The street is noisy this evening. The footsteps of the resident’s echo against the cobblestones. Their talk comes back to the child's ears, deafening. He doesn't like the city and its noises. Even the smells are always spoiled by something. He was enjoying the intoxicating aroma of warm bread coming out of a bakery when a truck drove by with the smell of exhaust. A pungent taste almost instantly seized his mouth.
He just wanted to go home and enjoy the comfort of his house. His father forced him to go out to get away from it all but he hated it. Since the accident everything is different. The world has become different in his eyes. His perception is not the same. His father snaps him out of his thoughts.
- What would you like to eat tonight, Matt?
The boy turns his head in his direction.
- I don't know, Dad, whatever you like.
They both arrive in front of an Asian restaurant. The smell is unmistakable. He smells the mixture of wok-cooked food, the smell of soy sauce and coconut milk.
- I'm in the mood for some Asian food tonight myself, is that okay?
Matt nods with a shrug. They enter the building and a voice with a strong Chinese accent greets them.
- Hello, welcome to Wang's. Can I serve you?
He does very well despite his accent.
- So, I'd like to order...
The father pauses for a moment, looking at what he is going to choose.
- Two vegetable soups, two sesame caramel chickens and beef skewers with lemongrass. All to go please. Is that all right, son?
- Yes, yes, that's fine.
Once they've been served, they leave the shop and head for their little flat in Hell Kitchen, a neighbourhood that's always been a bad place. The small-time thugs are on the rampage, shaking down and beating up the unfortunate people who cross their path. And if you're wondering what the police are doing, well, they're not doing much. A quarter of the force is crooked, and the rest are too busy dealing with the rising power of the drug lords. In any case, Matt and his father can't afford to move to a better place.
On their way home, they pass a group of young people. One of them calls out to them.
- Hey, mister, do you have any spare change by any chance? I'd like to buy something to eat.
He smells of sweat and cigarette smoke. But another smell disturbs Matt as he approaches. His father remains calm and replies politely.
- Yes, I must have that, wait.
Matt hears his father take out his wallet and look for a note.
- Here, this should do it.
The young man snickers a little before moving closer to take the ticket.
- Well, I can see that you're not to be pitied, considering the thickness of your wallet.
His father laughed embarrassedly. He let his hand fall back into his pocket to put the rest of his money away.
Matt finally recognised the smell he had smelt. It was the smell of gunpowder. He knew immediately that the young man in front of them had a gun on him.
- Finally I may have to ask you to give me all your money.
His friends, who had been standing back during the beginning of the exchange, now approached in a funnel in front of Matt and his father. Two of them pull butterfly knives from their pockets and twirl them around.
- Okay boy, I'll give you, my money. Don't hurt us, I have a kid with me.
- Shut the fuck up and give me the money.
The voice came from one of the other kids in the group. The others start laughing.
Matt's heart starts to beat faster, his fathers too. He feels it. His father takes out the rest of the notes he had in his possession and gives them all to him.
-Oh, thank you, that's so kind.
The young man laughs again and snatches the bundle from his hands. The sound of the crumpled notes sends a shiver down Matt's spine.
- Now get out of here with your kid and his sunglasses. You're a pity.
The father swallows loudly and puts his hand on the boy's shoulder.
- Come on son, let's go home.
They continue their way while the youngsters continue to laugh behind their backs.
When they reach the house, his father sits down on a chair and starts to cry softly. Nothing can be heard but the sound of tears crashing to the floor. After a few seconds, he sits up and turns to his son.
- Come here, son. Are you all right?
Matt turns to him and answers gently.
- Yeah, Dad, don't worry.
- Look, I don't want you to have to go through this your whole life. This neighbourhood doesn't deserve a nice kid like you.
The father sobs between sentences but continues.
- I know you're just a kid, but later you'll have to leave when you can. At least you can live your life properly, start a family and be happy.
The boy listens carefully to his father, not daring to interrupt.
- I know I'm not the best father and I wish your mother was here to help me but that's the way life is. In any case, don't become a loser like me. You have the potential to be whatever you want to be, don't waste it.
- Okay, Dad, I'll try to make you proud.
- You're a good boy. Come here.
Matt comes forward and hugs him. The embrace is pleasant. It lasts several minutes before his father lets go.
- Come on, I'll heat up the food and we'll have a good time tonight. Go wash your hands, it will be ready in a few minutes.