"I lost my job today."
I lay back on the bed, propped up on my elbows, staring thoughtlessly at the wall in front of me. Jess lay behind me on her stomach, feet kicking slowly in the sultry summer air, leafing idly through a magazine. I'd utterred my last words softly and only served to interrupt her reading.
"Hmm?"
"I lost my job at Datatech."
"What?"
"They told me not to come back next week."
Jessie's concern flatterred me. She came around to sit next to me, a combination of disbeleif and sympathy shining in her sable eyes like sunshine in a cool mountain stream.
"Are you kidding?"
I'd met Jessica Phong at Datatech almost a year ago now when I'd arrived in town from up north looking for work. She'd taken a winter off to study at the local university and was clocking in time as a graphic designer, but an error in judgement involving a creative department meeting and a tray of medicinal brownies got her canned after only a couple months.
"They didn't even give you two weeks?"
If I'd stayed in school, Jess and I would both be juniors. Maybe that's part of what drew me to her like a moth to light; some sense of continuation or completion. Or maybe it was her melifluous voice or the way she swung her hips when she walked, with a confident defiance that simultaneously read "fuck me" and "fuck you" to the casual observer.
"Was Danny there?"
"Yeah, he was the one who broke it to me, but his hand was forced. I know he doesn't make those kind of decisions. He's a good guy, really."
"Danny?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he is."
Jess's parents had both been refugees from the war in Vietnam. Her folks and my folks had rushed to each other and the jaws of death through the steaming jungles of south-east Asia some thirty years ago at the beck and call of the rich and privileged. Two country's poor killing each other. Containment. A win-win situation for the affluent.
Her dad had left the family after Jess graduated high school and moved to Texas where he worked in the aerospace industry. Her mom was an insurance adjuster back in Jessie's home town only a couple miles west of Disney Land, not the happiest place on earth, but geographically approximate. I retain fond memories of sitting in mother Phong's driveway with Jess of a warm June evening, drinking beer and watching the fireworks over the park.
"Did they give you a reason?"
"Well not really. They just said 'it wasn't working out'. You know they're kind of short on cash anyway. I think they've been sizing up programming for a while. I'm sure I won't be the last guy to go."
I thought about my buddy Ash, an immigrant from the coast of Morocco who'd started with me last winter. I was pretty sure Ash -would- be the last guy to go. He was efficient, adaptable, and quiet. Putting himself through school while supporting his younger brother amidst a culture so wontonly intolerant of his, he couldn't afford to be anything but, yet Ash shoulderred his responsibilities at and aside from Datatech with an alacrity and patience that demonstrated more strength of character than survivalist cunning. I had nothing but respect for Ash and I could have learned a lot from his mannerisms. Too bad I clearly had not. For example, had I exercised an even tolerance of company policy like he did instead of shooting my mouth off all the time, maybe I'd still have a job. But today I didn't. Today I was back on the streets.
"Ellie says design's next. I guess they're gonna let all kinds of people go."
"Well, misery loves company, right?"
Ellie was a fellow designer who had kept in contact with Jess after she left. She was a good kid, and I liked her, although it was obvious she had a crush on my girl. I remember one awkward night specifically when I showed up at Jess's apartment to find the two of them hanging out in her room, paging through motor-sport magazines. As I stepped in through the door, noticing Ellie and shifting gears rapidly, Jessie fixed me with her warm, brown eyes aglow with feigned innocence.
"Oh, hi Slick. Let's ask him. Hey Slick, what's a turbo-charger do?"
I picked up on the situation immediately. Ellie had clearly not been appraised of our dinner plans, allowed through withheld information to assume Jessie had set aside an entire evening to spend with her. For stealing her away, I felt inaudably accused of capitalizing on various unfair biological advantages, but Ellie was far too polite to betray the obvious resentment that boiled up the walls of the room around us, as if Jess's sadistic manipulations were mine or caused me any less discomfort.
Truth to tell, Jess was playing everybody, especially me. Years of dealing drugs between classes and dabbling in amateur porn had painted her a pretty sordid picture of life, I guess, and the souls that tumble through it like dried leaves in a hurricane. Against the grey backdrop of entropy, in the oily shadow of mortality, every cooling body was a mark; every slowing heart a twitchy junkie pining for a fix. And everyone's hit was different. Wealth, religion, power, morality, meth -- everyone needed something to grind them through one more worthless day.