The Dragon King

Blu Water Green Lake was more than just a restaurant nestled in Midwest City—it was a place that had, for better or worse, become the backdrop to Katharine's life. Known for its family-friendly atmosphere and thoughtful touches, like paper and crayons handed out by servers to restless children, it was also fully wheelchair accessible, welcoming a diverse crowd from the community.

She found herself tethered to Blue Water Green Lake, not by ambition but by circumstance. The regulars all knew the stories—how her father, Thomas Smith, had squandered their savings with reckless abandon in the haze of gambling and alcohol. Rumors rippled through the dining room and echoed in back corners, painting vivid tales of his late-night escapades and the mounting debts that gnawed at their family.

Yet Katharine persevered, refusing to allow whispers and pity to define her. She was trapped by the reality that few employers would tolerate the volatile presence of her father. On more than one occasion, he'd shown up at a new job, shouting and causing a scene, forcing managers to let her go. The Blue Water Green Lake was the only place where she could work undisturbed, even as she felt the walls of circumstance closing in.

This evening, as she prepared to close up, the sky outside had grown wild, illuminated by jagged flashes of lightning and shaken by the relentless thunder. The restaurant's windows rattled with each boom, the storm outside echoing the turmoil that churned within. Alone in the dim glow, Katharine moved from table to table, her mind heavy with memories and worries, unwilling to abandon her post until every last chore was done.

She could never shake the anger that simmered after her mother abandoned them, vanishing overseas and marrying a stranger she’d met while visiting a friend in England. When her mother returned, it was only to file for divorce—she left with almost nothing, except the paperwork proving her freedom from Thomas. That final, abrupt departure left Katharine feeling betrayed, forced to pick up the pieces her mother had left behind and shoulder burdens that were never meant to be hers. To make matters worse, all the money in their bank account had vanished. She made the tough decision to forgo college. In order to care for her father and prevent him from getting into any more trouble. With his reckless gambling and the constant calls from the banks about the loan, he had taken it out. Even the loan sharks started showing up at their apartment multiple times. Eventually, the landlord had enough, and they were forced to find a new place to live.

The sound of her ringing cellphone interrupted the silence, and she reluctantly answered, already aware that it could be the bank calling about her payment. She checked her phone, and it was her boss calling.

“Katharine, make sure you clean the bathroom because someone got sick and now there’s vomit all over.”

“Why not assign that to James before he left for the day?”

“You’re aware that James has a weak stomach?”

“Boss, with all due respect... You could have convinced James to stay and assist me with tidying up the mess.”

"I trusted you, Katherine, with the restaurant more than James."

She just hangs up on her boss before finishing speaking, she went to check the door to make sure it was locked before going into the back of the restaurant to clean. As she put the bucket and rag back into the kitchen, to see all the dirty dishes in the sink like before. She must clean the kitchen and bathroom so she can leave for the night. Katharine went into the closet to take out the hazard suit to clean up bodily waste in the bathroom, and she hated doing it.

Katherine proceeded to the bathroom. She didn’t mind being alone in the restaurant at this hour; silence felt more like a companion than a threat, and the hum of the storm outside only sharpened her focus. This wasn’t the first time her boss had given her the worst chores—she remembered her first day, scrubbing the aftermath of some unseen chaos while Jimmy dodged responsibility with a practiced shrug.

She entered the cramped cleaning closet, retrieving the disinfectant and dragging it near the open bathroom door. Flicking on the hot water hose, she sprayed down the wall, toilet, and every patch of tile she suspected might have been contaminated. Protective shoe covers shielded her from any misstep into the mess. Methodically, she doused the toilet, sink, and even the wall with the disinfectant, though the sharp chemical smell reminded her of how ineffective these supplies truly were—her boss always ordered the cheapest products, no match for stubborn viruses or lingering germs.

Katharine refused to use the battered mop that lurked behind the door; she’d seen too many smears, too many stains, and believed it harbored its own ecosystem of bacteria by now. Instead, she relied on a rotation of colored rags—blue for sinks, red for the toilet, yellow for the walls—and a sturdy scrub brush for the floor. The work was slow, and her fingers stung from the chemicals, but it was efficient and thorough, born from necessity and pride. This routine, though thankless, gave her a sense of control in a life otherwise dictated by chaos.

Just look out of the window to see that it’s still raining even harder than before, sighing to herself, and rethinking of how she is to be getting home, checking the time. It was getting late as she checked the clock; it was 11:30 pm. She doesn’t really want to catch a cab home, so she probably just walked home without an umbrella and hopes that her father is not out there gambling.

About an hour later, everything is completed. She left the trash by the back door as a reminder to take it out.

While charging her phone and listening to music in the office, Katharine noticed a sticky note from her boss.

“The delivery will come late. Please put everything away and leave the bill in the office,”

Jimmy

A hot shower is calling her name, but she has to wait for the food truck to arrive before she can go home. Besides that, after tidying up, she went to the door and saw someone standing in the rain. Finding it unsettling, she went back inside to watch videos on her phone until the delivery arrived. The office phone startled her, but she recognized the number - it was her boss calling - so she answered.

“Yes, Jimmy, I am waiting for the truck to come,”

“I tried calling your cellphone to let you know that the delivery truck would arrive in the morning, and I observed you had cleaned the kitchen and washed the dishes.”

“Thank you for letting me go. I will see you Wednesday?”

“How about this? You did everything with no problem. I will give you an entire week with pay. I could let James and Emily take on your shifts,”

“Thanks, I will lock up,”

“Okay, I will see you next week,”

“Yes, you will,”

Katharine hangs up the phone, excited to have a week off at the same time as she wants to find another job. She gathers her things, turns off the lights, and leaves through the back door, taking out the trash with her before walking home in the rain despite the risk of getting sick. The apartment is not that far from where she works, just remember her bus goes to her street, and takes out her wallet. She has two dollars left, so she must use it to get home. Why does she feel like someone is following her? There were two people at the bus stop also for it, as the bus pulled up, she paid her way on and took a seat.