13 Mink Street Novel Chapter 36: A Warmhearted Dinner

Chapter 36: A Warmhearted Dinner

People who cook usually hate clearing the table. It’s much like the satisfaction of feeding a small animal, as there is no desire to clean the cage afterward.

Fortunately, Karon did not have to deal with the dishes; Aunt Winnie and Aunt Mary took care of them.

On the second floor, Karon poured himself a glass of water and dropped in two ice cubes before carrying it up to the third floor.

He intended to take a nap, but unfortunately, when he opened his bedroom door, he found Mina, Sara, and Lent crowded around his desk doing howork.

There went his afternoon’s rest.

As a grown man, he could not very well chase children away from their howork just so that he could sleep.

Not only did he lose his nap, he also ended up tutoring Mina and Sara in physics, at Mina’s request. It was obvious Mina was doing well in school. It was no wonder that Aunt Mary did not want her daughter to stay and join the family business. From a purely practical standpoint, if Mina inherited Aunt Mary’s embalming skills, she would be able to live comfortably, but when circumstances allowed it, life should offer more choices.

Sara, on the other hand, was no better than average. Her comprehension was ordinary, and her grades likely reflected the sa.

Karon had already noticed Sara’s clothes; They were new, to the point that they did not quite fit her.

That detail stirred sothing within him. In his last life, when his family’s circumstances had been modest, he had owned “visiting clothes,” which had been reserved solely for visits to relatives’ hos.

The girl’s stationery told the sa story, given that it was noticeably poorer quality than what Mina and Lent used.

Yet another detail stood out: every ti Karon spoke, Sara would imdiately shift her entire body to face him. A shy girl should not beco so outgoing so quickly, to the point that she actively sought eye contact.

Later, while explaining a problem, Karon had realized the reason; Sara seed to be rather hard of hearing in her right ear. Whenever soone spoke softly in the direction of her right ear, she was unable to make out what was said. That was why, whenever she noticed that Karon was speaking, she would turn her head to face him.

Once they were done, Karon stretched and leaned back against the bed.

“Karon, are you tired?” Mina asked.

“I’m fine.” She stood up, walked over, and began massaging Karon’s shoulders.

Sara was initially a bit shy, but she soon also approached and started to knead his legs.

Lent smiled as he watched from the side. Even though Karon had slapped him very recently, Lent could not bring himself to truly hate his cousin, nor even to feel jealous. Much like his father, Lent did not really consider Karon to be a cousin or even a brother. The young man felt more like an elder, such as an uncle.

“Uh, don’t...” Karon began. He did not want to enjoy this kind of “landlord comfort.” If his cousins were younger, he would not mind bribing them with a bit of pocket money or candy to run errands for him or to pound his legs. Most people had done sothing like that at so point in ti.

However, Mina was not a child, and there was even her classmate, whom he did not know well.

Surprisingly, Karon discovered that Sara’s technique was quite professional, the force of her hands steady and confident. For a mont, he did not want to stop her.

Still, in the end, reason won. Karon sat back up and said, “Mina, Sara, you’re grown now, and as young ladies, you need to rember to keep your distance from n.”

“But Karon, you aren’t so stranger,” Mina stated matter-of-factly.

Even Sara nodded in agreent.

“It’s still not appropriate.” Karon patted Mina’s head.

Sara watched as her classmate received a pat, a hint of envy flashing in her eyes. Seeing that, Karon reached out and patted her head, too.

Just as n have little resistance to beautiful won, won have little resistance to handso n. Such effortless affection might feel like a stroke of luck to normal people, yet to a select few, it was more like cabbages by the roadside, there for the taking. Most people simply never get to feel what that is like.

“Sara, do you usually give massages to your family at ho?” Karon asked curiously.

“Yes. I massage my dad’s leg every day.”

“Very dutiful.”

Karon left the bedroom, but stopped at the bay window to push it open. Pu’er, who had been napping there, shifted about in annoyance.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The wind outside had a cold bite to it, so Karon turned sideways to reduce how much he was exposed to it.

At that mont, Tiz erged from his study. Karon smiled at him.

“The thermos is empty,” Tiz said.

Karon imdiately called into the bedroom, “Mina, help Grandpa fill his thermos!”

“Okay.” She obediently ca out, took the bottle from Tiz, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Tiz did not comnt on Karon “slacking off,” but simply stated, “It’s the fifteenth.”

“Yes. Their reservation lasts until the seventeenth, so two more days. Really, it’s just one,” Karon replied. The seventeenth was the final day, and would need to be the wake. That ant that the latest that the bodies could be delivered was the sixteenth, tomorrow. Otherwise, there would simply not be enough ti for the embalming process.

If the bodies were delivered on the morning of the seventeenth, it would be difficult to hold a proper wake, unless it was only wanted as a brief formality.

The problem was, too much had already been paid for that. Such a generous client would not want a rough, rushed funeral. “Mason has already accepted a welfare case for the eighteenth.”

This had been done to protect themselves from the client delivering the bodies on the seventeenth, or even on the eighteenth. Welfare cases were flexible, much like Jeff’s had been. The three requisite photos had been scheduled for after the “deadline” so that once it passed, they could negotiate from a better position.

Of course, if the client was late by a day or two, the family would still help, out of respect for the deposit already paid, but the requirents and details would be easier for them to control.

“Mm.” Tiz nodded. After accepting the thermos of hot water from Mina, he returned to his study.

It was then that Karon noticed it had started raining outside. He ground out his cigarette on the windowsill. Pu’er stared at the tiny black scorch mark that had appeared right where she liked to sleep, and then jabbed at it with a paw, clearly offended. ow! ow! ow!

Karon reached over and petted her, treating her like an ordinary cat.

“Karon, I’m heading ho,” Sara said as she ca out of the bedroom with her schoolbag.

“Who’s picking you up?” Karon asked.

“I’m taking the tram,” Sara replied. The tram stop was not on Mink Street, which ant that she needed to walk a ways.

“I’ll walk Sara to the stop,” Mina announced, grabbing an umbrella.

“Huh. Where do you live, Sara?” Karon asked.

“The East District, on Miner Street.”

The East District was Roja City’s industrial zone. In addition to the factories, there were mostly old workers’ dormitory blocks. Living in a dormitory block was already considered decent living. Many of the workers and later migrants were only able to build shacks around those buildings, which had created slums.

A few years before, a mayor had pushed an improvent plan for the East District slums. He had not been able to pull off a full renovation, but had managed to deliver water and electricity to everyone, which had at least provided the bare necessities.

Miner Street was a famous slum street in the East District. It had many small shops, as well as a flea market that was well known throughout Roja City.

“Then I’ll drive you ho. Mina, go ask your dad for the keys.”

“Yay, thanks.” Mina quickly returned with Mason’s keys. “Dad asked if you are even able to drive, but Mom said you’re really good at it.”

Aunt Mary was referring to the ti she and Mrs. Hughes had gotten drunk and Karon had driven them ho.

“Get in.” This was Karon’s first ti in the new hearse. The driver’s seat was wider, and the back had a recessed rectangular bay specifically for a coffin. Along both sides were bench seats, like on a bus.

He turned over the engine and started driving towards Miner Street.

Because the original “Karon” had loved to buy secondhand comics and novels at the flea market, Karon knew exactly where the street was.

“Hehe, Sara, our car is roomy, right?” Mina asked.

“Mm!” Sara nodded. “You could even lie down and sleep.”

Karon laughed as he drove. “You don’t want to be lying down in this car.”

Halfway there, they encountered road work that forced Karon to back up and take a detour. It took so ti; The new hearse was large and hard to maneuver.

By the ti they reached Miner Street, it was already five in the afternoon.

“Mom!” Sara spotted her mother.

Karon found an open spot nearby and parked the car. Mina got out with Sara, and a mont later, both girls returned to the driver’s window. “Big Brother, Sara’s mom’s inviting us to visit.”

“Yes, Big Brother. My mom’s milk tea is really good!”

Karon had wanted to refuse. He preferred to drive straight back ho, but the hope in Sara’s eyes and the nervous, hesitant woman standing nearby forced him to nod. “Okay.”

***

Sara’s ho was far down Miner Street. The rain left puddles everywhere. In so places, bricks had been laid across the water, leaving footsteps for people to use to cross the puddles.

The eaves were low, forcing people to bend over to enter the house. Inside were just two rooms, one for Sara’s parents, and the other for her and her grandmother.

The cooking was done outside on a small brick stove that had a sheet of tin half-covering it. Still, the ho was clean, and there were even a few wildflowers in a vase.

“Grandma, I brought my classmate and her brother ho to visit.”

“Good, good.” The grandmother was old, but her hair was neatly kept. She sat and smiling at Mina and Karon.

“Hey, did I hear Sara brought classmates ho?” a man’s voice called from outside.

He entered on a crutch, limping. There was a half-burnt cigarette in his hand, but when he stepped in and his eyes made out Mina and Karon, he imdiately tossed the cigarette back outside.

“Hello, Uncle,” Mina said.

“Hello.”

“Hello, I’m Mina’s brother, Karon.” Karon held out his hand. It was a habit. He had never treated himself as a child, and neither had his family, so he never even bothered pretending while at ho.

The man paused, but still accepted the handshake. “Hello. You can call

Lot. The neighbors call

Crippled Lot.”

Lot’s hand was rough and thick with calluses. One leg of his pants hung empty beside the crutch.

When entering the house, Karon had noticed a number of tires and strips of cut rubber in the yard, as well as a number of simple tools. Lot used scrap tires to make “sandals,” which he sold to earn a bit of money.

As for Sara’s mother, Sara had ntioned during the car ride over that the woman worked at a nearby cotton mill, though it was currently the off season, so there were not many shifts.

“Please sit, please sit.” Sara carried over so stools so that Karon and Mina could sit down.

“My dear, I sll sothing nice. Are you boiling milk tea?” Lot called out dramatically.

“Yes, it’s ready.” Sara’s mother soon ca in, holding several cups under a pot lid. The cups were filled with pale milk tea.

The cups placed before Karon and Mina were full, while the cups in front of Sara and her grandmother were only half full. Lot’s cup had just a thin layer.

Sara’s mother smiled and said, “I’ll go prepare dinner. Sara told

about the rich food you served her today. Thank you.”

“Yes, Mom! Karon’s cooking is amazing! I’ve never eaten food like that before. Still, I think Mom’s cooking is just as amazing as Karon’s.”

Sara’s mother lowered her head to kiss Sara’s forehead, smiling. “Don’t worry. Mom won’t disappoint you.”

Then, as if afraid Karon would refuse to stay for dinner, the woman added, “Please do us the honor of staying. Consider it our thanks for how you treated Sara.”

Lot also chid in, “Of course. You’re classmates and friends, so that’s just how it is. Today you co to my ho and there’s a hot al, tomorrow I go to yours and there’s a hot al there, too. Right, Mr. Karon?”

Lot felt that while the young man looked quite youthful, he carried himself in a composed and proper manner, like an administrative civil servant, which had led to Lot instinctively adding “Mr.” to Karon’s na

“Then I’ll look forward to it,” Karon said.

Mina lifted her cup and took a sip of milk tea.

“How is it, Mina?” Sara asked.

“It’s good.”

Karon also took a sip, and forced down the instinctive urge to frown. The milk tea tasted like one of the malted milk powders from his childhood, with extra sugar thrown in. It was cloyingly sweet. He managed two more big gulps before he set the cup down and smiled. “It’s very good.”

“Hahaha, right?” Lot looked delighted. He lifted his own cup and finished the small bit in it, letting it linger for a ti. When he put the cup back down, a white mustache clung to his lip, which he licked away.

“Uncle Lot, care for a smoke?” Karon asked, taking out his cigarettes.

His current cravings were light, wanting no more than two or three a day. He also kept cigarettes on him for work and social occasions, as there were tis when his responsibilities with the family business overlapped with Mason’s.

Morf Gold Fra, at seventy rupi a pack, were even pricier than what he was accustod to smoking. Karon pulled one out and offered it to Lot, who accepted it with both hands. Karon then took out his lighter to light the cigarette for the old man, but Lot glanced at his mother sitting at the table.

She smiled. “Go on, have a smoke. Keep Mr. Karon company.”

Karon understood, and said, “Let’s smoke outside.”

“Okay, okay.”

Karon moved to fetch Lot’s crutch, but the man grabbed it first and pushed himself up. “This way, please.”

They went outside. Lot pulled out a matchbox, struck one, and shielded the fla with his left hand while leaning towards Karon.

Such an offer could not be refused. A match’s fla died quickly.

Karon smiled apologetically, put a cigarette between his lips, leaned forward, and lit it. After lighting Karon’s, Lot brought the match back to light his own cigarette. The fla nearly burned his fingers before he shook it out with a hiss.

“Mr. Karon, your family runs a funeral ho?” Lot asked, then added, “I heard that from Mina.”

“Yes, Uncle Lot.” Karon pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Please send business our way.”

“Around here, whenever soone dies, they go straight to the crematorium. Who would pay for a wake?” Despite saying that, after taking the card, the man carefully tucked it into his breast pocket.

“Is business good these days?” Lot asked. No matter their backgrounds, no matter the environnt, no matter their status, whenever two n lit cigarettes together, their conversation would almost always take this particular turn.

“It’s not been very busy,” Karon replied.

The client who had paid one hundred thousand rupi as a deposit had still not shown up. The family could not accept other work during the four days that had been reserved, which left them idle.

“Mm, sa for ,” Lot said, nodding. During the sumr, his tire sandals sold decently enough; There were people who liked cheap shoes. However, it was currently winter, and hardly anyone bought sandals during that season.

“It’ll get better,” Karon said. “Business always has slow seasons and busy seasons.”

Lot agreed strongly. “Yes, yes. You are absolutely right, Mr. Karon. Everything will get better.”

Lot loved this kind of talk. Even though a pair of his tire slippers sold for just two rupi, and he knew that even one job at Karon’s place of work likely equaled an entire year of his own inco, if not more, Lot still enjoyed standing beside Karon and talking about slow seasons and busy seasons.

Look at us. We’re both businessn.

Karon’s cigarette burned down halfway, and he nearly flicked it to the ground out of habit. He hesitated, and kept a hold of it.

Lot waited until his cigarette burned down to almost the filter. He took a hard last drag, and then dropped it to the ground. Karon followed suit and dropped his own.

Lot was an experienced smoker. He smacked his lips and reached for his own cigarettes, but hesitated after grabbing the pack, though he still eventually brought it out. Wild Wolf, two rupi a pack.

He offered one to Karon. Taking it, Karon lit Lot’s own cigarette with his lighter. Only then did Lot smile.

Now that he was smoking his own cigarettes, the man seed to lose the stiffness he had shown while smoking the Morf Gold Fra. He said, “I lost this leg back while working in a factory. There was an accident, and it was amputated. The factory only paid a little, not enough to even cover the dical fees. I had to ask Sigran for help. Do you know Mr. Sigran?”

“I think I’ve heard his na.” Karon thought back to the papers. “The mayor?”

“Yes, the mayor. Early on in his career, he was a councilman for our East District. He’s our pride, one of our own.” Lot praised the old mayor again and again, particularly using the phrase “one of our own.”

“Sigran helped

talk to the factory owner. Only after that did they pay

a bit more. It wasn’t much, but I was satisfied with it. It at least covered my dical bills with a little left over.” He sighed, continuing, “A few days ago, so sick co-workers filed a suit at city hall, but lost. The union organized a march and notified , so I went along. I don’t work in the factory anymore, but I’m still union! Mr. Karon, sotis you have to show those factory bosses the strength of unity, or else they won’t treat us like people!”

“Yes,” Karon agreed. “You’re right.”

“I was even chosen as one of the march representatives. I walked in the first row along with the injured, the other disabled, and the sick. I thought we were there to show the East District’s factory bosses our power. I didn’t expect the union would bring along banners and flags that demanded accountability from Sigran. A lot of the workers didn’t like that.

“Let’s be honest, who brought water and electricity to Miner Street a few years back? Sigran. I heard next year they’ll build sewers here too, so that when it rains, we won’t have to ‘dance’ outside anymore.

“Sigran ca out and cald us down. When he showed up, we all stopped. A few of the union leaders tried to get us chanting, but we just ignored them. Sigran promised us that a portion of the taxes from East District will be set aside to be used as subsidies for the disabled and permanently ill workers. It won’t be much, but we’re already satisfied with that. It ans that, starting next month, I’ll get two hundred rupi a month.

“After that, we all shouted Sigran’s na together.” As Lot spoke, his eyes shone. “Sigran will always be one of our own. The East District’s mayor. Hah!”

Karon nodded.

“Mr. Karon, do you support any particular candidates?” Lot asked.

“No. I don’t like getting involved in politics.”

“I don’t like it much either, but if only the bosses would treat workers like people.” Lot took a deep breath and exhaled a smoke ring. “Who wants to drag their exhausted body out to listen to election speeches after work?”

“True,” Karon agreed.

“Dinner’s ready, Dad, Karon,” Sara called.

“Alright, let’s see what your dear mother prepared tonight,” Lot said.

Dinner was generous. Everyone had a plate of noodles that appeared to be similar to a braised noodle dish, mixed with vegetables and a sauce. There were at cubes visible on Karon and Mina’s plates that were lacking on the others.

Everyone also had bread. Karon and Mina’s bread had cream, while the others’ bread was dark.

Aside from that, there was also a small plate of smoked at, a small plate of sausages, and a large bowl of pickled cucumbers.

The smoked at and sausages were placed closer to Karon and Mina, while the pickles were placed near Lot’s family.

“Mom, where’s the fried chicken?” Sara asked curiously. She had wanted to treat her best friend and her brother to fried chicken.

Sara’s mother smiled. “I’m sorry, Sara, but we couldn’t get any today.”

Sara looked at Mina, visibly disappointed. “That’s a sha. It’s really fragrant. I’ll invite you over again so that you can try it.”

“Okay.” Mina smiled and nodded.

The original Karon had seen several stalls selling fried chicken in the market and once even bought so out of curiosity. It had tasted fine.

Later, he had learned that the at was scraps collected from restaurants and garbage heaps, then deep-fried in oil. The original Karon had vomited for half the night and had even developed a fever the next day.

From those mories, it seed likely that the “fried chicken” Sara referred to was that sa kind of at. Like Lot’s tire slippers, it was sothing only popular on Miner Street in the East District.

Sara’s mother had lied about not being able to buy the chicken because she did not want to serve sothing so unclean to guests.

They started eating. The noodles were genuinely tasty. The sauce was well balanced, and the noodles were springy and satisfying to chew. It would be just perfect with garlic.

Without garlic, the pickled cucumbers would do. Karon leaned forward, took a pickle, and bit down. Such sharp sourness!

He hurried to get a bite of noodles to cut the tang of the pickle, and a strange, addictive satisfaction ford.

“Mr. Karon, do you drink?” Lot asked.

“No. I drove here.”

Lot looked puzzled. “You can’t drink if you drive?”

Still, since it was clear that Karon wouldn’t have a drink, Lot did not open any alcohol. Also, upon seeing that Karon liked the pickles, Lot pushed the bowl closer to him.

After finishing the noodles, Karon picked up his bread and used it to mop up the remaining sauce.

The cream caused the bread to taste worse to him. In Karon’s book, fruit or cream as part of a main course just ruined the eating experience. Dessert should separate, a different matter entirely.

He finished his plate and polished it clean. When Sara’s mother tried to add more smoked at and sausage to his plate with a fork, Karon raised a hand to refuse. He patted his stomach with a smile. “I really can’t eat anymore. I’m completely full.”

Sara’s grandmother smiled. “Make sure you eat your fill. Don’t be shy.”

“I’m not being shy. It was truly delicious,” Karon said, and he ant it. A cook’s true skill was revealed when making sothing refined out of simple ingredients. Sara’s mother was a genuinely good cook.

Mina finished her food as well. She patted her stomach and told Sara, “Sara, your mom cooks just as well as my cousin.”

“Hehe, right?” Sara looked delighted as she glanced at her mother.

By the ti they had finished eating, it was completely dark outside. Karon said his goodbyes and stood to leave with Mina. Sara’s grandmother also stood, saying, “Co, let’s see our guests off. They brought Sara back ho.”

The old lady struggled to move, needing Sara to support her. Lot leaned on his crutch, and yet the family still walked the cousins to where Karon had parked the car.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Karon said. He then addressed Sara, “Co play at our house with Mina more often.”

“You co back, too,” the old lady said with a smile.

Karon sat in the driver’s seat. Right after he turned over the engine, he saw Sara’s mother pass a plastic container through the window. It was filled with pickled cucumbers. “They seed to suit your taste. Take these ho to let your family try them too.”

“Thank you, madam,” Karon said. He did not refuse, and accepted the container.

Lot stood close, and he gently bumped his wife while softly imitating Karon’s tone, “‘Thank you, madam.’ Hehe. Madam! Did you hear that? He called you madam!”

Sara’s mother blushed and ignored him.

“Bye-bye!” Mina called through the window.

“Bye.”

Karon drove the hearse toward the end of the street. Lot’s family still stood in front of their ho, watching the car leave. Karon glanced at them through the rearview mirror.

In the sparse, dim streetlights of Miner Street, Lot’s family looked like an old photograph that had been left out in the light for too long, all color slowly bleaching away.