“Ey, Anon! Good to see ya!” Moe yells from the front door. I hobbled into Moe’s Pizzeria wearing my uniform- dark khaki jeans, and a blue collared shirt, my leg brace on top of one pantleg. “Hey, Moe, Morning! So, where do you want me to start?” “Well you can start on the bathroom, I’ll clear out the chairs for ya so you can do under the tables and all that afterward.” He looked over to me from where he was already picking up chairs and setting them on top of the tables. “Alright, I’ll get started.” After falling into my robotic routine of ‘clean shit, get paid’, my thoughts started to wander a little. I mulled over all the events of the last week or two since I’d gotten back from the Corp. It’s my fourth day at Moe’s. Today was Tuesday, since Moe let me have the weekend and Wednesdays off, he’d been letting me work morning and evening shifts to clean up the restaurant after all of the customers left. I’m still not sure why he wanted me to clean in the mornings, considering it wasn’t like anyone was there at night. Or maybe there were, I do remember Moe being in some shady business dealings when I was still in high school. That would make sense. Then again, I probably shouldn’t dwell on it too much. Don’t want to get caught up in… whatever the hell he has going on after-hours. I finished up the last of the dining area, and I went back over to Moe. “Floor’s done.” “Ok, if you could clean off the tables too that’d be great.” “Alright.” I went to put the chairs back on the ground, and wandered in my thoughts as I did my work. …before I knew it I’d cleaned the tables, the floor, even the counters in the kitchen. It took a few hours but Moe took a look around and nodded approvingly. “Good clean, kid. That was… a little over 2 hours of work?” He handed me two 20-dollar bills. “Can you come back a little earlier than usual tonight? There’s a party that got reserved and I need that area cleaned as soon as they’re gone.” “You got it, Moe. What time?” “Sometime around… 7:30, they should be getting here? Can you get here by then too?” I checked my phone, which told me the time was already 9:13. “Alright. I’ll be back by then.” I turned to go put up all my cleaning stuff. *** *** *** “So Fang.” “Hm?” She looked at me from the bed with a curious glance. “How are you holding up with…well with everything?” “What do you mean, Anon?” “Well, you haven’t really left the apartment in… a while. No offense meant,” I added, putting my hands up into the air. “It’s just… Doesn’t it ever get lonely?” Fang sighed, and laid back down to face the ceiling. “Honestly, yeah. It does get boring. But what else am I really gonna do? I can’t get a job for shit, nobody wants to talk to me…” “Have you thought of reconnecting with Trish and Reed?” She looked up at me from the bed as if I’d just cursed her family name. “What?” “Well, I mean…” Shit. I think she might be angry. “...You all got along and were really close before… well, before I fucked shit up. What happened between you all, anyways?” She looked lost in her own thoughts, tears on the edges of her eyes. Barely visible. She was holding them back. “After you… left, everything went to shit. I mean everything. Trish… She became this holier-than-thou bitch, she was always gloating about how she was ‘right about that damn skinnie from the get-go’.” Fang said that last part with heavy air quotes. “Reed… He got deeper into his carfe addiction than I’ve ever seen him. One day, he almost overdosed while we were out trying to go shopping. Me and Trish took him home, and apparently his parents were pissed. We only saw a bit of it before they slammed the door shut in our faces and told us to stay away from Reed.” She still had those tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying. I wasn’t sure if or how I should comfort her. “Trish… She was angry. That day it all boiled over. She yelled at everyone; me, her parents, Naser… I had enough. So I told her off.” Now that caught my attention. “I told Trish, ‘Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking self-centered asshole who drove others into the ground for your sole benefit, reed would still be talking with us’. She got pissed, started yelling at me about how I was this massive fuck-up and how I’d never succeed. One thing led to another… she said the wrong shit, I punched her into a locker a couple times until Naser pulled me off her.” I look at her with a stone-cold stare, but in my head I’m partially cheering, partially screaming, and slightly turned on by the description. “I got expelled, Dad wasn’t too happy, so he kicked me out saying something about how I’d already taken enough of his time and money. A few weeks later I heard down the grapevine that Trish was still in the hospital with a broken crest and fractured skull.” Holy fucking shit. A pang of fear- legitimate, instinctual fear- went through my body for the first time since Basic. She’d described it so nonchalantly. Like she was talking about her favorite food, not caving in her ex-best friend’s skull like some piece of tenderized meat. Fang had obviously noticed. “...Sorry if that reminded you of anything you did overseas. I should’ve dialed that back.” Wait, Fang had taken it the wrong way. Did she think she had just about triggered some PTSD episode? The description though… It did actually reminded me of an incident in Iraq. We’d cleared out a building during a mission, and one of my squadmates about got stabbed by some compy fucker with a bowie knife. My squadmate at the time, a big-ass neanderthal, grabbed the fucker by their skull and smashed it against the brick wall of the building until it more closely resembled… I rushed over to the bathroom, emptying my guts into the porcelain throne. What… the fuck. Why was that memory so goddamn vivid? …Oh. Fuck me. I wiped my mouth with some toilet paper before flushing it all down and I grabbed a water bottle to try and empty my mouth of the acid. “...Sorry.” I turned to Fang, who was looking at me with concern. “It’s fine. Just remembered something. Anyway…” I sat back near her to listen to the rest of her story. “What happened… after you got kicked out?” “It’s all a blur, honestly. I played music at Pizza Time for a few years until I got fired for drinking, then I just kind of wandered Skin Row for a year or so.” “Jesus.” I wanted to apologize, but this didn’t seem like a good time. She sniffed. I think those tears were coming back. “I didn’t mean to hurt her that much, I just wanted her to back off! I just… I just wanted her to go away.” I went over to hug her. Arms under hers, I set my head on her shoulder. “...Don’t beat yourself up over this, Fang. That’s in the past. It doesn’t…” Fuck, I can’t say that. “I’m sure that one of these days, Trish will look back and see why you did it. Hopefully she’s already done that.” “...Thank you, Anon. First giving me a place to stay, now you’re covering my therapy costs.” She chuckled. “Where the fuck would I be if I hadn’t recognized you in that bar?” “Let’s… Let’s not think about that.” I sat there with Fang, holding her in my arms. She stayed with me, and I held her close. We both went to lay down on the bed with each other, and as I lay on my side looking at her, I saw a smile grace her beak. I ran my hand through her stubby hair, looking at her peacefully laying there. She looked so at ease laying there. So happy. I didn’t want to leave her like this. I wanted to stay there and hold her. *** *** *** …Eventually, though, I have to go back to work. “Moe needs me a little sooner than usual. I’ll try to be back by 9, alright?” “Ok, Anon. I’m gonna keep trying to look for a place to work. Stella wants to meet with me to go to a couple places that might actually hire me…” “Alright. Good luck, Fang.” She smiled out the corner of her mouth, watching me grab my holster and gun. Soon enough I’d already gone downstairs and walked from the apartment to my truck. As I turned the engine over, I noticed a cop cruiser behind me. Well, that was weird, but it’s not uncommon for cops to stay in their cruisers, what with how Skin Row was. I decided to try and ignore it. What concerned me was whenever I pulled onto the road, I noticed that it kept behind me, even as I started driving, following my car all the way to Moe’s parking lot. I pulled in. When I pulled into my parking spot, the squad car went past me and pulled into an alleyway. I’d been glancing at the rearview mirror for a while while I’d been driving, and now that I was walking into Moe’s, I was rather nervous. “Hey, Anon!” Moe said cheerily, sitting at an empty table. “Glad you could make i-” “Moe, there’s a cop that might be stalking me. He’s been on my ass since I pulled out of my parking spot. You might want to be careful.” He went from his cheery demeanor to something else entirely. A rather serious look rested on his face, but it was rather grim. “Oh so that’s how they wanna play it…” “Moe? What’s up?” “Go clean, Anon. I’ll deal with it.” “You sure, Moe?” He gave me a death glare in response and as soon as I turned around, I heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol racking. “Moe, what are you doing?” “Nothing. Go do your job.” I went over to the cleaning closet and I went to grab my supplies. As soon as Moe exited the restaurant, I heard yelling. I kept turning back and forth from the closet, but the yelling just kept getting louder. I was really worried about what Moe was gonna do. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me, and I walked over to the front door. I didn’t look out the window, but I heard the voices. “Moe, I ran those plates, I know it’s him.” “He just got home, for fucks sake! Give the kid a rest, rip!” Rip? Who the… I stepped outside and immediately felt the glare of some angel of death fall upon me, and then a large brownish-gray fist descend onto my neck, pushing me to the wall right next to the door. I reached for my gun and had it half out of the holster until I realized who it was. “Hey… Mr Aaron. Funny seeing you here.” He tightened the grip on my neck and I immediately noticed it getting harder to breathe. Those Korean boxing threads never taught me how the hell to get out of these situations! Although I was much bigger than in high school, I could do something. So, I used my free hand to grab onto his wrist and started crushing it until he loosened his grip. He let go of my neck and I collapsed to the ground, my pistol clattering to the ground. “ACK! GAH! Fuck…” Inhale. Exhale. Inhale… “God damn, you haven’t changed a bit since I was in school.” I looked up, Ripley had a rather grim face once he noticed the gun on the ground. Once I wasn’t gasping like a fish, I grabbed my gun and re-holstered it. “Holy shit, sir. I was about to do something I woulda regretted if you hadn’t let go.” “I want answers, Mous.” His intense gaze didn’t go away, and I noticed Moe had a pistol of his own in his hand. Ripley had evidently noticed, too. “Moe, I’ll charge you with threatening an officer if you don’t put that thing up.” “You about killed the kid, Ripley. Who’s to say you aren’t also a threat to me, eh?” regardless, Moe put the gun in his pocket, the grip protruding slightly. I stood up, and looked at Ripley. His features were more sunken, his face more aged, but his strength had not waned a bit. “Everyone stop. I’ll answer him. Sir, what answers?” He looked at me, confused at my odd interruption. “...Where is Lucy?” “Don’t you mean Fang?” “I mean my daughter, where the hell is she?” “THEY are currently out with a friend looking for a job,” I corrected him. “THEY are currently living with me after YOU kicked them out.” “Boy…” He uttered with malice, “You’re playing a dangerous fucking game here.” “Says you, SIR. You’re the one that left your own kin in the streets of Skin Row. Do you even know what the hell your daughter has been through?” “I saw it on the picture Moe sent me. Let me guess, you took it?” “Yes, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. Did you know she’s been homeless for the last year or so?” “Sh- What?” “Yeah, didn’t know that?” I poked him in his chest. “Where were you when she was in shit with the local gangs? Where were you when she needed support? Where were you when she needed a FATHER?!” “ENOUGH!” He yelled. “I will not be belittled by the man that hurt my daughter.” “I left BECAUSE I hurt her. I went into the Army to make something of myself. I came back to help her as payment for the suffering she’s gone through. Maybe you should, too.” Ripley looked enraged at what I was saying. “How dare you lecture me on how to be a father?” “Maybe if you had actually been a fucking father, and supported her, none of this would have happened! But nooooooo.” “Watch your fucking mouth,” he said poking a finger into my chest. “I will respect you when you’re someone actually worth respecting.” I look to Moe. “Sorry about this Moe. I’ll clean the tables later.” “Oh so THAT’S why you came here?! I thought you’d actually be working a respectable job! But you don’t even have a good job. How can you expect yourself to support Lucy like this? You aren’t doing shit, kid. You aren’t shit.” Oh that about did it. “Listen here you fuckhead,” I said grabbing Ripley’s shirt. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me. I know you were in the Intelligence Corp. All you did was probably sit with your thumb up your ass. You wanna know what the fuck I was doing?!” I was yelling at the hulking ptero, and I swear for a second I briefly towered over his stoic and unfazed frame. “I was in the goddamn Marines, on the fucking GROUND! I FOUGHT! Abu Graib, I watched men DIE. I watched my medic BLEED OUT in front of me while I was getting shot! AND WHAT DID YOU DO?! YOU WERE BEING A SHITTY FATHER TO FANG!” He pushed me off, but I kept pointing and yelling at him. “YOU AREN’T SHIT, OLD MAN! YOU’RE A FUCKING HORRIBLE FATHER TO FANG, YOU WERE A SHIT FATHER TO NASER, HELL, WHERE WERE YOU WHEN FANG WAS PREENING?! WHEN SHE NEEDED SOMEONE TO BE THERE FOR HER?!” I poked him in his chest multiple times. “YOU. AREN’T. SHIT.” I turned to Moe. “I’m sorry, Moe. I’m gonna go back home.” “I get it, kid.” As I walked over to my car, I looked back. Ripley looked like he was gonna pop a vein, his fists were crushing the air in them, and when I sat in the driver’s seat, I saw him talking to Moe. I’m gonna regret this… I pulled out my phone and opened Moe’s contact to message him. As I pulled out of the parking lot I sent Moe a text along the lines of “give Ripley my contact info.” Fuck me… *** *** *** “Hey Anon, how was work?” Fang walked up to me splayed out on the bed. “UGHHHHHHHHHHH.” “What’s wrong?” “Your father confronted me at work. I told him off, and he’s pissed at me now. I don’t know what to-” Suddenly my phone ringed, Fang was looking at me with a stone-cold stare. The number on the phone was unfamiliar, but I still answered it anyways. “Hello?” “Hello, Anon.” Speak of the fucking devil. “Ripley, what the fuck do you want?” “Where is my daughter?” “Why do you want to know? You were the one that threw her out,” I retorted. “Anon, just… hand the phone here.” Fang extended her hand out. “Lucy?” the phone emanated. I handed it to her. “...Dad?”