Page 3 (1/2)

"I know you already got solittering, before joining his partner "Don’t ive you another strike"

I hear the police radio calling them away to another crie in my mind of the five thousand dollars starts to waver until it finally blurs into sonize In the span of thirty seconds, my victory has been tossed into someone else’s hands

2

I ride out of Manhattan in silence It’s getting colder, and the flurries have turned into steady snow, but the sting of the wind against my face suits my mood just fine Here and there, parties have started to break out in the streets, and people decked out in red-and-blue jerseys count down the tis I watch as their celebrations swirl by In the distance, every side of the E enor at the foster group ho if I climbed up onto the roof I’d sit there and stare for hours as Warcross i, until dawn ca enough, I could picture e of excite

My electric skateboard beeps once, snapping me out of my reverie I look down The battery’s been drained to its final bar I sigh, slow to a stop, and swing e in my pocket and head into the first subway station I can find

Twilight has faded to a blue-gray evening by the ti Hunts Point, Bronx, apartlittering city Graffiti covers one side of the building Rusted iron bars cage the first floor s Trash is heaped near the main entrance steps--plastic cups, fast-food wrappers, broken beer bottles--all partially hidden underneath a thin dusting of snow There are no lit-up screens here, no fancy auto-cars driving through the cracked streets My shoulders droop, and my feet feel like lead I haven’t even eaten dinner yet, but at this point, I can’t decide if I want food or sleep roup of ho their blankets and pitching their tents in the entryway of a shuttered store Plastic bags line the insides of their threadbare clothes I look away, heartsick Once upon a time they too were kids, ht them to this point? What would I look like, in their place?

Finally, I will h the main entrance and down the hall to my front door The hall reeks, as always, of cat pee and hbors shouting at each other, a TV’s volu baby I relax a little If I’h, I won’t bump into my landlord, with his tank and sweats and red face Maybe I can at least get an uneventful night’s sleep before I have to deal with hione up on ht where I’d torn the old one off I stare at it for a second, exhausted, rereading

NEW YORK EVICTION NOTICE

TENANT NAME: EMIKA CHEN

72 HOURS TO PAY, OR VACATE

Was it really necessary for hin, as if he wants toknows? To humiliate me further? I tear the notice off the door, cru at the blank space where the paper once hung There is a fa panic that beats loudly inI owe The nuain Rent, food, bills, debt

Where aet the money in three days?

"Hey!"

I jued fro toward e hair sticking out in every direction One look at his bloodshot eyes tells uht today I fumble around for hten my shoulders and liftthe name like it’s Mr Asshole

He scowls at me "You been avoidin’as a waitress in the s non at the diner, and--"

"Nobody needs waitresses anymore" He squints at me suspiciously

"Well, this place does And it’s the only job around There’s nothing else"

"You said you’d pay today"

"I knohat I said" I take a deep breath "I can come by later to talk--"