Chapter 41: Lantern Lane

The grey sedan had stood on Harbour Street for two nights, then driven off on Saturday without a word.

Xiao Chen had written down the plate both times, and the captain's lab still had until Monday.

The nurse discharged the old man on Sunday morning.

He came out of the ward in borrowed slippers, complaining.

"I've been robbed of nine pillows," he said in the lift. "Nine."

"There were three," said Shen Yan.

"I counted differently."

They took a taxi to Lantern Lane.

The old man refused to sit on a bus for one more minute.

The night market had not yet opened.

Red Lantern Skewers stood at the corner in its faded awning, with the grill dark and the stools stacked.

Auntie was behind the counter with her sleeves rolled to the elbow.

She looked up and saw Shen Yan, and her whole face softened.

Then she saw the old man in the slippers, and it hardened again.

"Who's this?"

"A cook," said the old man. "Thirty years on a bulk ship."

"Which line?"

"The grain line, out of Pier Nine."

"That line closed."

"It was sold. I got off before it was sold."

Auntie looked him up and down.

"Can you hold a knife?"

"Give me one."

She handed him a cleaver and a side of lamb.

He turned it over, sniffed it, and began to cut.

His hands were slow for the first three slices. After that they were very fast.

Shen Yan stood in the doorway with his apron half tied and watched with enormous pleasure.

"He's good," he whispered.

"I know he's good," said Auntie. "I can see his hands."

The old man tasted a strip of raw lamb from the board and chewed it with narrowed eyes.

"Don't," said Auntie sharply.

"It wants salt."

"It's lamb. You don't taste lamb off a board."

"On my ship we did."

"On your ship everyone had food poisoning."

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