Page 131 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

Another child showed up. First he knocked politely on the door, and then
quietly pushed the door open. His name was Little Yao. He was always wary,
like a little adult.

“Granny Wang, I miss your gherkins. The ginger- and pepper-flavored kind.”
Woman Wang looked at him sleepily, and then bent down and opened a green
crock and took out a gherkin for him.
As he ate it, he smacked his lips and looked all around with his big eyes.
“What are you looking for, Little Yao?”
“I saw Little Ping come in, but I didn’t see her go. Is she still here?”
“Good question,” Woman Wang said.
Woman Wang urged Little Yao to leave. The boy hadn’t yet left when a bell
echoed somewhere inside Woman Wang’s head. She looked up: the rose color
on the window had disappeared, and everything in the room had returned to its
usual gray color. The ringing sound came and went. It was far away.
“Granny Wang, is Little Ping calling you?” Little Yao asked, staring at her.
“Maybe. Have I forgotten something?” Woman Wang was a little nervous.

“Did you cover the kimchi crock?” Little Yao asked earnestly.
“You’re really watchful. But this time it was another kind of thing.”
“I’m leaving. Good-bye, Granny Wang.”
He hurried out, as though afraid that Woman Wang would ask him something
else.
Woman Wang lay down again. The boy’s reminder had sharpened her
hearing. She had a good idea of what was happening in her home. In the
daytime, when she went out to buy groceries, she had seen the bulldozer. The
demolition wouldn’t start for another three months. Why had the bulldozer
shown up so soon? Little children probably liked this kind of thing a lot. When
the tall apartment buildings were constructed, the unfinished rooms would be a
great place for them to play.
Woman Wang closed her eyes. She felt that her thoughts could penetrate five
hundred meters underground, where there was a layer of quartz. There were
cavities in the quartz, and some harmless gases had accumulated in those
cavities. She said, “What a wonderful place—right here in Catfish Pit!” She felt

another earthquake. This time, she knew what it was. The children in this place
were so smart—she hadn’t been that smart at their age. She was no longer
alarmed; she didn’t even open her eyes. She just enjoyed the pleasant sensation
of the wooden bed swaying. The swaying wasn’t very strong, and it stopped
quite soon.
A rose-colored light skimmed over the window, and then once more it
became an ordinary window. She heard the old woman Yun, who lived upstairs
on the right side, coming downstairs. She was always like this—taking two steps