Page 197 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

again tomorrow night.
The next night, he had no headache; as soon as his parents fell asleep, he
slipped out of the house. There was no moonlight. He walked a long time,
trusting to his memory to find that desert. He stood beside the desert. It was dark
all around. Rarely seen, such desolation was simply terrifying. He wasn’t a
coward, but he didn’t want to stay here long. Without the queen, the desert was

hell. The walk home was endless. Even though he walked fast, when he got
home it was already light. He remembered that someone wearing a conical hat
on the road had asked, “Did you have good luck?” He had hurriedly answered,
“It seems so . . .” It was dark at the time, and he hadn’t gotten a good look at the
person. Drum didn’t give up; later, he went back to the desert several times. But
each time it was dark; he missed the silvery moonlight night.
He told his Uncle Mi about his experience. Uncle Mi was silent for a while
and then said, “Don’t go there.” “Why?” Drum asked. “Because you yourself
don’t want to go. Besides, the queen occupies your heart, doesn’t she? Drum,
you must improve yourself!” Drum was grateful to Uncle Mi. Even after many
years had passed, Drum still remembered that night vividly. In the daytime, he
went to the desert, where he picked up some stones and brought them back. The

stones were dull, not a bit shiny. But Drum liked these stones; he rubbed them
with his hands and told them what had happened that night.
After some of the elderly villagers heard about Drum’s experience, they
discussed it in private. But they didn’t want to make their comments public.
Smiling, they said to Drum, “You were lucky, Drum. That evening, the queen
was hurrying to rendezvous with her parents.” “How do you know?” Drum
asked in amazement. “We always know a little about this kind of thing ahead of
time.” The elders were concerned for the queen and also happy for her. After all,
she was having a reunion with her family. But to waste her strength like this at
night: Would this harm her health? Early the next morning, she appeared again
beside the well. These old people had heard their elders say that the old king and
his queen were buried “on the other side” of the desert—a place that they
themselves had chosen. But no one knew exactly where on the other side of the
desert. Apart from the queen, no one had gone there. It must be remote, a place
with many acacia trees. After Drum told the villagers his news, they watched the
queen even more closely for the next few days. In those few days, the queen

seemed even more spirited, and she played old records in the palace. These were
marches. It seemed that the old king’s vitality motivated the queen, and she was
vigorous as she put the palace in order. In Wang Village, there was no larger or
more stately place than the palace. It was the villagers’ spiritual sustenance.
Even shepherd children were always looking toward this place on the plains.
During that extraordinary night, the queen didn’t sleep. After she returned