I went back to work. What else could I do? I was just one citizen in a nation of workaholics. A job was a source of pain, comfort and confirmation of one’s identity. Yes, I work at a night-market stall.
Working sure beats sitting around and feeling helpless. A man was going to be killed at 7 o’clock the next day unless some jerk in jail got his retrial. I told the guys about my visit to Taipei Prison and it worked on one level as an episode of comic relief for us all.
“You should’ve farted in their hands,” said Dwayne.
“When I was in prison,” said Frankie, “the guards didn’t stop there.”
I kept checking my phone. The Daily Pineapple, Taiwan’s morally bankrupt media outlet, suggested that the online broadcast of a live murder could be a generation-defining event, as big as the day news broke that Chiang Kai-shek had died and everyone was forced to mourn.
“Tong-tong certainly is not in any way as admirable as the Generalissimo,” the column read. “However, it could prove to be a tragic loss of one of our most prominent businessmen in a truly bizarre public execution. It may be prudent to trim stock positions tomorrow, ahead of his murder.”
Dwayne was on his phone as well. We kept swapping phones to show each other new stories and rumors popping up.
An anonymous blogger was claiming that Tong-tong hadn’t been kidnapped at all and the whole ruse was cooked up in order to trick the chip designer to hand over the architecture.
If Tong-tong had in fact planned this, he hadn’t told his daughter. The panic that I had seen in her eyes couldn’t be faked because she had never panicked before.
Some tasteless jerk autotuned the ransom video and made a song out of it. I regretted being its 23,023rd viewer.
The jujubes were having another hot night but I was feeling frayed from my jailhouse rock. Luckily, Frankie was cool as usual and helped keep our menu items well-stocked. He also encouraged me to lure in particularly indecisive large groups, which needed attention before they split up and half of them went elsewhere. He warned phone-surfing Dwayne when skewers were beginning to char too much. The Cat was as alert as ever, and yet I could tell that even he himself was weighing things carefully in his mind.
Like a lot of relationships in Taiwan, the one that I share with Nancy is guided by restraint, even with our phones. We don’t regularly text or call each other while she’s in class or I’m at work. Generally, we meet up at my place and we update each other as needed.
I hadn’t told her yet about my treatment in prison and was looking forward to doing so after work, but Frankie came up to me as the night was winding down and asked me to go somewhere with him. He literally said “somewhere.”
“Uh, Frankie, where are we going?”
“Just come. There’s a car waiting.”
I scratched my right ear. “I have to make a phone call first.”
“Go ahead.”
I picked up my phone and pressed my only favorited contact. I felt self-conscious about someone being next to me when I talked to Nancy. I know, it makes me sound shy, but that’s how I am about some things. Plus, after a whole night of fake friendliness as Johnny, the real me wants to crawl back into myself. “Excuse me,” I said to Frankie. I walked out to the nearly empty path in front of Unknown Pleasures.
Nancy picked up after a few rings. “Jing-nan?”
“Hey, Nancy, I’m going to be back a little later than I thought tonight. Frankie wants to take me somewhere.”
She sniffed out my vague comment. “Hmm. Hopefully, he’s not taking you to a whorehouse.”
“Nancy, this is serious. I think he’s going to take me to meet one of his gangster friends. Someone who might be able to help Tong-tong.”
That sobered Nancy up. “Okay. I hope it works out.”
“I also want to tell you that I met up with your former sugar daddy in jail.” I paused. “He seems to be on the selfish side. He won’t give me the chip design until I somehow get him a new trial.”
“I don’t think it’s right to call it a selfish request. His original trial and sentencing didn’t seem fair for a number of reasons.”
“That may be true, but why didn’t he just give me the chip design or tell me where it is? He’s in jail but his life isn’t in danger, either.”
“It’s the only thing he has left. Would you help him otherwise?”
“I may not even be able to help him now! Well, I sure can’t before the deadline. Oh, wait, do you know someone named Liu Ju-lan? That’s a friend of his who has some emails that could help.”
“I do remember meeting a Ju-lan before,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “It must be her. I wouldn’t say I knew her well at all, though.”
“Oh, there’s one more thing, Nancy. They thought that Ah-tien might have given me the chip design so the prison guards searched me on the way out. They even grabbed my balls!”
“But you never hide anything back there!”
I told Nancy not to wait up, and in case I disappeared, she was to find Frankie. I joked that if worse came to worst, she could have my record collection including the first printing of Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures LP with the incredibly rare matte cover. I got a good price on it but the outsized shipping cost from the UK had been a known displeasure.
“Don’t say you’re giving me your records,” said Nancy. “It’s bad luck to talk like that. Frankie’s going to make sure you’re safe. You’ll be all right.”
“I’m only kidding around,” I assured her. “Nothing bad could possibly happen. I’m actually going to come out of this healthier than when I went in.”
After I hung up, I began to feel apprehensive. In all the gangster films, it was never the worst enemy the main guy had to worry about. It was the old pal, the best buddy, the most trusted guy in the world who stuck the knife in your neck or cut the rope while you were climbing it.
But, hell, if Frankie wanted to take my life, there wasn’t any way I could prevent it. Anyway, what workers wanted to kill their bosses? They would lose their jobs and go to jail.
I went back to Frankie and told him I was ready. We let Dwayne handle the final closing matters, and the two of us walked down a darkened alley where the stalls had already closed. As we drew closer to the street, Frankie let out a quick high whistle. Two headlights flashed at us.
We came up to a four-door Nissan that was tucked under a tree.
“Take a seat in the back, Jing-nan,” said Frankie.
The door locks clicked as we drew closer. I waited for him to climb into the front passenger seat before I popped open the rear door. I eased my way into the car and nodded to the eyes in the rearview mirror. Frankie slammed his door shut and then I did the same.
The interior lights were off and I wasn’t able to get a good look at the driver. Based on the driver’s wrinkles around the eyes and white eyebrows, I would guess that he was up in Frankie’s territory, in his seventies. I would also guess that he had a taste for being discreet. A baseball cap with a curved brim essentially hid his entire face from any observers on the street.
The driver hunched up his right shoulder and the car started. He stared at me through the mirror and I shivered involuntarily. The eyes were large and indifferent but they weren’t mean. He was an unblinking squid observing a fish haplessly struggling against the suckers of its arms.
Frankie adjusted himself in the front passenger seat as the car pulled away. Where were we going? Forward.
Frankie didn’t seem concerned about our destination. I shouldn’t be either. He tipped his head to a paper doll taped to the dash. “That’s very nice,” said Frankie.
The driver snorted in a lungful of breath. “My granddaughter made it.” The driver’s voice was earthy and gave a profane charm to everything he said.
“Granddaughter, uh?” said Frankie. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak with such tenderness.
Frankie gently stretched out the arms of the genderless figure. It was about three inches long and seemed stricken with severe scoliosis. The crooked smile was bigger than the face.
“Very pretty,” said Frankie. “Right, Jing-nan?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s very cute. Children are amazing.”
“Jing-nan, this is my old friend Fu-xiang.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. I stretched my hand forward and he pressed two fingers against my palm.
He was missing all the other fingers!
I jerked my hand back. His face split open and he burst out laughing. Frankie snickered.
“Jing-nan, you’re worse than my little granddaughter!” Fu-xiang turned over his left hand and showed the other fingers tucked away. He laughed like a rusty gate in the wind and brought the car to a stop at a light. “I thought people who worked in the night market were supposed to be sharp!” A rhombus of white light from a streetlamp hovered on the dashboard and cut across my knees as we pulled away.
Not to stereotype, but older mainlanders in general have more disdain for their younger generations than benshengren do. After seven decades, they still haven’t fully bought into the island mentality that each person, young or old, is important and deserves respect.
Frankie swung down the shade even though it was night, and cupped his right hand against the side of his face. Maybe I should hide my face since the two um, experienced, guys were.
“Why are you guys trying to avoid being seen?” I asked. They both seemed a little surprised. Societal norms dictated that I, as the “child,” remain quiet and only speak when spoken to. However, that went out the window once Fu-xiang pranked me.
“Who’s hiding?” asked Fu-xiang as he laughed some more. “I’m just trying to keep the glare out of my eyes.”
“We’re not supposed to be together,” said Frankie.
Fu-xiang noisily blew air out of his mouth before speaking again. “Jing-nan, let’s put it this way. There’s never a reason to be seen. Why would you want someone to know where you are, where you go, who you’re with and what you do? I’ll bet your parents don’t know where you are right now. You didn’t tell them, right?”
My back suddenly felt itchy and I pressed myself against my seat. “Both my parents are dead,” I said.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry to hear that, Jing-nan. Yeah, I think I remember Frankie saying something like that.”
“You think you remember because I did tell you,” said Frankie in a measured monotone.
We came to another stop and Fu-xiang tilted his head. “Well, you know what? Since they’re dead, they actually might know where you are. They’re probably happy because there’s no safer place to be in Taipei than when you’re with me and Frankie, trust me.”
Trust him? We hadn’t even been together long enough to go two stops on the MRT. I was in the car of a man I didn’t know going who knew where. Now, I could trust Frankie with my business and my life. In Taiwan, they were probably equally important, if not the same. One was no good without the other.
My thoughts turned to Ah-tien. He had to be planning a personal and professional comeback because the shame of the public trial hadn’t destroyed his ego.
We headed south and soon we were on a bridge over Tamsui River. I saw the Taipei 101 skyscraper to the east, a white jade pendant hanging from heaven in the night.
Fu-xiang snorted and then cleared his throat. “Jing-nan, there’s something else Frankie told me that I remember quite well,” he said. “You want to know who could be behind this Tong-tong thing.”
“Yes.”
“Well, let me tell you something, Jing-nan. Kidnapping and abductions are so nineties. Nobody does it anymore. Low-profile crimes are much more profitable in the long run. You could make more money selling fake iPhones in the countryside than abducting a businessman.”
“The kidnappers don’t want money,” I said.
His rusty laugh came at me hard. I was going to need a tetanus shot after. “Ah, they don’t even want money! What does that tell you, Jing-nan?”
“That it’s not about money?”
Fu-xiang joyously tapped the roof of the car hard. God, these old mainlanders are so excitable! “You know what, Jing-nan? You see the obvious. Seriously, that’s a skill. It’s something Chiang Kai-shek could never do. He never realized that he had lost China for good. Retake the mainland, my ass.”
I thought I saw Frankie flinch. Fu-xiang continued.
“Anyway, of course it’s not just about money. But what else is important? Chinese people aren’t always good about passing down money through the generations, but what do they always give their children? Oh, never mind, I don’t have enough gas in my tank to wait for you to guess right. Revenge! We love revenge! You don’t get it, you benshengren. The Japanese perverted you in the colonial era. They bred a submissive streak in you to make you bend to the divine emperor!”
Shortly after crossing the bridge, we slowed and pulled close to the outside curb.
“I don’t think we’re allowed to stop here,” I said.
“Who’s stopping?” spat Fu-xiang. I looked through the windshield and saw that we were drawing nearer to a small exit partially hidden by the flowering branches of a weeping willow. The tree lightly raked the roof of the car as we took the exit. We found ourselves on a dirt road that tilted down and took us to the edge of the river. Reflected lights sparkled and quivered across the water’s surface.
Fu-xiang parked and killed the lights.
“It’s nice to come here at night and relax a little with old friends and hammer out business.” He eased back the seat and exhaled with extreme satisfaction.
Frankie popped open the glove compartment, brought out a bottle and shook out two cups from a plastic sleeve. Fu-xiang took note and touched Frankie’s arm.
“Old friend, we need a cup for Jing-nan, too.”
Frankie turned to me and shook his head. “He’s not drinking this stuff.”
“Well, let him say so.” Fu-xiang lifted the liquor in his hands and as soon as I saw the white ceramic bottle, I knew what it was. “Maotai,” he declared. “Aw, Frankie’s right. You have to have full Chinese blood to drink it.”
“A lot of Taiwanese drink it, too,” I offered.
“Sure, anybody can pour it down their throat, but you people don’t really taste it because you’ve forgotten the graves of your ancestors back on the mainland. You don’t remember them on your altars.” He danced his fingernails against the bottle. “You want to drink some, anyway, kid?”
“No. I don’t like the taste.”
“He doesn’t like the taste,” grumbled Fu-xiang as he twisted off the cap and poured. “If it were a boba tea, he’d drink it.” He handed a cup to Frankie. The smell alone stung my eyes.
“The younger generation doesn’t go for alcohol like we did,” said Frankie.
“We took to it like fucking fish,” said Fu-xiang. They scraped the ribbed plastic of their cups together and swigged. Fu-xiang swallowed and gasped. “If it weren’t for this, we wouldn’t have made it through Green Island.”
“You had booze in prison?” I asked.
“Anybody can be bribed, and anything can be done as long as the bribe is big enough,” said Fu-xiang. “Right, Frankie?”
Frankie the Cat raised his eyebrow in a manner that could be an expression of surprise or a warning.
Fu-xiang cleared his throat and moved on quickly. “So, Jing-nan, let’s talk about Tong-tong. This is a revenge situation. It’s not even about the chip design, really. The whole streaming on the Internet thing is meant to humiliate him and his family.” Fu-xiang unbuckled his seat belt and it whipped back into place as he turned to look at me.
I saw his entire face in full by the lights coming off the river. It was round and fleshy with big cheeks, fat lips and a double chin. It looked like Fu-xiang’s face had been roasted to become dark brown at the higher points.
“That video was certainly embarrassing for Tong-tong,” I said.
“It was effective,” said Fu-xiang with a measure of admiration. “You have to find someone who lost face because of Tong-tong. Did he cross a business partner or bail out on a big project that left other people holding the bag? Maybe even his wife?” He scratched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? Actually, think about this. We’re probably looking at a grudge that’s a generation or two old, judging by the severity of this act. Take a look at what Tong-tong’s father or grandfather did.”
“You don’t think the chip plans figure into this at all? People seem to think they’re valuable.”
Frankie brandished the bottle and Fu-xiang raised his cup to meet it. “I don’t know anything about technology,” he said. “But why would you abduct someone from a public event, which is harder than snatching him off the street? And why make your demands public, which increases the chances that you’ll get caught? They’re taking on extra risk because making all these details adds to the public embarrassment.”
I heard a vehicle coming in through the weeds. A Toyota pulled alongside us, stopped and killed its lights. Fu-xiang raised his hat to take in a full view of the second car.
“Well, that’s all I can offer, really,” said Fu-xiang in dismissing me.
“Thank you for all your help, Fu-xiang.” Two men who looked like they were in their forties exited the Toyota and approached.
“Say, you’re Big Eye’s kid?” asked Fu-xiang
“He’s my uncle.”
“Oh, that’s right. He’s got a daughter. What a shame. It’s up to you to carry on the family line, Jing-nan. Make sure you have boys.”
I felt my ears heat up but I decided not to check his chauvinist comments. He was probably proud of them. “Are you friends with Big Eye?” I asked.
“I know him,” said Fu-xiang. Such faint acknowledgement in a society built upon exaggerated intimacy implied the subtext, And I don’t like him.
Frankie and Fu-xiang wordlessly grasped all four hands briefly and released.
“Let’s go, Jing-nan,” Frankie said to me as he popped open his door.
I wasn’t sure if I should shake hands with Fu-xiang but he reached back and touched my shoulder.
“I hope I helped.”
“You did, thank you.” Tong-tong probably screwed a lot of people over, but what had his father or grandfather done? World War II and the Chinese Civil War caused a lot of mainlander families to make some tough, selfish and inhuman choices. I know that families chose what kids to bring over to Taiwan and which to leave in China. Spouses split up, thinking the war would be over at some point and they’d see each other again soon. I seriously doubted that the cops explored this part of the Lee family’s history.
First, though, I needed Frankie to get me home.
The two new guys and Frankie were all smiling big and sharing enthusiastic hellos in the way that people do in passing when they forget each other’s names. How ya doing, guy! So good to see ya, man!
They were both dressed in thin sweat jackets and, ignoring the context in which I was seeing them, they could have been friends meeting up for the first time after becoming new dads. For their part, the new dads themselves each gave me a knowing once-over. They were slightly shorter than Frankie.
“Lai le!” Fu-xiang called out as the men climbed into his car and they responded in kind. It means, “You’re here!” in Mandarin and it seemed to be a rather trite way to begin what was obviously a clandestine meeting.
The men had left the keys in their car. Frankie hopped in and tilted his head at me. I went around the Toyota’s rear to the front passenger seat.
When our doors were shut, Frankie said, “It wasn’t much, but maybe you found it useful.”
“It was, thank you. I hope you didn’t have to go through much trouble.”
“Not much at all. Of course he doesn’t know who’s behind the kidnapping. He is right—this sort of crime itself is dated and probably has its roots deep in the past. I think Fu-xiang’s sort of amused by it. I’m sure a lot of the brothers are. Well, you’ve tried visiting the guy in jail and that didn’t help. I’ve done the best I could for you, considering the circumstances.”
“If only you could just tell me who the kidnappers are or rescue Tong-tong yourself.”
“I would if I could,” he said. “It’s usually good to take some action, but sometimes the best thing to do is wait for a decent opportunity.”
We pulled back on to the road and I watched bars of light and shadow pass over head and body like scanning rays.
“They might kill Tong-tong,” I said.
“They might,” he concurred.
“Where do you think they’re keeping him?”
“I don’t know, but one thing is for sure. These kidnappers will slip up, sooner or later. For now, I’m going to take you home. Get some rest and tomorrow we’ll see if there’s something more we can do.”
“I appreciate the ride, Frankie. I hope this isn’t going out of your way.”
“When I’m done with you, I have to dispose of the body in the trunk, huh huh.” The Cheshire Cat smile stretched across his face.
“You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking, Frankie.”
“Shh. Don’t talk to me while I drive.”