Nursing an angry head

Boyfriend Maiyuu was waiting at the airport when I arrived home.

He looks thinner, but he always does after my annual trip away to see my family.

‘Eating alone is no fun. I still make food occasional meals for myself, but would rather buy it,’ he said.

We emailed every day over the two weeks I was absent.

He spent most of it alone, though a woman friend slept over a couple of nights to keep him company.

Another friend helped him make minor decorating changes to our place.

‘Next year, I’d like you to take me to Singapore so I can go shopping,’ Maiyuu suggested.

‘For that, you will need to organise a passport, and replace your ID card,’ I said.

It would be Maiyuu’s first trip overseas. I would like to be the first person to take him on a plane, but cooperation and tolerance will be needed on both sides.
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I bought several cooking items for Maiyuu, a bottle of whisky for Ball, and chocolates for Ball’s Mum.

‘We missed you!’ said Mum.

The two toddlers of the household remembered me. Both have grown in my absence, and the older of the two is now forming short sentences.

I called Ball’s place once while I was overseas.

Mum, who sounded excited, hurriedly passed over the phone to her son, who peppered me with questions about the flight, and what I was doing.

‘I will bring home a bottle of whisky for us to celebrate,’ I said.

The night of my return, Ball came home from work an hour early. I spent several hours with his family as we drank, watched TV, caught up on news.

Ball, who looks a little harder in the face, has kept himself out of harm.

However, the angry teen in him still surfaces now and again.

One night, police stopped him close to work. His boss had taken Ball and his colleagues out for a boozy meal and Ball was weaving his way back home on a motorbike.

‘They were looking for people who take drugs. They took me back to the station, and I gave a urine sample.

‘The officer treated me suspiciously. When he asked for the sample, I took my trousers down to challenge him. He asked me what I was doing – no one had asked me to undress.

‘I told him I was demonstrating my innocence. I asked him to look into my face. With a face as broad as mine, how could I be taking drugs? I’d look thin and drawn if I was a user,’ Ball said.

‘The policeman was lost for words. ''Just ask my mother,'' I told him. No one in my family goes near that stuff.’

It was not Ball’s only brush with the authorities.

He ran into another police checkpoint yesterday. Officers were looking for motorcyclists driving without a licence.

‘I slowed down as if I was about to agree to an inspection, but sped off at the last minute,’ he said.

It was good to see my young friend again, hot head and all.

Ball is maturing. Two small tufts of hair have grown on his legs where before there was none.

'At work, they look at my face and ask if I am girl,' he said unhappily.

'You have your mother's pretty face, though it is growing harder. You are looking more like a man since I saw you last,' I said.

He smiled.

The day after our catch-up, Ball decided he was not up to working, and stayed at home instead.

‘I told my office work in advance that I would probably take the day off, as I knew you were coming home, and we would celebrate,’ he said.