Page 86 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

earlier. Looking into the distance, he saw that half the sheds had been
demolished. He thought, Perhaps it’s my fate to be related to this place. Walking
absentmindedly, he tripped on something and nearly fell. Oh, it was the piglets!

They were scurrying fast in all directions. The younger mountain person said,
“All kinds of animals live in swamps, except for water buffaloes.”
“Look—the piglets are going into the Grand Theater!” Ayuan shouted in
excitement.
In the blink of an eye, the two mountain folk disappeared.
Ayuan went over to the Grand Theater. A poster outside the theater pictured
the piglets. They were actors! A male voice came from the theater’s loudspeaker,
“This is 1963. Mushrooms grow underground here. This is a girl’s bowknot.
Ladies and gentlemen, give me your attention . . .”
Ayuan lost no time in buying a ticket and rushing into the theater.
Lights were on, but no one was there. He made his way down a long aisle
between the seats and climbed up to the stage. Just then, he tripped again. Oh,
the piglets! Before he could get a good look at them, they disappeared behind the
curtain, and the stage light went out. Feeling his way, he walked across and
grabbed the curtain.
It was wet. God! It had so many layers that it was almost a forest of curtains.

Panting, he squatted down. Wrapped in the damp velvet curtains, he heard the
piglets moving—many of them. What on earth did the poster signify? Below the
stage, a woman shouted, “Ayuan, Ayuan! Did you see the big-headed fish?”
Smothered by the curtain, Ayuan couldn’t talk. His voice sounded like a
whisper, “I—I . . . piglets.”
At last, a piglet made its way to his feet. The piglet was smelly, but it showed
warmth toward Ayuan. At once, he found it easier to breathe. The woman below
the stage was still calling him, but Ayuan didn’t want to answer. Holding the
piglet, he trembled with excitement. The curtains groaned and wriggled gently.
The thick curtains turned into living things; no light could penetrate from
outside. Ayuan eventually figured out that the woman below the stage was the
bride from the photography studio. He thought, What kind of life is this bride

leading?
In this forest of curtains, Ayuan’s mind was filled with many events of the
past. He felt it was bizarre that although many of these things hadn’t actually
happened, nonetheless in his memory they had become his own experiences. For
example, it was the bride who had had an accident in the artificial lake, but now
this had become an event from his past. His palm was still scarred from being
scratched by a shard at the bottom of the lake. When he thought of this, he licked
his palm.
The loudspeaker blared again.