Every day little old Ah Ming spends even more time in the dumpster than the trash collector does. She goes through it after dark, she goes through it the morning. The trash collector starts work before the sun comes up, but she’s already gone through everything. Anything that can be sold has been nabbed, and everything else is left strewn across the ground. It’s hard to pick up, so he hates Ah Ming. Sometimes the old woman isn’t quick enough, and the two of them cross paths. The trash collector curses at her and chases her off with a broom. When he’s feeling extra assertive, he’d go as far as to shove her to the ground.
Beat it, grandma! His voice rings out clearly, as though he wants everyone to know he’s caught her in the act. After a few times, even the little dog turns against Ah Ming. It starts barking furiously when she’s near, and as soon as it spots her, it charges after her until she turns and runs in fright.
Her neighbors hate her most. She reeks. At noon, when it’s 38 degrees and there’s no one on the street, but one of the trash bins in the row is tilted slightly forward, you know Ah Ming is on an after-lunch treasure hunt. Back doubled over, head hidden, only the lower half of her body is visible. Both hands sift through the contents and toss things into a burlap rice sack. When she gets to the bottom of the bin, she’s practically folded herself inside. After a while, a sour stench clings to her body, and people on the street hold their nose and turn away. When people come to take out the trash and Ah Ming is digging around inside, some of the crueler neighbors will just roll their eyes, give a shrug, and toss their garbage bags on top.
Tattered rags, broken toys, aluminum cans, styrofoam slabs: there’s nothing she won’t take. No one knows what she wants all that stuff for, they just see her, well over seventy, carrying her burlap sack upstairs, dumping it out, carrying it back down, making several trips a day, with a stench trailing behind her that reeks to high heaven. She’s still holed up in the ground floor garage. Her neighbors knock on the door to tell her clean up, and she begrudgingly throws a few things out, but the putrid smell just can’t be gotten rid of.
People can’t figure it out: an old woman with a good pension, who knows everyone in her building, who could behave respectably and ought to know better, wants to spend her time rooting around in a stinking dumpster. They can’t make sense of it, they can only talk: she’s lost it, she’s really lost it.
阿明老太太每天在垃圾桶里投入的时间比捉垃圾的人还要多。天黑了翻，隔一夜再翻，捉垃圾的人天不亮就上工，附近却早被她翻过一遍了。如果有什么能卖钱的物什，也统统都被掠走了。剩下的垃圾则被弄得满地都是，难以打扫，因此他恨极了阿明。有时老太太手脚慢了，两人恰好撞上，捉垃圾的人叫骂着挥起扫帚赶她，手重了直接推倒在地上。
老太婆，滚远点！捉垃圾的人喉咙响梆梆，好像要让大家都晓得他抓了个现形。抓多了，甚至连小狗也对阿明产生了敌意，老远就开始狂吠，一见到就穷追，把老太太吓得赶紧跑路。
最厌弃阿明的还是她的邻居，她身上的味道太重了。三十八度的中午，路上不见几个人，却见一排垃圾桶里有一只微微倾斜，便晓得阿明吃过饭又钻进去寻宝了。弓着背，不见头，只露出一个下半身和一只米袋子，两只手边翻边往里头塞东西。翻到底部，整个人几乎要沿着桶对折过去。钻久了，身上黏着一股酸臭味儿，路过的人都捏着鼻子躲开。脾气差的男人出来倒垃圾，碰到阿明在里面，翻一个白眼，索性直接把垃圾扔上去了。
碎布头，破玩具，易拉罐，塑料板，没有什么是阿明不要的，人们也不晓得老太太要这些来做什么。只见她七十好几的人，提着麻袋上楼，倒空，再提下楼，一天跑进跑出好几趟，留下屋里面臭气熏天，自己仍蜗居在底楼的小车库里。邻居敲门叫她清理，她勉强扔出去一些，可是那股腐烂的气味，恐怕是怎么也驱不走了。
人们想不通，一个老太太好好地拿着退休金，厢里厢邻的都认识，都要面孔，做点什么不好，偏偏要去钻臭翻天的垃圾桶。他们解释不清，只能讲，真真是变死啊，变死。
Click here to go back to the original article or visit the Neocha Shop to purchase a copy of Jiedao Jianghu.
Copyright Wang Zhanhei. For any reproduction requests please contact the author.
