You Must Fall In Love

Chapter One

When Christine Lam Siew-Fong was much younger and only slightly less cynical, her mother told her that she would most definitely be married.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Your fortune says that you'll be married by the age of twenty-one."

"Married? Haaaah. For what?"

It was a hot and muggy day, but the days had been hot and muggy in Singapore since forever, and so ten-year-old Christine decided to complain about something else instead, like her mother's sudden announcement.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me. And speak standard English, please. It's 'what for', not 'for what'."

Christine rolled her eyes, smacked her bony elbows into the round table and looked across at Mummy, glaring at her thin wrists and jade bracelet and the patch on her right index finger where the ring used to be.

Daddy told her, a long time ago, that the ring was a sign of his love for Mummy, that he had bought it with three months' pay and a bit more besides that. But that was before Mummy and Daddy had started yelling at each other every night, throwing things in the kitchen and leaving food on the floor, all the things that Christine wasn't allowed to do.

And now the ring was gone, and so was Daddy. No more marriage, no more love.

Simple as that, she supposed.

The giant white ceiling fan spun the scent of curry and braised pork and fried fish down on them, sugar and spice and everything rice. Flies wove in and out at their leisure. Hawker centers were like the school canteen, but with better food and more flies. In the surrounding stalls the uncles and aunties stirred and chopped and boiled, tossing prawn noodles and flipping prata and steaming salty carrot cake, which was called carrot cake even though it was clearly made of radish.

Flies probably didn't get nagged at by their mothers. Maybe in her next life, she could be a fly.

"Okaaaaay," she whined, dragging out her voice for maximum annoyance levels. "Twenty-one? Why not twenty-two?"

Christine smirked, folded her arms and waited for a response. Her yellow singlet, decal faded and cracked with age, showed five man-like things in colored suits, parading from her stomach in a weird group pose. Jen said it was dumb and boyish, like the Saturday shows on Okto, but Christine liked boyish. She liked the Powder Rangers.

"Because, Christine..."

Mummy put away her handphone and looked at her watch with thin lips. It was the 'I don't have time to explain' look, like the one Mrs. Hao in Science class had, and possibly also the 'help me, Guanyin Pusa, my daughter is incredibly annoying' look, like the one Ah-Ma had every time they went home for reunion hotpot. But she would always explain in the end, because if she didn't explain, that might mean that she was wrong.

"You'll understand when you're older," she said, the same way she always said it. "I'm just preparing you, that's all. Hurry up and eat your noodles."

Christine knew Mummy would say that. Mummy was never wrong. She was Lily Lau Beng Hua, one of the greatest exorcists in all of Southeast Asia. She knew everything about the spirit world and the old magic and the rites that looked like stupid dancing.

Other kids' mothers called them 'ah girl' or 'mei-mei', but Mummy only ever called Christine by her English name. Because Mummy had good English and was English-educated in Raffles Girls'. Not like Christine, who was Singlish-educated despite going to a private international school that cost big money.

Christine didn't understand Mummy. Not at all.

"But Mummy," she said, swirling the fishballs and mee around and around with her chopsticks, "that just means you don't want to explain. Please explain. I need to know, Mummy."

She wanted to be older. Not to find a husband, but to prove Mummy wrong. Mummy always thought she was right, and it was annoying. Christine was right, too. Most of the time.

Mummy sighed and rubbed the bit above her nose.

"Alright, then. What is magic?"

Christine's eyes lit up in challenge. This one she knew. She could recite it by heart, forwards, backwards, and even in Chinese if she tried hard enough. Just like the National Pledge.

"Magic is ritual. Magic is the outward expression of inward truth. Magic takes place in time, but is not bound in time. Magic takes place out of time, but is not beyond time. With magic Man can perform great deeds even in the Otherworld, but without an offering, he can do no magic, not even in this world. Magic is ritual and sacrifice."

Mummy nodded, which made her wildly happy. If even Mummy didn't see anything wrong, then it had to be perfect!

"Marriage is also a ritual. Remember that."

It was strange, because although Christine carried the memory of this talk for the rest of her days, what remained with her forever was the look on her mother's face. She looked dry and sad and the wrinkles on her face stood out like cracks in the concrete court at school, even though she was only forty-two years old and everyone on the Internet called her sexy. The Sexy Aunty Exorcist.

It was then that Christine decided that she would never get married. Because if she didn't get married, she would prove Mummy wrong, and if she did, she would be as sad as Mummy was when Daddy left, and in any case the whole wedding thing seemed like a losing proposition.

"Then I'm never getting married," she said, sealing the deal as simply and cleanly as a bicycle bell.

Mummy looked at her and blinked, like there was dust in her eyes. It was so weird that Christine could only stare back in shock.

"You will," she said. "Whether you want to or not."

"I won't," said Christine, even more resolutely.

"You will," snapped Mummy, all business once more. "Are you going to finish your food?"

"Not hungry," said Christine, even though she was, desperately. It felt like the proper, determined thing to do.

"Suit yourself," said Mummy, before standing up. "Come on, Christine, time's up. I have a client in Kallang and the parking is going to expire."

"Wait," said Christine. "I haven't finished the nood... I mean, Teacher told us that wasting food is bad!"

"Fine then," said Mummy, rustling in her handbag, "meet me back at home. You have your EZ-Link? House keys? Fortune charm?"

By the time Christine could jangle them at her, she was already gone, walking at a brisk pace, slithering through the crowd like a piece of dental floss.

Christine turned her disappointed look into a resolute frown, even though it felt emptier than her stomach now that Mummy wasn't here.

If marriage was so great, then Mummy would be married. But she wasn't, and hadn't been for a long time, and so this was simply just another case of Mummy telling her to do something that she hadn't done herself. Something that would only lead to loss.

Christine knew. Christine was smart. Christine never went back on her word.

She sat back down and began to sip her cold fishy broth, trying to ignore the sound of wedding bells that rang in her head, overshadowing her like a vast hellish seagull.