1969

It sounded like a good idea at the time. My cousins and me were sent off to bed on a hot inky night sometime in May 1969.  There weren't enough beds so we were herded off to sleep on the floor.  We shared a common blanket.  It wasn't fun having to sleep when you're not sleepy so we played all sorts of games as quietly as we could. Then one of us started sneaking cream crackers under the blanket to the rest of us. Boy, it was fun munching silently on those crackers under the blanket and fooling the adults into believing that we were asleep. Anyone who made a discernible noise while munching on the crackers were given a stab in the ribs. That doubled the fun factor.

The May 13 Racial Riot was in progress and many families were taking refuge upstairs at the shophouse where we lived.  A curfew was declared so the streets outside were deserted. While the children were having fun playing all sorts of games, the adults shared hushed whispers about the state of affairs.

Suddenly, we heard a loud commotion caused by the banging of pots and pans from the vicinity. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

About two hundred meters behind our shophouse was a river bank occupied by a row of wooden houses. The occupants from here laid zinc sheets along the river bank trusting in them to raise the alarm in the event of a night surprise attack.  Someone heard the zinc sheets creak that night.  The banging of the pots and pans began.

Able bodied men armed with machetes gathered for the action. Women and children peered cautiously from windows and open areas.  We watched and waited, waited and watched.  Nothing happened that night.

Then, one of the adults saw the cream cracker crumbs under our blanket. We were given an earful and sent back to a contrite sleep.

Forty years later, I discovered what happened that night.  The zinc sheets did creak and someone did walk upon it.  It was a stray canine.