Big Breasts & Wipe Hips: A Novel

dipped a feather into the oil, and spread it on the axle and the hubs of the wheels. Her puffy hands looked like baked sorghum cakes. “Let’s go into that stand of trees to rest awhile,” Mother said after she finished oiling the cart. After so many days on the road, Shengli and Big and Little Mute had gotten used to doing what they were told without so much as a whimper. They knew that riding in the cart cost them their right to object to anything. The freshly oiled wheels now sang out loudly. Not far off the path was a desiccated patch of sorghum with dried-out buds on the dark tassels, some pointing to the sky, others sagging to the ground.
    As we drew up to the trees, we discovered a hidden artillery blind with dozens of cannon barrels, looking like the necks of aging turtles. Tree branches had been used as camouflage; the wheels were mired deeply in the ground. A row of cases lay on the ground behind the big guns, the open ones revealing artillery shells neatly stacked and looking quite pampered. The gun crews, all wearing camouflage headgear, were squatting or standing under trees, drinking water out of enamel bowls. A cauldron with iron handles sat on a rack over an open fire behind them. Horsemeat was cooking in the cauldron. How did I know it was horsemeat? I spotted a horse hoof, ringed with long hairs, like goat whiskers, poking up over the top, a horseshoe glinting in the sunlight. The cook was putting the branch of a pine tree into the fire. Flames licked skyward as the liquid in the cauldron roiled and steamed, causing the pitiful horse’s leg to tremble nonstop.
    A man who looked like an officer came running up and gently urged us to turn around and head back. Mother replied with cold self-assurance. “Captain,” she said, “if you force us to leave, we have no choice. But we will just have to find another way around the place.” “Don’t you fear for your lives?” the man said, clearly puzzled. “You’re not afraid of losing your family to artillery fire? You don’t know how powerful these guns are.” “We’ve come this far not because we’re afraid of death, but because death is afraid of us,” Mother replied. The man stepped aside. “You’re free to go where you want.”
    We moved on, traveling through an alkaline wilderness. We had no choice but to follow along behind Mother. Actually, we were following along behind Laidi. Throughout our arduous journey, Laidi pulled the cart like an uncomplaining beast of burden and, when necessary, stopped to fire the rifle at anyone who threatened our safety when we stopped for the night, for which she earned my admiration and respect.
    The deeper we went into the wilderness, the harder the going on the heavily trampled road. So we moved off the road and onto the alkaline ground. Unmelted snow made the ground look like a head with scabies, the occasional clump of dead grass like tufts of hair. Though danger seemed to lurk in the area, noisy flocks of larks still flew overhead and a cluster of wild rabbits the color of dead grass set up a skirmish line before a white fox, attacking it with high-pitched whoops. Having suffered bitterly and nursing deep hatred for the fox, they mounted a heroic charge. Behind them, a bunch of wild goats with finely chiseled faces moved up in fits and starts, and I couldn’t tell if they were backing up the rabbits or just curious.
    Something in the grass glittered in the sunlight. Zaohua ran over, picked it up, and handed it to me across the cart. It was a metal mess kit. Inside were little golden-fried fish. I handed it back to her. She picked up one of the fish and offered it to Mother, who said, “None for me. You eat it.” Zaohua ate the fish daintily, like a cat. Big Mute reached out from the basket with his dirty little hand and grunted, “Ao!” Little Mute did the same. Both boys had square, gourdlike faces, eyes high up on their heads, which made their foreheads seem smaller than normal. Their noses were flat, with long grooves that led to wide mouths and short, upturned upper lips that failed to hide their yellow teeth. Zaohua looked over at Mother to see what she should do. But Mother was looking off into the distance. So Zaohua picked up two of the fish and gave them each one. Now the mess kit was empty, except for a few scraps of fish and little spots of oil. She licked it clean. “Let’s rest awhile,” Mother said. “We don’t have far to go before we should be able to see the