In 1980's, the man liked to stand at the windows of the wards in this old hospital with colonial buildings. He would peep inside and ran away abruptly. They called him Ah Kwai or The Ghost in Hokkein dialect.
As a young medical officer, I was not particularly bothered by him except if he peeped into the gynaecology ward. Most of the times, he only hanged around the medical or surgical wards.
One busy morning in the canteen, he sat in front of me. I noticed he was a middle aged Chinese man with dark complexion, five feet 4 inches tall and was rather untidy. He ate quietly. The moment he sensed I was observing him, he went off with his food.
The medical officer sat beside me said: "This man is a tug for the coffin shop. Whenever there is someone dying, he will inform the coffin shop and be rewarded."
One day, an old man was dying of a terminal lung cancer. As he was gasping for air, Ah Kwai was again observing at the window. As he thought the moment was right, he turned and rushed to a nearby public phone booth to inform the coffin shop operator.
At the moment, Ah Kwai ran into someone. He paused and noticed the dying man was standing in front of him. He was so shocked and shouted out: "Kwai! Kwai!".
He sped away leaving the old man looked puzzled at the ground. He came to visit the dying old man in the ward, his identical twin brother.
