Page 201 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

“Then come in right now! Didn’t you hear the wolves roaring?” she said

sternly.
Zhen tried hard a couple of times, but was unable to stand up. The woman
dragged her in. The clatter of the gate closing was earthshaking.
She couldn’t see anything in the house. For some reason, Zhen felt pleased.
Her insane urge to go walking disappeared. She sensed that she was sitting on a
high-backed chair. The woman was sitting across from her. Zhen couldn’t help
saying softly, “Are you the queen?”
“It seems so.” The voice was teasing.
“I really didn’t come here on purpose to disturb you.”
“But you did. You guessed right: I don’t need a companion. But I do like to
lecture others: that’s my failing. It’s easy to solve your problem. I’ll help you
solve it right now.”
Zhen was stunned. She waited, wondering how the queen would do this. But
after about ten minutes, the queen hadn’t made any sound or motion. Another
ten minutes passed, and still nothing happened. Zhen grew impatient, but she
waited a while longer and finally extended her hand. She probed in the dusky

space across from her, but didn’t touch anything. She walked over to it; she
didn’t encounter any obstacle because in fact the queen wasn’t there. But just
now she had definitely been sitting across from her.
“Queen!” she shouted.
Her eerie voice echoed in the high, empty room. She broke out in a cold
sweat. Something was tangled up with her feet, and she sat down on the floor
again. She grabbed the thing with her right hand. Oh, a snake! The snake bit her,
then struggled free, slipping away with a rustling sound. She sensed that the
back of her right hand was swelling quickly. She might die soon.
“Queen, save me! I’m dying!” she shouted, over and over.
She shouted until she was hoarse and then she knew no one was there to save
her.
She would have to save herself. Enduring the pain, she looked for the door,

and found it after a while. She pushed and pushed, but the door wouldn’t move.
It seemed to be bolted from the outside. She was tormented by pain; she was
exhausted. Even worse: fears surged up in her mind like waves; she felt that
poisonous juices were spreading all through her body.
“No!” she screamed.
She had never been weak. Never in her whole life. Even so, she felt that her
“No” was frail and weak, not much stronger than a mosquito’s buzzing. She
started kicking at the door. She thought that since she could still kick the door,
she probably wouldn’t die. However, she seemed to be kicking cotton each time,
for there was neither sound nor resistance from the door.
“Zhen, Zhen . . . ,” her lover called to her from the darkness. His voice