Five Spice Street

‘‘That was before I moved here. Now I have forgotten everything from the past. I don’t go out the whole day long. I can’t remember anything. It drives me crazy to remember; it’s scary. You don’t have to be so concerned about him. As I see it, he has nothing to complain about. He’s a stud: happiness is guaranteed for him. Of course, my husband is also a stud. You saw him just now. You can’t imagine how happy we are living in this loft like two little birds. What’s more, he-this precious man-also invented this rope ladder, and we then immediately blocked up the passage downstairs. Our life is like that of the immortals. What do you think of it? It’s already been three months since I’ve gone out, and I don’t plan to go out ever again. My sister is a warning to me. I am timid and weak. Luckily, my darling found this loft. If I were still down below, among all of you, it would be too frightening. Watch out!’’

She leapt up, looked left and right for a few seconds, and quickly burrowed under the table and squatted there. ‘‘Please sit at the table, and I’ll talk with you. You know, as long as we don’t go out we’re happy up here, but it doesn’t mean we don’t have worries. Some people are always climbing up to the roof and making trouble. The biggest problem living up here is using the toilet. You have to carry the chamber pot up and down, with the risk of being attacked on the way. You simply can’t imagine this kind of trouble.’’

‘‘I can.’’ Showing consideration for her, the writer said, ‘‘I came to see you about your brother-in-law. Maybe you still remember-’’ ‘‘How can I remember? You’re forcing me to do what I just can’t do. All I remember every day is burrowing under the table and the chamber pot. These things can’t be neglected for one second. I’ve already told you, I’m not free of worry. I have to keep in mind these two things, even when I’m sleeping with my darling. A few days ago, just at that time, people threw blocks of iron at us from the roof. I was really annoyed. How can I remember anything else? Ever since we moved to this building, I’ve felt I’ve lost my memory. The table and the chamber pot are too important. There’s no way to get away from them, and you have to concentrate on them. You don’t want your home filled with excrement, right? Even less do you want your wife to be smashed to smithereens, right? A female friend from the past came to see me. I refused to see her. Where do I have extra energy to deal with this sort of thing? Although you’ve come up here today, that doesn’t mean I can let my guard down. I can pay attention only to these two things. You can’t tear me away from them. Please open the window and see if my darling has come back. Every day at work, he finds some time to come back and empty the chamber pot because I can’t go out. If I go out, I’m attacked. You’d better not think he doesn’t want to do this. He’s happy to do it. We’re a good pair. I like a family atmosphere, although in these conditions it seems impossible to have a child. In this respect, my sister and I diverge. I like being with one person to the end. I plan to be with my present husband until we grow old. Ha-the little bird has flown back!’’

She rushed over, opened the window, and lowered the ladder.

Then she turned around and said to the writer, ‘‘You should leave. Isn’t it strange that you’re still here? He won’t like you very much, I can see that.’’

That afternoon, the writer achieved nothing. As he was sitting, annoyed, at the curb, tapping his heels, a heavy hand pressed his shoulder. When he looked up, the writer saw his counterpart-the black-clad mother of the street.

‘‘I’ve evaluated that incident all over again. You certainly didn’t offend me. I can’t overlook your strong points. There can’t be many talents like you.’’ She patted the writer’s cheek and said contemplatively, ‘‘I greatly appreciate your genius in working hard to track this down. Just now, you’ve succeeded.’’

‘‘What?’’