The tension rose quickly when Ryan and Antoine walked near the three youths, who gave them hard looks.
One of the guys yelled out sharply to Ryan, “Hey! What are you looking at? You got some problem?”
The trigger went off in Ryan’s head, and he once again proved Lee’s claims.
“Looking at? Absolutely nothing!” he retorted, a feral look coming into his eyes as he put a heavy emphasis upon the last words.
The other three responded with a series of expletives. Antoine stood with Ryan, as the shouting match drew the two sides steadily closer.
One of the three suddenly launched a high punch at Ryan. Blazingly fast, he avoided the punch and moved in, landing a crunching blow on the nearest youth’s face, spinning and catching a second on the jaw with an elbow strike, and landing a solid kick to the third youth’s right knee.
All three of them crumpled to the ground, pain and stunned amazement upon their faces.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Ryan mocked them.
“You thought so?” came a fourth voice.
Out of the shadows came another youth, carrying a sleek, black object in his hand that was pointed right at Ryan.
“Are you so bad now?” the fourth youth roared, walking slowly and holding the pistol forward.
Ryan had been in such moments before, and it was no time for bluster and bravado. He and Antoine took off at a sprint without delay. It was several blocks more before they finally slowed down.
They had not been chased, the fourth youth having remained behind with his friends after likely feeling that he had won back some of his group’s damaged pride. Ryan and Antoine continued onward at a comfortable pace, their breath slowly returning to normal.
When they were a considerable distance away, Antoine turned to Ryan with a grin. “You didn’t even let me have a chance to get some hits in!”
Ryan chuckled. “Had to do it. Shut them up quick, didn’t I?”
“Save some for me next time,” Antoine said.
“Maybe,” Ryan replied, grinning and exchanging a series of spirited hand slaps with his friend.
The two cavorted about the downtown area for the next few hours, joking and talking with several individuals as they encountered others that they knew.
It was an inexpensive and mildly entertaining way to pass the time, until the curfew hour approached.
The thought of the curfew often made them laugh. The only ones who followed it were the ones that never got into any trouble in the first place. The youth that had little to lose, and were adept at trouble, simply had a new thrill added to their adventures as they worked to avoid the officers of the law.
Ryan and Antoine knew that if they were caught, their parents would receive a citation and fine. The fine was the only aspect that would raise his mother’s ire, and Antoine’s mother and stepfather as well, as their interest in the two boys was negligible at best.
After a brief consultation, the two decided to go on up to Lee Chen’s restaurant. Lee’s Wok was a fairly lengthy trek from where they were, but they made the journey of several blocks to the south side of downtown without incident.
Only one police cruiser passed them on the way. The officer eyed them as he slowed down for a few seconds, making Ryan and Antoine tense as they prepared to run, but the officer abruptly sped up again and continued on down the street.
When they had finally reached the restaurant, Lee was diligently mopping up the floors as the place had closed around an hour prior to their arrival.
His short, straight black hair was under a white cap, and he was clad in his familiar apron, over a short-sleeved collared shirt and a pair of work slacks. His round face always seemed to be held in a positive countenance, though Ryan was well aware that the man dealt with constant stresses.
Lee was clean-shaven, except for the hints of a moustache below his nose, the latter being of a flatter profile. His dark eyes had a kindly look to them as he glanced up at their entrance, and he smiled amiably in greeting.
“Hi guys, I suppose I can’t tell you two that we are already closed,” he said, with his light Chinese accent.
“No you can’t, Lee. You can’t get rid of us. You know that… So what’s up?” Ryan asked. “How did we do tonight?”
“Not bad. Little above average. I may not be able to get rid of you, but I can’t entertain you. I have to cut egg rolls tonight, both regular and vegetable, so I’ll be here for awhile. What are you two up to?” Lee inquired of them.
“Not much, just hangin’ around,” Ryan replied, his voice lowering.
“Ryan got three at once tonight, you should have seen him!” Antoine said with a flare of excitement in his voice. He then quickly added, “They attacked him first, Lee. Ryan didn’t start it.”
Ryan frowned and gave Antoine a light elbow to the ribs. He did not regret the fight, but he was increasingly discovering that he did not like the feeling of Lee’s disappointment.
As expected, the smile faded quickly from Lee’s face. “Trouble again? Fighting does no good. It can only lead to bad things for you! You know that Ryan!”
“I do my best,” Ryan mumbled in the aftermath of the scolding.
“I hope you are here to work tomorrow. We will need help, Ryan, and it will keep you from making bad decisions,” Lee said curtly.
Ryan nodded. “I can be here, if you need help.”
“I do. And remember, we close early on Sunday, and I’m hoping to watch some movies, just to give you two some advanced warning,” Lee said, his tone lightening. “We can order some food in too.”
Ryan knew that the invitation was largely for him, though Lee had politely extended it to his friend. Lee was not overly fond of Antoine, as Ryan was well aware.
“Are you going to go all out? Will it be Chinese?” Ryan quipped, seeing a chance to escape Lee’s disapproving tones.
“No,” Lee responded with a grin. “It must be something else. Pizza maybe.”
“That’ll do,” Ryan said. “I’m in. And you?”
He glanced over at Antoine.
“I can’t,” Antoine replied. “I got some stuff I gotta take care of on Sunday.”
As with every time that he was in Lee’s presence, Antoine was careful to keep his street endeavors at a low profile. He need not have bothered, as Lee had long since figured out the truths about Antoine’s activities.
Ryan had not denied the obvious many months ago when Lee had brought up the subject. His relationship with Lee had always been an open and honest one, and he was not about to let Antoine’s foolhardy pursuits cause him to taint what was perhaps his only pure friendship.
“Well, I just remembered something. I will be there unless Pamela wants to do something,” Ryan stated with a grin.
“Women, women,” Lee said smiling, shaking his head. “They used to keep me busy, worried… and broke. Until I got smarter. Now I am much better off! Less headaches. More money in my pocket.”
“Can’t argue with that. You got me there,” Ryan replied, laughing.
“It’s the truth,” Lee replied. He then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you two are welcome to stay here, and have a soda, but keep the front door locked. I need to get to making egg rolls.”
“You need to take a vacation, man,” Antoine said.
“I would if I won a lottery. But I gotta pay the bills. Trying to take care of saving some money for my nephew,” Lee replied. “And my mother is my priority.”
“You probably haven’t missed a day of work in a hundred years,” Ryan joked.
“I look good for being over a hundred then!” Lee retorted, as he set the floor mop down.
Walking across the room, he bolted the front door and turned the light to the main dining room off.
“Now, on to the back,” he remarked.
Ryan, with Antoine behind him, followed Lee as he walked through the gloom of the dining room and proceeded to the back kitchen.
Lee opened a refrigerator door and pulled out a couple bottle
s of soda, a popular, ginger ale-like soft drink made regionally. He used a bottle opener to remove the caps and handed them over to Ryan and Antoine.
For himself, he opened a can of cherry-citrus soda.
“You run on caffeine, man,” Ryan chided, as Lee chugged down about half of the can in the first draught.
“Fuel for the fire, The Official Drink of Lee’s Wok,” Lee boasted, holding the can up and smirking, as if on a television commercial.
“Not bad, not bad,” Antoine said, nodding his head. “If I was the company president, I’d hire ya to promote.”
“Well, if you ever do, remember, I get ten percent,” Ryan interjected. “I introduced you all.”
“Good business mind, Mister Ryan,” Lee remarked, setting the can down and going over to the refrigerator to get some ingredients out of storage.
“And if we get rich, you can take a vacation,” Ryan said.
“Wouldn’t that be nice, just to get away?” Lee responded, with wistful sigh. “Haven’t been able to get away for years. Have to work so hard just to keep everything together.”
“Maybe we will get away someday. But just don’t forget to take me with you if you go somewhere exciting. I’ve never been out of this town, ever. I would like to see the world someday,” Ryan said.
“By the time we can see the world, they’ll probably be able to take us to other whole worlds,” Lee jested.
The facade of humor did not mask the shimmer of a distant regret in his eyes, as he looked down at the egg roll ingredients in his hands. Before too much emotion welled up, his stoic demeanor returned to take command of his features.
“But they say that the show must go on, right?” Lee asked, looking over at the other two.
Lee turned his attention towards working on the preparations for the next batch of egg rolls, the passing fancy of talking about personal dreams now pushed to the side by obligation.
“Need some help with that?” Ryan inquired.
Lee shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, if you don’t have anything better to do.”
“Well, if Pamela was around, I sure would,” he wisecracked, walking over.
Antoine crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, drinking his beverage. “I’ll hang around, but I’m outta this.”
Lee chuckled. “I’m not sure I would eat an egg roll that you made.”
Antoine just shook his head. “Okay, Lee, I’ll cut you some slack. Let’s just say I like to supervise.”
“Remind me to talk to you when I hire a manager for the restaurant,” Lee said with evident sarcasm, evoking some laughter from the other two.
For the next couple of hours, Ryan helped cut Lee’s work load by almost a full third. As he put the freshly made egg rolls back for the next day, Lee thumbed through some bills in his pocket and gave a few over to Ryan.
Ryan never would have asked, knowing how many times Lee had fed him for free or given him a bonus on his work pay. He also knew not to refuse, as Lee tended to be offended by refusals of a gift or bonus.
Lee and Ryan worked together on the last few tasks involved with closing up the restaurant. When they left the building, Lee ended up giving them a ride in his car.
As he dropped Ryan off, Lee reminded him about the hours that he wanted him to work at the restaurant the next day, and then drove onward.
The rest of the evening was largely uneventful, involving little more than the intake of substances and the playing of some video games.
When dawn was finally coming around, and his eyelids had grown very heavy, he sprawled out on a couch to get a couple hours of sleep.
Fatigue ensured that he would not stay awake for much longer, but before he finally succumbed to sleep his thoughts lingered on the past evening and the feelings within him.
The night had left him with an empty void inside.
In his heart he found that he did not feel any pride at the fight that he had been in earlier in the night. The only warmth of the evening had come from being around Lee, one of the few lights in a very dark world.
He felt a pang of guilt about Lee finding out about the scuffle, and knew then that he wanted to make Lee proud of him. His own father had nothing to do with him, and Ryan rarely saw the man since his parents had split up. His mother had always been far more interested in her boyfriends than what was happening to him.
Only Lee expected something grander out of Ryan.
Lee was the only one that had expressed a better world being possible for Ryan.
The owner of that little restaurant had given him something to grasp onto, and for that he was growing ever more grateful. He felt extremely lucky just to realize what Lee’s ongoing gift to him was.
Even though Lee would likely choose some bad movies to watch, Ryan found himself really looking forward to seeing his truest friend later that afternoon for work, and for some movies on Sunday.
The thought put a smile on his face that lingered as he drifted off to sleep.
LOGAN
Deep into the night, Logan wearily leaned back in his fabric-upholstered office chair, finally surrendering as he rested his hands upon the arm rests. He rubbed his strained eyes slowly.
As if his momentary detachment were some kind of cue, there came a gentle rap upon the wood of his front door.
Rising up with a groan, he stretched his stiffened limbs and made his way out of his home studio to the front of the house.
The identity of the figure standing on the front porch awaiting him was not a surprise, even at the very late hour. Shorter than Logan, stocky, with a face that was normally cherubic, Antonio Guerrero now displayed a quite dour expression.
Logan wordlessly opened the screen door, and Antonio nudged past him as he entered the apartment.
“I know, you are probably busy right now, but I need to vent,” Antonio muttered in an obvious state of great frustration. “I am not going to take much more of this.”
Behind Antonio, Logan battened down the hint of a rueful grin that had come to his own face, having been treated to comments and visits like this rather frequently as of late. It was not that he was callous, but rather that he was simply amazed that life always appeared to be so entirely predictable.
Late night, Logan could afford to give his friend a little more slack in terms of his time, and he had told him so. Antonio had certainly been making use of that invitation.
Logan did have some genuine sympathy for Antonio, who worked as a delivery person for a local pizza place, a horrific environment to Logan, who would have rather gone homeless than have subjected himself to such a place.
Antonio put in a lot of hours on the job, with frequent double shifts, and had incurred much wear and tear on his car that his pay could not keep up with. He got very little in the way of respect, from managers and customers alike, with a low hourly wage and sporadic tips that were more often than not miniscule.
It was not an environment overabundant in personal satisfactions, and as of late Antonio had begun to question the mere sanity of all of it. He had come to the conclusion that Logan had already made, and warned Antonio of, long before.
“No girlfriend, no real goals, and no money. That’s what I realized today. I just exist to pay bills, and can barely do that, so that a select few can live in a paradise of wealth in some gated community,” Antonio hissed with anger, clearly holding back a tide of frustration that had been long packed down deep inside of him. “And here I am, on another uneventful Friday night, making you listen to me tell you all my problems.”
“We’re friends, believe me, I wouldn’t let just anyone vent in my living room. And it’s not time to panic; you are just twenty-seven years old. Believe it or not, that is still young, Antonio,” Logan encouraged, shutting the front door.
Logan gestured for Antonio to have a seat on a couch in the small living room at the front of the house. Antonio strode over and sank down heavily into the cushion.
He put his elbows on his knees, folding his hands in between, sta
ring down at the rug underneath the low coffee table in front of him. He let his breath out slowly, as his shoulders sagged.
“You may be right, Logan,” Antonio said in a tired voice, “but I’m starting to find myself thinking about all of this, and where I’m really going, more and more.”
Logan understood his friend very well, and was glad that at least Antonio felt that he had an outlet with Logan. Antonio leaned toward being an introvert, and carried a tendency towards shyness around most others.
Logan knew that Antonio was allowing unhealthy pressures to build ever higher and higher, stoking a flaming resentment that was fanned into more of an inferno with each case of disrespectful treatment that he received.
Antonio did not ask for much, and certainly did not have enormous expectations out of life. Yet, when even a few tiny crumbs refused to fall off of life’s tables, in an age when some feasted themselves to gluttony, even the most laid back of individuals could begin to simmer with a resentful ire.
Logan did not have many outlets for his own frustrations, but he had at least crafted some methods of containing his own outrage and disgust with the direction of the world.
Hurling himself into his work, the bulk of his energies were focused upon his small business. He had grasped the merciful art of blocking most negative thoughts out of his mind while he was immersed in tasks for clients, and clients were always capable of annoying him well enough.
“Want a soft drink? At this hour I need one myself. I’m getting a little groggy,” Logan inquired.
He walked to his favorite high-backed chair, and lowered himself down on one knee. He had popped open the half-sized refrigerator just to the side of the chair, and pulled out two cans of soft drinks, before Antonio had even rendered an answer.
Almost like little fueling stations, Logan strategically kept stocked soft drinks at a few different points of the house. He did not deem it laziness, but rather efficiency. In an age where conserving energy was akin to adhering to religious dogma, he figured that he was just being logical and harmonizing with the times.
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