The Last Three

by Almon Chu

stacked upon each other, the wall was hardly visible. The towers buzzed and whirred, each constantly spitting out a new batch of DVDs. Large printers spewed out colourful sheets in a corner. Boxes of plastic cases and glossy cardboard occupied another corner. In the middle of the room, knives and scissors were strewn across a wooden table. Everything was at our disposal to make the stolen and fake look legitimate.

  "Yeah? Well fuck you! I get at least one smoke after you rode my ass this morning on the phone!" Aleksi said, his cigarette only half-way done.

  "Well fuck you too!" I took the cigarette from his lips and inhaled once from it before extinguishing it beneath my foot. The tobacco and black ash became highlights amongst the colourful scraps of paper that lay upon the floor. Aleksi gave me a swift punch to the shoulder. I returned the gesture, and we smiled like fools.

  I began my work. The room's hot air engulfed me. The chemical smells eroding my brain.

  It was to be another long day. Most of the work became subconscious, automatic. I was hardly there. My mind detached from my body and ran rampant with disjointed thoughts of Eris. How we first met. Her little quirks. How long we've been together. Her scent. Our moments together. How long she'd been gone. Her smile.

  I thought of our last day together. The sun was setting behind those distant smoke stacks. We lay in my bed and basked in the fleeting soft orange glow. The traffic of busy streets sounded like waves crashing to shore. She lied on the edge of my bed. Smiling, she embraced me and said-

  "Oy! Work is over!" Aleksi said as he tapped me on the shoulder.

  I snapped back to reality, covered in sweat and the smell of chemicals. We left the room with the machines still running at full capacity, their fans screaming and gears grinding. The graveyard shift came in as we slipped on our coats. Cold air swept in from the door. It was dark now, the streets were illuminated by the orange light of street lamps. Berne came out from the front of the shop.

  "Dinner?" he asked, looking at Aleksi and me.

  We nodded and spent the next hour wandering the streets of Chinatown in search of a restaurant. Until finally Berne and Aleksi decided upon a little noodle shop. The shop's sign flashed and flickered, "Delicious Noodles" it read. We went in. The air was choked with smells of food and cleaning fluids. Chinese pop music played in the background and mixed with the conversations of diners and servers, an unusual din. Neon lights and television sets hung overhead. The waitress spoke to us in broken English and handed us menus covered in a layer of dirty plastic. The tables were covered in thin sheets of white garbage-bag plastic. Creaky dollar-store stools took the place of chairs. Berne handed out yellow chopsticks from the table's banged up metal container. I looked down at the menu and ordered a bowl of white rice. I could not afford to spend. We waited for food and began our sentences with "Remember when?" and "Oh, that time?” Recounting old times, all the things that we had suffered through together, and all the jokes we shared. The food arrived, the talking stopped. Aleksi and Berne stuffed their faces with slices of steak and noodles. I garnished my rice with hot-sauce.

  We left the restaurant and went our separate ways home. I lit a cigarette and smoked it quickly; the nicotine release would stem my hunger for the next while. I flicked the filter away and spat on the ground. I marked down my day's earnings in a small notepad; one could never be too safe. It would only be another few weeks until I managed to save up enough money to move out of here. Another few weeks until I could see Eris again.

  I made my way across Chinatown, across its shady merchants and garbage piles. Back to the subway, back to the streets. Back across the dilapidated roads and buildings, across punks and thugs, across the immigrants and the homeless, the power trippers and businessmen, the mothers and children. I made my way back to my building of cracked tiles, peeling paint, reinforced glass, and neglected elevators filled to the brim. I went back to the twenty sixth floor, back to the disorderly neighbours, back to my home.

  I shot quick glances to my left and right before unlocking my door and stepping through. I was welcomed home by silence and darkness. I wanted neither, throwing my coat and keys on the kitchen table, and turning on a dim light. Sounds of the city trickled in. The sweat and filth from the day's work clung to my body; I needed a shower but was too tired to care. I kicked my computer's power button and threw myself on to the old sofa. The pleather creaked under my weight.

  I checked my messages for any sign of Eris. There was nothing. I checked my online messenger. She was offline. I called her phone. Nobody picked up. I sat there for a few hours waiting for her; too tired, too dazed to want to do much else. I waited until finally I gave in to my weakness and pulled my corpse of a body to bed.

  I lay down on the edge of my bed and looked at the picture of Eris taped to my wall. The traffic of busy streets sounded like waves crashing to shore.

  'She'll save me from this.'

  Will she really?

  I drifted off to dream.

  I.II

  The high school lunch room was packed to the brim. Scratched up plastic tables and wobbly plastic chairs. Lunch never looked like real food, it was either a warm mess in a thermos, a cold mushy pile in a plastic container, or overpriced cafeteria slop. I had been too lazy to pack my own lunch that day, so I resorted to the cafeteria slop.

  I looked down at the silver package I had bought. “Beef Burger,” was written in black marker. Steamed air escaped the package, giving my hands a breath of sickly warmth. The bun felt soggy in my hands, the unnaturally orange cheese leaking out the sides. I took two bites. It tasted of stale grease and chemicals. I tried to force another bite but my stomach began to turn.

  The grease leaked onto my hand as I wrapped the burger in the silver package and chucked it into the trash next to me. Grabbing some napkins that were left behind by a previous lunch period I tried to clean the grease from my hands. The school was still new to me, there was no one to sit next to during lunch, no body to call my friend. I scanned the table I was sitting at: people played cards, laughed, mindlessly shovelled food into their mouths. My eyes locked with a baby-faced blonde that sat diagonally from me, he had no lunch and was hunched over the table.

  “What the fuck are you looking at?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I quickly said.

  “Oh, I'm nothing now?”

  “What?”

  “Who the fuck said you could sit here?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “This table isn't for you, you fuck off.”

  The guys at the table stopped laughing, playing cards, and shovelling food. They all silently stared at me. It was clear I was unwanted. I left the table and began walking towards the cafeteria exit.

  My right arm hit the ground first. The rest of my body came soon after, forcefully dragging my arm across the ground and producing a high pitched squeak. I stared at the ground and tried to realize what had just happened. The baby-faced bastard had pushed me.

  “You need to apologize to me,” he said.

  I pushed off on my right arm and felt the muscles strain and tear.

  “Fuck you,” I said as I hit him in the face with my left and sent my knee into his stomach. He collapsed on the ground when the teacher on cafeteria duty came.

  “Suka blyad,” the blonde said as he curled up on the ground.

  “Both of you, come with me,” the teacher said.

  We sat in front of the principal as he lectured us about our behaviour. Though both of us remained reluctant to give in to his interrogation. It would have been easy to rat on the blonde, if I had played innocent then the majority of my punishment would have been transferred to him. I wasn't going to be a rat. I kept my mouth shut and we both received a week of in school suspension and were sent home for the day.

  On my way out the school's front door I was stopped by the blonde and one of his friends. I prepared myself for another fight.

  “I'm sorry for Aleksi, he can get a little hot-headed” the friend said.

>   “Thanks for not ratting me out,” Aleksi said.

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  “I'm Berne by the way,” the friend offered his hand.

  “Jon,” I said before shaking his hand.

  “Smoke? It's the least I can do,” Aleksi said holding a cigarette in front of me.

  “Sure.” I had never had a cigarette before. I took one lung full of smoke before coughing and throwing up my lunch.

  “He smokes like a bitch!” Aleksi started laughing.

  “Fuck you,” I said hunched over, gagging and spitting. My right arm burned.

  “What did you have for lunch?” Berne asked.

  “A cafeteria burger.”

  “You are definitely new here,” Berne said laughing, and began patting me on the back.

  My right arm would never heal properly but it was a small price to pay for new friends.

  I.III

  A fog had rolled in while I dreamt and consumed the city. A suffocating warmth. The humidity clung to my skin. Outside my window I could only see the vague shapes of nearby buildings, city lights dimly dancing through the gloom. It was another workday.

  I got up and walked across the room. Bits of trash stuck to the soles of my feet. I kicked the computer’s power button with the tip of my foot and stumbled towards the washroom. The washroom lights stung my half awoken eyes. Toothpaste caked the once-white sink. I blindly groped for my shaver and tooth brush. My hands shook as I tried to co-ordinate myself