Nearly half eight, Beefy crowing
over a 4D $1455 win on Wednesday. That explained his absence the last little
while. Took him across to Tanjung Pinang to see the kids and share the bounty.
All signature cool sangfroid Beef like you get in some former jailbirds who endured well.
Butcher from Haig Road going by with Hellos in company with some young bucks
who turned out his sons. One at least a son who had been on $170 a day packets
for a good while. The old man had paid the lad generously. 170, 170, 170 before
he managed to chuck it aside, in Beefy’s vocabulary. Did the old man not know
who had been his dealer, one wondered.
Fine and clear made it perfect for the Long March, maybe some more little
gallops interspersed…. The Long March might shake-out something again from the pages. Maybe. The newly
discovered Canadian journal would receive “One Piece Dragon” with any luck, the thing having legs now, three years
later after how many
revisions. Correction, correction, correction. Writing is re-writing, rightly
said the Jap Hideo, who himself wrote in a non-native language.
Beef quietly getting his red pen out and magnifying glass. A call. Beef doesn’t
usually either receive or make calls, old school. The night before he had been waiting for nightfall when he could get to work. Didn’t
like too much daylight. Shortly after the triangulations Beef had been talking
about on the Form Guide
spread on the table before him. Long finger line, across and back up on the diagonal. Beef
“saw” the good, lucky numbers, as well as understood a certain logic in the
occurrence and sequence. He regularly drew up little three inch squares of nine
or twelve numbers and used the chart to try to explain his systems. The past
few weeks he had been talking about the triangles and pyramids. A sneaking
suspicion too the fella had decided he might have struck some kind of vein of
luck with his writer pal. Strange. Scissors not long after too cutting out a
segment for some reason. The magnifier had not been seen before and certainly
not the scissors. Soon after taking a seat a little quizzical self-mockery at
the figure a Malay would cut with
a Chinese broadsheet for passersby.
Passing too the Widow Shark, nosing by in his black and white check flat-cap.
Day or two ago close-up at the drinks counter the thatch was interesting,
shaved around the ears and down behind while grown out otherwise and coloured
what was an unusual brown russet tone for Geylang Serai. It had been Beef who
christened the fellow a few months ago, nailing the man
perfectly. Fair guess like many others the
Shark was intimidated by Beef. 150
Minute Maid Pulpy Aloe Vera for a swig was another unknown. Beef rarely ever did buy at any of the stalls.
Last day of the old regime here at Mr.
T. T. Monday Hussein from out at Bukit Bartok assumed control—$6.8m from memory. Most of the crew were having a week or
two back home in ML before reassignment elsewhere in the chain. (A reminder
there were sixteen other Mr. Teh Tariks island-wide.) The rescuer of pigeons Abdul
Majid, lover of ladies, a leading light of the workers here, is off to Chennai
for a couple of weeks visiting his wife’s family and at the same time taking
the opportunity to re-connect with Ismail the cook out at Pondicherry from the 2011-12 crew. Wonderful boys. Adieu.
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