The lunchtime rush finally subsided. Most of the customers left, leaving behind dirty tables and welcome silence.
Mr. Kim came into the kitchen, looking tired. He grabbed a bottle of water and took a large gulp.
"Good job, kid," he said. "We handled it well."
He looked at me. "And thanks. For letting it go, earlier."
"He didn't deserve it," I said, cleaning the griddle.
"I know," said Mr. Kim. "But sometimes, you have to pick your battles. This restaurant is all I have. I can't afford to have problems with the soldiers from the base."
He sighed. "It's not always fair. But that's life."
We worked in silence for a while.
Then, the bell on the front door rang.
"I'll get it," said Mr. Kim.
I heard him greet the customer. His voice was polite, as usual.
Then, his tone changed. It became tense.
"We're closed for the afternoon break," he said.
"I don't think so," replied a voice I didn't recognize. A cold, arrogant voice. "We're just here to pick up our employee."
