I enter the kitchen the next morning with Pop-Pop on my mind, fully aware that it’s Ancestor Day—and that I only have one more day of vacation left. After staring at the rice cooker for the past two days, I finally decide to try it out, armed with an easy recipe I found online. While the meal cooks itself, I receive a call from Daddy.
Tambara: Hey, Daddy.
Wade: Hi, princess. Is everything okay? By the time I arrived in Henford, I was practically kicking myself for leaving you there alone—and your mother wasn’t too happy about it either.
Tambara: Why? I’m an adult now. There’s nothing to worry about.
Wade: Yeah, but you’re alone in another country, and you just lost your grandfather. How are you doing with that?
Tambara: I’m okay. I’ve been keeping myself busy. How’s everything there?
Daddy sighs heavily and sniffs a few times. His voice is heavy, the sound of someone trying to hold themselves together, when he finally speaks.
Wade: He left a letter.
Daddy doesn’t specify who, but I figure he means Pop-Pop. He continues.
Wade: I guess he wrote it when he couldn’t get in touch with me on the phone.
Tambara: A letter? What did it say?
Emotion weighs down Daddy’s voice as he continues.
Wade: That he loves us. And that Ma came to him last night. That’s how he knew *sniffs* that his time was, you know… near. I’m guessing that’s what he was calling to tell me.
Tambara: At least you know now.
Wade: Yeah, it helps. *brief pause* Oh yeah, I wanted to tell you that the funeral is tomorrow. I can arrange for you to fly directly to Willow Creek, but I understand if it’s too much, and you’d rather skip it.
Tambara: No, I want to be there.
Wade: Okay, I’ll make the arrangements.
Daddy gives me a few last details about the funeral and everything else that’s going on before finally advising me to call my mother. I promise I will, and we end the call.
There’s still plenty of time before breakfast is ready, so I make good on my promise and video call Mom. She answers immediately, as if she’s been staring at the phone waiting.
Maia: *on the phone* Tami! How are you?
Tambara: I’m good. I just talked to Dad.
Maia: Yeah, I was so sorry to hear about Kai. Will you be back for the funeral?
Tambara: Yeah, I’m leaving here tomorrow.
I tell Mom all about what it’s like here in Tomarang, including the rain and some things I’ve found to do.
Tambara: I spent all day yesterday at the spa, and today I’m thinking about visiting the local tiger sanctuary.
Maia: So it has truly turned into your first solo trip.
Tambara: Yeah, I just wish it were warmer. Next time I’ll come in the summer instead. But guess what—I’m cooking breakfast. A dish called Nasi Lemak.
I can hear the surprise in Mom’s voice.
Maia: You, cooking?
Tambara: It’s easy. I just cut everything up and put it in a rice cooker. We need to get one.
Maia: I’ll add it to my list. Let me know how it turns out.
Tambara: I will. See you tomorrow.
We say our love yous and goodbyes, and then I end the call and remove my meal from the rice cooker.
Breakfast turns out okay. It could be better—but so could the weather. It’s cold outside, so I decide to jog to the Tiger Sanctuary as a way to warm up, since it’s not far—just across the bridge from the restaurant Daddy and I ate at when we first arrived.
The sun is barely peeking over the clouds, giving the illusion that it might warm up later, but the forecast calls for cold and possibly rain all day.
I soon make it to the sanctuary, and it’s beautiful—full of trees, historical plaques, and posters. I don’t see any tigers, though, which might be a good thing, because I also don’t see any barriers or cages to separate me from them. Are they just free to roam around? That’s a scary thought.
I stick around and enjoy the sound of their roars, which, for all I know, could be strategically placed speakers playing pre-recorded tiger sounds. That would be a rip-off. Still, I do my part by leaving a donation and adopting a tiger. At least I’ll get a unique tiger plushie out of the deal.
I jog back to the rental for a shower and change into warmer clothes before heading out again in search of indoor entertainment. I catch another TukTuk ride to the Morensong Neighborhood. Down the street from the night market, there’s an entertainment complex that includes an arcade, karaoke, and other amenities. I decide to check it out, hoping I’ll find someone my age to hang out with.
Solo travel is cool—I can do what I want, when I want. But it’s also lonely. I haven’t really talked to anyone or had an actual conversation in, like, a day. And hearing my own voice in my head all the time is exhausting. I’d give anything for a connection.
I enter the building on the arcade side and see that it’s pretty empty—which, I guess, isn’t surprising since it’s still fairly early in the day. I try out one of the arcade games and discover that the old retro titles aren’t for me. Maybe it would be better with other people to play with, because right now it’s just a waste of money to be greeted with a quick game over.
I cross the lobby, which connects the arcade to a large room with a dance floor, bar, and karaoke stage. As I scan the room, my eyes land on the stage and don’t leave once they do. There’s a guy up there singing a song I’m not familiar with, but it sounds pretty catchy. Still, it’s not the song that captures my attention. It’s the guy himself. He’s nice to look at, and I don’t see anyone else around, so maybe he’s here alone too.
I walk over to the nearest table to listen to him sing. He’s definitely not a singer, but his voice isn’t unpleasant. Besides, karaoke is mostly about the performance, and he’s putting on a show, which makes it ten times better.
Unknown Guy: *singing on stage*
♫ Dancing, I’m all alone
Figuring out how I can get you home
Dancing with my phone
Thinking about youOn my feet and now I’m out the door
Walking by the places that we used to go
I remember all your favorite stores
I won’t lieI don’t think I even know myself anymore
You’re the one who knew me…well♬ (Song: Dancing With My Phone – HYBS)
I know the point of going to karaoke is to listen to the performances, but I don’t want to sit there staring at the guy looking lonely as hell, even though I am. I pry myself out of my seat and make my way to the bar. If I’m going to sit and watch, I should at least have a drink in my hand.
I sit at the bar.
Tambara: Can I get a sweet and spicy?
The bartender continues wiping the glass in his hand, staring.
Tambara: Please?
Bartender: You look a little young. Let me see your ID.
ID? I didn’t bring my ID with me. But I still want that drink.
Tambara: I’m obviously an adult. Just give me the drink.
Bartender: Obvious? You look twelve.
Tambara: Dude. I’m here celebrating my young adult birthday. I can show you my social media. Just give me the drink. Please.
I add some venom to that last “please.” I’m not in the mood to play around because I want to be back in my seat before that guy leaves the stage and disappears.
The bartender doesn’t budge in his face or demeanor.
Tambara: What do you make? About five simoleons an hour, or whatever the Tomarang equivalent is? I’ll triple it right now if you just give me the damn drink.
Bartender: Let me guess. You’re from Simerica, thinking that everything can be bought. I wouldn’t give you the drink for a million simoleons. Now go.
Anger is bubbling up, and I can think of a thousand insults I could sling at him. He’d probably call security, which would make this a bad day. Besides, I can no longer hear any singing on stage.
I hurry from the bar and head back toward the stage, relieved to see the guy still standing there. Why is he just standing? Is he trying to decide whether to pick another song? Or could he possibly be waiting for me? I kind of hope it’s the latter.
He stands a moment longer and makes direct eye contact with me. I’m tempted to meet his gaze with a smile, but that feels a bit presumptuous. He breaks our eye contact and leaves the stage.
The stage is now empty, suddenly feeling huge as I stand at the steps. I hesitate for a moment. The stage seems to welcome me, as if to say, “Your turn.” Do I have it in me to capture this guy’s attention? Heck yeah, I do.
I search the song list for the perfect track, grab the mic, and do my best to match his energy and put on a show.
Tambara: *singing, slightly off-key*
♩ Day to night to mornin’, keep with me in the moment
I’d let you had I known it, why don’t you say so?
Didn’t even notice, no punches left to roll with
You got to keep me focused, you want it? Say soDay to night to mornin’, keep with me in the moment
I’d let you had I known it, why don’t you say so?
Didn’t even notice, no punches left to roll with
You got to keep me focused, you want it? Say soIt’s been a long time since you (fell in love)
You ain’t comin’ out your shell
You ain’t really been yourself
Tell me, what must I do? (Do tell, my love)
‘Cause luckily, I’m good at reading
I wouldn’t bug him, but he won’t stop cheesin’♪ (Song: Say So – Doja Cat)
I’m moving my hips and doing my best to keep up with the fast-paced lyrics toward the end. My enthusiasm falters a little, and my energy starts to dwindle. A drink would have loosened me up, and now I’m realizing I probably should have chosen a shorter song. Still, I manage to pick it back up at the end with the chorus, which just repeats a few more times.
Tambara: *singing*
Day to night to mornin’, keep with me in the moment
I’d let you had I known it, why don’t you say so?
Didn’t even notice, no punches left to roll with
You got to keep me focused, you want it? Say so
Mercifully, the song finally ends. I look over, hoping the guy didn’t hear the rough part in the middle, but unlucky me—he’s standing there smiling. Damn. My arms and legs are shaking as I put the mic back in place.
He sits down at the table I was sitting at earlier, looking as if he expects me to walk over. I’m surprised at myself, because I’m feeling a little gun shy.
Guy: *calls out* Encore!
There’s no way I’m embarrassing myself like that again. I walk off the stage.
(Generation 5 Chapter Summaries)
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