Читать книгу The Pearl Jacket and Other Stories - Shouhua Qi - Страница 26

Wang Renshu

He learnt about this from someone and decided to make the move.

Somehow he got a basket of blowfish and carried it home quietly.

Three successive years of disastrous harvest left him with barely enough grain to pay the landowner and little to feed his family of five. It had been excruciatingly difficult for him, all alone, to pull the family through from last winter to early spring. Now, all that was left was hunger.

But how could he let his family suffer hunger?

When his family saw him back with a full basket, they all jumped for joy, as if he were an angel.

The kids met him at the door, half dancing.

“Pop, Pop! What is it? Let’s eat it!”

At this tears welled up in his eyes.

“Eat.” he mumbled, terrified by his own voice, terrified for the lives of his kids; his heart nearly froze.

He told his wife to cook the fish and then left on the pretext of an errand. Not that he didn’t want to die himself, but that he didn’t want to watch with his own eyes how his family would die. So he wanted to stay away for the time being.

It was well past noon and he was still not back. The kids had been pleading with their mother for the fish

Now, his wife, who had been through a lot with him and loved him dearly, would never let the kids eat or taste anything before he had the first bite.

By the time the sun began to set in the west, the blowfish was still being cooked in the wok. It was then that he came back home, as if walking on air, dreading each step, his mind filled with pictures of his family, all dead, sprawled here and there.

Remembering his resolve to end the family’s suffering, he quickened his steps. Even from a distance he could see the glistening eyes of his children waiting outside; then, he heard a chorus of their voices welcoming him home.

“Why, not dead yet?” he thought aloud softly.

“Pop! We’ve been waiting for you to eat together!”

“Oh!” He now knew.

The family scrambled to the table and ate with gusto. They hadn’t had any fish for so long and every tiny bite tasted delicious. Afterwards, he lay in bed quietly and soon fell asleep, waiting for the Dark Angel of Death to descend.

The blowfish, however, had been cooked for so long its poison had all disappeared. So the family lived and would have to suffer hunger again, day by day.

He woke up and sighed: “Why is it so hard even to ask for death?” as tears welled in his eyes.

(1936)