Five Spice Street

Only now did it occur to the writer that he had left his house early and until now had taken a twisting path. His objective definitely hadn’t been the small loft next to the wharf-that was just an excuse, a feint. After the writer left that place, the gods had led him to his real destination. Now the problem was already solved. The solution was ‘‘to wipe out all the records about this man.’’ This was wonderful! Too bad the writer hadn’t brought his notebook. Otherwise, he would have been able to finish this major pioneering work right away. This was precisely a case of ‘‘great minds thinking alike’’ and ‘‘reaching the same goal by different routes.’’ Today really was a memorable day. In essence, this major pioneering work was both merciful and humane. We constructed a home for a stranger, and the door to this home was wide open day and night to people traveling far from their own homes. This was so inspirational.

The widow made some additional comments to the writer: at daybreak, she had taken a pair of that man’s shoes from the windowsill of X’s home. Now she was keeping these cloth shoes, full of symbolic significance, in her drawer of memorabilia. This was also forceful evidence. If she met with an accident, the writer should remember this pair of shoes. He could use this fact to fight off the possible attack.

Now, the writer had finally finished dealing with the problem of these two vague persons. He doubtless felt greatly relieved. The writer got that pair of cloth shoes at the widow’s home, and so the two of them uttered a sigh of relief in unison. This spelled the end of one section of our work. The widow sat down on a recliner in her doorway, her gaze slack and numb. She also seemed to have become much thinner. The writer secretly thought she was indeed getting old.

‘‘Nothing matters.’’ She suddenly gave a forced smile. ‘‘The wind is blowing in front of you, the road stretches out before your eyes. None of this means anything at all. I keep asking myself: what happened to me? I’m gorgeous, young, and pretty-so what? Even if I were as old as the woman wearing the little black felt hat, I would still look okay. But whenever I cast off my responsibility to society and come back home and sit in this small coffin-like room, I am caught up in frightening thoughts of death. Most recently, I’ve worried more and more about the future of human beings, and I’ve had more and more self-doubt. All along, I’ve been exhausted from carrying too heavy a burden on my back. Now I’m telling you the truth: just now, if that man hadn’t been so ruthless, I would really have wanted to go far away with him and start over. This place of ours is really a little too closed. All at once, I’ve abandoned myself to despair.’’

She gave another forced smile. Her mood infected the writer, who had a sudden impulse: he thought he would go home and burn this precious historical record. Luckily, that impulse lasted only thirty-seven seconds. Luckily, after those thirty-seven seconds, another new question occupied our beloved friend’s brain. Only then did we cast off our individual sentimentality.

10. HOW WE REVERSED THE NEGATIVE AND ELECTED MADAM X OUR REPRESENTATIVE

Many people opposed electing Madam X the people’s representative, arguing that no one could get used to seeing our former antagonist on Five Spice Street in this high position. There was nothing strange in this opposition because new ways of thinking are always attacked, but after a few months, X entered the historical records as the people’s representative.

The reader must think this very odd. Common sense tells us there’s something fishy in this alien from outer space, this dissident, whose murderous plot had been directed against the people, this abettor of juvenile delinquency, this hooligan with corrupt morals all of a sudden becoming the people’s representative! People shuddered. But the new idea was finally born, and survived with a tenacious life-force. The change in thinking occurred silently and secretly. Today, when the outside delegation came to make an on-the-spot investigation of orderly Five Spice Street, the residents boasted:

‘‘The one who used to be Madam X has been elected our representative. This is worth bringing up, for it indicates a transition in our history.’’ Then someone pulled a delegate over to the side of the street for a ‘‘talk.’’ This enlightened person made the following significant remark: