1996.

Huey lamented the rain. Bad for business. On days with really heavy rain, the food center was likely to flood too. The drains were shallow and often clogged with rubbish. The customers seated at the open air tables dashed frantically for shelter. Plates of half eaten food were left abandoned on wet tables.

Huey rushed to help out with the extension of the rain rafters. Operated manually by a pulley system, the heavy canvas rafters inched unsteadily out into the rainfall. Huey pulled grimly at the rope to extend the rafters. More covered tables meant more customers.

Siew continued to cook amidst the gloom of the falling rain. The cling clang of her spatulas in odd rhythm with the sound of splashing raindrops. A queue of five customers waited patiently in single file for their takeaway packets of oyster omelette. There were another four orders to be prepared for customers scattered around the food center by the rain. People walked slowly along the narrow sheltered corridor in front of her stall. Desperate to avoid the rain. Careful due to the wet floor.

Hock at the stall to her right greeted customers old and new lustily. A queue of about ten customers waited patiently for him to cut up generous portions of roasted meat, char siew or duck. There always seemed to be a queue at Hock’s stall.

Siew passed a three dollar portion of oyster omelette to Huey. Taking the dish and a sauce plate of chili sauce, Huey set off in search of the customer who ordered it. She limped slightly as she walked and placed more weight on her right leg. When the pain in Huey’s left leg acted up, they switched roles and Huey would take over the cooking.

“Can have two packets of chili?”

Siew looked up and saw a plump young boy in t-shirt and shorts accompanied by his mother. Siew saw that the boy’s order was only for three dollars. She packed the order in a styrofoam box and placed it in a plastic bag with one packet of chili sauce.

The boy checked the plastic bag carefully as his mother paid for the order.

“Only one packet of chili. Can have another packet?”

Siew looked at the boy. She exchanged looks with Huey who had returned to the stall. Grudgingly, Siew handed over another packet of chili sauce. Huey was not as subtle.

“Chili not free, you know. Three dollars next time cannot take two packets.”

The boy kept quiet at the accusation. Gripping his order, he retreated slightly behind his mother. His mother apologized and promised that they would order a larger portion next time. The boy and his mother turned towards the sugarcane juice stall and made their retreat.

“These people. Order three dollar, want two packet chili. Chili free ah.”

Siew smiled. She could always depend on Huey to speak up for her. She took a new order and added another pencil stroke to her jotter book. She smiled again as she looked at the tally for oyster omelette sales for the day.