Page 102 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

box in the loft, it hadn’t attracted any interest. That’s right: my cousin created
this disturbance. Maybe Father had dropped her a hint and she’d picked up on it.
She was very bright.
When I thought of how Father had regarded me, I felt thoroughly
disappointed. I threw the box down, and a vague plan arose in my mind. Yes, I

was going to retaliate against the dead—Father and also Mother—and consign
them to hell. My husband entered quietly and noticed the box on the floor. He
mistakenly thought I had yielded. As he stood under the lamp, his lanky body
appeared to be floating. I heard him sigh. He seemed to be talking to himself: “It
shouldn’t have grown so serious in the first place. Who cares about things that
belonged to the dead? It would have been okay if everyone had continued being
in the dark, wouldn’t it? The past few days, those people have really been
driving me nuts.”
Early in the morning, my cousin packed her things. She stood up right after
breakfast and announced she was leaving. My son immediately shouted in
protest, saying she shouldn’t leave so soon. They hadn’t finished yesterday’s
chess game.
“What’s your rush?” I looked her straight in the eye.
“You no longer need me here,” she smiled. “Evils will continue, but there
won’t be any serious problem. I’m relieved. And I can’t stay here forever. It’s
already been long enough.”

I held back my rising anger. “Didn’t you say you would curb the evils?”
“I was just exaggerating. We all like to boast, because it makes us feel
important. I have to deal with my own problems. As you saw, the two old folks
came here making trouble. They were extremely malicious. They wanted to kill
someone!” Then she hefted her backpack, waved her hand, and left.
“I never thought she could have put up with this situation,” my husband
whispered.
“Could you? What’s your ‘situation’? Do you know? Don’t play innocent!
We’re a little too old for that.” This startled him. He sneered and went outside.
My son also left the table, glared at me, and walked away.
Outside, people were talking. The neighbors. They were crowding around my
husband asking him something. I felt a roaring in my head. Everything was like
an arrow in a bow.

My husband seemed to be saying something, and they all suddenly
understood. They marveled and slowly dispersed.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed the tape recorder and smashed it on the
floor. No one paid any attention to me. They had all gone. I returned to the
bedroom and took out that wooden box and shook it a few times next to my ear.
I heard the sound of withered leaves, or perhaps they were letters or