FRAGMENTED MEMORIES

[Chapter 1.3] Redemption

When the news of my mom's passing reached me, I only had less than a month to stay in the Windy City, Wellington.

At this point in time, I had completed my study at Victoria University of Wellington in Teaching of English as Second and Other Languages (TESOL) -- submitted all the assignments, sat all the exams -- I basically have dots all the Is and crossed all the Ts, and the only thing left to do was preparing ourselves and the things we wanted to ship home.

And, oh! Have I mentioned that I was the Cohort 4 leader in Wellington? Every week, I had a meeting with our cohort coordinator, Annette Klaassen, a vibrant, dark blonde lady behind a pair of round glasses. Once a month, I had to meet our programme coordinator, Jonathan Newton together with Anette, to report on any current issues among Malaysian students. So you see, I had always been busy there due to my position as the group leader and the responsibilities that came with it -- aside from lectures, tutorial classes, assignments, and my part-time jobs.

One night, as I was ready to bid good night to the world while comfortably snuggling under my warm purple and blue polkadot duvet after a very long and busy day, came a sharp buzzing sound from my old Acer laptop. It was my Yahoo! Messenger. Before WhatsApp and other mobile messenger applications became available, YM had always been our trusted mean of communication.

I looked at the screen.

"Fi, are you there?"

It was Norazirah or always known as Ore, my course mate. We had always been classmates since the first day I was enrolled in IPBA and was placed in Foundation 2.4 class.

"Yup. Here," I replied briefly, still feeling sleepy.

"I hope I'm not disturbing your sleep. I really need your favour right now."

"Not at all," I typed before I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and to wash my face.

"I need a plane ticket to go back to Malaysia. Urgent."

I was puzzled as I read what was written on the screen. Why would Ore need the ticket? I asked her just that but she seemed reluctant, as if trying to hide something from me.

On the screen, Ore seemed to be typing something but she stopped halfway. I immediately asked,

"Ore, listen. If there is really an urgent matter, please tell me so that I can help you. I'm the group leader, remember?"

There was a moment of silence before Ore finally came clean:

"Sorry, Fi. I didn't want to bother you since your mom just passed away," Ore started. I could imagine her innocent face that looked guilty while apologising.

"It's okay," I replied briefly.

"It's not me who needs the flight ticket. It's Izz."

Izz stayed in the same apartment with Ore at Everton. Izz and I were quite close, and we often joked around pretending we were father and daughter. Sounded weird, I know, but aren't we all a little weird?

"What happened to Izz?" I asked, concerned.

"It's her mom. She was admitted to ICU earlier today and now she's in a critical condition."

I gasped.

"When did you learn about this?"

"Around 4pm today."

"Since 4?"

I looked at the clock on my desk. It was about half to midnight already. I let out a heavy sigh,

"And you're only contacting me NOW?"

"Sorry, Fi. We tried to search for the cheapest flight ticket since 4 but we found none."

Of course it was almost impossible to find a cheap direct flight on the spot like that. You had to book early or buy one during a promotional sale. What should we do then?

While browsing through multiple websites in search of cheap flight tickets, I remembered an offer made to me about going back to Malaysia when my mom passed away. I quickly called auntie Rosie and explained the situation to her.

"Ore, tell Izz to pack her things now," I sent a message to Ore, "auntie Rosie helped us find a flight ticket and the earliest one she could find will depart at 7am tomorrow."

A new messenger window appeared on my laptop's screen. It was Izz.

"Thank you, abah."

Even when she was filled to the brim with emotions, she still jokingly referred to me as her "abah."

The next morning, Ore accompanied Izz to the airport. About half a day later, Izz safely arrived in KLIA after making the eight-thousand-kilometre journey. And less than a week after, I received a YM message from Izz,

"Abah, my mom has passed away."

I sunk into my chair to hear the sad news.

"I'm here to thank you again. If you didn't help to get the ticket that day, probably I wouldn't have the chance to spend the past few days with my mom during her last moments."

"Don't mention it," I replied. "It's my duty as the group leader...and as your abah."

My chat with Izz that day meant a lot to me. What I could not do with my mom, Izz was able to do it with hers -- to spend quality time, the last moments together with her mom while expressing how much they meant to each other -- those were among the things I aggravated and regretted so much.

By helping Izz, it felt as if I have somehow redeemed myself and I could finally learn to let go...and to live.

TO BE CONTINUED.