Page 55 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

rooster passed by me, I was actually scalded! Its body was as hot as red-hot
coals. Just then, the man squatted down and looked me up and down. His face
was triangular, and his cruel eyes were hidden under bushy eyebrows. He swept

my legs with the club, and I jumped away. “This snake is really odd . . . ,” he
muttered. He still considered me a snake. Was this because I didn’t emit heat?
What were these roosters all about?
He suddenly gave a weird laugh and said, “Auntie Shrimp . . .” The sound
seemed to come from a tomb. I looked around: sure enough, Auntie Shrimp’s
face appeared at the door. She was laughing in embarrassment, but she didn’t
enter. He waved his hand, and I still thought he was going to hit me, but his hand
merely slipped past once and a heatwave dashed against my face. I blinked:
Auntie Shrimp had disappeared. The little rooster jumped from the windowsill to
his shoulder. The man stood up, and dragging the club, circled once around the
room. When the two roosters on the floor dashed past me, scalding my nose, a
blister appeared immediately on my nose. What the hell? This old man seemed
to want to find the two roosters, but the roosters ran right past him and he didn’t

even see them. He just struck the air with his club. The little guy on his shoulder
gurgled, keeping time with his swaying. Its claws cut into his clothes. I scurried
under the bed because I was afraid he would hit me. I had barely squeezed under
the bed when something struck me in the head. I almost fainted from the pain.
When I pulled myself together, I noticed a lot of little animals that were similar
to me. They formed a circle around me. Their thermal radiation almost prevented
me from opening my eyes. Were they my kin? How had they become so heat-
resistant? In my hometown in the past, our pasture was icebound most of the
year. We hid in dugouts. We never knew what “high temperatures” meant. What
was going on now? They turned into balls of fire, and yet they could endure this!
Were they surrounding me in order to destroy my physical being? If so, why
weren’t they taking action? At the door, Auntie Shrimp was saying to the man,
“Have you destroyed that virus? Where did he go? He goes all over the place
and might spread disease.” She actually said I was a virus! The old man
answered, “Don’t worry. This place is for high-temperature disinfecting. We’ll
take care of his problem.” “Then please do that.” Auntie Shrimp seemed to

really be leaving.
I was being roasted. I couldn’t open my eyes. Could they be treating my
virus? Those who were like my kin were glaring at me. My eyes stung, and I
shed tears. I couldn’t see. The old man swept under the bed again with his club,
and my kin ran out. He pressed me against the wall with his club. “Go ahead—
just try to run!” the old man said. I heard myself cry out twice from the pain. My
voice sounded like that of a house mouse. How could I sound like a house
mouse? I struggled, but the club didn’t budge. Soon I would suffocate.