Read America's Sunset: A Post Apocalyptic Fight for Survival for Free Online

one hundred degree-plus Houston summer days. Truth be told, it wasn’t an alleys you wanted to walk down on most days. Knowing where to go and where not to go was all part of growing up in the Third Ward of Houston. It could be a tough area for most kid and especially for one that’s a little different. 
     
    “Well,” Harish said out loud. “Let’s see what’s behind door number one, shall we.”
    He pushed the door open and wrinkled his nose at the sight within.
    “Hmm. Looks like someone couldn’t hold their booze,” he said, as he was confronted with a stall decorated with stomach bile, regurgitated malt beer, popcorn and pepperoni.
    He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Lucy, his manager, covering her mouth as she tried to suppress her gag reflex.
    “Hello, Lucy. What brings you here to my office on this cheery Sunday morning?”
    Harish flashed her the nicest smile he could muster. Lucy was his manager, and the prettiest girl he got to talk to these days. She actually talked back to him, which was a real bonus. The fact that she was his manager didn’t deter Harish.
    “Geez, how can you stand the smell in this place?”
    “Oh, it’s not so bad … you kind of get used to it. I’ve smelled worse.”
    Lucy half smiled. “Really?” Lucy tried to control her gag reflex. “The owner is in his office, and he wants to have a word with you.”
    “Sure thing.” Harish kept smiling as he removed his gloves.
    “Finish cleaning this up first though. This is more of a priority.” Lucy barely got her last words out before leaving the room.
     
    The smile gradually disappeared from Harish’s face as he pulled the gloves back up. His mind considered the possibilities. There were generally only a few reasons to get called into the owner’s office. He was either being fired, or being praised for doing something exceptional. Most of his collegues would have been convinced they were being fired. In which case, why even bother cleaning up this disgusting mess?
    “There’s no point doing a job half-way,” he said. “If they want to fire the guy that made the floors in the washroom clean enough to eat off of, that’s their loss.”
    He pulled the heavy duty scraper out of his cleaning kit, and proceeded to remove the worst of the hardened vomit from the walls. Once the walls were scraped and cleaned, he moved to the floor around the toilet. The spots behind the toilet are always the worst , he thought. No one ever wants to reach around back there. That’s where he started, and by the time he was done, every square inch of the place, including the floor behind the toilet, was indeed clean enough to eat off.
     
    An hour later, Harish exited the washroom, whistling to himself. He dropped off his cleaning cart in the supply closet, then headed off to find Wayne, the owner. He’d never actually met the owner before. Lucy was the one that interviewed and hired him. Wayne never seemed to be around the theater very often. He was always off at some convention or something. Harish figured Wayne just wanted to meet the new guy. That made sense. No reason to assume anything more than that.
    Harish knocked on the office door, and when no one answered, he tried the handle, but it was locked. Must be gone for the day , he thought. I’ll find him tomorrow.
    “Can I help you, son?” came a voice from down the hall.
    “Yes, sir, I’m Harish. Lucy said you wanted to speak with me.”
    Wayne looked puzzled. “Harish?”
    “I go by Harry sometimes,” Harish answered. “Makes it easier for people to remember. It’s a little more American,” he said with a grin. “That’s the name I used on my resume.”
    Truth be told, Harish always used the Americanized version of his name when possible. As open-minded as most people could be, there were still those that would discriminate based solely on a name. He hoped Wayne wasn’t one of them. Wayne just stared for a second or two.
    “OK, that kind of makes sense