Page 148 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

Perplexed, Lu-er looked ahead. In front of him was the mountain. In the night
sky, it had become a heavy dark shadow. All of a sudden, it expanded until it
covered nearly half the sky. Soon, Lu-er could see nothing. Extending his hand,

he couldn’t see his five fingers. He groped around, intending to go back inside.
When he reached the stairs, he heard his father saying bitterly, “Lu-er, it
would be great if you were Ji.”
Lu-er went back to bed and started giving careful thought to what his father
had said. Ji had been his friend all along—a child picked up along the street by
Auntie Hua who lived in back of the tofu shop. He was a year older than Lu-er.
Ji didn’t talk much, but when he did, his words usually shocked people. Lu-er
admired him. For example, one day, the two of them were playing outside; it
was late before they went home. Lu-er was worried that he would be beaten
when he got home. Ji consoled him, “Beatings will make your skin thicker, and
then you won’t feel any pain in the future.” Another example: he taught Lu-er to
sneak eggs into the pot where the pig swill was boiling, and when others in the
family weren’t looking, ladle them out and eat them. He summed up this method

by saying, “If you eat a fresh egg every few days, in ten years you’ll be a strong
man.” Lu-er’s father didn’t see Ji’s dark side. He thought that Ji had better
prospects than Lu-er. Dad said it would be great if he were Ji. Did he wish that
Lu-er was an orphan? The more he thought about this, the greater his shock. He
knew his dad was disappointed in him, but how could he now be reborn as an
orphan?
Lu-er felt that the brightest spot in his life was his friendship with Ji. Ji was
different from all the other village children, yet Lu-er liked hanging with him.
But what was going on with him today? Had Lu-er exposed some inner secret of
his and this had made him unhappy? Was the landslide Ji’s secret? Or even
worse: Was the landslide the inner secret of all of the villagers—and it could
only be stored at the bottom of one’s heart and never be spoken of? Thinking of
these troubling matters, Lu-er tossed and turned in bed. Finally, when he was
about to fall asleep, he thought of one person—Auntie Hua, a middle-aged
woman who knew everything. He would sound her out on this tomorrow.

It was three days before Lu-er saw Auntie Hua. She always went to the market
early in the morning to sell tofu and didn’t return until dark. Lu-er’s mother
wouldn’t let him go out after dark.
Consumed with worries, Lu-er was sitting under the eaves making straw
sandals when Auntie Hua suddenly turned up in front of him.
“Were you looking for me?” she asked with a smile.

“Auntie, how did you know?” Lu-er blushed.