It took several days for Johnny to lay the foundations for his plan. He collected all the equipment he needed, travelling as far afield as Tanjung Malim. He called in on many of his old contacts, who were pleased to see him after such a long time. Everyone remarked that he was in particularly good cheer, and he affected halfhearted demurrals. He invited them all to come to the shop and promised them special discounts. “Great things always happen when there are many people around,” he said. At home he tried to behave as usual, but his excitement was not easily contained, especially as he grew closer to putting his plan into action.
“How’s the shop?” T.K. asked at dinner one evening. “You seem to be working very hard, always at the shop late.”
“So-so,” Johnny replied. After a short pause, “A few small problems. Nothing much.”
“Problems?” T.K. looked up, resting his chopsticks on the table. He did not like problems.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Tell me — what are these problems?”
“Really, they’re very small things. I should not have mentioned them even.”
“If there is a problem,” T.K. said, “perhaps it will help you to speak to me about it. I have an interest in my son-in-law’s business, after all.”
“As I said, it’s nothing.” Johnny smiled. “But I would prefer not to discuss these matters here, at home.” He glanced at Patti and Snow.
“Of course, of course,” T.K. said, “it’s not polite to talk about these things in front of women.”
“Maybe you’d like to come to the shop instead?”
“Yes. That way you will be able to explain any problems — if there are any — fully.”
“What a good idea.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No — the day after would be better.”
“Fine. Let’s say eleven o’clock.”
That evening Johnny lay on his side of the bed, cocooned in his world of hot hazy dreams.
“What’s the matter?” Snow asked.
“Nothing,” he said, and he turned on his side. He could not fall asleep.
HE DAY T.K. CAME to the shop, it rained heavily and unexpectedly. It was mid-August and the dry season was at its peak, shrinking the rivers into cracked brown beds and rotting the overripe mangoes and jackfruit which lay blackening on the ground. At this time of year the people of the Valley shut themselves indoors in the afternoons. They fan themselves with rolled-up newspapers and wait for the odd breeze to stir the heavy air. Occasionally, even at the driest times of the year, there may be a brief rain shower, sweeping swiftly across the Valley, gently moistening the parched leaves of the trees. Barely an hour after it passes, the earth is dry again and does not smell of water.
But the rains which came on the day T.K. travelled to the shop were not like these short showers. On that day the Valley woke up to an unfamiliar smell: the flower-sweet breath of overnight rain. The sky was a brooding grey. From early in the morning, people went out into the streets, walking in the warm rain. They left their umbrellas at home and splashed childlike through the puddles, their feet clad only in flimsy rubber slippers. They shopped for food at the market, where water streamed off the tarpaulins and made the ground soft and slippery. Sometimes raindrops would hiss on the charcoal fires upon which sardines and cuttlefish grilled; the smell it made filled the air with the scent of the sea.
Johnny wondered if the weather would affect his plans. He worried that all the little fuses and wires he had prepared might have become damp during the night. Who could have thought of rain at this time of the year? He felt a sudden shiver of doubt. It was too late now. All was set in motion. If he was to become the most famous man in the Valley he had to carry on regardless. He would not fail.
The intricate system of wires, fuses, and timers ran all over the shop, hidden from sight behind panels, skirting boards, door hinges, and floorboards. Johnny went to the main control box in his money room as soon as he arrived at the shop. All seemed fine. A sleepy-eyed boy had arrived early, his thin singlet drenched in rain.
“Go make some tea,” Johnny said, “and fetch yourself a new shirt from the shop.”
Once he was alone Johnny ran through the entire circuit, testing connections and switches to make sure nothing had been affected by the damp. Only one isolated part of the system, which lay behind some earthenware pots in a roofless corridor, had to be hastily replaced. As he fixed the small defect, Johnny resisted the temptation to smile. It would be his finest day yet.
When T.K. arrived at the shop, business was brisk. People sat patiently on high stools, waiting to be served. They drank complimentary cups of coral-red Pu-erh tea, which were the hallmark of the shop’s legendary hospitality. Johnny himself was serving behind the counters that morning. Customers remarked that he seemed to be exceptionally vigorous and enthusiastic. Everyone was pleased to see him serving in the shop again; they shared jokes with him and teased him about his good health. It must be marriage, they said, winking and roaring with laughter.
