By 6.30 pm, save for the football field behind the canteen and the two basketball courts, the unexpected storm had mostly ceased, and most students took the chance to step out of the school. Some marveled at the rainbow arcing over Serangoon; others reveled in their freedom and the chance to end the day as soon as possible. After all, that day was the last day of school before the long-awaited June Holidays.
Mei Qian did not head home after her parent-teacher meeting as I had thought--she was standing on the further end of the field. Initially, I could not recognize her from her silhouette as she was shrouded in layers upon layers of pouring rain.
Now if you were the one standing at where I was then--beneath the dispersed clouds and the vermilion light filtering through the gaps in between--you, too, would be wondering why it still rained just 3 meters beyond you. You would stand before the downpour with your arm stretched, reaching for the raindrops falling in front of you.
But as you let the cold drops splash atop your warm, dry palms, you would retract it the instant you see the disfigured, a black figure darkened and obscured by the ceaseless localized rain. You would wonder why the person wished to stay in the field surrounded by puddles of rippling water, knowing that just behind her, the downpour had stopped and the sky had cleared. You would ask how the person was able to withstand the chilling downpour after having felt with your skin how cold the water falling from the sky was. You would then venture into the same field and wander into the same frigid rain.
And you would question--even to this day--what it was that beckoned you to forsake the drier, warmer basketball court, for the freezing evening rain before you.
I still remember the tender warmth of the emerging sun caressing my cheeks and its soothing orange rays blanketing the concrete beneath my feet that evening. I can still see the puddles of water glistening under its lights and how the smoother sand particles trapped among the cement shone like grains of rubies surfacing from the earth. Even the rusty basketball hoop which had seemed to rot with age was given a new life beneath the shaft of twilight glow. And to this day, I still hear the sound of water from the puddled basketball courts splashing against my white canvas shoes as I walked parallel to the green chain-linked fence demarcating the rainy field.
After taking an indefinite amount of time staring at the silhouette from behind the fence, I finally took my first steps into the shroud of water droplets with my sling bag and everything else in it. A faint scent of rust lingered as I pushed open the chain-linked gate weathered by the sun and rain.
I left it ajar as it had been, and continued towards the blackened figure standing behind the bushes and the same green fence on the other end of the field.
The walk felt longer than a few minutes; I figured that the pools of rippling water, the cold rain, and the enigma of her darkened figure were all to blame. Halfway along, I deduced that the silhouette was that of a girl from her slender waist, petite stature, and delicate posture. The girl turned to me as I approached her, perhaps having heard my footsteps in the pouring rain, or discerned the dissonant splashes among the rhythmic patters. Although she widened her eyes after seeing me, her listless, faded gaze betrayed all signs of being surprised.
"Are you feeling cold?"
I wonder why I chose to utter this among the many other questions fleeting through my mind that evening. However, despite the awkward silence which ensued my sudden utterance, Mei Qian gave a faint nod as a reply. She turned towards the mud in her hands, most of which had slipped through the gaps between her fingers as the sky above the football field poured.
She was drenched, and the white uniform of our school clung tightly to her fair, unblemished skin. I am ashamed to admit that it was a sight to behold yet a view I would only come to appreciate later in my adolescence when I began to comprehend the allure of the female body.
