06 July 2008



I left the house and headed for the airport. Dad's flying back from his trip to Borobudor. After exiting the first junction I stayed right and prepared to make an illegal U-turn. It wasn't my first choice - the petrol station that I usually make my U-turns at have closed down a year ago. Anyway, I've done this turn many times and after I assessed the situation, I made the turn.

Then I heard a honk, a screech, and then a bang.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," I quickly braked and got out. I knew I was in big trouble this time. Dad always cautioned me: Car accidents are never a big deal, but when you hit a motorcycle you put human lives at stake. And as I pulled the young lady up I quickly surveyed for critical injuries. She was able to stand up but looked weak. I helped propped her bike up again, and by that time the vultures have swooped in.

The vultures, in this case, are the super-quick workshop representatives who seem ever ready to whisk your bike to their repair shop. I dreaded them because there are plenty of horror stories of them ripping people off. Right now that's one less thing I want to worry about.

I asked Hana, whose name I learnt soon, if she was OK. She nodded, but I knew I had to take her to the clinic. She locked her bike at the accident scene and I drove her to the nearest clinic. The doctor advised her to get an X-ray done at the General Hospital because she complained of chest pains.

During that time the vultures started working their 'magic' on me, giving me all sorts of bullshit like, "Her brother called me to come", "This will have to be reported to police". I saw through the intimidation but I was already feeling stressed and didn't need any more.

On the drive to the GH I talked her out of going with the vulture's plan. I wanted to settle the issue between us and avoid going through them. She seemed to agree, but they were still trailing my car all the way to the emergency entrance.

Earlier I had SMS-ed Dad about my worst transgression so far and he called back just as I was registering her to see the doctor. He was pissed off, as expected, but found out all the details over the phone. I tried speaking as little as possible, at least until he got here.

And so began the long wait for her turn. Her brother came and they both seemed nice people. There was no intimidation from her brother at all and I was surprised. So while she waited, her brother and I talked to the vultures. What it basically amounted to was blackmail. They agreed not to make a police report if I engaged their services. They promised me that repairs will not be any higher than RM300, less than the fine I would get for breaking traffic rules.

Did I have a choice? Hana's brother agreed to the repair being done by the vultures, and I will pay them. And just like that, the vultures flew off into the night searching for their next meal. This problem is over for now, unless the vultures turned around and charged me more than RM300.

But I could not worry about that yet. By that time Dad arrived and we talked to both of them before she went in for her check up. Dad was reassuringly calm, and he said we have no choice but to make a police report in case Hana's condition worsened.

After 10 minutes that stretched forever, Hana came out in a wheelchair. She was still waiting for her X-ray. Dad explained his reasons for having to make an official report, and we left the hospital. I still do not know what were the results of the X-ray. I can only hope nothing was fractured and no permanent damage was caused.

We got home, and I typed this. A lot of shit is gonna hit the fan, but one thing's for sure - I'll be having lots of sleepless nights.

1 comment:

Mark said...

Gosh, mien...sorry to read about what happened. Shit has hit the fan indeed for you.

I hope you pull through just fine.