We were late arriving. It was Lantern Festival, and the Handan procession was blocking our route. As we wove cautiously through the sound of firecrackers I studied the faces of the younger people on the trucks, looking for people I knew. Were any of them former students? Coworkers? Friends? It was dark, and hard to tell.
He arrived there before me. He'd already staked out an outside table near to the automatic doors, and I waved a greeting from my bike. After I'd returned with beers we started talking.
[Pause for a truckload of white-robed princesses, swaying to the sound of ceremonial horns.]
He's still working at the big cram school down the road, he told me, with KM and PF. He'd just come from there, his formerly good mood diminished by an unruly class at the end of a long day. We talked about some of his more troublesome students, and the ways in which he dealt with their behavior.
He then told me about people we both knew, his coworker PF showing up half an hour or so into our discussion. K has been transferred to "real prison," S said, and is serving out his sentence in earnest. S was sketchy on the details, because K can no longer send letters or receive phone calls. Perhaps three years, S said, but the real question was whether or not K will be able to stay in Taiwan once he gets out. There were differing opinions on the matter.
PF said he's been looking for a second job. He's locked into a contract with the cram school where he works, dependent on them for his visa, but he isn't making enough money. He said he'd have a scooter soon, and a scooter would allow him to look for work even further away.
I didn't see Q while I was in town, it didn't work out.
I didn't see C while I was in town, it didn't work out.
I didn't see KE while I was in town, I forgot to text him.
While we were sitting and talking and drinking H's son passed by. I don't know H that well, and I'm even less familiar with his son. Just the same H's son felt comfortable enough to sit with us a while, telling us that recent business at the night market wasn't good, and also telling us about a nonpaying customer H had to chase down on foot. H's son told us that business the following night would be "crazy," and we collectively hoped (for their sake) that it would be.
As always, the subject veered into KM's doings. S and PF are in a band with KM, and they often visit KM's house to either practice, attend late night drinking sessions, or both at the same time. KM has a lot of ideas about what the band's "direction" should be. PF showed me a short video of one of their recent concerts, though I couldn't really hear it over the noise of passing cars and distant fireworks.
[Pause for an SUV disguised as a dragon, pulling an idol within its portable shrine. Techno blares from speakers in the truck bed.]
At about the same time I got a text from B. Earlier I'd asked him if there were any new restaurants in town worth going to. He sent me two links, one of which was to a new burger restaurant near Malan Elementary. While S was talking I texted thanks back to B, telling him that I'd probably check out the burger restaurant the following Sunday. B responded with a cascade of emojis, only some of which I was able to decipher.
Almost as quickly KT texted me back in response to the same query. "I don't eat out," she said, "I always cook at home."
PF went home to his girlfriend. S said that I'd met this girlfriend a month before, but I couldn't remember anything about her.
[Pause for a converted bus carrying dozens of people in identical red T-shirts. Men dressed as supernatural beings bring up the rear as bottle rockets squeal upward.]
Three hours later S and I were still sitting there amid empty cans of beer. Our conversation bounced between talk of people we knew and questions regarding S's plans for his son. Was Jun-Yi a good school? Where did D live now? E was renting a studio in town? How was working and/or living in Kaohsiung different from working and/or living in Taitung? Another beer? Another beer? Another...?
We decided to go home. S had classes the following morning, and I was tired from my drive up the coast. We agreed to meet again that weekend, but neither of us could say when or where. Would he have time? Would I?
As I got on my bike another neon-garbed truck passed by. It was full of people I might have known and might yet know again, all of them exhausted from the day's festivities. And where were they going? And what gossip were they going to share, and about whom? So many people, going this way and that, each living lives in someone else's stories.
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