Blowfish

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BLOWFISH

Wang Renshu

He learnt about this from someone and Remembering his resolve to end the
decided to make the move. family’s suffering, he quickened his steps.
Even from a distance he could see the
Somehow he got a basket of blowfish and glistening eyes of his children waiting
carried it home quietly. outside; then he heard a chorus of their
voices welcoming him home.
Three successive years of disastrous
harvest left him with barely enough grain “Why, not dead yet?” he thought aloud
to pay the landowner and little to feed his softly.
family of five. It had been excruciatingly
difficult for him, all alone, to pull the “Pop! We’ve been waiting for you to eat
family through from last winter to early together!”
spring. Now, all that was left was hunger.
“Oh!” He now knew.
But how could he let his family suffer
hunger? The family scrambled to the table and ate
with gusto. They hadn’t had any fish for
When his family saw him back with a full so long and every tiny bite tasted
basket, they all jumped for joy, as if he delicious. Afterwards, he lay in bed
were an angel. quietly and soon fell asleep, waiting for
the Dark Angel of Death to descend.
The kids met him at the door, half
dancing. The blowfish, however, had been cooked
for so long its poison had all disappeared.
“Pop, Pop! What is it? Let’s eat it!” So the family lived and would have to
suffer hunger again, day by day.
At this tears welled up in his eyes.
He woke up and sighed: “Why is it so
“Eat,” he mumbled, terrified by his own hard even to ask for death?” And tears
voice, terrified for the lives of his kids; his welled in his eyes.
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.

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