Big Breasts & Wipe Hips: A Novel

packed that some people were actually hanging out the windows. Parrot Han walked around to the rear of the bus and climbed the ladder up to the luggage rack, where he drew back the netting, secured the caged parrots, and then reached down for Jintong’s traveling bag. Somewhat fearfully, Jintong followed his bag up to the luggage rack, where Parrot Han pulled the netting over him. “Little Uncle,” he said, “hold tight to the railing. Actually, that’s probably unnecessary. This bus is slower than an old sow.”
    The driver, a cigarette dangling from his mouth and a mug of tea in his hand, walked lazily up to the bus. “Parrot,” he shouted, “you really are a birdman! But don’t blame me if you fall off there and wind up as roadkill.” Parrot Han tossed a pack of cigarettes down to the driver, who caught it in the air, checked the brand, and put it in his pocket. “Not even the old man in the sky can handle someone like you,” he said. “Just drive the bus, old-timer,” Parrot Han said. “And do us all a favor by not breaking down so often!”
    The driver pulled the door shut behind him, stuck his head out the window, and said, “One of these days this beat-up old bus is going to fall apart. I’m the only one who can handle it. You could change drivers if you wanted, but then it wouldn’t even leave the station.”
    The bus crept out onto the gravel road to Northeast Gaomi Township. They met many vehicles, including tractors, coming from the opposite direction, carefully passing the slow-moving bus, the wheels sending so much dust and gravel into the air that Jintong didn’t dare open his eyes. “Little Uncle, people say you got a raw deal when they sent you up,” Parrot Han said, looking Jintong in the eye. “I guess you could say that,” Jintong said mildly. “Or you could say I deserved it.” Parrot handed him a cigarette. He didn’t take it. So Parrot put it back in the pack and glanced sympathetically at Jintong’s rough, callused hands. “It must have been pretty bad,” he said, looking Jintong in the face again. “It was okay once I got used to it.” “There have been a lot of changes over the past fifteen years,” Parrot said. “The People’s Commune was broken up and the land parceled out to private farmers, so everyone has food on their table and clothes on their back. The old houses have been torn down under a unified program. Grandma couldn’t get along with that damned old lady of mine, so she moved into the three-room pagoda that used to belong to the old Taoist, Men Shengwu. Now that you’re back, she won’t be alone.”
    “How … how is she?” Jintong asked hesitantly.
    “Physically she’s fine,” Parrot said, “except for her eyesight. But she can still look after herself. I’m not going to hide anything from you, Little Uncle. I’m henpecked. That damned woman of mine comes from a hooligan proletarian family, and doesn’t know the first thing about filial piety. She moved in, and Grandma moved right out. You might even know her. She’s the daughter of Old Geng, who sold shrimp paste, and that snake woman — she’s no woman, she’s a damned snake temptress. I’m putting all my energy into making money, and as soon as I’ve got fifty thousand, I’m kicking her ass out!”
    The bus stopped on the Flood Dragon River bridgehead, where all the passengers disembarked, including Jintong, with the help of Parrot Han. His eye was caught by a line of new houses on the northern bank of the river, and by a new concrete bridge not far from the old stone one. Vendors selling fruit, cigarettes, sweets, and the like had set up their stalls near the bridgehead. Parrot Han pointed to some buildings on the northern bank. “The township government moved its offices and the school away, and the old Sima family compound has been taken over by Big Gold Tooth — Wu Yunyu’s asshole son — who built a birth control pill factory, and makes illicit liquor and rat poison on the side. He doesn’t do a damned thing for the people. Sniff the air,” he said, raising one hand. “What do you smell?” Jintong saw a tall sheet-metal chimney rising above the Sima family compound, spewing clouds of green smoke. That was the source of the stomach-churning smell in the air. “I’m glad Grandma moved away,” Parrot Han said. “That smoke would have suffocated her. These days the slogan is ‘Eight Immortals Cross the Sea, Each Demonstrating His Own Skills.’ No more