“And then there are those clever ones.” She raised her brows. “The ones who try to burrow deeper into the flesh. I can see their tails disappearing like they’re diving for safety. So I grab the tail, pull them out slowly and you can feel them fighting, twisting, trying to break free.”

She mimed the motion with her hand. “Of course, a few escape. They always do. They burrow even deeper. Too deep for forceps.”

The room fell quiet.

“So I flush the wound with hydrogen peroxide. And you should see them struggling… swimming up to the surface, trying to breathe.” She gave a small satisfied smile. “They come up whether they like it or not.”

A soft chorus of ‘Eeee!’, ‘Aiyo!’, and ‘Oh my goodness!’ filled the room.

She glanced around at the circle of ladies and added casually, “And that, ladies, was just a normal Tuesday.”

They all stared at her, half-horrified and half-amused. This was one story they simply couldn’t stop listening to.

“Hydrogen peroxide?” one of them frowned. “Your hospital still using that stuff? I thought everything replaced already. Normal saline enough what.”

“Don’t know lah…” she shrugged. “I asked them also. But the professor said: use hydrogen peroxide first to make sure all the parasites flush out. Then use normal saline. He said this case special think he was studying it. He only allowed one person, me, to do the dressing for this patient. Other times he will come personally and I just assist.”

“Aha! So you’re his personal assistant lah…” someone teased.

“Definitely,” she replied, lifting her chin proudly.

“Go on… then what happened?” Nurul urged.

“How many did you catch this time?” another asked.

“About fifteen.”

“Wow… what’s your record?”

“Twenty.” Before she could continue, Semarah suddenly interrupted, her eyes wide with mischief.

“Do you have names for them?” The entire room froze for one second then burst into laughter.

“Names?” she repeated, pretending to be insulted. “You think I keep them as pets ah?”

Semarah wagged her finger. “You never know… some nurses sentimental one.”

Another lady chimed in, “Ya lah! Maybe got one favourite maggot… you save for last!” She threw her hands up dramatically.

“Please! This is not the Singapore Zoo. They don’t line up for attendance.” The laughter continued.

“But seriously,” Semarah insisted, wiping her eyes. “Maybe got big boss maggot, small boss maggot, deputy maggot…”

“HR department maggot,” Nurul added.

“CEO maggot,” someone shouted.

“Chairman maggot!” another joined in. At this point, she laughed so hard she almost fell off her chair.

“Okay, okay,” she said, catching her breath. “If got name, maybe got one I call Ah Fat. That one always the biggest, happiest, eating very well.”

The ladies howled.

“And got one more,” she added. “Very sneaky. Always hide behind dead tissue. That one I call Pontianak.”

“Why Pontianak?” Semarah shrieked, clutching her stomach.

“Because it only comes out at night,” she deadpanned. The entire group screamed with laughter.

“Next time we follow you do dressing,” Nurul teased. “We bring nametag for them.”

“One by one stick sticker: Hello, I am Maggot No. 7,” someone added. She shook her head and wiped her eyes, laughing.

“You all ah… crazy women.” Just then, she paused dramatically.

“Then… the curtain opened… and the medic ran out.”

“Medic?” they exclaimed in unison. “Where the hell did a medic come from?”

“From the Singapore Armed Forces lah. Where else?”

“No! But what is a medic doing there?”

“Supposed to assist me,” she said. “But too awesome for him. He couldn’t take it. He ran out to the sink… and gurgled out his breakfast.”

“No!” They burst into laughter. “Poor guy… why you torture him like that?” one of them cackled.

“Not my idea, okay,” she continued, holding up her hands. “One of the student nurses who was supposed to help me suddenly changed her mind… and somehow managed to persuade this guy to take over. I think they planned it. I suspect they don’t like this fellow.”

“They don’t? Why?” one of the ladies leaned in.

“Ya lah… to teach him a lesson. That one talks too much and very boastful. Everything he also know, everything he also better than people. So before we started, I warned him. I told him, ‘You sure or not? This is a very nasty wound… not a pretty sight… and the smell ah…’” A few women covered their mouths, already laughing. “But that guy, you know lah… the All-I-Know type. He said, ‘No problem, Ma’am. I can tolerate anything.’ Wah, say until so confident. So I just said, ‘Okay lor… grab the gown and come with me.’”

The whole circle burst into laughter.

“Hello ladies…” came a soft voice from across the room. Everyone turned at once. There she was dressed entirely in black. Black tailored pants, black T-shirt, the front printed with the outline of a giraffe in gold. We had long given her a nickname: the woman in black. Sometimes just Blackie. She never wore anything else. Not once.

I had asked her before, half-joking, “Are you in mourning or what? Don’t you own any colour other than black?” She had looked at me calmly and replied, “Easy. If my T-shirt or pants get dirty, you cannot see. Also… black is not a colour. Black is neutral. Black is emptiness. It absorbs everything, and yet remains black.”

The ladies had gone quiet that day as she continued, “You wear white, one stain, and you are polluted. You wash it, the mark still there. Red, yellow, all the same, they leave a trace. But black… black hides everything. You leave nothing behind. You become nothing. Black absorbs all, and still stays true to itself.”

I remembered blinking at her, unsure how to respond. “Okay… interesting concept,” was all I managed to say, trying to understand the wisdom behind her words. Now, as she walked toward us, the entire group jumped to their feet.

“You!” they screamed in unison. They rushed forward, each of them taking a turn to hug her.

“How did you know we were here?” She smirked. “As if I don’t know. You’re in my territory, remember? I always know who comes in and out. When I got the message that you ladies were in town, I already guessed you’d end up here.”

“Aiya,” Nurul groaned. “We’re becoming too obvious. Must change our meeting place lah!”

“This place good what,” someone argued. “We never do anything wrong. Why must move?”

“Ya lah! I like the food here. You see the buffet? They add new dishes already.” Laughter rose around the table.

Then one of them nudged Blackie. “Where have you been, huh? Your boyfriend has been harassing all of us, asking about you.”

Blackie rolled her eyes. “He did, eh? Let him be.”

“Come on lah… pity the boy. Go and be a good girl. Call him.”

“Nah.”

“Why? Aren’t you two supposed to be in love? What happen now?”

“Ya lor,” another chimed in. “He’s been calling me practically every day. Asking if we’ve seen you, heard from you.”

“…and you will tell him the same,” Blackie said calmly. “You hear nothing. You see nothing.” The ladies burst out laughing again.

“He knows I’m lying if I say that,” Nurul protested.

“Then lie harder,” Blackie said, flipping her hair. “As long as he stays out of my radar for a while.”