It's Going to be a Good Week... I Can Tell.

“Yes I am a genius, and it will give us a bit of time to get into trouble and maybe help some people. Tell me more about those people who need us. I believe you said they’re Buddhist?”
“Yes, as you know, Buddhists are more into peace and tranquility than they are into hellfire and brimstone. Buddhist monks are seldom a problem. The problem here is the temple itself.”
Danny could tell from Davy’s new upbeat voice that the thought of helping someone in trouble was bringing him back to life. He knew the things Davy had said to him earlier hadn’t come easily. Danny also knew he was having some questions of his own.
“How could a Buddhist temple be a problem?” asked Danny.
“For the past hundred years the temple has been owned by one family, the Kims. Actually, the temple itself is just one large room in a building on Canal Street. The building also houses a store and a couple of apartments.”
“Sounds like a nice arrangement,” said Danny.
“It was, like I said for a hundred years. When Great-Grandfather Kim bought the building, he used the store and urged the people to take whatever action was needed to have the room consecrated as a temple. He then gave the room, or the use of it rather, to the people. Everyone was happy, the Kims, the people using the temple, and the ones renting the apartments.”
“Let me guess,” commented Danny, “here comes the ‘but’.”
“Right, here comes the ‘but’. About a year ago, a street gang muscled in on the present Mr. Kim, Wong Kim, demanding protection. You know the rest.”
“I believe I do,” said Danny. “And I’ll bet now they’re demanding protection from the temple.”
“Right on the nose, Good Reverend.”
“They’re demanding protection money from the Kims and the people in the temple.”
Davy nodded. “If they don’t pay, there’s going to be a fire or something bad is going to happen.”
“That’s the way it works.”
“Have they gone to the police?”
“Yes, but the police can’t be there twenty-four seven. The people know this.”
Danny looked at Davy. “We’ve taken on gang bangers before. I don’t see why–“
”We haven’t taken on Chinese gang bangers before. I know we’ve taken on Hispanics, but those people are bruisers. They do their thing with brute force. The Chinese are smarter. I hate to use the term finesse, but–“
”Gangs are gangs,” said Danny. “We do what we always do. We find their weak spot and we use it.”
Danny looked at Davy. “You’ve already got an idea of how you want to do this, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I believe we should talk to Mr. Kim first.”
“Now, you’re making sense,” smiled Danny.
Davy pulled out a slip of paper. “I have the man’s name and address. He’s definitely old-style Chinese. He’s just what you would expect, a gentleman.”
The next afternoon, Danny and Davy went into Mr. Kim’s store on Canal Street. The second they entered, they both smiled. They were immediately greeted by pleasant, yet unfamiliar aromas from the groceries filling the shelves and the meats and vegetables along the side wall.
Behind the counter they were greeted by a pleasant man in an apron. “We would like to see Mr. Kim if that is possible,” announced Davy.
“I am Fong Kim, how may I serve you? The duck today is especially nice.”
“Mr. Kim, my name is Reverend Tait and this is Father West.”
“I am very pleased to meet you,” said the man with a modest bow of his head. “Now, how can I help you?”
“It is not what you can do for us, Mr. Kim, I hope it is what we can do for you.”
“Thank you, but am not a Christian. Please have good day.” With that, Kim turned away and began arranging what appeared to be pig’s feet.
“No, Mr. Kim, we’re not here for anything like that.”
“Then what you here for?” Kim asked without turning around.
“I believe you are having problems with some street toughs.”
Kim stopped what he was doing but made no effort to turn around. “Street toughs? What street toughs?”
“Gangs, Mr. Kim. Selling protection.”
“Don’t know what you talk about. Know nothing about street toughs. Don’t waste time. Please leave.”
Danny went around the counter and stood beside Kim. He could see the firm resolve on the proud man’s face.
“Mr. Kim,” he said. “For a hundred years, you and your family have occupied this store, rented apartments and provided your people with a temple where they could worship. This is no small accomplishment. Now, all this is being threatened by people with lesser values. Please tell me if I’m wrong. If I am, we will leave.”