Incensed by Ed Lin Page A

clean-shaven, approached Big Eye. He also seemed too muscular to wear the robes. This guy was more ex-jock-turned-sports-announcer than withdrawn follower of the Tao.
    â€œDearest Big Eye,” said the priest softly. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence again.”
    â€œI’m here every night, right?” Big Eye whispered back. He tipped his head at me. “My nephew, Jing-nan.”
    The priest put his hands together and nodded at me. “Tu Di Gong blesses you.”
    â€œThank you, sir,” I said.
    He blinked. “Don’t thank me .” He handed two joss sticks to Big Eye. “Please.”
    Gao stepped forward, touched a lit lighter to the joss sticks and then slipped behind a thick column carved with a dragon spiraling up to heaven. Big Eye blew out the fire at the end of the joss sticks. The glowing embers that remained would slowly digest the rest of the sticks and release the poison into the air. Release the scent, rather.
    Big Eye held out a stick to me. A thin curl of smoke trailed from the tip.
    â€œThank you, Big Eye,” I said as I took it.
    â€œDo what I do,” Big Eye said. He clasped the stick in his hands and gave three forty-five-degree bows. I did the same. When I thought I was done, Big Eye grabbed my left wrist and whispered, “Do it again, Jing-nan. This time face Tu Di Gong square-on.”
    I obeyed and when Big Eye was satisfied he jabbed his stick into a sand-filled censer. I did the same.
    â€œThat was a nice ceremony,” I said as I checked my phone.
    He glared at me. “We’re not done by a long shot.”
    Gao returned and handed him a pair of crescent wood blocks, each about the size and shape of shoes for a ten-foot-tall marionette. One side of each block was flat, the other rounded.
    Big Eye got on his knees and pressed the flat sides of the blocks together. I heard my uncle take in a deep breath and hold it. He cast the blocks to the floor with a flourish and finally exhaled. One block stood on its flat end and the other teetered on its rounded side.
    The priest tilted his head and evaluated the blocks.
    â€œYou should ask again,” he said. “Let’s have Jing-nan kneel down, too, to show how devout your family is.”
    Big Eye, still on his knees, gathered the blocks together and looked at me, one eyebrow raised. I dropped to my knees and felt the floor smack back, cold, hard, and angry. I grimaced and noticed the priest’s smirk.
    Big Eye blew imaginary dust from the back of both hands and cast the blocks once more. The priest nodded. “All right,” he said and withdrew. Big Eye remained on his knees.
    â€œCan I get up?” I asked.
    â€œNo!” he snapped.
    The priest returned and handed Big Eye a bamboo canister filled with carved wooden strips.
    Big Eye shook the canister with the vigor of a mischievous toddler.
    â€œCareful,” admonished the priest. Big Eye reduced his fervor and a single stick slid out apart from the pack, centimeter by centimeter, until it clattered on the floor. Big Eye handed the canister back to the priest and snatched the stick from the floor. We stood up and Big Eye’s knees cracked before he read out the characters on the stick.
    â€œSeven. Nine. Moon. Mountain. What’s that supposed to mean?”
    The priest laughed and walked over to an ancient chest at the side of the temple. He opened a drawer in the seventh row and ninth column and plucked out a small scroll. The priest’s crawling fingers unrolled the piece of paper. He gave it a studious read and then nodded.
    â€œIt’s a good time for Mei-ling to go to Taipei. She has to visit a mountain before the Mid-Autumn Festival. Then everything will be okay. Your family’s going to be just fine.”
    â€œYou hear that, Jing-nan? My daughter needs a trip to the mountains.”
    Well, so what?
    â€œSure,” I said.
    The priest crumpled up the note and tossed it at a small