Page 154 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

He was scared. He coiled up into a ball, afraid to move, intending to go on
sleeping, but his dad’s voice grew louder and louder, almost as if he were
hysterical and wanted to kill him. He ran outside. When he closed the door on
his way out, it caused a huge, earthshaking sound, as if the house were
collapsing.
He didn’t stop until he had run straight to the Co-op. Lu-er sat at the simple
table under the awning and caught his breath. He didn’t know why his eyelids
were stuck together. He bent over the table; he wanted to sleep, but he still didn’t
fall asleep. The Co-op door creaked. Two people walked out of the store talking.
To his surprise, one was his father. His father and the shopkeeper were
bargaining. Dad wanted to buy some cheap cigarettes; he wanted shopkeeper Gu
to sell him two at a reduced price. The shopkeeper refused. He ridiculed Dad,
saying that Dad was “a loach.” Why did he say Dad was a loach? Lu-er couldn’t
figure that out. He was so sleepy, he’d better not think about anything anymore.
Father and shopkeeper Gu walked off into the distance on the highway.
At last, Lu-er was awakened by a persistent, whiny little noise. He stood up

and looked all around: the Co-op door was standing open; inside it was very
dark. Where had Dad and shopkeeper Gu gone? Though Lu-er was afraid others
would suspect him of stealing, he had to enter the shop. But the shop was by no
means deserted. A saleswoman sat before a kerosene lamp counting banknotes.
“You’re a thief, aren’t you?” she asked, glancing at him.
On the wall to the right, a huge human shadow was swaying, just like the one
Lu-er had seen that night in the rapeseed plot. Lu-er broke into a cold sweat.
“Get out of here. Now!” the woman reproached him.
Lu-er crouched down and made his way into an empty space in the display
case. He snuggled up there without moving. He heard the saleswoman walking
back and forth in front of him. She seemed to be moving goods. He even smelled
her pungent, foul sweat. Suddenly, she approached him and squatted down with

him. She held his hand and said in a small, shaky voice, “Kid, I’m so afraid. It’s
like this every night. He wants me to die.”
“Who?”
“How could you not have seen him? You did see him!”
“The one on the wall—that one?”
“Yes. Thump my head a few times so I won’t faint from fear.”
Lu-er turned toward what he guessed was her head and slapped it. He felt his
fist land on a ball of mushy mud. It made the back of his hand slippery. He
shouted, “Aiya.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Where else could I be? Next to you. You little rascal, did you come here to
get killed?”
Her voice was low and constrained, filled with fury. She pounded on Lu-er’s