night.”
Danny had worked as a waiter in a Chinese restaurant the Red Lotus for several months part-time. It let him pay for his university courses in translation. Sammy was himself Chinese and he was the owner of the restaurant. The rest of the staff was Chinese, but Sammy hired him anyway. Everyone was friendly with him and they worked hard when the restaurant was open. Both servers and cooks were busy with their tasks, because there were plenty of clients. Sammy had put him to the test for several weeks and he was very satisfied with him. He liked him well and he found him hardworking. But more than that, he found Danny serious and reserved, a quality he appreciated. Danny was always the first to leave the building. Sammy told him that he could leave and he, tired and happy to go see Chandra, never asked questions. That which intrigued him was when he had found a trap door on the kitchen floor. He had tried to lift it to see where it could lead, but Sammy had held up his hand and cried,
“No, no! You can’t go there. There’s rats. Don’t ever open the trap, they could spew out and spread the plague! Don’t ever go down there!”
“Ok, ok, I get it!! How could there be that many rats?”
“It’s an old building, we have a recurring problem. I’m trying to fix it soon. Don’t worry about it.”
The trap door intrigued him more than ever, but Sammy’s reaction all the more. The rats in the building, that made no sense. The restaurant was impeccable and he had never seen vermin in all his time working here. Never would Sammy have tolerated rats under the kitchen. No, it was something else, but he hadn’t tried to return. He found it equally curious that he has always left first. Why Sammy and the others stayed when the restaurant closed. He had decided that night to find answers. He left as usual and Sammy closed and locked the main entrance after he had left. However, there was a back door that was always closed and that lead into the kitchen. Danny had taken care to leave it open before leaving.
He waited twenty minutes, hidden in the shadows of the building’s exterior. He decided to enter through the back. Still ajar, he entered through the door. He inspected the kitchen: empty. He surveyed the restaurant: no-one. By all appearances, they hadn’t left the restaurant, because he had stayed on the scene the whole time and saw no-one leave. He returned to the trap door and tugged at it; it gave way to a staircase of a dozen steps. He could hear voices below. They were definitely there. Danny thought of closing the door and leaving as though he’d found nothing, but he couldn’t do it. He began to descend quietly and when he made it down, he realized where he was. It was a relatively vast concrete basement. Several blue neon lights hung from the walls and candles burned here and here. He could see a photo on a wall with a little altar fitted with a vase of incense. All his work colleagues were there in the middle of practicing kung fu. They had no similarity to the people he thought he knew, that is, reserved in their waiter’s uniforms. Most were nude to the waist. Some among them were covered in tattoos. The first to see him was a cook.
“Danny! What are you doing here!”
Sammy turned, surprised to see him on the staircase.
“Danny! How did you get here! You can’t stay here, it’s a private assembly. Just leave!” he said forcefully.
“Why do I have to leave? I’m as much a part of the restaurant as anyone else.”
“Listen, we practice, let’s say, a family style, and we train among the Chinese, and only the Chinese, to guard our tradition...and you are not Chinese!”
“Sammy, come on, try me.”
“No, I’m sorry, Danny”
“Come on Sammy,” said a practitioner in the group. “After all, he is practically more Chinese than several among us. He’s taken pains to get here.”
“ Ok, ok! Fair enough!” said Sammy. “Let’s go, get down here and join me!”
Danny was
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