Big Breasts & Wipe Hips: A Novel

climb an embankment as her song continued:
I look up and see that I am face-to-face with four ravenous wolves …
The four fleet-footed men in painted faces who had laid out the mats came somersaulting through the gate. They surrounded my sister and reached out to claw her, like cats closing in on a mouse. The man whose face was painted like a raccoon sang out in a strangled voice:
I am the Japanese platoon leader Tatsuda, on the lookout for a pretty young girl. I’ve heard there are some real beauties in Northeast Gaomi. I look up and see a lovely face right in front of me. Hey, there, young lady, come with me, an Imperial soldier, for a good life.
The men pounced on my sister, who turned as stiff as a board. Holding her high over their heads, the four “Jap devils” took a turn around the mats. The drums and cymbals beat a frenzied rhythm, like an approaching storm. The audience crowded anxiously up to the stage. “Put my daughter down!” Mother screamed as she rushed up to the stage. I stood up straight in my carrying pouch; the feeling that action brought would return later in life as I rode on horseback. Mother reached out and, like an eagle swooping down on a rabbit, dug into the eyes of “Platoon Leader Tatsuda.” With a cry of alarm, he released my sister, and so did the other three men, letting her drop hard onto the mat. The three actors scampered off the stage, leaving “Platoon Leader Tatsuda” in the grip of Mother, who wrapped her legs around his waist and tore at his face and head with her fingernails. Second Sister got up and wrapped her arms around Mother. “Mother, Mother!” she shouted. “We’re just acting, it isn’t real!”
    Members of the audience ran up and pulled Mother off “Platoon Leader Tatsuda.” His face a mass of bloody scratches, he turned and ran in through the gate as if his life depended on it. Gasping for breath, her anger not yet spent, Mother said, “Who dares try to take advantage of my daughter, which one of you dares to do that?” “Mother,” Second Sister spat out angrily, “you have ruined a perfectly good play!” “Listen to me, Zhaodi,” Mother said, “let’s go home. We can’t take part in plays like that.” She reached out to take Second Sister’s arm, but Zhaodi shook her off. “Mother,” she hissed, “don’t make me lose face in front of all these people!” “You’re making
me
lose face,” Mother replied. “Come home with me right now!” “I’m not going to,” Second Sister said, just as Sima Ku came onstage singing loudly:
Vm riding my horse home after blowing up a bridge
… He was wearing riding boots and an army cap, and carrying a leather crop. Seated upon an imaginary horse, he stomped on the ground and moved forward, rising and falling in concert with the imaginary reins he was holding, as if galloping on horseback. The pounding of drums and crash of cymbals shook the heavens, string and bamboo instruments rose in harmony; above it all, the strains of a flute tore through the clouds and firmament, driving the soul out of the body of anyone within earshot, not from fear, inspired but not afraid. Sima Ku’s face was as cold and hard as cast iron, somber as death, not a trace of shallow slyness:
Suddenly I hear turmoil on the riverbank, and I whip my horse to make it go faster
— A two-string
huqin
made the sound of a horse’s whinnies:
Hui-er hui-er hui-er hui
…
my heart’s on fire, my horse runs like the wind, normal steps made in one, three steps made in two
… Faster and faster the drums and cymbals, stomp-stomp, moving ever forward, a hawk’s turn, a split in the air; an old ox gasps for air, the lion dances atop the embroidered ball — Sima Ku performed every acrobatic trick he knew on the straw mat; hard to believe that a heavy medicinal plaster was still stuck to his backside. Second Sister anxiously pushed Mother, who was still grumbling, back into the audience, where she belonged. Three men acting as Japanese soldiers rushed into the center of the stage, bent over at the waist, planning to lift Second Sister over their heads again. “Platoon Leader Tatsuda” was nowhere to be found, so it was up to the other three; two of them lifted her head and shoulders, the third held her feet, his painted face sticking up between her legs. It was such a funny sight that the audience couldn’t help but giggle, and that turned to laughter when he made a funny face. So then he started hamming it up, and the audience