The Intervention Epidemic

A horror comedy about the dangerous consequences of getting involved

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“You’re hopeless!” The cutlery on the coffee shop’s tables did trampoline jumps. “What the — “ Nina exclaimed as the loudest shouting imaginable interrupted her noodle enjoyment.

She looked up with reluctance. GREAT — delicious — noodle reluctance.

A customer lambasted an elderly cleaner for clearing his meal when he hadn’t finished. His voice was —

Safely above aeroplane levels. The cleaner, of course, became a size smaller.

Heads turned around her. The bodies attached to them stayed fixed. Hands strayed into pockets and brought out ever-reliable phone cameras — exclusively for recording unexpected tiffs.

The irate customer followed the cleaner like a dog refusing to let go of a scent. She kept raising her voice. She deliberately knocked her trolley sideways, scattering half-eaten food across the floor. The chair rose to an unimaginable height- And Nina had enough. She bolted from her seat. “Security! Security!” She caught the renegade piece of furniture and hollered. A diner finally shifted his position. Then another.

The attacking time bomb was finally attached to cuffs. Nina turned to the cleaner, expecting either an open mouth or dropped jaw — Not one who cared more for the creases on her uniform. “Thanks,” she offered — Then — “What a silly thing to do.” The cleaner straightened a crease, too calm for one who had just been struck. “You needn’t have done that.” She hurried off and merged with the incoming lunch crowd.

That evening — Crash. Knock. Knock. Knock Nina flung the door open. It was the cleaner, standing outside, the same plastic chair raised above her head. “You interfered.” Her voice was monotonous. Sharp. Accusing. “Now finish it.” Nina slammed the door shut. She didn’t sleep a wink that night. She chatted with Ah Lum, the chicken rice seller, at the coffee shop the next day. “Oh, her.” Ah Lum’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “She passed years ago. When some angry customer flung a chair.” Nina’s jaw fell.

That night. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nina’s fingers gripped the door handle and paused. For a while. Then she flung the door open. She stood there. With the chair. She apparently had a fond habit of hauling coffee shop furniture around…. And making appearances with it. Raised. But didn’t throw it. Instead, she put it down and beckoned Nina to follow her back to the hawker centre… Where another customer had collapsed. At first, the same thing happened. Everyone fixed to their chairs. Mobile phones in hand. Nina started to approach him… But it wasn’t the first. The man who restrained the brutish customer was already attending to him. Another calls an ambulance. Another clears a space. Yet another turns him on his side. At a corner, amid this flurry of activity… The cleaner flashes a broad smile. Then merges with the crowd.

Nina had started an epidemic.

For #TheChallenged

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In answer to Deanna Bugalski 💋’s prompt for August 26

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