"Excuse me sir, do you have spare change?" begged Corlo to a man as he sat in front of Divine Deli in the blazing summer heat. Begging had become his livelihood, yet as he begged, the sir's and madam's of this world passed by him without so much a glance and it took everything in him not to say, "Listen idiot, give me your money." At the end of the day, someone would drop a few coins in his cup and he would say thanks and maybe even profess how grateful he was for their generosity if they put more than five dollars in his cup. He hoped today would be the last day he begged for money for he had procured a job interview at Broderick and Associates for 6pm. If he could get that job, he would have no need to scrounge around for change and food; he could live the life he once had.
Around 1:30pm, Corlo started to hear the lion like roar of his stomach that desperately craved food. He hadn't eaten all day and hoped he had enough for a couple of sandwiches from Divine Deli. A simple ham sandwich cost two dollars and he needed three to fill his belly so that when he slept at night, the gnawing hunger wouldn't keep him awake. With a sigh, he tipped his cup into his hand and slowly started to count the change. He glanced to his left and saw a short man in a long, black jacket (evidently a high-quality piece, for Corlo had worn a similar jacket in his glory days) and black bowler hat walking towards him. His head was tilted downward as if fearful of being recognized. His pace was rapid and every few seconds he glanced behind him as if wary of people following him. As he passed Corlo, he dropped a wad of bills in front of him. "Use it wisely," the short man said. He did not slow down his stride and continued walking as Corlo stared after him, at loss for words.
There was something familiar about the man who had given him money, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It took him six minutes to count his money and when he'd finished, he realized the man had left him ten thousand dollars.
He closed his eyes as tears of relief descended down his cheeks and dripped onto the concrete sidewalk he sat on. No longer would he slave on the streets for money, begging people as if he had no right to live. Wu ... unbidden the name floated into his head. It was a name that incited volcanic rage into him but today his name brought a slight smile to his lips, almost smug. He would use his money and regain his former life, that would show Wu ... then he'd come for him. He closed his eyes and his past came back to him.
Corlo is in his office on the 16th floor, talking with someone through the phone. It's nearly 4pm; he's expecting to interview a person for the job of financial advisor. As a hiring manager, he does his best to weed out those he deems unsatisfactory.
A loud knocking on his office door reaches Corlo's ears. "Come in," he says. The door opens and a man of short stature walks in. He is dressed in blue jeans that look as if it has been washed one too many times. The faded blue matches the crinkled, tucked-in, checkered shirt he wears which speaks of a man that has fallen upon hard times. Around his neck, he has a small jade pendant in the shape of a half-crescent moon on red string and it appears to glow beautifully as if it were snow crystals on which rays of sun reflect and create a twinkling stone. He wears thick, black glasses but what strikes Corlo the most is his squinty eyes that remind him of a bored cat that appears to be sleeping but is truly alert. "I hope you can perform for me tonight, I've been looking forward to it. Lily won't be back for a week," says Corlo into the phone. A soft giggle echoes from the phone receiver and the man that his here for his interview senses that Corlo is having an affair.
"I will see you at 6:00pm at the harbour ... wear the black dress I bought you, I want my women to look good," says Corlo ending the conversation. He now gives his undivided attention to the other man in the room; As he does, he can feel his blissful mood disappearing quickly, for the eyes of the man are the eyes of an Asian man. It was already too much that the law made him respect black people who were roaches that were blessed to be allowed to live on the bottom rungs of society but now the law defined every man, woman and race as equal and that intruded upon his personal beliefs. White is the superior race and the only race meaningful and damned if he was going to hire a Chinese man or whatever those Asian people were called.
He wouldn't have booked this interview if he knew the man was of the Asian variety. Mentally he told himself he would have to tell Charlene, his secretary, to screen out any peculiar sounding names, names that didn't fit with what he liked to call the 'caucasian lifestyle'. He couldn't tell the Asian man that he wasn't getting the job without a valid reason or word might get out, the Channel 13 News might hear about it and it would create a furor that would end his comfortable lifestyle. Everyone was sensitive to perceived slights against races he believed shouldn't have rights and he did not want to stand out like blood on snow.
"Sit down," he says to the Asian man, gesturing at the chair. It was a courtesy he didn't have to extend to the critter but he did. It was his way of showing the Asian man that the white man can give and taketh away.
"Thank you sir," says the Asian man, in an infuriatingly Chinese sounding accent.
"What's your name and why do you want this job?" asks Corlo.
"My name is the Wu Xi. I come from the China one week ago and have degree in the accounting. I have other qualifications to. I want this job because I come from the China and need to take care of my wife," says Wu innocently in English that was commendable for a man who had been an immigrant for a mere week, yet his honesty did not soften Corlo's resolve.
"You have said twice that you came from China. You are giving me information not relevant to what I asked you and your English, well frankly its appalling. Sorry Mr. Wu Xi, you are not going to get this job. Please leave," says Corlo rudely.
"Sir, you haven't looked at resumé. I am very qualified for this job," implores Wu.
"I don't need to see your resumé. You are not what I'm looking for. Now get out of my office before I call security," says Corlo impatiently.
"Please sir, give me one chance,," says Wu with tears in his eyes. Corlo sees desperation and fear in his pupils yet he does not heed the pleas for he simply does not care.
"I'm going to call security," repeats Corlo firmly.
Wu gets up to leave. He knows it futile to argue with Corlo any longer. As he is about to exit the office he turns around and faces Corlo. His face is tear streaked, his eyes are red and he is trembling from what appears to be anger and humiliation. "I will never forget this day. I hope you don't forget it either."
"All I hear is ching-chong-ching-chong. Close the door behind you," says Corlo gruffly.
As Wu leaves, Corlo picks up his phone to call Charlene and in that moment he remembers something odd. The jade pendant on Wu's neck had been snow white when he entered the office ... and yet when he left he was sure it had been a pale green. He ponders this for a moment but a minute later he dismisses any thought about the pendant completely and Wu becomes something of the past for him.
When Charlene picks up her phone, she does not greet Corlo with a warm, "hello" or "how are you sir?". To Corlo's utter surprise she says, "Sir you left the intercom on. I could hear everything you said to Mr. Xi."
"Mind your own business. I wouldn't have had to deal with him if you had done your job and not foolishly thought an Asian was worthy of this company," sneers Corlo. "Remember, my job is to hire but it's not too much of a stretch to say that I can fire you."
"Sir, Mr. Xi ran out of here in tears. I'd like to think you're a good man. Please apologize to him," implores Charlene.
"Don't tell me how to do my job," says Corlo angrily. "You are only a secretary and that's all you'll ever be."
"Very well sir," says Charlene.
Corlo does not respond and after a moment he hears the phone click and knows Charlene is gone. By the end of the day, management informs him that he must vacate the premises by the end of the week. Apparently human resources has received a complaint about his, "inappropriate and unacceptable racist behaviour that goes against what this company stands for" as they put it. As he takes out his last box on the last day that he is allowed to step on company premises, he passes by Charlene. She meets his eyes but quickly looks down and does not say anything. He exits the building and in his mind he utters one word angrily ... 'Wu'.
Two weeks later, his wife discovers his affair and initiates a divorce that drains him financially until he is left with his mistress and the clothes on his back. Yet his mistress finds that Corlo alone is not enticing and leaves him in search of a lover that has money. He is now on the streets and with a cup in his hand, he begs for money. For each coin that drops in his cup, he thinks of Wu. Wu, the man who destroyed him. One day, he will have his vengeance ... one day.
When Charlene picks up her phone, she does not greet Corlo with a warm, "hello" or "how are you sir?". To Corlo's utter surprise she says, "Sir you left the intercom on. I could hear everything you said to Mr. Xi."
"Mind your own business. I wouldn't have had to deal with him if you had done your job and not foolishly thought an Asian was worthy of this company," sneers Corlo. "Remember, my job is to hire but it's not too much of a stretch to say that I can fire you."
"Sir, Mr. Xi ran out of here in tears. I'd like to think you're a good man. Please apologize to him," implores Charlene.
"Don't tell me how to do my job," says Corlo angrily. "You are only a secretary and that's all you'll ever be."
"Very well sir," says Charlene.
Corlo does not respond and after a moment he hears the phone click and knows Charlene is gone. By the end of the day, management informs him that he must vacate the premises by the end of the week. Apparently human resources has received a complaint about his, "inappropriate and unacceptable racist behaviour that goes against what this company stands for" as they put it. As he takes out his last box on the last day that he is allowed to step on company premises, he passes by Charlene. She meets his eyes but quickly looks down and does not say anything. He exits the building and in his mind he utters one word angrily ... 'Wu'.
Two weeks later, his wife discovers his affair and initiates a divorce that drains him financially until he is left with his mistress and the clothes on his back. Yet his mistress finds that Corlo alone is not enticing and leaves him in search of a lover that has money. He is now on the streets and with a cup in his hand, he begs for money. For each coin that drops in his cup, he thinks of Wu. Wu, the man who destroyed him. One day, he will have his vengeance ... one day.
He opened his eyes, wiped his tears and stood up. The wind blew strongly and he clutched his money, fearful it might blow away. A small, white piece of paper danced in the wind and landed on Corlo's lap. He was about to brush it off, when the words 'hit man', caught his eye. He picked up the paper and looked at the writing on it. There was a 10 digit number and the word "hit man" scrawled beneath. Fate, that's what he would call this moment when he wrote his memoirs that only he would read.
There was a pay phone right beside Divine Deli, so he went to it and with a quarter he dialled the number on the paper. On the sixth ring, someone picked up the phone but said nothing. All Corlo could hear was silence and it unnerved him. After a few seconds he decided he would say what he had to say to the silence on the other end of the phone. "I need a man killed." His words seemed to echo ever-so-slightly and for the first time Corlo fully realized what he was about to do. Saying it out loud and hearing his own voice uttering those words made him realize the power he was about to wield with money. He was going to to take a man's life and there would be no returning from this point. His hatred for Wu blinded him to reason and the only logic he saw was his own anger towards a man who had once asked him for a job.
"His name and ten thousand dollars," said a voice through the phone. The utter lack of emotion in the voice stunned Corlo. This was a man who could not care whether someone lived or died for it was his livelihood to play god for money. Like a wolf that decides to hunt rabbits to survive, this man hunted and killed people for sustenance and his heart had become impervious to the human weakness, emotion. "Put both in an envelope. Go to 401 Holland Avenue, you will find an abandoned home. Push open the gate. Walk to the front door. Put the envelope under the doormat at 3:00pm. Leave. He will die by 6pm. Do not look back ... or you will die." The hit man spoke in short sentences, almost robotically. Clearly these were lines he had said time and time again; he was a man who was experienced with his trade.
"How do I know you won't steal my money?" asked Corlo nervously. There was no answer from the other end of the phone. A beeping sound reached Corlo's ears and it was a few seconds before he realized the man had already hung up.
By 2:59pm, Corlo had reached 401 Holland Ave, an old house, seemingly abandoned as the hit man had said. The house was surrounded by a black, wrought iron fence similar to the fences that enclosed graveyards where past victims of the hit man now lay. Although it was summer, the overgrown grass had faded to yellow, dead as this house seemed to be. The house spoke of neglect- from its dirty, grey brick to the roof covered in broken, black shingles as if someone had stomped all over it. The house cast an ominous shadow over the front yard; it truly was the type of house one would associate with the nefarious beings of society thus Corlo felt 401 Holland Ave was not only a place where murderous transactions were conducted but it was also the home of the hit man. Corlo walked quickly up to the front door of the house. In front of the door, a carpet so filthy that it's colour was no longer discernible, lay. Corlo took out a white envelope with the name 'Wu Xi' and ten thousand dollars in cash inside and shoved it under the carpet. Immediately he turned around and walked back towards the gate. He was tempted to look behind him but the hit man's last words rang in his ear, "Do not look back ... or you will die."
As he left the property, he felt a sense of relief. Wu would be dead soon and perhaps then he could find a way to truly get his life on track. He smiled to himself, he had an interview at 6pm at Broderick and Associates. He had 10 years of experience as a hiring manager for Lolland Co., he was certain he could get the same job at Broderick and Associates.
At 6pm, he sauntered into the building of Broderick and Associates with a smug look on his face. He knew he wasn't an important man right now but his luck was about to change. He would rise to the top where he had seen the sun set from a 16th floor window, many years ago.
"Hello madam, I'm here for the hiring manager interview," said Corlo to the receptionist. He noticed her blonde hair, slim figure and her youth and made a mental note of asking her to dinner if he managed to nab this job.
"You must be Corlo, we spoke on the phone. I will show you to the conference room," she said unsmiling. She stood up and gestured forward, "follow me."
When I get my job, I'll hire you to do tricks. I hope licking is one of them, he thought to himself as he stared at her slim figure and her hips moving left, right, left, right almost like music that he could hear through his eyes. They took an elevator to the 31st floor.
"Here we are sir," said the receptionist, interuppting Corlo's sexual reverie. "Please wait inside, someone will be with you shortly."
Corlo pushed open the mahogany doors and stepped inside the conference room. One wall of the room was entirely occupied by glass that afforded a view of the city that even Corlo's 16th floor view at Lolland Co., paled in comparison. In the center of the room was a long glass table that could have seated at least thirty people but despite its vastness, it was empty and impersonal as if it hadn't been used in some time. It was here Corlo waited for his interview.
Two minutes later, a man stepped into the conference room. Corlo glanced over at him and simutaneously a gun shot rang out. It hit Corlo with such an impact that he immediately dropped to the floor but oddly he could not move, not even to convulse in pain. He could not scream for help, all he could do was keep his eyes open and even that was starting to become an effort. A small bullet sized hole remained in the glass, evidence of a sniper of some sort.
The man in the conference room immediately dialled 911. Then for a few minutes, there was silence as Corlo's life slowly slipped away. "I told you to use it wisely," Corlo heard the man say. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was a familiar jade pendant but there was something different about it ... it had turned a dark shade of green.
There was a pay phone right beside Divine Deli, so he went to it and with a quarter he dialled the number on the paper. On the sixth ring, someone picked up the phone but said nothing. All Corlo could hear was silence and it unnerved him. After a few seconds he decided he would say what he had to say to the silence on the other end of the phone. "I need a man killed." His words seemed to echo ever-so-slightly and for the first time Corlo fully realized what he was about to do. Saying it out loud and hearing his own voice uttering those words made him realize the power he was about to wield with money. He was going to to take a man's life and there would be no returning from this point. His hatred for Wu blinded him to reason and the only logic he saw was his own anger towards a man who had once asked him for a job.
"His name and ten thousand dollars," said a voice through the phone. The utter lack of emotion in the voice stunned Corlo. This was a man who could not care whether someone lived or died for it was his livelihood to play god for money. Like a wolf that decides to hunt rabbits to survive, this man hunted and killed people for sustenance and his heart had become impervious to the human weakness, emotion. "Put both in an envelope. Go to 401 Holland Avenue, you will find an abandoned home. Push open the gate. Walk to the front door. Put the envelope under the doormat at 3:00pm. Leave. He will die by 6pm. Do not look back ... or you will die." The hit man spoke in short sentences, almost robotically. Clearly these were lines he had said time and time again; he was a man who was experienced with his trade.
"How do I know you won't steal my money?" asked Corlo nervously. There was no answer from the other end of the phone. A beeping sound reached Corlo's ears and it was a few seconds before he realized the man had already hung up.
By 2:59pm, Corlo had reached 401 Holland Ave, an old house, seemingly abandoned as the hit man had said. The house was surrounded by a black, wrought iron fence similar to the fences that enclosed graveyards where past victims of the hit man now lay. Although it was summer, the overgrown grass had faded to yellow, dead as this house seemed to be. The house spoke of neglect- from its dirty, grey brick to the roof covered in broken, black shingles as if someone had stomped all over it. The house cast an ominous shadow over the front yard; it truly was the type of house one would associate with the nefarious beings of society thus Corlo felt 401 Holland Ave was not only a place where murderous transactions were conducted but it was also the home of the hit man. Corlo walked quickly up to the front door of the house. In front of the door, a carpet so filthy that it's colour was no longer discernible, lay. Corlo took out a white envelope with the name 'Wu Xi' and ten thousand dollars in cash inside and shoved it under the carpet. Immediately he turned around and walked back towards the gate. He was tempted to look behind him but the hit man's last words rang in his ear, "Do not look back ... or you will die."
As he left the property, he felt a sense of relief. Wu would be dead soon and perhaps then he could find a way to truly get his life on track. He smiled to himself, he had an interview at 6pm at Broderick and Associates. He had 10 years of experience as a hiring manager for Lolland Co., he was certain he could get the same job at Broderick and Associates.
At 6pm, he sauntered into the building of Broderick and Associates with a smug look on his face. He knew he wasn't an important man right now but his luck was about to change. He would rise to the top where he had seen the sun set from a 16th floor window, many years ago.
"Hello madam, I'm here for the hiring manager interview," said Corlo to the receptionist. He noticed her blonde hair, slim figure and her youth and made a mental note of asking her to dinner if he managed to nab this job.
"You must be Corlo, we spoke on the phone. I will show you to the conference room," she said unsmiling. She stood up and gestured forward, "follow me."
When I get my job, I'll hire you to do tricks. I hope licking is one of them, he thought to himself as he stared at her slim figure and her hips moving left, right, left, right almost like music that he could hear through his eyes. They took an elevator to the 31st floor.
"Here we are sir," said the receptionist, interuppting Corlo's sexual reverie. "Please wait inside, someone will be with you shortly."
Corlo pushed open the mahogany doors and stepped inside the conference room. One wall of the room was entirely occupied by glass that afforded a view of the city that even Corlo's 16th floor view at Lolland Co., paled in comparison. In the center of the room was a long glass table that could have seated at least thirty people but despite its vastness, it was empty and impersonal as if it hadn't been used in some time. It was here Corlo waited for his interview.
Two minutes later, a man stepped into the conference room. Corlo glanced over at him and simutaneously a gun shot rang out. It hit Corlo with such an impact that he immediately dropped to the floor but oddly he could not move, not even to convulse in pain. He could not scream for help, all he could do was keep his eyes open and even that was starting to become an effort. A small bullet sized hole remained in the glass, evidence of a sniper of some sort.
The man in the conference room immediately dialled 911. Then for a few minutes, there was silence as Corlo's life slowly slipped away. "I told you to use it wisely," Corlo heard the man say. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was a familiar jade pendant but there was something different about it ... it had turned a dark shade of green.
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