Every two Sundays, I will walk to our community supermarket in an attempt to scrape by enough money for food. It was a measly store at best; some of the windows were fragmented, spiderwebs weaving their deadly trap across the spindly reflections of the pane. Shelves inside are barely right-side up, metal bars swinging everywhere and with a tile floor that crumbles under the heaviness of my footsteps.
The actual products were gone as well, or at least, most of what was valuable enough to be bought. Water, eggs, flour, even the most plain of bread were nowhere to be seen. People avoided each other, darting glances at passing shadows as if there was a Japanese soldier that could spring up any second. There was a shame to our poverty, from the ragged soles of our shoes to how we all pointedly ignored the tears in our shirts. We all shared the same gnawing hunger, tired eyes, and yet none of us wanted to acknowledge it.
My footsteps carried me to the only aisle I could ever really visit – the discounted food section. Food that had gone past their expiration date, boxes with broken packaging, and other knick-knacks that made them undesirable to the normal customer. However, we couldn't afford to be particularly picky with our food.
However, when I checked the price tag of the soup cans I always brought, a sickening dread began to coat my lungs. The damn markets had raised the price, from 1.75 to 4 Yuan, almost tripling the price, if my math held right.
It was much more than the few coins that sat in my pocket.
"Excuse me?" I rushed to the nearest worker I saw in an apron, far too aggressively if the way he unconsciously backed away said anything. "Do you know why the price changed?"
I had prayed that it may have been an error, that it was just a misprint, because this market was the only glimmer of hope I had left.
"Ah…"
The clerk's voice trailed off with something akin to shame, and I had to hold back the wave of putrid disgust that rose in the back of my throat. He has the audacity to feel shame, to know that he is ruining our lives, yet not enough to want to do anything about it.
"Business has been rough. Boss made it mandatory. Sorry."
He didn't look me in the eyes. Too afraid of what he'd see? I thought ironically to myself, knowing that in my oversized, ragged clothes and unkempt beard, I nearly screamed 'slums'.
Wordlessly, I stalked back to the back of the aisle, where I stared at the cans. I hated them too. I hated the boss, I hated the employee who replaced the price tags, I hated the government that led us into this state of absolute misery. I hated the Japanese, for killing our blood and our men, and I hated our own, for foolishly being led off to our own slaughter.
Is this the country my father was so proud to fight for?
Theoretically, I, like anybody who lived amongst these areas, knew what theft was. It was beginning to get more common than not, with the slowly dwindling supplies of food and the ever skyrocketing prices of sustenance. Yet, with some off-brand pang of pride, I could boast that I never had to resort to such measures.
Out of fear, mostly. The consequences were far too deadly. In our small town, word spread like wildfire wherever you went. Pickpockets and thieves were more frowned upon than any other being, for stealing and taking what little others had. You would be outcast forever, any hopes of attaining a job or an escape out of this ghost town, completely evaporated and dissipated into thin air.
Now though, the temptation was rising, with every situation I imagined. I no longer lived with my sister, father, and mother – the hollowness in their eyes became too much to bare, but my wife. My quietly beautiful, gentle, intelligent wife, Qianqian. I winced, thinking of how she would try to hide the rumbling of her stomach throughout the night. Qianqian, who already scrapes her plate with her fork instead of eating. In the end, it was a surprisingly easy decision. I couldn't really even say it was an intended choice; my hands swiped one can, then another, a third, and then a fourth, into the pockets and bags of my clothes and in my hands. By the time I fully realized what I was doing, it was far too late to change anything.
My heart beat a steady pulse in my veins as my eyes darted around, trying to see if anything, or anyone, saw what I just did. Perhaps the deities were graceful upon me that day, perhaps they decided to bless me with fortune, because the store was almost entirely empty. Those that were there were so preoccupied with their own business, head tilted down, purposely avoiding any human contact, that they never even saw the atrocity I had just committed.
As I began my trek back home, a strange giddiness overcame me. I would live and survive yet another day.
The most important aspect though, I noted, my fingers tracing the toothed edges of the coins in my pockets, was that I didn't even have to spend the two Yuan here. I felt like a child again, who had just gotten a toy they wanted, for the way my feet danced below me and for the way I felt as if I could float. The very mere thought of it filled my bones with anticipation, and I could hardly wait for the sun to sink any lower, for the streaks of sienna to paint themselves across the sky before settling into a midnight hue.
"I'll be going down to walk around," I called out to nobody in particular after our supper was complete, already making my way to the door.
There is no response. I didn't expect any.
"Give me something good today." Was the only introduction I needed as I strided into the local underground bar, the heavy oak door creaking as I pushed it open, its protest cutting briefly through the murmur of friendly chatter of strangers and the clinking of glass. The warm scent of beer and saccharine sweet floated through my nose. The dim glow of golden lamps and candles gave the small space a rather cozy feel, dulling my senses.
"Ah. Taihan. Back so soon?" The bartender smiled, rings clinking together as he juggled various jugs and glasses through his hands.
"I need something to keep the cold out," I replied. Feeling far more sociable and benevolent than usual, I nodded and gave him a small smile. With my right hand, I dug around in my pockets, finding the treasure I was looking for.
"Get me something good." I repeated, before slamming the two Yuan down, followed by other coins and bills that I had collected and saved from my job.