RJA

Chapter 1

Two hundred sixty dollars. That's the amount of money I found in the cash register. Who knew "Jaspers Nick Nacks" would have so much cash? It must have been all the money they made that month. "Jasper's Nick Nacks" was a small shop on the corner of the back street next to the huge Walmart. I don't bother memorizing street names, I have enough to think about on my own.

My 'home'-it's temporary very temporary- is in the basement of a Chinese restaurant. I have enough money to buy an apartment, but I can't let any one look into my permanent record. Not that they'd find anything interesting on it. Just a few robberies here and there.

I walk around back toward the dumpster. The alley is thin it could fit three dumpsters all the way across. On the farthest side I crouch down next to it. I lift a 'Led Zeppelin' poster off the side. A small hole is cut out. Carefully I slide in, replace the poster the way it was before, then sit inside the hallow dumpster. The Chinese's real dumpster sits along the other side. This one hasn't been used in years.

I pull a flash light out of my jacket pocket. Another hole is in the inner side of the dumpster that runs through the wall of the basement. Again I slide through. This time
there is a bit a drop, but I have done this hundreds of time and have it down like a pro.

A single light hangs from the ceiling. I flip it on and an eery yellow light fills the small room. The only things that fill the room are a ratty couch, a single table with two half broken chairs, a block of a TV, a small box of clothes, a few books, a few knifes and a hand gun-that I have never had to use- under the couch, and a pair of black boots.

I set down my bag, full of my winnings on the table. I collapse on my couch and take a deep breath. It's been a long day. I had to stage a coughing fit while one of the three employees was off on his lunch brake, when the other-a lactose intolerant boy who accidentally had cream in his coffee- was using the restroom. The other employee was a young girl. She was new here and looked nervous. She freaked out when I started to sound like I was hacking up a lung. She ran to the employees lounge, that's when I went for the cash register. I was out of there in fifteen minutes.

I stood up from the couch and walked over to the box of my belongings. I reached in and grabbed a hand held mirror, and a hair brush. I took one look at my face and frowned. My face was so plain, nothing exotic or beautiful about it. Well I guess that was a good thing for the business I was in. I had flat brown hair, thin lips, and plain brown eyes. Although my eyes have a blue ring around my pupil that fades into a dark green.

I brush at my rats nest that I call hair. After I wrestle with it for far to long I throw it up into a pony-tail. "Time to eat." I stand up, and walk up to a shelf of boxes. Next to the wall I push it slightly, it moves. I push it harder and it gives a creek. I slip past it and move toward the door that sits on the other side.

I knock five times, wait for two as a response. After a moment I receive it. I open the door and am greeted by a chubby Chinese boy, his black hair is messy and sticking out in random places. He has a greasy apron looped around him. His smile is so bright it makes me smile.
"Hey Becca," he beams
"Hey Choi," I reply. Choi Kim is one of the cooks at 'The Dragons Belly'. His grandparents own the place, and he works here after school.
"Ready for dinner?" he asks
"You better believe it." Choi can always make me smile, he's been my best friend since I 'moved' here last summer. He found me in his alley. I may have threatened to cut off his you know what if he tried to touch me. But he simply smiled and said no one would miss it.
"Great! I'll go get the left overs." Choi has promised me left overs and a place to stay in exchange for half of whatever I made profit that week. It's like paying for rent.

I walked back to the shelf and sit down at the table. Choi comes back with two bowls of steaming Chinese food. "Eh hum," he before the shelf.
"Right! Sorry." I get up and push the shelf open some more. He chuckles as he waddles over to the table. At first we eat in silence, then Choi jumps into a very detailed story about how this old lady at the store today was so picky about how her food was made.
"I was like, Lady! Let me cook you food the way I cook it, I'm not your servant. I mean I know I'm Asian but America solved slavery a long time ago!" I laugh at how he bobbled his head when he imitates the old woman. After we finish our meals we talk for a while longer. He asked how 'work' was today (he always calls it work).
"What was it this time? Fake ankle?"
"No, the Lunge."
"Good ole' Lunge." Choi liked to come up with names for all my schemes. He named this one the Lunge because I lunge for the cash register when no ones looking. Also he said 'Lung' gives it away.

When Choi says good night and leaves it's about midnight. I fold down the couch and grab a blanket from my box. I set my alarm to go off at eight o'clock. I say a quick prayer, close my eyes, and rest for tomorrow.