Page 48 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

been any? If so, did they sleep on the floor? There was a jar on the stove. I
climbed up and took a look. What I saw scared me so much I nearly fell. My
heart pounded for a long time. That large jar was full of the red scorpions that
I’d seen before. When I recalled the one that wouldn’t die, I had goose bumps all
over. Ah, they’d been raising these things at home. I saw two of them climb up
the edge of the jar trying to get out. On another side of the stove was a willow
basket: inside was the bacon that was so delicious. But now I didn’t dare go over
and eat it. The old woman came in. “Rat, did you find some food?” she asked.

How’d she know? Then she waved her hand and “hissed” twice, and the two
scorpions went down. She took meat out of the basket, cut it, and put it in a dish.
She sat down and chewed the bacon slowly in her toothless mouth. She’d
forgotten I was hungry. I pulled her trouser leg with my mouth, but she remained
indifferent—absorbed in her meditation. Desperate, I bit her leg and swallowed
down a mouthful of her flesh. Oh! I’d become a house mouse! I was so ashamed.
She moved and leaned against the wall, muttering, “I—I’m in so much pain . . .”
I had bitten very deep—close to the bone, but I’d drawn no blood. Her flesh was
a little sour; it tasted pretty good. In a daze, I looked at the wound; I wanted to
take another bite. But the old man came in. He grabbed a wooden stick and hit
me. I thought my spine was broken. I lay on my stomach in the middle of the
room, unable to move. “Leave him here to die!” the old woman screamed. Then,
supporting each other, the two exited. They locked the door from the outside.

Except for my eyeballs, which could still turn, my whole body was paralyzed.
Was I going to die? She’d left me there to die. Did this mean that I still had to
wait a while before I actually died? I lay on my stomach on the floor and thought
and thought. I thought of that pasture, where an eagle circled overhead every
day. I’d been accustomed to that scene. But one day, she flew so high that even
though I had great eyesight, I could only look on helplessly as she disappeared
into the blue sky. At that time, the whole pastureland was ebullient: all of my
species emerged from their hiding places. They ran wildly all over the
pastureland: everything was chaotic. The eagle never appeared again. Just then, I
saw the house mouse. Hadn’t he died? I’d seen with my own eyes that his head
was separated from his body. Maybe he was a brother of the dead one. God,
even his expression was the same! I grew quite emotional, though I didn’t know
exactly why. He approached me and smelled my butt. How strange: it was like a
bird pecking at my butt, and the tickling revived me. Then I saw the bloody mess
in his mouth. Ah, he was eating me. I grew so excited that my paralysis
vanished. I turned and looked at my butt: he had bitten a hole in it. Although I

was in pain, the tickling that had revived me was a lot better than the paralysis I
had just experienced. I approached him, hoping he would take another bite out of
me. But he’d eaten his fill and was weary of eating. He didn’t even smell me, but