Big Breasts and Wide Hips Read Online Free PDF Page A

setting father and son squirming, as if their bowels or bladders were about to betray them.
    Shangguan Lü knelt on the ground in front of the donkey’s belly, oblivious of the filth, a look of solemn concentration on her face. Rolling up her sleeves, she rubbed her hands together, creating a grating noise like scraping the soles of two shoes together. Laying her cheek against the animal’s belly, she listened attentively with her eyes narrowed. Then she stroked the donkey’s face. “Donkey,” she said, “go on, get it over with. It’s the curse of all females.” Then she straddled the donkey’s neck, bent over, and laid her hands on its belly. As if planing a board, she pushed down and out. A pitiful bray tore from the donkey’s mouth and its legs shot out stiffly, four hooves quaking violently, as if beating a violent tattoo on four drums, the jagged rhythm bouncing off the walls. It raised its head, left it suspended in the air for a moment, then brought it crashing back to earth with a moist, sticky thud. “Donkey, endure it a while longer,” she murmured. “Who made us female in the first place? Clench your teeth, push … push harder …” Holding her hands up to her chest to draw strength into them, she took a deep breath, held it, and pushed down slowly, firmly.
    The donkey struggled, yellow liquid shot out of its nostrils as its head jerked around and banged on the ground. Down at the other end, amniotic fluid and wet, sticky feces sprayed the area. In their horror, father and son covered their eyes.
    â€œFellow villagers, the Jap horse soldiers have already set out from the county seat. I’ve heard eyewitness accounts, this is not a false alarm, run for your lives before it’s too late …” Sima Ting’s shouts entered their ears with remarkable clarity.
    Shangguan Fulu and his son opened their eyes and saw Shangguan Lü sitting beside the donkey’s head, her own head lowered as she gasped for breath. Her white shirt was soaked with sweat, throwing her solid, hard shoulder blades into prominent relief. Fresh blood pooled between the donkey’s legs as the spindly leg of its foal poked out from the birth canal; it looked unreal, as if someone had stuck it up there as a prank.
    Once again, Shangguan Lü laid her twitching cheek against the donkey’s belly and listened. To Shangguan Shouxi, his mother’s face looked like an overripe apricot, a serene golden color. Sima Ting’s persistent shouts floated in the air, like a fly in pursuit of rotting meat, sticking first to the wall, then buzzing over to the donkey’s hide. Pangs of fear struck Shangguan Shouxi’s heart and made his skin crawl; a sense of impending doom wracked him. He lacked the courage to run out of the barn, for a vague sense of foreboding told him that the minute he stepped out the door, he’d fall into the hands of Jap soldiers — those squat little men with short, stubby limbs, noses like cloves of garlic, and bulging eyes, who ate human hearts and livers and drank their victims’ blood. They’d kill and eat him, leaving nothing behind, not even bone scraps. And at this very moment, he knew, they were massing in nearby lanes to get their hands on local women and children, all the while bucking and kicking and snorting like wild horses. He turned to look at his father in hopes of gaining solace. What he saw was an ashen-faced Shangguan Fulu, a blacksmith who was a disgrace to the trade, sitting on a sack of hay, arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked back and forth, his back and head banging against the wall. Shangguan Shouxi’s nose began to ache, he wasn’t sure why, and tears flowed from his eyes.
    With a cough, Shangguan Lü slowly raised her head. Stroking the donkey’s face, she sighed. “Donkey, oh donkey,” she said, “what have you done? How could you push its leg out like that?