Motioning toward the vacant place, one of three, the usual out-sweeping open hand shown. Of course. Be my guest. Words to the effect may have come simultaneously.
Diagonally opposite, not in each other's way, not even with the bag, pens, book and papers. Plenty room. Saved a couple taking up, or even a threesome. Three young chaps had eyed the possibility a few minutes earlier. That was the reason the bag was lifted from the chair and plonked on the table.
Despite having assumed the chair fifteen minutes later, there appeared a teh tarik in front of the chap immediately, seemingly without an order having been placed.
Not especially remarkable, but relevant to what follows.
Somehow too a quart of the drink had been consumed before the glass itself was noticed. As the next few minutes would prove, cat was the impatient sort.
Shortly the watch on his wrist was indicated, then twice more for good measure.
Many of the Indian and Bangla lads did not wear watches. Watches were redundant nowadays. Not in this case.
Desker - Serangoon corner, Usman Restaurant, heart of Little India.
Pakistani and North Indian predominating hereabout. A large mosque on the other side of the road up toward Mustafa, the locally famous department store that was truly a wonder, for those unused to the Sub-Continent especially.
Bangla Park was the first side street behind (Lembu Road). A park of trees and paving, without grass.
Opposite on Serangoon Road an open field awaiting development offered greenery and often drew the lads. Bangla Park, as the little square was informally called, drew many more, largely because of the provisions stores on the other side. Most of the Bangladeshi lads gathered beneath the trees; another long row formed along the pavement on Lembu Road to watch the TV serials and music videos from home that the shop screens turned outward to the park.
Rather surprising how overwhelmingly Sub-Continental. Chinese passersby were very sporadic, almost out numbered by Westerners. At Usman on the corner delightful naan and vegetable dips, four dollars. Throw in teh makes five.
For no apparent reason, after a few more sips of his tea, the chap opposite took the opportunity at a moment of eye-catch to state the position:
Mouth, tongue—zipped.
The hand may have passed over his ears too.
This latter needed to be established presently. All very rapid. Flash, slash, chop—like a practiced fencer.
There had been no real attempt at communication beyond the initial offer of the table when the enquiry had been put. Perhaps there had been a casting of glance once or twice. Nothing specific. As usual, pen and paper preoccupied.
For some unknown reason the man had thought it necessary to state his case, make a clean breast of it. The abruptness more than anything caused imbalance.
Nevertheless, position could be comprehended without difficulty.
— Oh, I see. Understood. Never you mind.
Man had turned aside after the first part of the response. Anything further was pointless.
The question whether there was any hearing hung uncertainly. Something might have been ventured, something found in the case of hearing. A pen tap at one point on the table pretty much established the case.
The matter hung a little longer, until the chap enquired with a different gesture at the mouth for drink.
There he sat over his teh, arrived well after his companion. Half through himself, and still nothing on the other side.
....It's OK. Fine. No hurry. Occupied with this pen and paper.
Lip reading probably useless in this instance. Within another minute or minute and half—more jitter of leg—another gesture in the same direction, this time indicating the watch. Time gone by.
The leg jittering was never actually at any point visible. More the referred up through the torso. Under the table it was hammer and tong.
Still no service.
Now there came an attempt to hail the waiter. This led to the direct enquiry: — The ear, give anything?
If there had been hearing something more might have been managed, some lip-rounded pouting. Something comradely found.
Rapid, flashing strokes. Zip again for the mouth. Ears: nothing there either. Thumbs down for full-stop.
All rapid.
Effective communication.
Again the concentration had been on the face. The waving hands only imperfectly sighted. Rising, swinging elbows, when normally the elbows played no role in conventional discourse.
It was the universal Bummer that did it, that established the case conclusively.
Thumb down. Deaf as well as mute.
The face had shown something, but it passed too quickly. A kind of momentary blanching. Everything too rapid. All the eye contact slid rapidly too.
The chap was not seeking any kind of communication. The position was unavailing however you looked at it. A white man had freely granted a seat at table. The disability had been passed over without flinching. Unlikely that could be topped with anything further or better.
Waiter successfully drawn without words. Arm sweeping across the diagonal.
No problem. Easily done. Don't mention it. Small service performed.
The watch again now, tapped this time. Without calling them here, without insisting, especially during evening rush, you could whistle for your supper.
Didn't want anything himself, thanks all the same. Anticipated he might be asked.
(At the Muslim eateries particularly one did not sit before another, even a stranger, even one at the next table who has caught your eye, without the polite invitation. Awkward Westerners could be hopelessly caught out.)
More than half through his teh. Only stopped for that, must away directly.
As good as his word, quick as a flash and leaving no time or opportunity for goodbye. Inch at the bottom of his cup. Perhaps he had cut the air again in single strike.
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