Page 28 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

past. So the next time they were waiting for the whistle to sound, I fumbled my
way back to the break in the fence where I had come in. I wanted to get out. I
had just leaned out from the fence when that person punched me in the nose and
roared, “Are you looking for death?” This was a really strong blow, and I nearly
fainted from it. I sat on the ground and heard him say, “Try to escape! Just keep

trying. I’d like to find out if your skull is made of iron. Huh!” Naturally, I didn’t
dare try again. Now all I could do was act as wild as these other guys inside,
because I couldn’t just sit here without moving. If I did, they would stampede
me to death. Hey, they were starting to run again. Even though my nose still
hurt, I ran along with them. But they stopped after just a few steps. I didn’t react
in time and kept running. So I stumbled against one of them. He was a big one
with long sharp protruding teeth. He sniffed at my belly with his long snout for a
long time. I closed my eyes, waiting for death. Luckily, just then, the whistling
started again. He threw me down and ran. I lay on my stomach on the ground,
while lots of them stepped on my back to move ahead. I was afraid they would
make mincemeat of me, but after a while they stopped stepping on me and
detoured around me instead. Somehow, I unintentionally touched the fence once
again. There was another break in it. Should I sneak out through it? Was that
person standing guard outside? No, he wasn’t here. I emerged. It was quiet all
around. Was this the wilderness? I saw a house with a kerosene lamp in front of
the window! How could this exist underground?

As I walked toward the house, I thought of the words that man had just
spoken, “looking for death.” Was this what I was doing now? What would be in
the house? Ha! A child was brushing his teeth in the doorway. He spat water all
over my face! “Let him in if that’s what he wants,” someone inside said. This
was the very master who had fed me poisonous mushrooms, wasn’t it? I went in.
Hey, this really was his home! Great. This was great, I had returned to the slums.
Just now on the road, I had noticed some indistinct houses, but hadn’t dared
believe my eyes. When I climbed up to the stove, I sensed gratefully that I was
home again. The master took out a bowl, filled it with food, and placed it in front
of me. I saw at once that it was poisonous mushrooms—three of them in the rice.
Although my belly was rumbling with hunger, I hesitated. Did I really want to
die? No, I didn’t! I didn’t want to die! The master was staring at me. “Are you
going to eat? If not, I’ll take it away.” He seemed to be chuckling. I immediately

buried my head in the food and began eating. Without even tasting it, I ate it all.
My mind went blank. I heard the person clap twice and say, “Great! Great!”
What was so “great”? It must be night, but he said, “I’m going to repair the
road.” He went out with a hoe. It was so dark, and yet he was going to repair the
road! I jumped down from the stove and inspected the house. It was the same as
before, and so was the furniture. The child was sitting under the table playing