Free Incensed by Ed Lin Page B

prize?”
    â€œThey played my song in their podcast.”
    What a lousy prize, I thought, but I said, “That’s great.”
    Somewhat placated, she decided to busy herself with her tablet.
    I sat back and debated offering her my phone to listen to Joy Division. She wasn’t ready for something that intense yet. I would have to start her off gently, maybe with late New Order stuff. Our ride continued creeping east on Xinyi.
    â€œAt the next light, make a right!” Mei-ling called out. “There’s a store that sells a microphone I want.”
    â€œIt’s open now?” asked Whistle.
    â€œIt opened at nine and it’s nine-thirty now.”
    â€œWell, then I guess it’s open, but we really shouldn’t take too long.”
    â€œIt’s not going to take long at all,” she said. “I do need to borrow some money, though.”
    â€œHow much?”
    â€œFive thousand NTs.” That had better be a decent microphone at more than 150 American bucks. Whistle passed his wallet back to her and she counted out the bills, folded them into her hands and gave the wallet back. After we made the turn, we went down two blocks to the entrance of a side alley.
    Alleys in Taipei are narrow roads that have a Japanese look to them. Supposedly the roads in Tokyo are confusing and narrow to confound any potential invaders. I think the Japanese colonizers brought that concept to Taipei, which they renamed Taihoku, when they redesigned and planned out the city. When the Japanese left after fifty years of rule in 1945, the Republic of China administration tried to remove everything overtly Japanese, but renamed the roads and alleys instead of carving out new ones.
    â€œWhere?” Whistle asked as he drove along the curb.
    â€œThis should be good,” Mei-ling said. She popped the door open.
    â€œDo you want Jing-nan to go with you?”
    She rolled her eyes and let her mouth fall open. “I don’t need my biggest critic as an escort.”
    â€œMei-ling needs to do this herself,” I said. She slammed her door and smirked at me through the cloudy window. “This girl’s a handful.”
    Whistle reached back and slapped my leg hard.
    â€œDammit!” I said.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with you, telling her her song sucks?” he said.
    â€œSomeone had to tell her,” I said.
    â€œI’ve known her all her life,” Whistle said. “She’s practically my little girl, too.”
    â€œThen you should be honest with her.”
    â€œThere are ways to be honest without making discouraging remarks!”
    â€œI know, I know, I went too far.”
    â€œJing-nan,” said Gao, “Whistle’s sore because he has some money invested in Mei-ling.”
    â€œMoney?” I said.
    Whistle sighed. “Big Eye wouldn’t pay for the online-song contest. So I spotted her the money.”
    â€œIt was a lot,” Gao interjected.
    â€œA lot of these entrance-fee contests are a scam.”
    â€œI know,” said Whistle. “But, hey, she won.”
    â€œEveryone who pays the fee wins.”
    â€œHe paid for a photo session, too,” said Gao.
    â€œWhat photos?”
    â€œThe contest required headshots and full-body shots,” said Whistle. “We went to one of Taichung’s best studios.”
    â€œSome of those pictures . . .” started Gao.
    â€œHey!” said Whistle.
    â€œSome of those pictures, what?” I asked.
    Gao sniffed. “Inappropriate.”
    â€œShe’s a girl,” explained Whistle. “She has to look sexy.”
    â€œWhistle,” I said, “this contest is sounding sleazier by the minute.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter! She won!” said Whistle as Gao chuckled.
    We sat in resigned silence in the car until Mei-ling swung open the door and plopped back in her seat.
    â€œDo you know anything about microphones, Jing-nan?” she asked.
    â€œNo,”