Five Spice Street

Now it was Dr. A’s turn to talk. He leaned against the wall (for fear she would step on his feet again) and spoke with fervor and assurance. He talked of the sublime significance of representatives and of all the hope the residents of this street had invested in her. As a Ph.D. in the field of her kind of problem, he was clearer about this than anyone. ‘‘This is the highest honor.’’ Please don’t think she earned this honor because of her ability. Not at all. He could divulge a little of the inside story: it was he, acting on his own authority, who bestowed this honor on her. After he won the debate over who had taken the initiative, he acquired more authority every day. Everything he said became a decree. Ordinary people esteemed him: no matter what important thing occurred on Five Spice Street, when a ruling was needed, everyone said, ‘‘Let’s get Dr. A.’’ Without him, the people were lambs that had lost their way. Now, one word from him, one glance, determined the people’s destiny. All day long, his head was filled with grave problems; it was nearly bursting with them. Recently, X’s problem had become the core issue: with one sentence, he made her eminent. He did so because he was determined to reform her. She should know that a lot of people had worked hard their whole lives without getting this opportunity. Some even knelt before him and implored! He thought her behavior just now inconceivable. How could she not repay him for his kindness (he had never wished for repayment from those whom he had benefited; he was a person with lofty thoughts and didn’t want cheap praise)? What’s more, she’d even stepped on his foot and his toes were still numb. Her behavior made him wonder whether it had been a mistake to confer these laurels on her so lightly. Just think of all the good words he’d said about her to the delegation. How could he take them back? But he was committed to his original intention of cooperating with her. He asked Madam X to consider it carefully. She shouldn’t be indiscreet. After all, she was still young and would live several more decades on Five Spice Street. As long as she lived here, she couldn’t get away from his governance. If she was driven to offend him, her future would again be problematic. He would give her no further opportunities. Not only would she not be the representative, the people wouldn’t even mention her name again. Many historians and artists on Five Spice Street were close friends who would die for him. He had to look over all their articles. If she rejected public opinion, who would concern himself with her innovations and unconventional behavior? She would never have a chance to appear in public again. If she recognized this now, he could still forgive her for stepping on his foot. He was a magnanimous, well-bred scholar. When others hurt him, he never much minded. He just hoped she would change her mind at once.

Madam X crossed her eyes, and didn’t look at the two people who were standing against the wall. She busied herself in the room. After a little while, her new brother-in-law came in. She grabbed him and complained loudly:

‘‘Two others came in just now. They’ll seize any opportunity! Take a look outside for me. I suspect I’m surrounded.’’

A lot of people were outside, he told her, but it didn’t matter. They weren’t organized. Some were cracking melon seeds; others were climbing trees. Some were heading home. By noon, not a single person would remain; they didn’t have much patience. If she didn’t go out, they would soon forget their purpose. He whispered that two shady characters were leaning against the wall in the house. Did she want him to get rid of them?

‘‘Ah, never mind!’’ she said. ‘‘Now I know you’re hiding inside. I already said I’m not the least bit interested in being the representative. Why can’t you give up? Hiding won’t help you at all.’’ She added that if they had nothing better to do, they could help with the work. She would greatly appreciate it.

She heard that one of the two was a Ph.D.; she didn’t think much of Ph.D.’s. Selling peanuts was a lot better. A Ph.D. was just a boasting cheat. If conditions allowed, each Ph.D. should be sent to the snack shop to be reeducated and break the habit of lying. All her life she had hated them. If this Ph.D. became the representative- fine. But if one hid out in her home, she’d go nuts and might hit him. So speaking, she lifted a large steelyard. They were so frightened they ran away.

‘‘All Ph.D.’s are traitors,’’ she said to her brother-in-law. Then she blinked teasingly and said, ‘‘Is my sister still remembering to set up a household?’’

Her brother-in-law answered that she was. He enjoyed it, but it was a lot of trouble to carry the chamber pot up and down every day. If they had a baby-hey, he didn’t dare imagine.

‘‘The smell of human excrement would surely damage the baby’s brain. The environment is scary.’’ He was a little dejected.