Big Breasts & Wipe Hips: A Novel

lucky to make it past tomorrow.”
    One of the others said, “If Sima Ku is the man they say he is, he should give himself up. These days he can hide in the green curtain of crops. But come winter, he’ll be out in the open.”
    “That son-in-law of yours is one strange tiger. Late last month, a squad of police had him surrounded in a patch of reeds at White Horse Lake, but he got away and managed to kill seven or eight pursuers with one burst of his machine gun. Even the squad leader was wounded in the leg.”
    The militiamen seemed to be hinting at something, I wasn’t sure what. But they had let slip news about Sima Ku: after showing himself at the brick kiln, he had disappeared like a pebble in the ocean. We’d wanted him to fly high and far, but he’d stayed close to Northeast Gaomi, raising chaos and bringing us nothing but trouble. White Horse Lake was just south of Two County Hamlet, no more than three or four miles from Dalan.
8
    At noon the next day, Pandi rode up from the county seat. Filled with anger, she was intent on making the district officials pay for what they’d done. But she had calmed down by the time she walked out of the office of the district chief, who came with her to see us. Not having seen her for six months, we didn’t know what she was doing at county headquarters. She’d lost a lot of weight, but the dried milk stains on her blouse showed that she was nursing. We glared at her. “Pandi,” Mother asked, “what have we done wrong?” Pandi looked at the district chief, who was staring out the window. As her eyes filled up with tears, she said, “Mother … be patient… trust the government… the government would never hurt the innocent…”
    At the same time that Pandi was trying awkwardly to console us, out in the Scholar Ding family graveyard in the dense pine grove beyond White Horse Lake, Cui Fengxian, a widow from Sandy Mouth Village, was rhythmically pounding the tombstone over the grave of Scholar Ding, with its carved commendation for his heroic deeds. The crisp sounds merged with the
du-du-du
of a woodpecker at work on a tree. The fanlike white tail feathers of a gray magpie slipped through the sky above the trees. After pounding on the marker for a while, Cui Fengxian sat before the altar to wait. Her face was powdered, her clothes neat and clean; a covered bamboo basket hung from her arm, all of which gave her the appearance of a newly married young woman on a trip to her parents’ home. Sima Ku stepped out from behind the grave marker, causing her to jump back in fright. “You damned ghost!” she cursed. “You scared me half to death.” “Since when is a fox spirit like you afraid of ghosts?” “So that’s how it is,” she said, “still as sharp-tongued as ever.” “What do you mean, that’s how it is? Everything is wonderful, never better.” He added, “Those local turtle-spawn bastards think they’ll capture me, do they? Ha ha, dream on!” He patted the automatic rifle draped across his chest, the chrome-plated German Mauser in his belt, and the Browning pistol in its holster. “My mother-in-law wants me to leave Northeast Gaomi. Why would I want to do that? This is my home, the place where my ancestors are buried. Fm intimate with every blade of grass, every tree and mountain and river. This is where I get my enjoyment, and it also has a flaming fox spirit like you, so, I ask you, why would I want to run away?” Off in the reedy marshes a startled flock of wild ducks took to the air, and Cui Fengxian reached out and clapped her hand over Sima Ku’s mouth. He wrenched her hand away and said, “Nothing to worry about. I've taught the Eighth Route Army a lesson over there. Those ducks were frightened off by vultures.” Cui dragged him farther back into the graveyard, where she said, “I’ve got important news for you.”
    They threaded their way through a thicket of brambles on their way into a large vault. “Aiya!” Cui Fengxian yelped as a bramble pricked her finger. Sima Ku slipped his machine gun over his head and lit a lantern, then reached back and grabbed her hand. “Did it break the skin?” he asked. “Let me see.” “It’s fine,” she replied as she tried to pull her hand back. But he’d already stuck the finger in his mouth and was sucking hard. She moaned. “You’re a damned vampire.” Sima Ku spat her finger out, covered her mouth with his, and grabbed hold of her breasts with his large, coarse hands. She