He stops like a radio being abruptly switched off. We are both quiet for a while, chasing other rabbits to pet. Fourth sits on the floor, with a gray rabbit in his arms. He keeps rubbing the rabbit’s belly. “When will your father come back from desert? Come back from desert?” He asks without looking up.
I have told him that my father went to some place in the Gobi Desert to help build medical clinics. Fourth has a habit of repeating many things, and this question is one of them.
“I don’t know when my father will come back. Soon,” I answer him the same way I always do. “How did your father die, Fourth?” I ask to divert his attention.
His father’s death is something he loves to talk about. His mother dictated to him the story of his father and he repeats it to everyone. He’s been doing it since he was a child so that he can recite it like a recorder without much stuttering.
“Father died a glorious death,” he says, releasing the rabbit in his arms. “Father was a PLA general. Fought in the Pingjin War against Guo-Min-Dang troops, Dang troops. He used two pistols at the same time. Right before victory he was wounded. Bad wound. When he was surrounded by three enemy soldiers, he set off the grenade and died with the enemies. He sacrificed his young life for the Communist cause, cause. He was only forty-nine-years old. Very young, young.” He wipes the drool from his chin after he finishes.
“Your father was a hero,” I say.
He grins, showing his jagged teeth.
I need to check on VeVe, so I get up to leave. Before I open the shed door, Fourth suddenly says, “Fox crying, fox crying.” He grins with his mouth wide open. “Fox nymph, my Ma said. Fox nymph. Your VeVe—Aunt Rain, fox nymph.”
I know women in the alley gossip about VeVe. They talk about the male recipe seekers who—willingly—chop wood for us, install the stove pipes, and change the ceiling lamps. Men who make coal paddies, and bring loads of cabbage in winter—VeVe and I can’t pull a heavy wood cart like that in snow. The gossiping women who gather in the alley say that some men pretend to be sick just so they can come to see her. They call her “Fox Nymph,” comparing her to a nine-tailed fox spirit who disguises herself as a beautiful woman to seduce men.
“Don’t ever say that again,” I yell at Fourth. “You hear me?” I slap his face.
He touches his cheek, looking like a boy being punished for a reason he can’t understand.
I turn around and run out of the rabbit shed. Crossing the courtyard towards the house, SanNe sees me from inside her house and peers out of the window. She is shockingly obese, and so she doesn’t leave her house much. But she knows everything that happens outside her house.
“Hey girl, is my dumb boy still playing with the stinky rabbits?” she shouts.
“Fourth is in the shed. But he is not dumb,” I reply.
SanNe says something else, but worried about VeVe, I don’t bother to reply.
~~~
四兒戛然止住，就像一個收音機被突然關上。
我們倆都不說話了，去逮兔子玩兒。四兒坐在地板上，在玩一個灰兔，不時的撓一撓兔子的毛茸茸的肚子。“你爸爸什麽時候從沙漠回來?他突然問，從沙漠回來？”
我曾經告訴他我爸爸去很遠的戈壁灘沙漠去開診所了。“我不知道我爸爸什麽時候回來，快了吧。”我說。他每次問我，我都這樣說。為了轉移他的注意力，我問，“四兒，你爸爸怎麽死的?”
四兒最喜歡講他爸爸。他把她媽媽交給他的故事一字不差的重複給別人。他講了那麽多遍，現在可以一氣兒講完，而且一點不結巴。“爸爸是光榮犧牲的，他說，把兔子放下。爸爸是個將軍。打了好多仗。他同時用兩把手槍。從來沒受過傷。有一次，他被敵人包圍。他就拉開了手雷和敵人同歸於盡。他是為國家獻身的。”
講完後，四兒用手背擦了一下嘴角的哈喇子。
“你爸爸是個英雄，” 我說。
他咧嘴笑了，露出一口參差不齊的牙。
我忽然想起了微微，不放心，站起來要走。走到門邊四兒忽然又說，“狐狸精昨晚哭了，狐狸精哭了。”
說這幾個字的時候，他的嘴張得很大。“狐狸精，我媽說的，你媽媽是狐狸精。”
我知道裏弄的女人們都喜歡擠攪舌頭說微微。他們說來向微微討中藥方的男人自願的為我們砍木頭，裝煙筒，或換燈泡。還說有的男人來送煤，冬天的時候送大白菜來。這些都是真的，微微和我推不動地排車，更不用說在雪地裏。嚼舌頭的女人還說有的男人裝病來討藥方就是為來來看微微。她們背後叫她狐狸精，說她是有九條尾巴的狐狸，裝扮成一個漂亮的女人去引誘男人。
“再也不要說那幾個字。” 我轉身走到四兒跟前，扇了他一個耳光，“你聽見了沒有？。”
他捂著臉看著我，像一個被懲罰又不知道犯了什麽錯的小男孩兒。我轉身走出了小木屋。我在院子裏走時， 三奶隔著她家窗子往外看。她身體很胖， 胖到不易出門。 但是外麵的事她什麽都知道。
“姑娘啊， 我那傻小子還在那裏玩兔子嗎？”她嚷。
“四兒是在小木屋裏，” 我說， “但一點都不傻。”
三奶又說了幾句， 但我沒心思和她聊。 心裏惦記微微，她是不是已經停止了研墨。
~~~
