Page 37 of Taipei Story

“I texted you.”

“I was fine,” said Anna. “It got late. I crashed at Margrit’s.”

This did not make sense to me because Margrit lived in one of the university dormitories, which was twice as far from the bar as our apartment. I figured that whatever Anna had spoken to JC about, it had made her angrier with me, but that was not a puzzle I could untangle now.

“Anyways,” said Anna, “I’m glad I caught you. I think it’s about time we have a chat about our living arrangements.” She cleared her throat. “You’ve had the apartment to yourself for a few days, so I think it’s fair that I should have the space back for a bit.”

“What?”

“Come on,” said Anna. “Don’t act so surprised.”

But I hadn’t been acting surprised. I was genuinely surprised, and I had said “what” because I wanted her to repeat what she had said. I was having tremendous difficulty processing any speech acts. In Thought and Society, I had just learned this chengyu: 牛頭不對馬嘴, “the mouth of a horse doesn’t fit the head of a cow.” It referred to incongruity, such as when the reply didn’t fit the question, or when two people talked past each other. It was all I could think about now. I overlaid the image of a cow over Anna’s face and saw its lips moving instead of hers.

“Well, I think we’re both kind of uncomfortable around each other. Sometimes this space feels actively hostile. I have tried to talk to you about it, and I thought we could move forward, but I don’t think it’s getting any better—like, just the sound of your footsteps triggers my anxiety, okay? And at the end of the day, I do have to set some boundaries. My living space should be a safe space for me. So I think the best thing for us is if we spend a little time apart, meaning, I think you should look into some different living arrangements.”

She had obviously practiced this speech. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she had just come right out and said those things, because at least some of them were fair. I agreed—the apartment felt like a war zone. Her footsteps triggered me too! But the way she said it—the full sentences, the therapy-speak—made it obvious she had workshopped this speech with other people, and that meant she had been complaining about me to other people for a while. Probably they had all pitched in with some lines. Tell her about the boundaries. Tell her about your anxiety. Probably they were all waiting for her to tell them how it had gone.

So since I knew I was not having a fight with Anna but with a whole group of traitors of which Anna was the figurehead, I was less inclined to compromise.

“No.”

“Sorry?”

“You can’t just unilaterally evict me,” I said. “Fuck—fuck you. No.”

“Oh my God,” said Anna. “Can we be mature about this?”

“You can’t kick me out with nowhere to go.”

“Don’t you have lots of places to sleep? Like, can’t you stay with Andrew?”

“Anna, that is fucked up.”

Anna and Margrit exchanged a glance. Clearly they had been talking about me before I got here—perhaps they had even discussed that I might react this way.

“Anna, come on. My grandfather just died.”

I spoke the words like I was testing them out, seeing if I could even make them fit on my tongue. They didn’t seem like words that belonged to me. I was just trying on the role, seeing what kind of reaction they got.

Anna squinted. “What?”

“Just now,” I said. “My mom texted me, she said—” My throat tightened. I had not said it out loud until now. I had not known how difficult it would be. Speaking it made it true. “My grandpa is dead.”

“What does that . . .” She frowned. “You really mean just now?”

“Yeah.”

“Like when you were in Beitou?”

“No, this morning,” I said. “A few hours ago. I don’t—at least, I found out a few hours ago.”

Anna kept squinting at me. She was trying to determine whether I was lying, and perhaps I did sound like I was lying, but I didn’t know how to utter those words in a way that felt true. I could just imagine how she would spin this to the others, to all those traitors waiting for her debrief. So I brought up the bed thing, right. And you won’t believe what she said.

“I am so sorry,” said Margrit. “That is a terrible loss.”

“Thanks.”

“Were you close?” asked Anna.