, who was playing against Simon.

“It’s Siew Ling.”

“Ask her what she wants.”

“She says she wants to come over to your place tonight at 8pm.”

“Tell her I won’t be free.”

“You tell her yourself,” retorted Kelvin. Apparently, Siew Ling was angry that Yisheng would not come to the phone and had vented her anger on him.

“Just put down the phone.”

“Hah? Just like that?” his eyes looked inquiringly at Yisheng. Getting no further response from him, Kelvin replaced the receiver and sat down next to him.

“You two hah husband-and-wife team should keep your squabbles to yourselves and not get others involved.”

“ET. I don’t want to have anything to do with her.”

“But, Yisheng, you are a pair made in heaven. One so handsome and the other - waah - so beautiful. And you say you don’t want her? You must be crazy!”

“How to want her? You know my background. I can’t offer her anything. But Jarren can. His family runs a provision shop and his father has a car. He can give her a better life than me.”

“Why do you look down on yourself?

“ET, I agree with Yisheng,” Simon chipped in.

“If I were Yisheng, I would do the same thing. You know we come from broken homes..”

“Speak for yourself,” Kelvin interjected, “You may come from a broken home, but not me. My parents are loving and they take good care of me.”

“Aiyah, you two shut up. I want to concentrate on my game and I can’t do so with all this noise.”

“Same here,” volunteered Simon.

“You two carry on. I’m going home,” said Kelvin as he slung his bag and stepped out of the flat.

“ET, why are you like that?”

“ET.. Come back.”

But Kelvin was already out of earshot.

“He’s very petty.”

“You know he’s like that and you purposely add fire.”

“Aiyah!. He will be okay afterwards. He’s always like this.”

“I am not playing anymore. I’m bathing. Can I use your towel?”

“Sure thing. Let’s bathe together. We have got to be at the coffeshop at 7 o’clock tonight.”

As members of the neighbourhood Ang Soon Thong gang, it was their duty to watch the coffeeshop at Block 230, a four-storey block of flats with shop units on the ground floor. The coffeeshop was situated next to Block 228, which was a block away from where Yisheng stayed. Simon stayed two blocks away, in Block 231, in a four-room flat. Kelvin stayed furthest from the coffeeshop, his block just across the road from the school gate. The three boys were part of a ten-member group in charge of affairs at the area surrounding the coffeeshop. They were supposed to keep rival gang members out of the place. If they were to see any such people, they were supposed to call up the rest of the gang for help to throw the chaps out of the place. At least, that was how it was supposed to work anyway.

But, in practice, the boys merely sat at a round table in the five-foot-way at the far corner of the coffeeshop and engaged in chit-chat. They were gang members in name only. Schoolmates who lived in the immediate surroundings would gather at the coffeeshop after dark and they would pass the time smoking away and rambling about their exploits. There were no true gangs in Singapore in the 80s. The real gangsters had been exterminated, or put away behind bars in Changi Prison. What were left were only loose groups perpetuated by unruly teenagers from neighbourhood schools who were bent on getting a name for themselves, and this they did by tagging themselves as gangsters and going around harassing fellow students.

By virtue of their built and the size of their membership, they could more or less control other teenagers at school. But, it was pulling wool over people’s eyes to describe them as gangsters. They were anything, but gangsters. These teens were delighted to belong to a gang as they could use its backing when they got into trouble with other teenagers.

David saw Yisheng and Simon sitting at their regular meeting spot at a table. He came over to say hello. David was 16 years old, a student of Naval Base Secondary School. For his age, he looked very mature. It was this look that helped him to get into pubs during the weekends. He asked the two boys to join him at American Corner that Saturday night.

“You sure we can go in?” asked Yisheng.

“Trust me. I know the bouncer. No problem at all lah.” Said David. With that statement, he headed home, to the block just behind the coffeeshop.

“Remember to come,” he shouted as he moved out of sight.

“Uncle. A packet of Marboro, please,” said Yisheng to the coffeeshop assistant who was cleaning the table next to theirs.

“My father took my packet of Marlboro just now,” Yisheng explained.

“Where’s ET? He’s still not here.”

“I guess he’s still upset. He’s always like that.”

The boys called for a big plate of fried rice and shared the food. They were hungry and it was their only meal of the Chinese staple, rice, for the day. As they were tucking in the food, Tommy came up to them, drew a stool and sat down. Stretching both arms wide above his body, he managed a yawn.

“Seen Min Liang lately?”

“Nup!”

“The idiot. He owes me $10 and he’s hiding from me. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Who asked you to lend him the money. You know he’s famous for not returning what he owes and yet you lend money to him. You deserve it, lor”

“Don’t say things like that, Simon. Come on. He asked me for the money in front of so many girls, I just couldn’t refuse.”

“Girls will be the death of you,” said Yisheng.

“Wa! You part with your hard-earned money because of your ego, hah?” Simon just couldn’t believe his ears.

“What can I do? You know I want to look good in front of these damsels. That’s my character. I can’t change my character, can I?

“If you two see Min Liang, tell him I am looking for him. By the way, where’s ET?”

Kelvin was Tommy’s cousin. Their fathers were brothers. Tommy was now in secondary four this year. He was in the Normal Technical stream, and this year would be his last year in school. He was also a flirt. He had had so many girlfriends the boys had lost count.

“Are you still with Diana?” asked Simon.

“Ya. She sticks to me like glue.”

“I get the impression you don’t fancy her. But she treats you very well,” said Yisheng, “I’ve never seen any girl so devoted to a boy like she’s to you.”

“You’ll make a good pair,” said Simon, “At least, she will be able to change you out of your flirtatious ways, ha ha ha.”

“She’s the only one who can handle you,” said Yisheng gravely.

“Let’s not get deeper into this. Where are the others?”

“Don’t know.”

“Jing Yu is here. Hi.”

“Tommy! Glad to see you. Where’s your other half?”

“Don’t be like that lah. We have just met and you start teasing me.”

“You see, even Jing Yu agrees with us,” said Simon.

“Are you guys playing billiard on Saturday?” asked Jing Yu.

“At King’s?” asked Yisheng.

“Yes. Shall we meet there?” asked Jing Yu.

“How about Sunday?” suggested Yisheng, “We have got to go to Fire Disco this Saturday.”

“Ok lah. Can I join you on Saturday?” Jing Yu looked inquiringly at the faces around him as he spoke.

“How? Can or not?”

“Okay lah!” said Simon, “All five of us right?”

The four boys nodded their heads. They were sure Kelvin would tag along with them that Saturday.

Kelvin was back to his usual self the next morning at assembly. He had apparently forgotten about the little episode at Yisheng’s house the day before. He pushed his face next to Yisheng’s and flashed a broad smile.

“You guys going to Fire Disco or not?”

Yisheng and Simon nodded their heads. Simon was in front of Yisheng in the morning assembly and could not turn his head to look at the two, for fear of being caught by the vice-principal, who was now on the platform, giving those who had gathered for the assembly a stern look.

“Boys and girls. Today’s hair-check day for the upper secondary students. Mr Lee and Mrs Tay will be checking all the secondary threes, fours and fives now. Those who are singled out are to come out here and sit next to the canteen steps, the boys on the left and the girls on the right. Mr Lee and Mrs Tay, please go ahead.”

Mr Lee was the disciplinary master for the school and Mrs Tay was his assistant. She was in charge of the lower levels while he looked after the upper secondary classes. Today, she was helping to check the girls for unkempt hair and forbidden hairstyles, such as dyed hair.

The three boys tilted their heads gingerly. They did not want to be caught. Kelvin’s hair was curly and he could get away with having thick hair. But, Yisheng’s hair needed hair cream to help it stick together. He had forgotten to apply hair cream today and he was sure it was in a mess and he would be called out. Simon was sure he would be caught. There was totally no slope at the nape of his head where his fair fell down in a sweep. Simon quickly crawled through the two rows of students on his right and headed for the toilet. He was sure no one had noticed him. The two teachers doing their rounds of hair-checking were at other end of the assembly, where the secondary fives were seated. As he got to his feet, he slapped the dirt off his long khaki pants.

This time, Mr Lee, who was in a particularly good mood today, had singled out only nine students. He was busy recording down their names. Those caught had to have their hair cut properly that day and report to him for a hair-check the next day. Mrs Tay, nicknamed Ang-Mo-Tay by successive generations of students taught by her, caught six girls. They received an earful from her before being let off with a warning to get their hair cut or tied properly.

The morning assembly was soon over, and the students snaked up the flight of stairs to their classrooms. There were councillors on duty to keep them in herd during their movement up the stairs. Some of the students jabbed playfully at the councillors as they moved along the corridor, and up the stairs. Others shrugged along; they had a full eight periods of lessons ahead. Most of them were resigned to spending the rest of the morning in the company of books. Some of them, the bookworms, seemed full of zest. It was easy to make them out – they were bespectacled, and prim and proper, the goody-two-shoes type. Somehow, they seemed out of place in this neighbourhood school. Simon appeared from out of nowhere and joined 3A1 as they clambered up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, on the third level, the procession split into their classes. 3A1 lined up outside their classroom, the first next to the stairs on the third storey, as the other students filed past them. Mr Ee, their Mathematics teacher was standing at the head of the line. He had been waiting for them there. Their first two periods was Mathematics, a subject which most of them hated to the core.

“Move in, two by two. Don’t go by the back door,” ordered Mr Ee.

The students moved quietly to their seats and settled in. There was hardly a noise as they did so. It was so unlike a Normal Academic class to be so quiet. There was only one reason for this – Bulldog Ee. Everyone in the class hated Bulldog Ee. He was the National Cadet Police Corp’s (NPCC) officer-in-charge. Though this was 3A1, Bulldog Ee regarded everyone in his class as a cadet and expected everyone to behave like a cadet. He was Mr No Nonsense himself. Bulldog Ee sat in his chair, took out a textbook from his big attaché case and flipped open the textbook. As he did so, he tilted his head above his wide-rim spectacles - those bifocals which allowed reading of print and viewing far objects; you knew they were bi-focals because a line ran through the middle of the lenses horizontally – and surveyed the class. There was pin-drop silence all around.

“Now, let’s turn to page 115 and try the exercise there.”

Bulldog Ee didn’t need to say more. It was understood that the students had to complete the sums on that page during that two periods and hand them in at the end of the lesson. So much could be inferred from just that single sentence. He had the class totally under his control, it seemed. But, to be fair, with Bulldog Ee as their Maths teacher, everyone had better grades. Yisheng, who used to get a C5 for the subject now found himself with an A2 for Maths during the mid-year examinations. It was a miracle! Somehow, Bulldog Ee had found a way to produce results in his classes. The students’ only complaint was he used the fear element unsparingly. Still good results were good results – that was the undeniable truth.

The students were glad to be rid of Bulldog Ee when the bell rang to signal the start of the third lesson for the day.

“Ah! Chinese now,” muttered Kelvin. He had forgotten Bulldog Ee had left the classroom.

“Aiyah! ET. He’s long gone. You can raise your voice now,” exclaimed Simon.

Continued HERE! (Part 3/3)