He & She III

Chapter 3

"For two long years, my dad and grandpa has given me the shoulders. The only one who cared about me is my mother. For that two years, she has always encourage me and telling me to perfect my skills."

He took another sip of his tea, rocking slowing in his cane woven rocking chair...

The cool breeze raise again, clearing the small gathering of clouds in front of the moon...

"During this time, a friend of my father, a Dim Sum maker, has moved to the same town as us. He and my father went way back. They were good friends who knew each other when they were kids. My father has always told me about him. One of the best if not the best Dim Sum maker..."

"He has a daughter, who is around the same age as me. She has also inherited her father's art in Dim Sum making. According to the locals who frequent their shop, her skills can be comparable to her father. Not only was she good in Dim Sum, rumors said that she was very good in cooking too! I never got the chance to see her as I was cooped up in the house everyday, trying to perfect my skills in noodle making.

Her father came by every evening to enjoy the serenity of the night. And everytime, he bought her daughter along. It was at one of these nights that my father had a craving for Dim Sum and her father craved for noodles.

The two of them then decided to use our kitchen for the preparation of a feast. When they came to the kitchen, the both of them saw me working hard on my noodle making skills. Her father was surprised and my father, upon seeing how hard I work, broke into a fleeting smile. Although its short, but its a long time since I have seen any signs of acknowledgement from him.

Her father, at one look, knew that I'm his son. My father smiled at him beaming with pride, nodded at him. Her father walked to the noodle making table and fondled with the dough that I have been kneading. After doing that, he picked up the noodles that I had pulled and fiddle around with it.

My father was looking very attentive at what her father was doing. But there was no expression on his face that portray anything else. It was a look of calm, with a bit of pride and proudness beaming behind it.

Her father lifted an eyebrow, stole a glance at me and looked at my father.

I stopped whatever I was doing and wait for her father's verdict. Whatever that comes out from that mouth of his, meant more than the words of my father. It was the only time I could redeem myself."

'Did you or your son make this noodle?'

"My father broke into a smile, and asked him, 'Whose hands were covered with flour?' "

He broke into a hearty smile, continued sipping his tea and rocking in his cane woven rock chair...

"Her father blinked twice, looked at me, then to my father. Slowly, he lowered the noodles that was in his hand on to the noodle making table. He then told my father that he won't be making any Dim Sum that night.
My father, without batting an eyelid, told him that he won't be making any noodles too.

The two of them were staring at each other with me in between, without a sound. I stood in the center not knowing what to do. I looked at her father, then to my father. Her father then suddenly whispered... He said that his daughter will be the one making Dim Sum that night.

My dad, broke into a smile, and told him that I will be making noodles that night instead of he, himself.

My jaw dropped upon hearing his words. I thought this day will never come. The acknowledgment from my father of my noodle making skills."

He heaved a sigh, smiling and shaking his head. The tea in his cup has finished.

'Lou Dao, (father in Cantonese) let me filled it up for you...'

The gentle and melodious voice which flow out of nowhere belongs to my Aunt.

My grandpa smiled, nodded his head while holding out the tea cup to her.

The moon shone brightly, illuminating the living room. It was then I realized that everyone has been sitting in one of the corners listening to the story.

It was the story that they too, had never heard before. It was a part of life that has been securely kept away from them. A part of their father's life, a part of my grand father's life...

The restless breeze raised once again, rustling my grand father's snowy white hair...

"Her father called her into the kitchen. She came in, her steps soft and soundless. She looked like a piece of white jade. So flawless, so fair, so gentle. Her hair was long and flowing, reflecting the light of the candle burning away in a corner of the room.

Let's get started, shall we? Her father said"


To be continued