Shereallycouldn’tsp.
Orrather—herlight,agileJ-Rockapproachtoattadarticutioncouldn’tsurvivethethick,heavyLowBstringonafive-stringbass.
Butshedidn’tfeeldefeated.
Becauseinhersuffogschedule,Saturdaynightstillheldo,secretitem.
---
7:30p.m.,sedfloorofatucked-awayinstrumentshopinTaipei
“You’retellingmeyouwanttopracticewhat—SlipknotandGunsN’Roses?”
TeacherCaipusheduphisrimlessgsses—lehicktheylookedalmostabsurd—andnearlyspitouthiscoffee.
Herbassteacherstoodaboutfive-foot-nine,haircutshorta.Onanormalday,ifheworetadputinalittleeffort,he’dbethekindofhandsomeguywhomadefemalestudentsgncebacktwithestreet.
Butthiswasaweekend-nightlesson.He’dclearlygivenuponimagema:thickmyopiagsses,alooseT-shirt,andanauraofexhausted,shut-ingloomgingtohimlikeahoodie.
He’dtaughtCrafortwoyears—watchedherclimbfrombasicstothepointwhereshecouldhandleShiinaRingo’sornatebasslinesly.He’dneverimagihismeticulous,uniform-wearing“goodgirl”wouldsuddenlyshowupwithametalsetlistthatcouldgetsomeonekilled.
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