Ghost Month by Ed Lin Page B

would be rude to simply call the Huangs, considering how close our families had been and how many years it had been since I’d seen them. I had to show up in person. The thought made me feel helpless, afraid of what I’d find. I could understand why one would seek solace in charms and temples. Suffering sucks.
    I slouched to my right side and regarded the river again, this time in despair.
    My gut felt like a friend at the other end of the seesaw jumped off and my ass slammed on the ground. Thinking about that playground made me think of school. Thinking of school made me think of Julia. Thinking of Julia made me want to die.
    I took my hands off the handlebars and folded my arms over my windbreaker. Julia, I thought, if you’re dead and can somehow hear me, please come and knock me into the river. Right now. I could accept it from you. Do it! Now! We can be together again!
    Suddenly I panicked and brought my hands back down. How foolish would it be to get in an accident for such a silly stunt? It certainly didn’t make sense to tempt fate when I had already taken the precaution of wearing a helmet. In order to fight superstitionone had to be practical, and it was practical to keep both hands on the handlebars.
    My eyes drifted over to the river again. It was a little unnerving to see my reflection in the water followed by two small blobs of white light. Streetlamps? My parents?
    Stop looking.
    I turned as the road followed a bend in the river. The buildings on the other bank scrolled by with the curvature. At night all cities looked the same from the highway. What I saw now could easily pass for LA.
    If only my father had been healthy for two more years, I could have finished college.
    Time was the cruelest change agent. Back then, two years would have meant the world. Without them, the last unremarkable seven years had gone by as fast and as meaningless as oncoming traffic.
    Ten years from now, I could be driving the same dark route home—I hoped on a better moped, at least. Where would I be in my life at that point? Married? A father? Maybe still lonely?
    What a pathetic turnaround from being Johnny. I chuckled to myself darkly. One minute he’s chatting up tourists and they’re hitting on him. The next, he’s ready to kill himself.
    Julia might be gone for good now, but I hadn’t spoken to her or even seen the woman in years. You can’t be hurting for someone whom you’ve been out of touch with for this long, can you?
    I always felt that she was near, though. Sometimes even as a physical presence. Some nights I slept on one side of the bed to make room for her, and I saw her in my dreams at least once a week.
    I dropped my head and wiped my nose with my right shoulder.
    It was best that Julia never saw what became of me. What woman would want a man who came home late seven nights a week, smellier than a fried chicken ass and tired as shit?
    I knew that not getting married and having kids as soon as possible was an affront to my ancestors. Ghost Month was supposed to be the time to show what a good descendant you were, but I showed my filial piety all year round by keeping the food stand going. I didn’t need to fanatically burn heaps of incense. The smellrising up from the main pit stoked by Dwayne was strong enough to reach the spirits of my mother, father and grandfather even if their ethereal sinuses were stuffed with ectoplasm.
    S OON ENOUGH I WAS back in the Wanhua District. I think it’s the oldest part of Taipei, but it’s hard to tell with the constant tearing down and building up all over the city.
    Zoning is a joke in Wanhua. Futuristically textured green office towers with solar paneling abut older buildings with birdcage bars over the windows and rust smears running down the grey concrete outer walls like parrot droppings. Webs of television, telephone and electric cables wind all around the upper floors for blocks and across streets.
    I pushed my moped down a narrow alley crowded with