Ghost Month (29 page)

Jenny held up the black robe, which was heavily embroidered in red, yellow and green at the cuffs, collar and borders. The leggings and gloves were made of red, yellow and green fabrics.

“Look at the patterns,” said Nancy. “It’s like a snakeskin.”

“The Paiwan say they’re descended from a poisonous snake,” said Jenny. “The
paipushe
, the hundred-pacer. If it bites you, your flesh starts to rot immediately and you can’t walk a hundred steps before dying.”

“Am I going to get bit by a snake if I wear this?” asked Nancy. “No, this outfit protects you from snakes,” said Jenny. “They’ll think you’re one of them.”

I pinched the fingers of my right hand together and moved it around like a cobra’s head. Nancy punched me.

“Stop playing games and try this on,” Jenny told Nancy. “The sleeves are a little scratchy, but you’ll get used to it. Don’t forget these necklaces.” Jenny handed her two handfuls of coiled beads.

“How many do I put on?” asked Nancy.

“The more, the better. Go to the back room behind the shower curtain and change. I can make some adjustments if we need them.”

When Nancy was gone, Jenny asked me, “Did you sleep with her?”

“A little bit.”

She pinched my left nipple.

“Ai!
Damn it, that hurts!”

“I think she could be good for you! Everything about her is fantastic. She’s in school?”

“Nancy’s a star graduate student at Taida.”

Jenny nodded slowly, her eyebrows raised. “A smartie! What’s she studying?”

“Bioengineering.”

“Ah, what a waste! She should be modeling while she’s so young!”

“She needs to use her brains.”

“You think models are stupid? There’s nothing harder, mentally. Running a business is a piece of cake compared to the days when I used to model. Sometimes I still do, for special clients.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jenny only shook her head and waved her right hand in the air between us.

Two high-school-aged girls came in and asked to see maid outfits. Jenny narrowed her eyes and evaluated their bodies from head to toe.

“English, French or Japanese?” she asked. “Well, maybe French for you, because you’ve got long legs,” Jenny said to the taller girl before turning to the other one. “And maybe Japanese for you because you’ve got such an innocent-looking face.”

The girls were still looking through the clothes racks when Nancy stepped out before us.

The outfit looked a bit ridiculous, campier than the costumes the “native” people wear in Disney movies. It was definitely the least sexy outfit I had ever seen her in.

“This is really a genuine Paiwan outfit?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” said Jenny. “The gods smile upon anyone who wears this. That’s why it feels so uncomfortable. They feel your suffering and your sacrifice.”

“It hurts, all right,” said Nancy.

“It’s painful to look at, too!” I said. Nancy slapped my shoulder.

“It’s the real thing,” said the girl with the innocent face. “I’m from Pingtung. My grandmother was part Paiwan.”

“Really?” said the long-legged girl. “You don’t look it at all!”

Jenny’s face soured as she looked over Nancy.

“I have to make up for this outfit,” said Jenny, shaking her head. “I’m going to throw in a
binlang xishi
outfit. It will help offset the unfeminine lines of the
tang-ki
robe. Nancy will look good in a thong, I think.”

“Nancy doesn’t need a betel-nut beauty outfit, Jenny.”

“You two can do some role-playing games with it in private,” she whispered with a wink. I saw that Nancy was smiling shyly.

“Charge us for the
xishi
outfit,” I said.

“Please, it’s my pleasure to give sexy clothes to sexy women,” said Jenny.

“But it’s really too much,” objected Nancy.

“No, it’s not very much at all,” said Jenny. “You’ll see.”

M
Y PARENTS AND GRANDFATHER
were regular temple worshippers, but even they used to make fun of people who went to
tang-kis
until my uncle got cancer.

The shaman they went to spat rice wine on them to cleanse their souls and to clear the air. He lit up a loosely wrapped cigar and went into a trance. My uncle had offended the earth god, Tudi Yeye, by disparaging the farming profession. At the time my uncle was a newspaper reporter, and he had indeed just written a story about alleged fraud in some branch of the Executive Yuan’s Council of Agriculture.

After my uncle made a donation to one of Tudi’s temples, the cancer went away. My uncle is currently in remission—in more ways than one. After my parents’ funerals, his own gambling debts forced him to go into hiding, supposedly in the Philippines. I guess debts run in the family.

I
POSITIONED MYSELF IN
the front window of a cafe across the street from the Huangs’ apartment building. I had a good view of the front entrance, and I watched Nancy waddle into the lobby.

I was suddenly seized with doubt. How could this crazy plan work? So many little things could go wrong.

Nancy was supposed to go to the Huangs’ apartment and tell
them that Julia had a message for Mrs. Huang alone to hear. They would have to go to the ancient Guandu Temple in the mountainous Beitou District of Taipei. Nancy could fudge something to tell Mrs. Huang.

As soon as Mrs. Huang was out of the way, I would go up and see Mr. Huang alone.

I sipped my café au lait and picked at a
lu dou peng
. The little pastry was dry on the outside and the baked green-bean filling was like crumbling plaster. You’re really supposed to eat this thing with tea, but the waitress hadn’t batted an eye when I asked for coffee. Anna, as her name tag read, was a sloucher just trying to make it through her interminable shift, but her body below the shoulders looked so great in her French-maid uniform, I started thinking about seeing Nancy in something like it in the distant future, when everything had settled down.

Look at me. I was already thinking like a dirty old man like Ah-ding. I shook my head and bit into my pastry, sending pieces of the flaky crust flying everywhere. The waitress, who was sitting at the next table over and playing with her phone, took notice of my sloppy eating and sighed. More crap for her to clean up.

A man and a woman sitting by the other side of the door were desperately trying to get her attention by waving politely, but it wasn’t working. Tourists from the southern end of the island. This is Taipei, guys. If you want something, you’d better be loud.

I crossed my arms and legs, fortifying myself like the Great Sphinx, eyes fixed on the doorway of the building across the street.

“Excuse me, miss?” called the woman. She was sitting behind the man so I didn’t get a good look at her. Not getting a reaction, she called again, louder. Anna the waitress remained fascinated by something on the phone, but I saw the smallest hint of a wry smile crinkle the corner of her mouth.

I drank more coffee and refocused.

“Miss! Please, miss!”

Anna rolled her head, cracked her neck and brushed her fingers through the ends of her limp perm. She looked at the woman and then the man with barely contained jealousy. Maybe Anna was in a bad relationship.

“Miss, I know you can hear me!”

Anna slapped the table hard.

“I’m on break right now,” she shot back at the woman. Unfortunately, I was directly in the line of fire. “If you need something, you need to tell the man at the front counter!” She fished a set of pink earbuds from her apron and plugged them in.

I took a measured sip of coffee—my plan was to keep myself alert without needing to head for the urinals.

“Hey, now,” the man called to Anna. “I already paid you a good tip! We just want refills on our water and we’ll be going.”

“Why don’t you go now and get a bottle of water from a 7-Eleven?”

The man stood up and brushed off his left and then his right hand. He was about thirty years old and the sort of guy who laughs when he’s angry, because he began to smile.

“Do I have to come over there and stand you up myself?”

“Just stay there and be quiet.”

“Give me back my tip!”

“Sorry, I can’t do that.”

“You little bitch!”

During the entire exchange, I hadn’t taken my eyes from my target for more than a second, but if I didn’t move now, I was in danger of being hit by stray missiles.

I picked up my cup and walked to the corner of the cafe window. “Look, ugly, you’re bothering the other customers!” the waitress yelled.

“You’re the ugly one! That man’s trying to get away from you!”

“Have some respect! It’s obvious that he’s lost his job. Look at the miserable guy!” She called over to me with surprising gentleness, “Everything’s going to be all right. I was there myself a little while ago.”

“Please leave me out of this,” I said as evenly as possible to the window. The Dog Whisperer would have been proud. “I just want to mind my own business.”

“Ha, you see!” said the man. “Nobody cares about you.”

The waitress sprang to her feet and pointed at the couple with both hands. “Get out of my cafe, you stupid lovebirds!”

“We’re not going anywhere.” He sat down to make a point and picked up his phone. “I know some very important people at the police department. You’re going to be sorry.”

Great, the cops. Just the people I wanted to see.

I put down a 200 NT note and set the cup on top of it. I was leaving her a decent tip because it wasn’t worth waiting around for the change. I stood and faced the waitress for three seconds.

“By the way, I have a job!” I said. I flew out of the cafe and stood in the shadow of a column, never losing sight of that door. After about a minute, I realized that there was one thing I should have done before leaving the cafe.

Now, I’ve developed several skills from working at the night market. I am an excellent public speaker in two languages (three, counting Taiwanese as its own language rather than a Chinese dialect). I can count money by touch alone—hand me a wad of bills and coins and I know instinctively if you are trying to rip me off.

I can also hold my pee forever.

I regulated my breathing and strategically crossed my legs. I snapped a steady beat with my left hand. Everything was going to be okay. Incense wafted from an offering table farther down the block. Why did it smell like burning dog food?

I saw Nancy come out of the apartment building alone. Damn it! I was about to lose all hope when she turned around and waved for someone to follow her. Mrs. Huang stepped out tentatively, holding a sun umbrella.

All right, Nancy! I don’t know what you did or said, but it worked. Good girl!

I watched them get into a cab and leave. The driver must have been superstitious, because he leapt out of the cab and opened the door for the
tang-ki
with his head down. The cab left, but I continued to wait another two minutes just in case the car looped back for a forgotten purse or wallet.

When I was convinced they were gone for good, I skipped across the street and entered the lobby. The lock was still busted on the building’s front door, so I swung it open and walked through without bothering to buzz Mr. Huang. I didn’t want him to have advance warning.

Knowing that I was so close to a bathroom triggered something inside me. Soon the floodgates would open.

I rode up and rang the Huangs’ doorbell. Mr. Huang swung open the peephole and said, “Jing-nan?”

“Yes, it’s me. Hello, Mr. Huang. I really want to talk to you and use your bathroom, please.”

“You missed Mrs. Huang by a few minutes. She just went out to a temple.”

“It was you I wanted to see. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You’re not supposed to be here, Jing-nan. I really shouldn’t let you in.” His voice lacked resolve, and already Mr. Huang sounded like he was chastising himself for what he was about to do.

“If you could open the door, Mr. Huang, I’d really appreciate it. This is the last time I will bother you, I promise.”

A pair of pop and click sounds came from the doorframe.

“You never should have come back,” said Mr. Huang as he shook my hand.

I shucked my shoes off as quickly as I could. “I need to use your bathroom,” I said. “Right now.”

“Go ahead.” I heard him snap on the television and crank up the volume.

When I came back into the living room. Mr. Huang held his finger to his lips and pointed to the couch cushion next to his reclining chair. I took the seat. He picked up the remote and cranked the volume even higher on a drama show that was a rip-off of the hit series
Mysterious Incredible Terminator
.

He put his hand on my back and came in close enough for a kiss before whispering, “We have to be quick.”

“Okay,” I whispered back.

“I know why you’re here. You just won’t give up on Julia. You really did love her.”

“Yes.”

Mr. Huang grabbed my knee as he stood up. He pushed back the reclining chair and fished out a box from underneath. It was about the size that could pack a laptop.

“This is the last bit of Julia that I have.” He put it in my hands.
It seemed heavier than it should. “She shared her heart with her mother, but she shared her mind with me.”

“You knew she was back in Taiwan?”

He wiped his forehead. “I knew, but I didn’t tell anybody. Not even her mother.” He wrote the letters “C,” “I” and “A” in his left palm. “You understand?”

Gan!
The fucking CIA!

“That was her job, huh?” I felt my body floating out of itself.

He gave me a curt nod. “I don’t know what she actually did, though, so I don’t know the story of what happened.” He rubbed his left elbow. “What I do know is that she was facing a choice: wait in America for you, or come back here for the job. I told her to just take the job here for now while she was waiting. Julia said it wasn’t that kind of job. Once you went in, you didn’t come back.”

I was so tense I could have pushed my tongue through my clenched teeth. “What did you tell her?” I managed to say.

“This is what I told her,” he said, folding his hands on the arm of his chair. “I said, ‘You and Jing-nan are in love, and nothing is ever going to change that. But it looks like Jing-nan’s not going to make it, stuck at the night market, and he’s so stubborn he will destroy himself before he comes back to you.’ ”