The cabbage had another job.
Another Job
Lin had sold carrots, spring onions, and three radishes that morning.
By noon, she had found a use for one of her cabbages.
She loosened a large outer leaf, sat down beside her cart, and waved it gently in front of her face. The leaf made a pleasant breeze. It also lifted a smaller leaf from the basket at her feet.
“That one isn’t for you,” she told it.
The small leaf settled beside her shoe.
Lin picked it up and tucked it back into the basket. Then she leaned against the cart and closed her eyes.
“Excuse me,” someone said.
Lin opened one eye. A woman stood beside the cart with an empty basket over her arm.
“I’m looking for a large leaf,” she said.
Lin sat up. “For soup?”
“For cakes.”
Lin looked at the basket, then at the leaf in her hand.
“I’m taking some cakes to my neighbour,” the woman explained. “I thought a broad leaf would make a good lining.”
“Of course.” Lin set down her cabbage fan and stood. “Let’s find you one.”
The Largest Leaf
The woman’s name was Mei. She followed Lin around the cart while Lin inspected the cabbages.
“This one is broad,” Lin said, lifting a leaf.
“It might be a little small for the basket.”
Lin held it above the opening. The leaf covered half the bottom.
“We could use two,” she suggested.
Mei looked at the leaf Lin had set on the stool.
“That one might do.”
Lin looked at it too. It was the largest leaf on the cart, and it had made an excellent breeze.
“It might,” she said.
She picked it up and held it above Mei’s basket. The leaf was wide enough to cover the bottom, with room to turn up at the sides.
“That’s just right,” Mei said.
Lin noticed a small tear along one edge. She turned the leaf so the tear faced her.
“Nearly right,” she said.
Before Mei could look closer, Lin set the leaf back on the stool.
“Let me find something to wrap it in.”
She took a piece of paper from beneath the cart and waved it once to see if it would make a suitable fan. It folded neatly in the middle and sent almost no air towards her face.
Mei watched.
“Is it hot?” she asked.
“Not when I’m sitting down.”
Lin unfolded the paper. It folded again.
“Is it hot when you’re standing?” Mei asked.
“A little.”
A Better One
Mei placed her basket on the cart.
“I’m not in a hurry,” she said. “Shall we look together?”
Lin was glad to accept. She had been trying to decide whether she could sell the leaf and still catch enough breeze with a radish top.
They examined another cabbage. Mei lifted a leaf, but it came away with a hole near the middle.
“That one might let the cake crumbs through,” she said.
Lin held up a second leaf. Its edge was firm, but it was narrow.
“Two of those might still do,” Mei said.
They laid both in the basket. One slid across the other.
“We’d need something to keep them from moving,” Lin said.
She reached for the lid of a nearby basket and held it over the leaves.
“Perhaps this?”
Mei looked at it.
“If we put the lid inside my basket, what will cover the cakes?”
Lin lowered it. “You’re right. The lid has a job already.”
“So does that leaf,” Mei said, glancing at the stool.
Lin smiled. “It’s very good at it.”
Together, they loosened one more leaf from the largest cabbage. It was almost as broad as Lin’s fan, with no tear along the edge.
Mei laid it in her basket. It covered the bottom and curved gently up both sides.
“That’s the one,” she said.
Lin wrapped the stem in paper and named a price. Mei paid her, then adjusted the leaf once more.
“There should be room for all the cakes,” she said.
“How many are you taking?”
“Six. Unless my neighbour’s grandson comes to the door.”
“Then how many?”
“Five. He usually helps me carry them in.”
A Real Breeze
Mei lifted the basket and stepped away from the cart.
Lin returned to her stool and picked up the torn leaf. She gave it a small wave. The little leaf in the basket stayed where it was.
“Thank you for waiting,” Lin said.
“Thank you for finding the right one.”
A breeze came down the street. It lifted the paper Lin had left on the cart and carried it towards the road.
Lin stood quickly, holding her cabbage leaf in one hand and reaching for the paper with the other. Mei returned and caught the far corner beneath her basket.
Between them, they flattened it on the cart.
“There,” Mei said.
Lin set a carrot on one corner and a radish on the other.
“Will those hold it?”
“They should, unless someone buys the carrot.”
“I’ll have to find it another job before then.”
Mei picked up her basket. Lin lifted the cabbage leaf to wave goodbye, then remembered she was still holding the radish.
She waved the leaf anyway.
The breeze caught its torn edge and flicked it gently against her cheek.
Mei laughed.
“It seems to be thanking you too,” she said.
“For what?”
“For keeping it.”
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