EPT+ Show Spoiler [music] +
There comes a time in every young man's life when he feels his mind has unlocked the rules that govern the world, and consequently, a treasure box bound only by latitude and longitude has opened in front of his eyes.
For Jack Ao, that moment came one September, as he crested his green Toyota over the concrete span separating the northbound I-55 from the I-94, and saw all of downtown Chicago spread before him, twilit towers glittering like jeweled scepters made for giants to grasp; giants, which Jack believed, he was destined to join.
He had driven himself and his high school graduation gift seventeen hundred miles from the desert city where he had grown up, a splattered, sand-locked collection of sprawl as lacking in opportunity for a young man in a hurry as it was in annual rainfall. He had covered the distance alone, brooding on those great mysteries only a teenager from the sheltered environs of Chinese-American suburbia could conceive of. In a motel bedroom six hundred miles from his final destination, he had celebrated his eighteenth birthday with a Dateline Special on an Illinois prison riot, a phone call to his parents, and then fallen asleep with the phone off the hook and an escort's calling card on his lap.
The overpass straightened into a snarl of red taillights in the distance. Jack eased a cheap plastic sandal off the accelerator pedal, watched the needle drift under the speed limit. In spite of the traffic jam, his earnest, clean-shaven face bore none of its usual tension. Then his phone rang.
"Mom?"
"Jackie? Jackie boy, how are you?"
"That's a girl's name, mom. It's been eighteen years."
"Are you with Elton yet?"
"Not yet, mom. I'm still on the road."
"Well be careful. You know if something happened to you how much your father and I would..." She sniffled.
The red taillights grew closer. "Yeah, sure, mom, don't worry about me."
"Remember to pick him up. Remember his car is - "
"Yeah, I know it's in the shop." Jack pressed on the brakes. Nothing. Jack blinked and jerked his foot. He felt his tires lose traction for the first time in his life, then bounced into a black Lincoln Continental.
"I heard something - everything alright?"
Jack stammered for a moment. "N-nothing, just the radio."
"Okay. Call me when you get to Elton's. He will keep you safe. You can hang up now."
Cue on a swarthy-looking man leaned his head out the drivers' window and cocked it towards the shoulder of the road; they pulled over. Jack fumbled at the end call button, then for his license and registration, then - thump thump - taps on glass. Jack rolled down the window to words with a funny smell.
"Ay, amigo, you blind or something?" The swarthy man's face was purple.
"No sir, not at all. I'm sorry about your car, by the way. Is the car all right?"
"Take a look for yourself." Jack killed the engine and stepped out, feeling cold dirty wetness through his sandals. He saw two matching holes on the Lincoln's bumper matching the screws holding the Toyota's license plate. The swarthy driver spat, narrowly missing Jack's legs. He shrugged.
"I'm sorry, mister, I can give you my insurance and - "
"Just give me a hundred and we'll call it even."
Jack looked in his pockets. Six twenties, given to him by his mother for emergencies. His cheeks flushed as he imagined a look of disapproval on her face. "Look, I've got insurance, and the police can - "
"The police?" The driver hoisted Jack by the collar. Jack smelled alcohol. "You're holding me up here, asshole, and I've got a schedule to keep. Just give me my money."
"What doing?" From behind him, a girl with an inky cascade over a beige jacket had stepped out the car. Jack caught his breath. Her eyes studied Jack, all the way up from his green dirty sandals to his clean-shaven fuzz above his ears. Jack caught her eyes for a second - puffed red with jet-lag - and she smiled for a second.
"Ay-uh-miss - just getting some information from this gentleman, then we'll be on our way." The driver let go of Jack, his face putting on a pretend mix of seriousness and professionalism. "Can I have your insurance, please?"
Jack shifted the car into park under a street sign that read Federal. He watched the sun disappear behind the broad brick shoulders of a converted loft and rain streak down a glass vestibule. Five minutes later, a wiry Asian guy in navy track pants and a black silk polo shirt stepped out. Jack rolled down the window.
"Getting, big, cous."
"Yeah. Good to see you too, Elton."
"Heh. Let's get something to eat."
Elton spat directions out of thin lips above an unshaven jaw. "Left on Eighth. Right on State. Go for a mile." They arrived at a brick building on a 25-foot lot sporting the letters "Lucky Phoenix". A pudgy white man in crusted hoodie and jeans squatted under the sign, blocking a smudged plexiglass door. Jack shifted into reverse. The pudgy man stood to attention and opened Elton's door.
"Leave the keys in the car." The same man then opened Jack's door and made an exaggerated motion with his hands. As Jack stepped out, Elton said something in Spanish, then turned to Jack and introduced the standing man. "Jack, this is Tim." They shook hands; Tim stepped into the green Toyota and Jack followed Elton inside.
Jack stepped into a noisy foyer and ducked. A tray bearing roast duck and all the fixings grazed his scalp. The waiter wore a full tux. Jack stared.
"You keep standing there, you'll get run over."
Elton was already at the stairs. Jack followed him up. The room was empty save for a single table.
Steamed fish rested on a bed of watercress and carrots. Other dishes and two glass steins of amber ale framed it. Sinatra, from somewhere close. Jack sat on a laminated wood seat. "Quite the welcome, Elton."
Elton speared up a piece of fish and spoke to it. "Yeah. Your ma okay?"
"Yeah, she's doing fine. Called me ten times on the drive over, but..."
"Hah. She told me to keep an eye on you."
Jack looked down. "Oh."
"Relax. I'll tell her you sleep in the library each night."
Jack tried laughing, failed, changed the subject. "Things ever get patched up between Aunt Jess and your dad?"
"She came to the funeral, if you're asking."
Jack suddenly flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up..."
"Don't be. Everybody dies." Elton drank.
Jack stumbled out the plexiglass doors. Elton strode out after him. Tim drove up in the green Toyota - Elton muttered something - a panicked no-senor from Tim. Elton pointed at the bumper with a cigarette - streaks of black on green. More no-senors.
Jack spoke, spilled drunken beans on a rear-end collision, a panicked conversation with an angry driver. Jack wrapped up the story. Elton puffed a beat.
"Did you get his insurance?"
Jack nodded, fumbled - Elton grabbed it, read it, then tore it to pieces.
"Hey - why'd you - "
"Forget him." Elton dropped the butt on the ground and crushed it with his a boot. Tim shrugged, returned to his squat.
