Page 56 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)
P. 56
mouse? I struggled, but the club didn’t budge. Soon I would suffocate.
Everything went black before my eyes. Was I going to die? It was so hot. But
suddenly the man loosened his grip on the club and said, “A snake can’t warm
up.” I touched the blister on my nose. Indeed, my claws were ice-cold. No
wonder he said I was a snake!
Had I been disinfected? I had no idea. I slowly came out from under the bed
and once more heard Auntie Shrimp’s voice: “I’ve never seen such a clean
mouse before! But he’ll be dirty again tomorrow and he’ll have to be roasted
again. Huh! If he were like the others, I’d take him back.” By “the others,” I
knew she meant the ones who were supposedly my kin. They had become
burning pieces of coal, so of course they couldn’t have viruses. But how had
they gotten like this? Auntie Shrimp didn’t seem to be planning for me to go
back. She stared at me coldly from the window. Did they really intend to roast
me like this every day? Even if they did, how could a snake turn into a red-hot
coal? My kin who had been swept out from under the bed lined up along the foot
of the wall. The old man swept across with the club. Routed again, they scurried
under the bed. Tired out from hitting them, he stood with arms akimbo in the
middle of the room and said, “You sluggards! Watch out—my club means
business!” I looked under the bed: those little things were trembling! The little
rooster flew from his shoulder to midair, then dropped down and set off a
heatwave in the room. When this wave struck me, I fell back a few paces and
leaned against the wall. I noticed that the landlord wasn’t emitting heat, and yet
he wasn’t afraid of it, either. How come? He set down his club and took
something to eat out of the kitchen cupboard. He seemed to be eating little black
balls. Judging from his table manners, the food was hard. A cracking sound
came from between his teeth: Was he eating something metal? What strong teeth
he had! Just then, a ray of sunlight flashed in from the open door, and all at once
I got a good look at his face. A huge tumor on the left side of his face pulled his
mouth and nose to one side. The tumor was so red that it was almost purple. To
my surprise, a brass ring was pierced through the top of it, and pus ran out from
that ring. Damn, his body was so toxic, and yet he devoted himself to
disinfecting animals! People, huh? Oh, people. No way could I understand them!
He chewed and swallowed down all those little balls. His teeth were like steel.
“Yi Tinglai! Yi Tinglai!” Auntie Shrimp was standing at the door. Why was his
name Yi Tinglai—“First Responder”? How weird! Auntie Shrimp said, “I won’t
feel better until he’s as clean as you. He always gets dirty!” The old man gave a
devilish laugh. I couldn’t see even one tooth in the dark cavity that was his
mouth. How had he bitten those little balls? “Are you leaving now? You aren’t
taking him with you?” the old man asked Auntie Shrimp. “I have to go. The road
will be blocked soon. As for the little mouse, I’ll leave him with you. I’m sorry