Water on the road

They reached Kuantan at six and Kuala Terengganu by lunch. Philip had already won back an hour.

But north of Terengganu, the rain became torrential. It fell so hard that the windows turned white. Near the Kelantan border, the bus stopped. Brown water covered the road.

"No more buses today," said the driver.

They were stranded at a small bus stop with twenty other people.

Then Pathy saw a girl helping her grandmother through the water. The old woman was frail. She could hardly stand, and her thin legs shook.

A police officer shouted, "Everyone must evacuate! Leave now and go to the school on the hill!"

Philip looked at his watch. If they helped, they could lose hours, and the bet. It was a real dilemma, but it lasted only a second.

He took the grandmother's bag. Pathy held her arm. Together with the girl, whose name was Aida, they walked slowly up the hill. The water reached their knees, and the road was hazardous: there were holes that nobody could see.

At the school, volunteers gave them dry clothes and tea. The grandmother held Philip's hand. "Thank you, child."

Fiza was there too. She had followed them to catch a liar. Instead, she had seen compassion: a boy who stopped his race to help a stranger.

The next morning they reached Kota Bharu, weary but safe. Philip, serene as always, opened his notebook.

"Seven hours behind," he said. "We need a miracle."