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right. “They’re bad for your skin when you’re older.”
    I’d just nodded but I knew that he had removed the KMT army slogans that ran down both his forearms: take back the mainland and kill mao and zhu . He had been wearing long sleeves to cover them up as long as I had known him.
    Frankie glanced at me and nodded, indicating that now was a good time to introduce me.
    â€œHello, sir,” I said to Frankie’s friend.
    â€œJing-nan,” said Frankie as he held an open hand to the man. “This is my old service pal from the orphan brigade!”
    The unit had been made up of boys whose fathers had been killed by Communists in China. They’d been among the KMT’s toughest soldiers even though they were as young as twelve. The brigade itself had been orphaned years ago, just another forgotten cockamamie Cold War relic.
    I gave the man an informal salute that he returned immediately. “It’s an honor to meet you, uncle,” I said. It was best to be deferential, even though Frankie hadn’t told me his name. “Please have something to eat. Anything you want.”
    â€œNo, I should be going,” the man said before turning to Frankie. “It’s a miracle to see you again, my friend. A real blessing from Mazu. Take care for now.” The two men clasped both each other’s hands and smiled like boys. Frankie’s friend turned away and disappeared into the crowd on Danan Road. I saw Frankie’s smile fade. His face was neutral but his eyes were sad.
    â€œIs everything okay, Frankie?” I asked.
    â€œI’m fine.” I appreciated that he didn’t try to fake a smile.
    â€œDid that guy say something to upset you?”
    â€œNo. It’s just upsetting to see him and remember those times. We were so innocent, you know? Sure, we had guns, but we were naïve. There aren’t many of us left.” Frankie shook his head. “I didn’t introduce you properly because he changed his name. He’d probably prefer you didn’t know either of them.”
    We were rudely interrupted by Dwayne’s groans from the restroom.
    â€œDid anything big happen while we were away, Frankie?”
    â€œNaw, this place was dead while the contest was going on.” He turned on the faucet and ran his hands under the water. “Dwayne didn’t come in last, did he?”
    â€œHe almost did, but I don’t think anybody noticed. It was a two-man contest.”
    Dwayne stepped out of the restroom, looking as fresh as a newly wilted flower.
    â€œWell, that stinky tofu’s not going to be a problem anymore,” he declared.

Chapter Two
    Near closing time some friends from other stalls walked by Unknown Pleasures to lightly sprinkle shit on Dwayne for performing so poorly in the eating contest.
    â€œI was thinking about your face and I lost my appetite,” was his standard reply. Dwayne could have come up with something better under normal circumstances, but he wasn’t so sharp after his system cleanse. He wasn’t even up for horsing around during the lulls.
    At around one in the morning I left the night market. I’d scrubbed down the side grill and mopped the tiles in the front. Dwayne would take care of the main grill and Frankie, who always left last, would finish everything else. I would be screwed without those guys because honestly they worked like they were family. No days off. I could tell when one of them was feeling sick only by their excessive tea drinking, and even then, neither would ever cop to it. They never seriously complained about anything.
    Maybe they felt sorry for me.
    I touched Little Fatty on the way out. I don’t believe in luck, superstitions, or gods, but that little pot had saved my life. I know it’s an inanimate object but I will feel a great deal of affection for it until I die.
    I walked down the darkened streets that only a few hours ago were choked with people. Death.