Shroud: Jinn

8 - Reflections

"Salam takziah kepadamu dan keluargamu (My deepest condolences to you and your family)," I placed a comforting hand on Latif's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze as he stared out into the sea, lost in his thoughts. 

I had driven to the village's waterfront in the hopes of seeing Latif as soon as he finished work. He had just moored his boat that was filled with the late night's catch, to the dock with a rope just as I parked my car near the shore. His face that was at first filled with euphoria was soon replaced with a blank expression as I broke the news of his stillborn daughter right after the birth of his first child.

I removed my hand from his shoulder as throngs of people took their turns to hug Latif as the news spread around the shore. I was not sure if the hugs from fellow fishermen were meant to be congratulatory or those that came from a place of solace but Latif welcomed the bittersweet comfort.

"Don't worry about the sales of your fishes. I'll take care of them," one of the men patted Latif's back. Latif replied with a meek smile.

As soon as we were alone, we walked along the jetty in silence towards a more secluded part of the waterfront where sometimes villagers went for a swim. Latif walked up to the rocky ledge, sat down and faced towards the sea. I followed suit and sat beside him. We continued sitting in silence and listened to the waves peacefully swooshing against the shore. I opened my mouth to speak but decided against it when Latif closed his eyes and emitted a long sigh as though he had held his breath back for so long. My eyes motioned towards the waves - the ebbs and flow of the sea hid the grittiness of the sand below us and I thought about the grittiness of Latif's painful sorrow. The vastness of the sea symbolic of the tears that perhaps Latif had held locked away in his heart and was afraid to shed in my presence.

Finally, Latif asked, "How's Marissa?"

"Devastated," I choked back at the memory. "She's with a medical social worker now," my voice dropped down to a whisper.

Latif let out another sigh, "I guess as much. Loss is never easy." Staring blankly at his feet, he added, "I don't understand...I thought the babies were fine. Mak Joyah said they were growing at the same pace when Marissa had her monthly prenatal massage. Marissa was fine before I left. She didn't complain of any pain." Latif let out a deep sigh before adding, "Even Mak Bidan didn't mention anything. I assumed everything was well."

"Mak Bidan?"

Why is her name so familiar?

"Yes, Mak Bidan. We don't know her real name so we just call her Mak Bidan. She's a midwife in another kampung. Marissa went to her house last week for her pre-natal massage as Mak Joyah had to help deliver her niece's baby in Brunei. Marissa couldn't afford to wait for Mak Joyah to return so Marissa engaged Mak Bidan's services for that week."

Another long pause drifted between us.

"There's something else that you should know," I said softly before filling him in the details of what happened at the field before the delivery.

Another long silence ensued.

"I don't know what to feel. It sounds absurd."

"I would have thought the same thing had I not seen it with my own eyes," I clenched my jaw and looked away guiltily as I remembered my initial hesitation to help Marissa at the field earlier. I had left that part out when I recounted the story to Latif. Still guilt-stricken, I looked at him and muttered a hushed, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising. You did what you could. You managed to rescue Marissa and helped to deliver our babies. You're even paying for the hospital fees. For that, I'm grateful."