The Cup on the Counter
On Thursday morning, the man put a broken cup on the counter, but he kept his hand around it. Nina reached for it. He pulled it back a little. "I don't want you to mend it," he said. "I want a new one." Nina worked in a pottery shop with Leah, who owned the shop. For six months, Nina had made bowls and small plates. Now Leah had given her a shelf for her own cups. There were five on it, all white, with thin blue lines. Their handles were small and neat. Nina hoped to photograph them for her application to art college. She had already chosen the middle cup. Its blue line went all the way around without a break.
The man introduced himself as Mr Karim. His old cup was yellow, with a handle almost as large as the cup itself. A piece was missing from the rim, where his mouth would touch it. "My daughter says I must stop using it. She's right," he said. He opened his right hand on the counter. His fingers were thick, and two did not bend very far. Then he put two fingers through the handle and lifted the cup. "I can carry this one from the kitchen to my chair. Some mornings, I carry it back before I've finished my tea. I like watching the birds from the kitchen window." He set it down carefully. "The cup doesn't have to be yellow. The handle has to be wide."
Nina turned the old cup around. It was heavy, and its bottom was rough. She could make something much nicer. She took out a sheet of paper and drew a tall cup with a smooth blue line. Then she made the handle a little larger. "How soon do you need it?" she asked. "In three weeks, if you can. My daughter will visit then. I'd like to make her tea." Leah came over to look at the drawing. "This will be Nina's first order," she said. Nina tried to look calm. Mr Karim agreed to the usual price for one handmade cup. Leah wrote it on an order form, with the date. Mr Karim left the yellow cup with them. As he went out, Nina moved her best white cup to the front of the shelf.
A Good Photograph
That afternoon, Nina measured the yellow handle and wrote the numbers beside her drawing. She made a new cup from soft clay. Its sides rose straight, like a small tower. When she added a handle as wide as the yellow one, the cup looked strange to her. The handle seemed to pull it to one side. She pressed it closer to the cup. There was still more space than in any of her white cups. She imagined the new cup beside them in a photograph. The shape looked much better now. Before going home, she covered the wet cup so it would dry slowly. Mr Karim's measurements lay under her notebook.
The following week, Leah fired the cup in a kiln, the shop's large oven for clay. After it cooled, Nina covered it with glaze, a thin liquid that would give it a smooth white surface. She added a blue line, and Leah fired it again. On Wednesday, Nina called Mr Karim. His cup was ready to try. Before he arrived, she placed it by the window and took three photographs. The blue line curved gently under the handle. She was looking at the pictures on her phone when the door opened. Mr Karim smiled as she lifted the cup from the table. "That is a lovely colour," he said. Nina put it on the counter. He tried to put his two fingers through the handle. One went in. The other caught against the side of the cup. He turned his hand, then stopped.
"Perhaps you can hold it from above," Nina said. She showed him with her own hand. Mr Karim watched, then placed his hand beside hers. "Your fingers do that quite easily. Mine don't." He spoke quietly, without anger. That made Nina feel worse. She moved the cup nearer him. "It is lighter than your old one." "That's good. But I still need to lift it." He tried once more, slowly. The cup rose a little, with his fingers pressed tightly together. Then he set it down. "I would rather wait than take this one home." Nina looked towards Leah, but Leah was helping another customer. Mr Karim put his coat on. "May I come back next Wednesday?" Nina checked the order form. There was still time before the agreed date. "Yes," she said. "I'll have something different for you to try."
Space for a Hand
After the shop closed, Nina sat beside her shelf. The new cup stood among the other five. It belonged there. That was the trouble. She had made it to fit the shelf, and Mr Karim's hand had come second. She found the measurements under her notebook. Her drawing showed a wide handle. The cup did not. Leah stopped beside the shelf. "Did you follow his measurements?" she asked. Nina shook her head. "I changed the handle. I thought it looked better." "Will you let me take another order after this?" Leah sat down. "You have a customer coming back on Wednesday. Let's finish his order first."
Next morning, Nina phoned Mr Karim. "Could you come in today, before I make the next cup?" she asked. "I need to see how you hold things." He arrived after lunch with a small bag. Inside was an empty jar. "This works for me," he said. "I thought it might help." Nina cleared a space on the table. This time, she watched before drawing. He carried the jar with one hand around it, but said that he did not like holding a hot drink that way. He put two fingers through the yellow cup's handle. They had room to move. The handle also kept his knuckles away from the side. Nina asked which finger caught in the new cup. He showed her, and she added that detail to her notes.
They looked at the new drawing together. Nina made the cup lower and its bottom wider. Mr Karim liked how it stood on the table. She drew a handle with plenty of space inside it. "Can I keep the blue line?" she asked. "I'd like that," he said. "It looks like water." When he left, Nina made a small paper shape of the space inside the old handle. She kept it beside the clay while she worked. Whenever she wanted to press the handle closer, she checked the paper. She could still change the outside, but the space inside had to stay. At closing time, Leah came to look. Nina lifted the paper shape from the table. "This part looks like nothing," she said. "But I have to make room for it." Leah nodded and helped her cover the cup.
Tea by the Window
On the second Wednesday, Mr Karim came back. His new cup was ready. Nina had photographed it on a plain tray, away from her shelf. She showed him the lower shape and the wide handle, then stood back. He put two fingers through it. This time, neither finger touched the side. He lifted the cup, held it for a moment and set it down. "Can we try it with water?" he asked. Nina filled it halfway with cool water. He walked from the counter to a chair by the window. A little water moved inside the cup, but none reached the rim. He sat down, with the cup still in his hand. "I think I'd like another blue line here," he said, pointing near the bottom. Nina stared at him. Then she saw his smile. "I'm joking. This one is ready."
At the counter, Mr Karim paid the price on the order form. Nina wrapped the new cup in paper and placed it in a box. Then she brought out the broken yellow cup. "Would you like this back?" He looked at it for a while. "Yes, please. I may put a small plant in it. I won't drink from it again." Nina gave him a second box. She asked what he wanted to do with the first new cup, the tall one that did not fit his hand. "That belongs to you," he said. "Someone else may be able to use it." After he left, Nina took both sets of photographs out of her college folder. She put them beside each other on the table. The tall cup was still beautiful. She did not need to pretend that it wasn't. But she needed to explain why she had made another one.
The next Monday, Mr Karim returned the two empty boxes. His daughter had visited on Sunday, a few days before the date on the order form. "We sat by the kitchen window," he said. "She wanted to know where I bought the cup. I told her it was made for me." Nina asked if the handle was comfortable during a whole morning. "It was," he said. "My daughter used one of my ordinary cups. She didn't ask to swap." That evening, Nina chose her photographs for the application. She included the first cup and the second, with a short note about the space inside the handle. On a new order form, before the spaces for colour and price, she wrote a question: "How will you use it?"
