Incensed Read Free

wrathful storm hitting the island on the exact day of the Mid-Autumn Festival as punishment for its people even entertaining the legalization of same-sex marriage. “Guanyin, the goddess of mercy herself, will show no pity on Taiwan!” he had declared, rattling the beads around both his wrists for emphasis. “We’re sowing bad karma for future generations, if there are future generations, with all the sinful couplings going on!”
    The weather turned out to be fine, if a little chilly. The contestants were seated on a mobile stage that had been trucked in. Sadao and Chompin’ Charlie were placed in the middle. Everyone else was expected to be a nonfactor.
    Dwayne was seated on the far left, decked out in a traditional Amis beaded sash to pay honor to his aboriginal ancestors. He was the lone Taiwanese contestant, and although I wouldn’t call him fat, he was the heaviest person. Why was everyone else so skinny? Rounding out the stage were a middle-aged man from Hong Kong, a white teenage boy from Australia, a black woman from Canada who looked like a real-estate broker, and a young Spanish woman taking time off from college to food-tour the world. There had been another American man besides Chompin’ Charlie, but he had vomited during a pre-match tasting, disqualifying himself from the contest.
    Chompin’ Charlie was wearing a red, white, and blue bandanna and a black 9/11 commemorative T-shirt of stars and stripes with the words never forget . He should’ve worn the sweatshirt version. The eating champ huddled and rubbed his hairy arms red in an effort to stay warm.
    Nancy shook her wet licorice hair and the ends brushed the collar of her No Age sweatshirt.
    â€œAre you cold?” I asked her.
    She turned to face me, both ears slightly jutting out from her hair like light brown bass clefs. “You’re staring at me?” she asked, the beginning of a smile clenched in the left side of her mouth.
    â€œNo,” I lied. “There was a bug on your face.” I touched her forehead lightly. “There. It’s gone.”
    Taiwanese are annoyingly shy in dating and relationships. We can’t walk around holding hands or giving any public displays of affection. At the airports you see long-time lovers waving goodbye without a final embrace. On the other hand, we have no problem sneaking into love hotels with our partners and/or other people as long as we’re sure Meilidao’s camera crews aren’t hiding in the bushes.
    I saw Nancy blush. As much as I wished she would be less uptight in public, I knew that her learned behavior was a part of who she was, and I loved who she was.
    I touched her arm and pointed to Dwayne. “Look at that guy! I’ve never seen him look so worried.”
    â€œHas he been practicing?” asked Nancy.
    â€œHe’s been eating deep-fried stinky tofu, but I don’t think he’s ready for the wet kind. They changed the type at the last minute because the producer said it looked better on camera, all slimy and green.”
    Dwayne looked a little green himself. The night-market association wanted one representative in the contest and in an act of bravado Dwayne had put in his name, never thinking that he would be the only volunteer.
    A crew of four wheeled out a giant vat behind the contestants and dished out backup plates.
    â€œUgh, I can smell it from here!” said Nancy. We were about twenty feet away from Dwayne. They turned on the lighting and the stage was nearly as bright as day. Dwayne looked even more green, an apprehensive Shrek at the end of the table.
    All the contestants were dealing differently with being in the heart of the stink. The Spanish woman was laughing heartily. The young Australian tightened his over-the-ear headphones and rocked in his chair, his face grim. The real-estate broker breathed through her open mouth and looked slightly embarrassed in a way Canadians seem good at. The Hong