Big Breasts and Wide Hips by Mo Yan
Sima Ku was sitting on an abandoned China fir pole, his head sagging onto his chest, his hair in total disarray. Second Sister lay across his knees, her head cradled in the crook of his arm, face-up, the skin of her neck pulled taut. Her mouth hung slack, a black hole in her ghostly white face. Second Sister was dead. Babbitt was sitting close to Sima Ku; his young face had the look of an old man. The upper half of Sixth Sister’s body lay across Babbitt’s knees, and it never stopped twitching. Babbitt stroked her shoulders with a hand made puffy by all the rain. Behind the decrepit gate, a skinny man was preparing to kill himself. His trousers had fallen down to his thighs, revealing underpants that were soiled by mud. He wanted to tie his cotton belt to the top of the doorframe, but couldn’t reach that high, even when he jumped; he was so weak he barely left the ground. I saw by the way the back of his head protruded that it was Sima Liang’s uncle, Sima Ting. Finally, too exhausted to try any longer, he reached down, pulled up his trousers, and retied his belt around his waist. He turned and gave the crowd of onlookers an embarrassed smile before plopping down in the mud and beginning to sob.
The morning winds blew in from the fields, like a wet cat with a glistening carp in its mouth, prowling arrogantly on the sheet-metal roof. The red morning sun climbed out of the hollows, filled with rainwater, dripping wet and exhausted. The Flood Dragon River was at flood stage, the crashing of its waves louder than ever in the morning quiet. We were sitting on the millstone, where our gaze was met by misty red sunbeams. The glass in the windows was spotless after a night of unremitting rain; August fields, obstructed by neither the building’s roof nor trees, were right there in front of our eyes. Outside, the flow of rainwater had washed the street clean of dust and exposed the hard chestnut-colored ground below. The surface of the street shimmered as if varnished; a pair of not quite dead striped carp lay in the street, tails still flapping weakly. A couple of men in gray uniforms — one tall, the other short; the tall one skinny, the short one fat — were staggering down the street carrying a big bamboo basket filled with a dozen or more big fish, including striped carp, grass carp, even a silvery eel. Excited by the sight of the two fish on the street, they ran over — stumbled, actually, like a crane and a duck tied together. “Big carp!” the short, fat one said. “Two of them!” the tall, skinny one said. I could nearly make out their faces as they bent down to scoop up the fish, and I was pretty sure they were two waiters from the banquet after Sixth Sister and Babbitt’s wedding, a couple of planted agents from the 16th Battalion. The men standing guard at the mill house watched them scoop up the fish. The platoon leader yawned as he walked up to the men. “Fat Liu and Skinny Hou, this is what’s called finding balls in your pants and landing fish on dry ground.” “Platoon Leader Ma,” Skinny Hou said, “it’s a tough assignment.” “Not really, but I am hungry,” Platoon Leader Ma replied. Fat Liu said, “Come over for some fish soup. A victory like ours deserves a reward of good food and drink for the soldiers.” Platoon Leader Ma said, “You’ll be lucky if those few fish are enough for you cooks, let alone the soldiers.” “You’re an officer, whatever your rank,” Skinny Hou said. “And officers need to back up what they say with proof, they must temper their criticisms with political necessities. There is no room for irresponsible talk.” “I was just joking. Don’t take everything so serious!” “Skinny Hou,” Platoon Leader Ma said, “in the few months since I last saw you, you’ve picked up the gift of gab!”
While they were squabbling, Mother walked slowly and heavily, but with determination, toward us, a red sunset at her back. “Mother —” I sobbed as I jumped down off the millstone. I wished I could have flown into her arms, but I slipped and fell in the mud at the foot of the millstone.
When I came to my senses again, the first thing I saw was Sixth Sister’s agitated face. Sima Ku, Sima Ting, Babbitt, and Sima Liang were all standing beside me. “Mother’s here,” I said to Sixth Sister. “I saw her with my own eyes.” I struggled out of Sixth Sister’s grasp and ran toward the door, where I bumped into someone’s shoulder. That rocked me for a moment, but then I took off again, cutting through the crowds of people. The gate stopped me. Pounding it with my fists, I cried out, “Mother — Mother —!”
A soldier stuck the black muzzle of his tommy gun in through a hole in the gate. “Pipe down! We’ll let you out after breakfast.”
Mother heard my shouts and began walking faster. She waded across the ditch at the side of the road and headed straight for the mill house. Platoon Leader Ma stopped her. “That’s far enough, elder sister!”
But Mother reached up, pushed him out of the way, and kept walking without a word. Her face was encased in the red light, as if smeared with blood; her mouth was twisted in anger.
The guards quickly closed ranks, forming a line like a black wall.
“Stop right there, old lady!” Platoon Leader Ma ordered as he grabbed Mother’s arm and would not let her proceed any farther. Mother strained to break his grip. “Who are you, and what do you think you’re doing?” Platoon Leader Ma asked angrily. He jerked her backward, nearly causing her to fall.
“Mother!” I cried through the door.
Mother’s eyes turned blue and her twisted mouth flew open, releasing a series of grunts. She broke for the door with no thought for anything else. But Platoon Leader Ma shoved her from behind, knocking her into the roadside ditch. Water splashed in all directions. Mother rolled once in the water and clambered to her knees. The water reached her navel. She crawled out of the ditch, drenched, muddy bubbles clinging to her hair. She’d lost one of her shoes, but hobbled forward on crippled bound feet.
“I said stop right there!” Platoon Leader Ma cocked his tommy gun and aimed it at her chest. “Are you trying to incite a jailbreak?” he fumed.
“Get out of my way!”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I want to find my son!”
My crying got louder. Sima Liang, who was standing next to me, shouted, “Granny!”
Sixth Sister yelled, “Mother —”
Moved by our weeping, the women in the mill house began to sob. Their sobbing mixed with the sounds of men blowing their noses and the guards’ grumblings.
Nervously, the guards made an about-face and pointed their weapons at the rotting gate.
“Stop that racket!” Platoon Leader Ma shouted. “You’ll be out of here soon.” Then he turned to Mother. “Go on home, elder sister,” he said comfortingly. “As long as your son hasn’t done anything wrong, you have my word we’ll let him go.”
“My child,” she moaned as she ran around Platoon Leader Ma and headed for the gate.
Platoon Leader Ma jumped in front of her. “Elder sister,” he said, “I’m warning you. One more step and I’ll have no choice but to take action.”
“Do you have a mother? Are you human?” She reached up and slapped him, and then set out again, rocking back and forth. The guards at the gate parted to make way for her.
Platoon Leader Ma, holding his cheek, shouted, “Stop her!”
The guards just stood there, as if they hadn’t heard him.
Mother was at the doorway. I reached out through a hole in the door, waved, and shouted.
Mother pulled on the rusty lock, and I could hear her labored breathing.
The lock clanged loudly and a round of gunfire tore crisply through the door, sending chips of rotting wood raining down on me.
“Don’t move, old lady!” Platoon Leader Ma screeched. “I won’t miss the next time!” He fired another shot into the air.
Mother jerked the lock free and pushed the door open. I rushed up and buried my head in her bosom. Sima Liang and Sixth Sister were right behind me.
From behind us, someone shouted, “Make a break for it, men. It’s our only chance!”
The men of the Sima Battalion rushed the door like a tidal wave, their hard bodies knocking us out of the way. I fell, and Mother fell on top of me.
Chaos reigned in the mill house —
Units of the 16th Regiment came running down the street, shouting and firing their weapons. Sima Battalion soldiers scattered, but were cut down by a merciless fusillade.
In the midst of all this activity, we flattened our backs against the mill house wall and pushed away everyone who came close to us.
An old 16th Regiment soldier fell to one knee beneath a poplar tree, held his rifle in both hands, closed one eye, and took aim. The rifle jerked upward, and a Sima Battalion soldier fell. More shots were fired, the spent cartridges falling into the water, where they sizzled and created steamy bubbles. The old soldier aimed again, this time at a big, swarthy soldier who had already run several hundred yards to the south. He was hopping through a bean field like a kangaroo, heading toward the bordering sorghum field. The old soldier unhurriedly pulled off another round, the crack hanging in the air when the runner fell head over heels in the field. The old soldier pulled back the bolt of his rifle, ejecting a shiny cartridge that arched end over end in the air.
Amid all that was going on, Babbitt caught my eye. He was like a brainless mule in a herd of sheep. With animals baaing all around him, he pushed and shoved, eyes big as saucers, clomped through the mud with heavy hooves, kicking the sheep out of his way as he went. Speechless Sun was like an ebony tiger, swishing his sword over his head as he led a dozen fearless swordsmen to block the sheep’s way. Heads rolled, bloodcurdling screams blanketed the wilderness. Surviving sheep turned to run, seemingly lost, trying to escape any way they could. Babbitt froze and cast blank looks all around. He came to his senses as the mute charged him, and he bolted toward us as fast as he could run, gasping for breath, white foam filling the corners of his mouth. The old soldier took aim at him.
“Old Cao, hold your fire!” Lu Liren shouted as he bounded out of the crowd. “Comrades, don’t shoot that American!”
The men of the 16th Regiment formed a human net, closing ranks as they drew nearer. The prisoners were still trying to get away, but they were like fish caught in the net, and before long they had all been herded onto the street in front of the mill house.
The mute charged into the gang of prisoners and drove his fist into Babbitt’s shoulder, the force of the blow spinning him in a complete circle. Face-to-face with the mute again, he babbled something in his own language, which could have been loud curses and could have been a highly vocal protest. The mute raised his sword, which glinted in the sunlight. Babbitt raised his arms, as if to ward off the cold shards of light.
“Babbitt —” Sixth Sister jumped up from beside Mother and stumbled forward. But she fell before she’d taken more than a few steps, her left foot sticking out from under her right leg as she lay in the putrid mud.
“Somebody grab Speechless Sun!” Lu Liren commanded. Members of the mute’s fearless squad grabbed his arm. Savage grunts tore from his throat as he lifted the soldiers holding him into the air like rag dolls. Jumping across the ditch, Lu Liren raised his arm. “Speechless Sun,” he called out, “remember the policy on prisoners!” Speechless Sun stopped struggling when he saw Lu Liren, and his comrades let go. He stuck his sword in his belt, reached out and grabbed Babbitt’s clothes with fingers like steel pincers, and dragged him away from the other prisoners, all the way up to where Lu Liren was standing. Babbitt said something to Lu Liren in his foreign tongue. Lu Liren responded briefly in the same language, punctuated by slashing gestures. Babbitt quieted down. Sixth Sister reached out to him and moaned, “Babbitt..."
Babbitt leaped across the ditch and pulled Sixth Sister to her feet. Her left leg hung limp, as if dead, and he had to hold her up with his arm around her waist. Her filthy dress, which looked like a wrinkled onionskin, crept up as her pale buttocks began slipping toward the ground. She hung on to Babbitt’s neck, who hooked his arms under her armpits. The two of them, husband and wife, were standing — sort of. When Babbitt’s sad blue eyes fell on Mother, he hobbled toward her, carrying Sixth Sister, who could no longer walk. “Mama,” he said in Chinese, his lips quivering, large tears creeping out of his eyes.
Water sluiced down the ditch as Platoon Leader Ma shoved the corpse of a Sima Battalion soldier off of him and climbed slowly to his feet, like a gigantic toad. His raincoat was spattered with water, blood, and mud, the patterns on a toad’s back. His legs were bent as he stood up, quaking fearfully, pitifully, sort of like a bear, if you didn’t look closely, but like a hero if you did. One of his eyes had been gouged out and hung alongside his nose like a shiny marble. Two of his front teeth were missing and blood dripped from his steely chin.
A soldier with a first-aid kit rushed up to keep him from falling. “Commander Shangguan, this man is badly wounded!” she shouted, her slight frame bent over by the weight of his body.
At that moment, Pandi, with all her bulk, came running over ahead of two porters with a stretcher. A tiny army cap sat atop her head, the brim sticking out above her broad, full face; only her ears, which poked out from under her pageboy, retained the delicate beauty of a Shangguan girl.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she jerked Platoon Leader Ma’s eye loose and tossed it away; it rolled around on the muddy ground for a moment before coming to rest and staring up at us hostilely. “Commander Shangguan,” Platoon Leader Ma said as he sat up on the stretcher and pointed at Mother. “Tell Battalion Commander Lu that this old lady broke down the gate …”
Pandi wrapped Platoon Leader Ma’s face in gauze, round and round until he couldn’t open his mouth. Then she stood in front of us and called out to Mother tentatively.
“I’m not your mother.”
“I told you once,” Pandi said, “that the river flows east for ten years and west the next ten. Look at the mud on your feet when you step out of the water.”
“I’ve seen it,” Mother said. “I’ve seen it all.”
Pandi said, “I know everything that’s happened in the family. You took good care of my daughter, Mother, so I absolve you of all guilt.”
“I don’t need your absolution. I’ve lived long enough.”
“We’ve taken back our land, all of it,” Pandi said.
Mother gazed up at the scattered clouds in the sky and muttered, “Lord, open Thine eyes and take a look at this world …”
Pandi walked up and, with no show of emotion, rubbed my head. I could smell the disagreeable odor of medicine on her hand. She didn’t rub Sima Liang’s head, and I assumed he wouldn’t have allowed her to. He was grinding his feral little teeth, and if she’d tried to rub his head, he’d probably have bitten her finger off. She smiled sarcastically as she turned to Sixth Sister. “You’ve done well. The American imperialists are supplying our enemies with airplanes and artillery. They’re helping our enemies slaughter people in the liberated areas.”
With her arms wrapped around Babbitt, Sixth Sister said, “Let us go, Fifth Sister. You’ve already killed Second Sister. Is it our turn next?”
At that moment, Sima Ku dragged the body of Zhaodi out of the mill house, laughing hysterically. Moments earlier, when his soldiers had made their mad dash out of the building, he had stayed behind. Known for his meticulous dress, the buttons of his tunic always clean and shiny, Sima Ku had changed overnight. His face was like a bean that had swelled up in the rain and then baked dry in the sun, crisscrossed with white wrinkles. His eyes were lifeless, the hair on his large head spotted with gray. He dragged Second Sister’s bloodless body up to Mother and fell to his knees.
Mother’s mouth was twisted to one side, her cheekbones jerking up and down so violently she couldn’t utt
Sima Ku let go of Second Sister’s corpse and walked toward Lu Liren, who was surrounded by a dozen or more bodyguards as he walked toward the mill house. He stopped when he was a couple of paces from the other man. Two pairs of eyes were locked, seemingly in mortal combat, sparks flying, as if from crossed swords. No victor emerged after several rounds. Three dry laughs emerged from Lu Liren’s mouth: “Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha!” They were met with three from Sima Ku: “Heh heh! Heh heh! Heh heh heh!”
“I trust you’ve been well since we last met, Brother Sima,” Lu said. “It was a year ago that you drove me from the area. I’ll bet you never imagined the same fate would befall you one day!”