Red Sorghum

distillery?’ Spotted Neck asked him.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What do you want here?’
    ‘To pay my respects to an expert and learn from him.’
    Spotted Neck sneered. ‘Don’t you go down to the river to shoot fish for target practice every day?’
    ‘I can’t get the knack of it.’
    Spotted Neck held up Granddad’s pistols and looked down the barrels, then cocked them. ‘Fine weapons. What are you practising with these for?’
    ‘To use on Nine Dreams Cao.’
    ‘Isn’t he your old lady’s foster-dad?’
    ‘He gave me three hundred and fifty lashes with the sole of his shoe! All because of you.’
    Spotted Neck laughed. ‘You murdered two men and took possession of their woman. You deserve to have your head lopped off.’
    ‘He gave me three hundred and fifty lashes!’
    Spotted Neck raised his right hand and pulled off three quick shots –
pow pow pow
– then did the same with his left. Granddad sat down hard on the ground, buried his head in his arms, and screeched. The bandits roared with laughter.
    ‘How could a scared rabbit like that murder anyone?’ Spotted Neck wondered aloud.
    ‘He saves his courage for sex,’ one of the bandits said.
    ‘Go home and take care of business,’ Spotted Neck said. ‘Now that the Gook is dead, your home will be the contact point.’
    ‘I want to learn how to shoot so I can kill Nine Dreams Cao!’ Granddad repeated.
    ‘I hold the life of Nine Dreams Cao in the palm of my hand, and I can take it from him any time I want,’ Spotted Neck said.
    ‘Does that mean I’ve wasted my time coming here?’ Granddad asked unhappily.
    Spotted Neck tossed Granddad’s two pistols to him. He barely caught one; the other landed on the ground, its muzzle buried in the mud. He picked it up, shook off the mud, and wiped the barrel on his sleeve.
    One of the bandits walked up to blindfold Granddad, but Spotted Neck waved him off. ‘No need for that,’ he said as he stood up. ‘Come on, let’s take a bath in the river. We’ll walk part of the way with the proprietor here.’
    One of the bandits led the mule. Granddad fell in behind the animal, followed by Spotted Neck and his gang of bandits. When they reached the riverbank, Spotted Neck looked at Granddad with a cold glint in his eyes. Granddad wiped the mud and sweat from his face. ‘I guess I was wrong to come,’ he said, ‘wrong to come. This heat’s enough to kill a man.’
    He took off his muddy clothes, casually tossed the two pistols onto the pile of clothing, then ran down to the river and dived in, splashing around like a fritter in hot oil. His head bobbed up and down; his arms flailed like those of a man trying to pull up a clump of water grass.
    ‘Doesn’t he know how to swim?’ one of the bandits asked.
    Spotted Neck just snorted.
    ‘He’ll drown, chief!’
    ‘Go in and drag him out!’ Spotted Neck ordered.
    Four bandits dived in and carried Granddad, who had swallowed a caskful of water, up to the bank, where he lay like a dead man.
    ‘Bring his mule over,’ Spotted Neck said.
    One of the men led the mule over.
    ‘Lay him across the mule’s back,’ Spotted Neck said.
    The bandits lifted him up onto the mule’s back, his bloated belly pressing down on the saddle.
    ‘Make it run!’ Spotted Neck said.
    With one bandit leading the mule, another behind, and two more holding on to Granddad, the mule trotted down the riverbank; by the time it had travelled about the distance of two arrow shots, a murky column of water shot out of Granddad’s mouth.
    The bandits lifted Granddad off the mule and laid him out naked on the dike. He looked up at the tall, hulking Spotted Neck with eyes as dull as those of a dead fish.
    Spotted Neck removed his rain cape and said with a friendly smile, ‘You just got a new lease on life, young man.’
    Granddad’s ashen cheeks twitched painfully.
    Spotted Neck and his men stripped and dived into the river. Excellent swimmers, they had a frolicking water fight, sending sprays of the Black Water River flying in all directions.
    Slowly Granddad got to his feet and draped Spotted Neck’s rain cape over his shoulders. After blowing his nose and clearing his throat, he flexed his arms and legs. His saddle was dripping wet, so he dried it off with Spotted Neck’s clothes. The mule touchingly stretched its satiny, glistening neck towards Granddad. He patted it. ‘Be patient, Blackie, be patient.’
    Granddad picked up his pistols as the bandits swam towards the riverbank