I hadn’t been home long when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a group of middle-aged men peering at me through the gate.
After a brief but hilarious exchange involving Cantonese homophones when they tried to identify my flat (which I won’t attempt to explain in English coz it just won’t make sense), I said, “Anyways, who are you looking for?”
One of them went, “Actually, we’re the police.” Like on TV, they held up their badges.
“Well, I didn’t call the police. Maybe next door?”
“Oh no, we’d just like to ask a few questions.”
“Well, it’s regarding the abandoned body of a dead infant downstairs….”
“WHAT DEAD BABY?!”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know about it! The body of a newborn was found abandoned in the bin downstairs.”
“Well, I don’t have a TV and I haven’t been paying attention to the news. WHAT BIN WHERE?!”
“Downstairs WHERE?! I don’t know of any bin downstairs!!”
“Yeah, there’s a bin downstairs.”
“Well, have you seen any pregnant woman around?”
I notice their gaze moving down, but the bulk of my body from the chest down was blocked from view by the gate.
Their eyes scan back up to my face.
“Do you live alone?”
“No, I live with a friend.”
“……..Well ok. Thanks.”
I have no idea what got into me but I seem to be saying the darnedess things these days. A friend can’t believe I spoke to the police like that and is very surprised they’d let me off so easily.
I know I haven’t been leading a very active life lately, but I think it’s safe to say I don’t look fat enough to be recently pregnant. Plus, I figure I looked and acted too completely bewildered to appear to be lying. I’ve been cranky and saying the wrong things at the wrong time – I blame exercise withdrawal symptoms. Here, talk to the foot.