Page 59 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

scurried under the bed. From there, I saw him drop the rooster skin into a bowl

and place the bowl in the kitchen cupboard. I was shocked! This person didn’t
do what he said, but just the opposite! The other two roosters came out, too.
They circled the man and yelled. They flew up and pecked him. Were they
protesting? And if so, what were they protesting? They had all (including the
mouse) dismembered the little rooster, and now when the man had put his
remains into the cupboard, were they unhappy with that? Why was this room so
hot? The man stuck his head under the bed and asked, “Snake, do you want to
eat? I won’t give you charcoal briquettes because if you eat them, you’ll be
burned so much you won’t even leave any ashes behind. I’ll give you this,
okay?” He threw a big bunch of grass under the bed. I was no herbivore. When I
left the grass in disgust and went over to the wall to sleep, the fragrance emitted
by the grass drew me back. What was this scent? I tried a few bites. This
succulent thing left green juice at the corners of my mouth. I was so excited! I
was about to jump up. I wanted so much to jump to some other place, though I
couldn’t say where. It seemed connected with shadows. And so I scurried to the
shadows behind the big cupboard. Oh! The scent of the grass grew stronger. My

longing for home tortured me. Why was I still staying in these slums that were
like garbage cans? I mustn’t hesitate: I must rush back to my hometown. My
brain was about to explode with memories of her. But my legs were so thin and
weak: it took a lot of effort to go to the city just once. I didn’t know the way to
the grasslands—it was thousands of miles away, so remote. I might die on the
way. I shouldn’t think about these things. Covered all over with the virus, I
could only stay in this garbage can, cleaning up and being disinfected all day
long. Why did he feed me grass from my homeland? Did he intend to shatter my
longing to go back home? Was it all about what he was doing? Did he think this
would be good for me? Oh, my home, my hometown—In this life, I could never
return. I had never imagined that I would be able to eat grass from my home—
sure, this grass was from there. I remembered so clearly: this was what my
ancestors ate every day long, long ago before I was born. Had this landlord been

there? Or was an envoy traveling between the two places? While pondering this,
I fell asleep. Someone was talking in my dream. It was Auntie Shrimp. Auntie
Shrimp said I could walk to the grasslands. “You just need to try, and your legs
will get stronger.” What did she mean? I’d better get up fast and try this. I
opened my eyes with an effort and saw the landlord look under the bed. His
staring triangular eyes freaked me out. He said, “Over there on the corner, two
snakes were burned to death. The entire region is being disinfected. How could
they escape? Huh.” He told me to come out.
I walked out shakily and saw that he had once more placed the dish of the
little rooster’s remains on the floor. He told me to eat that little thing. I didn’t