Granny Ng shook her head, surprising herself with a giggle that was almost girlish. Brother Shek stood up and announced, “I hope no one objects to my amateurish playing,” to which villagers responded with enthusiastic cheers. Brother Shek started playing and leading the others in renditions of popular folk songs and theme tunes from old television serials. At Brother Shek’s invitation, Kitty got up and sang the solo of one of these songs, startling Granny Ng with the melodiousness of her voice. The crowd urged her to sing again and again. She was a confident and theatrical performer, urging the villagers to clap along and pausing to tease several of them with a song’s romantic lyrics. Kitty received her standing ovation with the effortless grace of a seasoned performer.

Brother Shek leaned over to Granny Ng and said, “It’s a shame she doesn’t sing more often. I hear she used to be a regular on the hotel circuit. Now it’s all karaoke machines.”

“I thought she was a hairdresser,” said Granny Ng.

“She was,” said Brother Shek’s wife, who had taken the seat beside Granny Ng unnoticed. She looked a little plumper than before, though it might have been the billowy floral shirt she was wearing.

“She just sang for fun,” Brother Shek’s wife asserted. “She never made it as a real singer.”

When Kitty came back to the group, she was a little breathless and excited, her face flushed with pink. “I hope I didn’t make a nuisance of myself out there,” she smiled.

“We were saying what a shame it is that you don’t sing for us more often,” said Brother Shek.

“You have a very smooth voice,” added Granny Ng.

“You’re so kind,” said Kitty. “It’s nice to have an appreciative audience.”

At the request of her neighbors, Kitty agreed to an encore. She chose a song that Granny Ng recognized as having been popular in the seventies. As Kitty sang, the melodious strains of her voice spun and floated up towards the late afternoon sky like an invocation to an unknown god.

DECEMBER

On the third day of December, Granny Ng was caught and arrested. The young man had installed a surveillance system whose cameras had recorded the movements of a small elderly woman wandering around his house. The police found her in the closet, curled up on her side. She looked up nervously at the police officers, a middle-aged male and a younger female, who stared back in surprise. Finally, the female officer called the young man in from the living room.

“Looks like we’ve found your burglar, sir.”