taxi everywhere. Those options were simply impractical, so she made a cash purchase of a brand new, wonderful smelling Ford Escape. She had her first fender bender pulling into traffic from the dealership.
Zang unlocked her car and carefully maneuvered out of the apartment complex’s lot. She drove only on side streets to and from her office or the occasional trip to a nearby shopping area. Today she was going somewhere new, and the concept terrified her.
Twenty minutes and numerous single-finger insults later, the harried girl parked in front of the Almaden Plaza strip mall. A bubbling, young real estate broker energetically escorted her thought the small retail space that was available for immediate occupancy. Within two hours, a new California business was born – Red and Gold Check Cashing and Postal Center would celebrate its grand opening two weeks later.
Zang rented space for three different branch locations of Red and Gold that day. She was unaware that MOSS seeded hundreds of similar enterprises throughout all 50 states, all under the operation of Chinese immigrants. The sheer number of the mail/check cashing centers would have aroused suspicion if anyone tracked such things. Most communities welcomed the fledgling establishments, replacing empty storefronts pasted with “For Lease” signs with a business and jobs.
Houston, Texas
January 30, 2017
Morgan shifted into park and reached to switch off the ignition, but then paused. Seeing the house made her contemplate staying in the air-conditioned car just a little longer. Even with the moderate temperatures this time of year, the house would be muggy and close. The occasional hot flash made it practically unbearable. Darkness came early with the winter-shortened days, and she rarely got home before the sunset. Still, the house seemed to hold the heat inside no matter how many windows Wyatt and she opened. She would never have believed a cold-water shower could feel so good.
The sauna-house didn’t seem to bother Wyatt as much. She wondered if menopause was more to blame than the humidity, but shrugged off the thought – there wasn’t anything she could do about either. Still deliberating about going inside, she wondered what mood Wyatt would be in. She fully understood the relationship between the current financial crisis and the bailout deal Wyatt was trying to put together. The daily newscasts had gone from bad to worse, and even her co-workers were becoming concerned. In the past, few people paid attention to events surrounding Wall Street and big banks - now, everyone did.
A year ago, she would have been anxious about her husband’s health. After all, over the last few months there had been a noticeable change in him. He often seemed beyond caring or even capable of worry. Maybe he had learned not to let things get to him. At least he didn’t show anxiety like he used to. Still, she wondered if the pressure wasn’t building up inside like a big dome of lava under the crusty mantle of a volcano. Eventually, the volcano erupts.
The tight financial situation hadn’t been a complete negative for the family. If Morgan forced herself to be optimistic, there were a few small , silver linings to be found. Wyatt often teased that his wife could find something positive in a heart attack. One reassuring point was Wyatt himself. These days, the talk around the water cooler commonly included accounts of men who lost their livelihood and took a nosedive right into the deep end. Details always involved drinking, divorce, abuse or other tales of horror. Wyatt was an exception to what had become the stereotypical bread earner who had succumbed to bad behavior after an economic demise. While he didn’t smile as often or laugh as easily, he was basically the same man as before. Quiet and surreal would be better words than moody , she thought.
Morgan shut off the motor and walked gingerly to the front door. Her feet were killing her after the ten- hour
Zang unlocked her car and carefully maneuvered out of the apartment complex’s lot. She drove only on side streets to and from her office or the occasional trip to a nearby shopping area. Today she was going somewhere new, and the concept terrified her.
Twenty minutes and numerous single-finger insults later, the harried girl parked in front of the Almaden Plaza strip mall. A bubbling, young real estate broker energetically escorted her thought the small retail space that was available for immediate occupancy. Within two hours, a new California business was born – Red and Gold Check Cashing and Postal Center would celebrate its grand opening two weeks later.
Zang rented space for three different branch locations of Red and Gold that day. She was unaware that MOSS seeded hundreds of similar enterprises throughout all 50 states, all under the operation of Chinese immigrants. The sheer number of the mail/check cashing centers would have aroused suspicion if anyone tracked such things. Most communities welcomed the fledgling establishments, replacing empty storefronts pasted with “For Lease” signs with a business and jobs.
Houston, Texas
January 30, 2017
Morgan shifted into park and reached to switch off the ignition, but then paused. Seeing the house made her contemplate staying in the air-conditioned car just a little longer. Even with the moderate temperatures this time of year, the house would be muggy and close. The occasional hot flash made it practically unbearable. Darkness came early with the winter-shortened days, and she rarely got home before the sunset. Still, the house seemed to hold the heat inside no matter how many windows Wyatt and she opened. She would never have believed a cold-water shower could feel so good.
The sauna-house didn’t seem to bother Wyatt as much. She wondered if menopause was more to blame than the humidity, but shrugged off the thought – there wasn’t anything she could do about either. Still deliberating about going inside, she wondered what mood Wyatt would be in. She fully understood the relationship between the current financial crisis and the bailout deal Wyatt was trying to put together. The daily newscasts had gone from bad to worse, and even her co-workers were becoming concerned. In the past, few people paid attention to events surrounding Wall Street and big banks - now, everyone did.
A year ago, she would have been anxious about her husband’s health. After all, over the last few months there had been a noticeable change in him. He often seemed beyond caring or even capable of worry. Maybe he had learned not to let things get to him. At least he didn’t show anxiety like he used to. Still, she wondered if the pressure wasn’t building up inside like a big dome of lava under the crusty mantle of a volcano. Eventually, the volcano erupts.
The tight financial situation hadn’t been a complete negative for the family. If Morgan forced herself to be optimistic, there were a few small , silver linings to be found. Wyatt often teased that his wife could find something positive in a heart attack. One reassuring point was Wyatt himself. These days, the talk around the water cooler commonly included accounts of men who lost their livelihood and took a nosedive right into the deep end. Details always involved drinking, divorce, abuse or other tales of horror. Wyatt was an exception to what had become the stereotypical bread earner who had succumbed to bad behavior after an economic demise. While he didn’t smile as often or laugh as easily, he was basically the same man as before. Quiet and surreal would be better words than moody , she thought.
Morgan shut off the motor and walked gingerly to the front door. Her feet were killing her after the ten- hour
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