Big Breasts and Wide Hips
The VIP applauded lightly to show his appreciation for Pandi’s impassioned speech. All the county and district officials, as well as the armed guards, joined in the applause.
Sleepyhead wasn’t finished. “Sima Ku is only one man, but he had four wives, while I have none. Is that fair?”
The VIP frowned.
Lu Liren said, “We don’t need to go into that, Zhang Decheng.”
“No?” Sleepyhead argued. “That’s the source of my bitterness. I may be Sleepyhead, but I’m a man, aren’t I? I’ve got a man’s tool hanging between my legs …”
Lu Liren walked up to Sleepyhead to stop the performance and raised his voice to drown out Sleepyhead’s monologue. “Fellow villagers,” he said, “Zhang Decheng’s words may be a little coarse for our ears, but his meaning is clear and undeniable. Why can some men take four, five, or more wives, while somebody like Zhang Decheng here can’t even find one?”
Debates broke out below the stage, and many eyes turned to Mother, whose face darkened; but there was no sign of anger or hate in her eyes, which were as serene as a placid lake in autumn.
Pandi nudged Sleepyhead. “You can go back down now.”
He took a couple of steps and was about to climb down off the stage when he was reminded of something. He turned and walked up to Zhao Six, grabbed him by the ear, and gave him a resounding slap. “You son of a bitch,” he growled. “Today’s your day too. You probably forgot the time you used the authority you received from Sima Ku to mistreat me!”
Zhao twisted his neck and drove his head into Sleepyhead’s belly. With a yelp, Sleepyhead fell to the ground and rolled off the stage.
The mute rushed up and kicked Zhao Six to the ground. Then he stepped down on Zhao’s neck, twisting the poor man’s face out of shape. He was gasping for breath, but even then he cried out like a man possessed, “You’ll never get me to admit a thing, never! Where’s your conscience? Your crimes are unspeakable …”
Lu Liren bent down to ask the VIP what to do. The man banged his red inkstone on the table, the sign for Lu Liren to read from a slip of paper: “Rich peasant Zhao Six has lived by exploiting others. During the war against Japan, he fed their fellow travelers. When Sima Ku governed the area, he supplied food to bandit soldiers. Now that land reform is underway, he has spread ugly rumors in open defiance of the People’s Government. If a die-hard element like him is not killed, the people’s anger will never be quelled. In the name of the Northeast Gaomi County People’s Government, I hereby sentence Zhao Six to death, judgment to be carried out at once!”
Two of the soldiers picked up Zhao Six and dragged him off like a dead dog. When they reached the weedy edge of the pond, the men backed away to let the mute step up and put a bullet in the back of Zhao’s head. His body lurched into the water. With the smoking gun still in his hand, the mute walked back onto the stage.
The terrified prisoners on stage began banging their heads on the ground. By then they’d all soiled themselves. “Spare me, spare me …” The cooking oil shop proprietress, Old Jin, crawled on her knees up to Lu Liren and wrapped her arms around his legs. “County Head Lu,” she sobbed, “spare me. I’ll give everything to the villagers — my oil, my sesame seeds, all my family property, I won’t keep anything, not even a chicken-feed trough — just don’t take my life. I’ll never do business that exploits people again …” Lu Liren tried to break free of her grasp, but she held on for dear life until an official came up and pried her fingers away. She then crawled toward the VIP. “Take care of her!” Lu Liren commanded. The mute raised his pistol and struck her in the temple. Her eyes rolled up into her head as she fell backward, her single breast pointing at the gloomy sky.
“Who else wants to pour out their bitterness?” Pandi shouted down at the crowd.
Someone began to wail. It was the blind man, Xu Xian’er, who propped himself up on a yellow bamboo staff.
“Lift him up onto the stage,” Pandi said.
No one did. So he made his way toward the stage by tapping his staff on the ground; people jumped out of his way. Then two officials hopped down and hoisted him up onto the stage.
Filled with hatred, Xu Xian’er banged the ground with his staff, punching holes in the loose dirt.
“Speak your piece, Uncle Xu,” said Pandi.
“Commander,” Xu Xian’er said, “can you really exact revenge for me?”
“Don’t worry. You see what we did for Zhang Decheng just now.”
“Then Fll say it,” he said, “I’ll say it. That bastard Sima Ku drove my wife to her grave, and my mother died of anger because of it. He owes me two lives.” Tears fell from his blind eyes.
“Take your time, uncle,” Lu Liren said.
“In the fifteenth year of the Republic, 1926, my mother spent thirty silver dollars to get me a wife, the daughter of a beggar woman in West Village. She sold a cow and a pig, plus two pecks of wheat, and all she got was thirty silver dollars. Everyone said my wife was pretty, but that word — pretty — spelled disaster. Sima Ku was only sixteen or seventeen at the time, but even at that age he was no good. Since his family had money and power, he made a habit of coming over to my house to sing and play his two-stringed huqin. Then one day he took my wife to see a local opera, and after he brought her home, he had his way with her. My wife swallowed opium and died, which upset my mother so much she hanged herself… Sima Ku, you owe me two lives! I want the government to right the wrong for me …”
He fell to his knees.
A district official came over to pull him to his feet, but he said, “I won’t get up if you won’t avenge me …”
“Uncle,” Lu Liren said, “Sima Ku will not escape the net of justice, and when we catch him, we will redress this injustice.”
“Sima Ku is a sparrow hawk, the king of the skies,” the blind man said. “You’ll never catch him. So I ask the government to repay one life with another. Execute his son and daughter. Commander, I know you’re related to Sima Ku, but if you are a true dispenser of justice, you’ll honor my request. If you let personal feelings get in the way, then Xu the blind man will go home and hang himself, so Sima won’t be able to get to me when he returns.”
“Uncle,” Lu Liren managed to blurt out, “every grievance has its target, every debt has its creditor. A person must be held responsible for his deeds. Since Sima Ku caused the deaths, only Sima can be held accountable. The children are blameless.”
Xu struck the ground with his staff. “Fellow villagers,” he called out, “did you hear that? Don’t let yourselves be fooled. Sima Ku has run away, Sima Ting is in hiding, and the children will be grown before you know it. County Head Lu is related to them, which counts for a great deal. Fellow villagers, alive Xu Xian’er is only this staff, and dead he is little more than food for the dogs. Compared to you, I am nothing, but, fellow villagers, do not be fooled by these people …”
Pandi blew up: “Old blind man, your demands are unreasonable!”
“Miss Pandi,” Xu the blind man said, “you and the rest of the Shangguans are impressive. When the Jap devils were here, your eldest brother-in-law, Sha Yueliang, was in charge. Then during the reign of the Kuomintang, your second brother-in-law, Sima Ku, ran roughshod over the area. Now you and Lu Liren are in charge. You Shangguans are flagpoles that cannot be cut down, boats that cannot be overturned. Someday, when the Americans rule China, your family will boast a foreign son-in-law…”
Sima Liang’s face had turned ghostly white; he was clutching Mother’s hand. Sima Feng and Sima Huang hid their faces in Mother’s armpits. Sha Zaohua was crying. So was Lu Shengli. So, too, after a while, was Eighth Sister, Yunii.
Their crying drew the attention of people both on and below the stage. The gloomy VIP looked down at us.
Xu Xian’er may have been blind, but he knelt right at the feet of the VIP. “Sir,” he howled tearfully, “stand up for this old blind man!” He banged his head on the ground as he howled, until his forehead was covered with dirt.
/> Lu Liren looked at the VIP, pleading with his eyes; the VIP returned his look with an icy stare that was as sharp as a knife. Lu’s face was beaded with sweat that dampened his headband, making it look like a wound on his forehead. No longer calm and at ease, he alternated between looking down at his feet and gazing out at the crowd below, the courage to make eye contact with the VIP long gone.
Pandi had also lost the poise of a district commander. Her face was bright red, her lower lip trembled. “Blind old Xu,” she shouted in the tone of a countrywoman, “you’re trying to stir up trouble! What has my family ever done to you? That slutty wife of yours seduced Sima Ku and took him out into the wheat field. Then when they were caught, she swallowed opium because she couldn’t face decent folk. Not only that, people said you used to bite her all night long, like a dog. She showed people the scars on her chest, did you know that? You were the cause of your wife’s death. What Sima Ku did was wrong, but most of the blame falls on you! So if anybody is to be shot, I say we start with you!”
“You heard that, didn’t you, exalted sir?” Blind Xu said. “Cut down the wheat stalks, and a wolf appears.”
Lu Liren quickly stepped in to mediate for Pandi. He tried to pull Xu Xian’er away, but Xu turned to jelly and would not be moved. “Uncle,” Lu said, “you are right to demand the execution of Sima Ku, but not of his innocent children.”
Xu Xian’er argued, “What were Zhao Six’s crimes? All he did was sell a few buns. It was a personal dispute with Zhang Decheng, wasn’t it? But you folks said shoot him, and that’s what you did. Esteemed County Head, I won’t rest until you execute Sima Ku’s descendants.”
Someone below the stage said softly, “Zhao Six’s aunt was Xu Xian’er’s mother, which makes them cousins.”
An unnatural smile was frozen on Lu Liren’s face as he walked hesitantly up to the VIP and, looking embarrassed, said something to him. The man caressed the glossy inkstone in his hand as a murderous look spread across his gaunt face. He glared at Lu Liren and said icily, “Do you really expect me to deal with something this insignificant?”
Lu took out a handkerchief to mop his sweaty brow, then reached back and tightened the headband, turning his face waxen. He walked up to the front of the stage and announced in a loud voice, “As the government of the masses, we carry out the wishes of the people. So now I leave it up to you. All those in favor of executing Sima Ku’s children, raise your hands.”
Infuriated, Pandi asked him, “Have you lost your mind?”
The villagers below the stage bowed their heads. No raised hands and no sound.
Lu Liren cast a questioning glance at the VIP.
With a sneer, the VIP said to Lu Liren, “Try again, but this time ask how many are in favor of not executing the children of Sima Ku.”
“All those in favor of not executing Sima Ku’s children, raise your hands.”
They kept their heads down; no raised hands and no sound.
Mother slowly rose to her feet. “Xu Xian’er,” she said, “if it’s a life you demand, then you can have mine. But your mother didn’t hang herself, she died of a blood hemorrhage that had its origin during the bandit era. My mother-in-law took care of her funeral arrangements.”
The VIP stood up and walked to the open space behind the stage. Lu Liren quickly followed. There the VIP spoke to Lu softly but rapidly, raising his soft white hand and slicing it downward, like a knife. Then he walked off, surrounded by his bodyguards.
Lu Liren remained standing there, his head bowed, like a piece of petrified wood, for a long moment before snapping out of it. Finally, he headed back, walking as if his legs were made of lead, and stared down at us with madness in his eyes. His eyeballs seemed frozen in their sockets. He looked pathetic up there. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak:
“I hereby sentence Sima Liang, son of Sima Ku, to death, to be carried out immediately! And I sentence Sima Feng and Sima Huang, daughters of Sima Ku, to death, also to be carried out immediately!”
Mother’s body rocked, but only for a moment. “I dare any of you to even try!” she said as she took the two girls in her arms. Sima Liang alertly threw himself to the ground and began crawling slowly away from the stage. The crowd shielded him.
“Speechless Sun, why aren’t you carrying out my orders?” Lu Liren roared.
“Your damned mind is addled,” Pandi cursed, “giving an order like that!”
“My mind’s not addled, it’s clear as can be,” Lu said as he pounded his head with his fist.
Hesitantly, the mute climbed down off the stage, followed by two soldiers.
Once he’d crawled to the rear of the crowd, Sima Liang jumped to his feet and ran past two sentries as he scrambled up the dike.
“He’s getting away!” a soldier up on the stage shouted.
A sentry unshouldered his rifle, pulled back the bolt, sending a bullet into the chamber, and fired into the air. By then, Sima Liang was already well hidden in the bushes on top of the dike.
The mute and his men walked up to us. His sons, Big and Little Mute, gaped at him with lonely, haughty looks in their eyes. He reached out with an iron claw; Mother spat in his face. He pulled back his claw and wiped the spittle off his face, then reached out again. Mother spat a second time, but with less force; the spittle landed on his chest. With a twist of his neck, he looked back at the people on the stage. Lu Liren was pacing back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. Pandi was resting on her haunches, her face buried in her hands. The faces of the county and district officials and those of the armed soldiers seemed set in clay, like temple idols. The mute’s rock-hard jaw twitched out of habit. “Strip!” he said. “Strip, strip …”
Mother stuck out her chest and demanded shrilly, “Kill me first, you bastard!” Then she threw herself at him and clawed at his face.
The mute reached up and rubbed his face, then raised his hand to his eyes to see if anything was stuck to his fingers. That went on for a moment before he put his fingers up to his nose and sniffed them to see if he could detect any special odor. He then stuck his tongue out and licked his fingers to see if there was any special taste. That was followed by a series of grunts as he reached out and shoved Mother, who settled weightlessly to the ground. We threw ourselves on top of her, crying the whole time.
The mute picked us up, one at a time, and flung us out of the way. I landed on the back of some woman; Sha Zaohua landed on my belly. Lu Shengli landed on the back of an old man; Eighth Sister landed on the shoulder of an older woman. Big Mute was hanging from his father’s arm, and no amount of shaking could loosen his grip. He bit his father on the wrist. Little Mute had his arms wrapped around his father’s leg and was gnawing on his bony knee. With one kick, the mute sent that son head over heels, right into the head of a middle-aged man. Then he swung his arm with all his might, sending Big Mute flying into the lap of an old woman, a chunk of his father’s flesh in his teeth.
Picking up Sima Feng in his left hand and Sima Huang in his right, he strode off, taking high steps, as if walking through mud. W7hen he reached the front of the stage, he flung the two girls up onto it, one after the other. They both screamed for their grandmother and jumped down off the stage, only to be caught by the mute, who tossed them back up. By then, Mother had struggled to her feet and was staggering toward the stage; she fell before she’d taken more than a couple of steps.
Lu Liren stopped pacing and said dismally, “All you poor peasants, I ask you, am I or am I not a man? Can you not imagine how I feel about having to shoot these two little girls? My heart aches. They’re only children, after all, and relatives of mine to boot. But for that very reason, I have no choice but to swallow my tears and sentence them to death. Gome out of your stupor, my friends. By executing Sima Ku’s children, we avoid taking the wrong path. On the surface, we’ll be executing two children. And yet it’s not children we’ll be executing, but a reactionary, backward social system. We will be executing two symbols! Rise up, friends. You’re ei
ther revolutionary or counterrevolutionary, there’s no middle ground!” He was shouting so loudly he was overcome by a coughing fit. His face paled and tears gushed from his eyes. A county official stepped up and began thumping him on the back, but Lu waved him off. Once he’d caught his breath, he bent over and spat out a gob of mucus. Sounding like a man suffering from consumption, he managed to gasp, “Carry out the sentence!’
The mute hopped up onto the stage, grabbed the two girls, and carried them over to the pond, where he dropped them to the ground and backed up ten or fifteen paces. The girls wrapped their arms around each other; their long, thin faces seemed coated with gold powder. They looked at the mute with terror in their eyes as he took out his pistol and raised it heavily. His wrist bled and his hand shook from the exertion of raising the pistol, as if it weighed twenty pounds. Then — pow — a shot rang out. His hand jerked up from the recoil as blue smoke spewed from the muzzle; then his arm dropped weakly. The bullet passed over the girls’ heads and thudded into the ground in front of the pond, sending mud flying.
A woman came sailing down the weedy path along the base of the dike, a sloop in the wind, clucking loudly like a mother hen driving her brood of chicks ahead of her. The moment she appeared beneath the dike, I saw it was First Sister, who had been excused from the meeting on the basis of being mentally disturbed. As the widow of the traitor Sha Yueliang, she should have been high on the list of those to be executed, and if people had known about her one-night stand with Sima Ku, she’d have been shot twice. Seeing her throw herself into the net had me worried sick, but she ran up to the pond and planted herself in front of the two girls. “Kill me,” she shouted like a madwoman, “kill me! I slept with Sima Ku, and I am their mother!”
The mute’s chin twitched again, a sure sign that troubling waves were billowing in his heart. He raised his pistol and said gloomily, “Strip — strip — strip —”
Without a second thought, First Sister undid the buttons of her blouse and exposed her perfect breasts. The mute stared straight ahead, his eyes snapping into place; his chin twitched so violently it seemed about to fall off. Cupping his hand under his chin to keep it in place, he opened his mouth and sputtered, “Strip — strip — strip!” First Sister obediently removed her blouse; she was naked from the waist up. Her face was dark, but her body glistened like fine porcelain. On that gloomy morning, she stripped to the waist and engaged the mute in a battle of wills. He walked up to her on bowed legs, looking like a baked snowman, crumbling piece by piece — first an arm, then a leg, intestines coiling on the ground like a snake; a red heart beating in his cupped hands. All those scattered parts came back together with great difficulty when he knelt at First Sister’s feet and wrapped his arms around her waist. His big head rested against her belly.