Water Chestnut and Sugarcane in the Summer Pot
A neighbor arrived with a dented pot and a length of sugarcane wrapped in newspaper. I cleared the kitchen table while she tipped water chestnuts into the sink and asked for the heavier knife.
The pot brought across the landing
The neighbor had already washed the pot at home. She set it on my stove, rolled up her sleeves, and peeled the water chestnuts over a bowl so the brown skins stayed together. The sugarcane sections were harder work; she steadied them while I moved the cups out of reach.
Our kitchens shared the task because her burner was occupied. She knew which knife she wanted and where I kept the newspaper for peelings. The pale pieces entered the pot while conversation moved between both doorways.
A southern summer shelf
Lotus-root water used whatever end remained from dinner. Sour-plum drink began with dark packets from the shop, while mung beans came from the grain bin. Water chestnut and sugarcane required two sets of hands before the lid went on.
I watched the neighbor save several clean sugarcane sections for the child waiting on the landing. The rest stayed in the pot, visible through the pale liquid.
The pot returned next door
When the kitchen had cooled, she poured part of the drink into my jar and carried the dented pot home. I wrapped the handle with a cloth so it would not mark her palm.
The peeled skins remained in one newspaper bundle by the sink. The borrowed knife was washed, dried, and returned to its slot.