The grocery store
By Terrence Oblong
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The party official held out his clipboard for Lin Chi to sign.
“I’m not signing that,” Lin Chi said angrily, “I never asked for this rubbish.”
Like all grocers, indeed all shops of any description, Lin Chi relied on the state to supply him with produce to sell. He was consequently at the mercy of the latest whim of the party, the decision, in this instance, not to supply any other fruit or vegetable for his store, just one enormous truckload of turnips.
“The people’s will has decreed it,” the official said, “and if you turn away this delivery you will receive nothing else. Your shop will be closed down, or you will be replaced. It is of no concern to me.”
“But turnips!”
“Turnips are the most versatile of vegetables. You can have them roasted,mashed, fried, even raw as a salad, and they are rich in nutrients.”
“And there’s NOTHING else for me. No peas, no cauliflower, no aubergine, no sweet potato?”
“The party has decreed that choice is confusing and unnecessary. Western capitalism is plagued by too much choice, as a result their people eat filth: fat, sugar, salt and chemical additives that rot their corpulent western bodies. No additives here, just nutritious, healthy turnips.”
Lin Chi signed the form. He had no choice, if he refused this delivery it would be the end of his career. At best he would lose his shop and his income, at worst it would be seen as a ‘political act’ and he would be taken away to a camp of correction.
It was going to be a tough few days. Hopefully the glut of turnips would prove to be one of the frequent bouts of overproduction and by the time of the next delivery other vegetables would return, but until then, his entire income would rely on the people’s love of the turnip.
The first customer was Xiang Hu, an old comrade and friend of Lin Chi, who was always first in the store, rising early as he did, to trudge the city seeking work.
“What delights have you got for me today?” he asked. “Something special, maybe ’ll be cooking a feast later to celebrate getting a job. I feel this is my lucky day.”
“It is your lucky day,” Lin Chi said, “I have a fresh delivery, just in. Turnips. As many turnips as you want, no limit.”
“Turnips?” Xiang Hu pulled a face. Do you not have any aubergines?”
“No, no aubergines.”
“What about pumpkin. A small, baby pumpkin, full of flavour. Perfect.”
“No, no pumpkin. Just turnips.”
“What about cauliflower, a nice cauliflower for me to fry, or maybe eat raw.”
“No, no cauliflower, and before you go on, I should remind you, I have only turnips."
“No cabbage, no cucumber, no lettuce!”
Lin Chi shook his head. “Don’t focus on the negative Xiang Hu, turnips are the most versatile vegetable there is. You can use them in a stirfry, in pies, as a roast, in casseroles, even raw as a salad.”
“Yes Lin Chi, but it would be turnip salad, turnip casserole, turnip pie, turnip roast. Well, I had better buy something I suppose. I’ll take two glorious peoples’ turnips.”
“A sensible choice.”
“Will you have something else tomorrow?”
“If the party wills it.”
“We’re at the mercy of the party and their mismanaged attempts at production. It makes you wonder why we went to war.”
Lin Chi gave him a strange look. “No it doesn’t. This is exactly why we went to war, we fought against communism, against the government, have you forgotten?”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten my friend, I am reminded every day by the pain in my leg as I hobble the city streets, by the rumble of my empty stomach as I struggle to live on lost hope and foul air. But look at the cost of our fighting, I’m blacklisted and have worked just a few days this year, you are
stuck with running a grotty grocers selling turnips. With your education, your creativity you should be a high flyer, an intellectual, the world should be your oyster. No, we should have sat out the war, waited until it was over and then backed the winner.”
“At least we’re alive. They allow me to work, you’ll find work eventually. Here, your turnips, you can pay me when you find a job.”
“You’re too good to me, Lin Chi. Good luck with the turnips my friend.”
Lin Chi would need good luck. It would prove a long, hard day as he explained to every single one of his customers that he no artichokes, no kumquats, no mangos, no lychees and no, he definitely had no bananas. Some of his customers bought turnips, but only after much moaning and muttering.
He was relieved when it was finally time to close for the day. Maybe tomorrow would bring new vegetables. He could but hope. However, just as he was about to close the shutters, a stranger entered. Strangers didn’t pass through Lin Chi’s store, it wasn’t that sort of neighbourhood.
“I’m sorry friend,” he said, “but we have only turnips today. If you come back tomorrow I might be able to offer you an alternative.
The old man looked at him and smiled. “If god chooses to bless us with turnips then we should thank the gods for their generosity. I will take three turnips and will make a feast.”
However, the old man’s words were lost on Lin Chi, who was gaping at him, his jaw literally hanging loose.
“Are you all right?” the old man said.
“It’s you isn’t it?” Lin Chi said. “They said you were dead.” For Lin Chi recognised the stranger. He had never met him, it is true, but he had seen his picture, on coins, in newspapers, on literature circulated amongst his army comrades. This was the person he had fought for all those years ago. This was the Emperor.
The old man said nothing for a while, busying himself choosing his turnips. At last he chose to acknowledge Lin Chi’s words.
“It is best that people think that I am no more. It is less complicated, less provocative. Here, let me give you something for these turnips.
“I cannot take payment …” Lin Chi started to say, but was silenced when he realised the coin was an old imperial coin, bearing the face of his customer. It was, of course, no longer legal tender, worthless in the fiscal sense, but a treasure to one such as Lin Chi, who had been willing to die for the imperial cause.
“Keep it,” the old man said, “just in case.”
The old man left the store.
Though Li Chi was shocked to see the Emperor reduced to this, living off turnips, without so much as a single servant, his visit had left him with something to cherish, the coin, the single imperial coin, and with it the faintest hope that one day it would become legal tender once more.
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Comments
Needs a bit of proof-reading,
Needs a bit of proof-reading, but something to warm our hearts. On this day, we really do need hope.
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