by Jack Bunker
He turned, surprised to hear his name called out. He recognized me behind the wheel and hurried over to the car.
“Wes, what the fuck are you doing here? We been hearing all kinds of stories.” He leaned around to get a better look at my face. “Sounds like they’re true, too.”
“You got time for lunch?”
“I don’t want trouble.”
“How much time do you have?”
Kwan couldn’t help grinning. “I’m my own boss, you know that.”
“Then get in. I’m buying.”
Kwan hesitated, looked over his shoulder.
I caught his eye. “Aren’t you getting a little tired of Korean food?”
* * *
Kwan scanned El Ranchito’s one-page menu. On the table in front of us was a plate of radishes, an assortment of hot-sauce bottles, and a bowl of salsa roja redolent with cilantro and chopped onion. We’d driven over to the heart of East LA, where I felt we were reasonably safe from any search-and-destroy Koreans.
A black-haired waitress, curvy and thick around the middle, came over for our order.
Kwan said, “I’ll have the carne asada tacos and a Dos Equis.”
I said to the waitress, “Albondigas—that’s like a meatball soup, right?”
She nodded and I told her to bring me a bowl, along with a Coke.
When she was gone, Kwan leaned in close and said, “Wes. There’s lots of talk about you at Saja. I think there’s one asshole who’s even taking bets on how long you’ll survive. The place isn’t the same after Dae-Hyun got his head blown off.”
“I wonder about that guy sometimes. I wonder if he knew what kind of danger he was in.”
Kwan stabbed at a radish, clumsy with a fork instead of chopsticks. “Word got out that I was your best man.”
“That sucks. Are you going to be in trouble over that?”
“I didn’t think it was any big deal. But guess who came into the club last night?”
“Who?”
“Shin Doko,” said Kwan. “The motherfucker sat down right next to me. It was just when Min Jee was bringing me a bowl of kimchi jjigae. I couldn’t even eat. Shin asked for the microphone. He sang ‘Pyun Ji.’”
“What’s ‘Pyun Ji’?”
“It’s a song about family honor and death. Shin looked at me when he was singing, like he was telling me I was going to die. Fucking song went on forever.”
The waitress brought our food and drinks. Kwan ate half a taco in one bite.
“I wish life was simple again,” said Kwan. “Eating, drinking, singing. It’s nice when a girl sings a love song and looks at you. When Shin sang to me, I could feel his bony fingers around my throat.”
“Did he ask you about me?”
“No. As far as I know he didn’t even talk to Ms. Tam. Shin was just marking his territory. He had one little glass of soju and left.”
“I’ve tried to negotiate with Shin,” I said. “No dice.”
“You should move out of LA,” said Kwan. “Go somewhere the Koreans haven’t settled. Go to Miami, someplace like that.”
I tried the albondigas soup. Excellent. Instead of enjoying my lunch I should be worried as hell about Shin. Instead I felt a sense of peace.
I broke up a meatball with my spoon and said, “I miss the Saja Room.”
Kwan looked at me like I was crazy. “Don’t even think about going there. I’m serious. You should get out of town.”
I mulled it over in my mind. Up until today, it was stubbornness that was keeping me from running. Now there was something else mixed up in it. I didn’t feel like running away. I liked the people I was with. I liked all of them: Yun, Soo Jin, Mi-Cha, and Tae-Yong. Maybe I even loved them.
“Up until today I’ve been playing a defensive game,” I said, stirring my soup with my spoon. “I think it’s time to go on the offense.”
Kwan covered his ears with both hands and moaned. “Tell me I’m not hearing this.”
* * *
I knew I was pushing my luck, but after dropping Kwan off I drove back to the clinic. I wasn’t sure when Royal was finished with his shift but figured there was a good chance he was still working. I parked in the clinic’s small lot and watched the door for a minute or two—just because I was being reckless didn’t mean I had to be foolhardy. I didn’t see anyone coming in or out that I should be worried about. I screwed up my nerve and went inside, straight to the receptionist.
I leaned in close and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, “Hello, ma’am. Earlier today I was in here for my checkup.”
“I remember you,” said the receptionist.
I guess that wasn’t that hard to do, since the number of whites coming through the door were few and far between.
“You see,” I said, waving a small piece of paper in my hand. “My nurse, Royal, gave me instructions about a new therapy for my condition. I’d made some notes, but I’m pretty sure that writing them down, I missed something. Could you do me a big favor and just buzz him out here for a second?”
The receptionist stood up. “I’ll get him for you.”
I watched her disappear along the corridor to the examination rooms. I looked over my shoulder and was gratified to not see anyone that set off alarm bells. This time of the afternoon it was mainly moms with kids.
The receptionist came out trailing Royal. I put my hand on his arm and led him over to a corner.
I said in hushed tones, “The receptionist is here because she thinks I need some medical info. I’m going to hand you a piece of paper with my phone number on it. Call me tonight. It’s important.”
Royal grinned like a kid receiving a candy bar. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Call me tonight. We have lots to talk about.”
“I’m sure we do,” said Royal.
THIRTY-ONE
I was sitting in the living room. Yun and Soo Jin were watching a Korean costume drama called The Moon that Embraces the Sun, and I was reading Keith Richards’s autobiography, Life. I was amazed at how smart the man was on the page, since when he spoke he could hardly get out a complete sentence. Keith either had a good ghostwriter or he’d rewired his brain with copious drugs and alcohol in such a way that he was an excellent writer and a mush-mouthed man.
One passage bounced back and forth in my mind, how Keith figured hell and heaven are the same place. What made a hell out of heaven would be sitting up there on a fluffy cloud, but you’d be invisible to your family members—they’d pass you by, not even seeing you. But you could see them. That would be hell.
My cell rang and I picked it up off the table, where it sat next to a cup of green tea and random crumbs from an Oreo cookie.
I heard Royal’s voice ask, “Is that you?”
I stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “Hey, man, thanks for calling. Ever since we talked in the clinic I’ve been thinking.”
“I’ve been wondering myself,” said Royal. “You’re acting very mysterious. But I have to say, I’m enjoying the way everything is unfolding.”
“Do you think we can get together tonight? I’d like to run some ideas by you. One idea mainly.”
“I think I could do that for a guy like you.”
The flirty tone Royal was taking was making me uncomfortable, but I guess it went with the territory. I asked him where he lived.
“I’m in West Hollywood,” answered Royal.
“Is there a good bar near your place? Somewhere we can talk?”
“Scads. How about The Dime? On Fairfax south of Rosewood.”
“Great. Thirty minutes?”
“I’ll be there.”
I hung up and saw Yun staring at me with an intensity she hadn’t shown the drama on TV.
“Thirty minutes?” said Yun. “You’re going somewhere?”
“I’m going out.”
“I heard you,” said Yun, frowning. “You’re getting together with someone? Who is she?”
“You got it all wrong. It’s not like that.”
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“You can have a hundred women,” said Yun. “If that’s what you want, go for it. But if you’re with me, you’re with me only.”
Soo Jin looked over her shoulder, as though her fears about Yun and I being together were confirmed. The problem was, Soo Jin lived in a fairy-tale world—it would have been obvious to anyone else by now that Yun and I were fucking each other.
Yun asked, “Who are you seeing?”
“It’s not what you think,” I said. “It’s a guy.”
“That’s bull,” countered Yun. “You were talking to him like you talk to a woman.”
“He’s a gay guy, all right?” I said, feeling embarrassed. “I learned some important information today. This guy might help me solve our problems.”
“Then take me with you,” said Yun.
“No. I have to do this by myself.”
“You are such a bullshitter.”
I waved her into the kitchen, away from Soo Jin. Yun followed me over to the stove, eyes glaring. Part of me liked seeing her jealous. I placed my hands on her shoulders as gently as possible—the last thing I needed was for her to think I was roughing her up.
“Listen,” I said. “I’m not playing games. I’m scared for me, I’m scared for you, the kids, Soo Jin. I just want to make things better. I’m going to go see this guy and run a plan by him. Maybe it won’t amount to anything. But I’ve got a target on my back. I don’t want to die. I have lots of reasons to live.”
“You’re not going to die,” said Yun. “Not if I can help it.”
“Right now, the way I see it, I have two choices—to run or stay. If I stay and hide like a rabbit, I’m going to be chopped. I’ve been lucky so far, but sooner or later I’m going to fuck up. So please, let me do what I have to do. And don’t kick me out of your bed. I need those hours in the middle of the night with you. It’s gas in my tank.”
“Why can’t I go?” said Yun, looking weak. I’d never seen her look anything but strong.
“Don’t push my luck,” I said as I headed toward the door.
* * *
I parked and walked toward The Dime. Back in the day it was probably just a shot and a beer joint; now LA was lifting nondescript dumps like this into dive-bar status, as though they held some magic of yesteryear. If LA hipsters ever made it out to Pittsburgh, dive bars would lose their charm quick—in some parts of town they were six to a block.
Inside, it took a moment or two for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The juke box was playing a tune I recognized from high school, “What’s Luv?” by Fat Joe. I remembered old times driving aimlessly as it played on the radio.
I saw Royal holding down a table for two. He had a bottle of Pabst in front of him, which surprised me. I figured him to be the colorful cocktail type of guy.
He gave me a wave, and I weaved past the drinkers two-deep at the bar. I asked a passing waitress if they had Hite. She said they did, and I asked her to bring one over to the table.
Royal was grinning when I sat down. I’d only seen him in his nurse’s whites. Tonight he was wearing a black Hollister T-shirt and a leather beret. The way his eyes shone he might have been wearing a little makeup, too.
“Wes, do you know how often I’ve been out in the last six months?” asked Royal, with a phony frown. “Zero. I’ve been so depressed I haven’t moved out of the house except for work. I am so thankful you called.”
“That’s a long time to stay home. Why?”
Royal gestured at his chubby torso. “This. Walter left me because I was too fat. Five years we were together. You’d think that would mean something. When he left me I decided I’d get right back up on the horse and went out to Rage. You know the place?”
“It’s a gay disco, something like that, right?”
“Yes. Well I walked in, feeling very confident and a little scared, since I hadn’t been cruising for such a long time. The first thing I heard was two boys laughing behind their hands at me. One of them said, ‘He’d better be a bottom. If he was a top he’d squash his lover.’ I felt crushed, no pun intended, and turned around and left. So, for six long months it’s been TV and cookies.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling good about this.”
“How are your bruises?”
“They don’t hurt so much anymore.”
“You know, a massage is good for the healing process.”
The waitress set down my Hite with a knock. Royal watched me take a sip and asked, “Korean beer?”
“I developed a taste for it in the karaoke bars.”
“You have many sides, Wes. Many secrets.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m more the open book type. Not too many secrets.”
Royal reached out and tapped my wedding band with a forefinger. “I know many married men who are gay.”
Everything got crystal clear real fast. “You think this is a date? Royal, I’m not gay.”
I felt terrible seeing the instant sadness transform Royal’s face. Seeing this sadness—if I was gay—I would have thrown him a mercy fuck, no problem.
“The story of my life,” said Royal. “Always chasing the wrong boy.”
“I wasn’t trying to lead you on.”
“Oh well, now you know more about my lonely life than I ever expected to share.” He took a deep pull of his beer and looked at the bottle with displeasure. “I need something sweet.” He waved to the waitress and said, “Cuba libre, por favor.”
I said, “Sorry, man.”
Royal sighed. “Why did you call me?”
“Because if I don’t do something about the situation I’m in, sooner or later I’m going to be dead.”
“You mean the situation with the crazy old Korean man and his violent family?”
“I need your help.”
“I’m not particularly resourceful that way.”
“You wouldn’t have to do much.”
Royal folded his arms and then said, “Tell me.”
I told him. How I had a plan to kidnap Shin Doko. I’d do it when he was being treated at the clinic. Royal’s part would be minimal but essential. I’d have Manuel create a distraction in the waiting room. When the nurse was called away from Shin, Royal would slip into the room where Shin was being treated. He’d punch him in the arm with a syringe full of sedative. That’s all Royal would have to do. I’d wheel Shin out the back on a gurney.
“Are you going to kill the old man?” asked Royal.
“No. I’m going to kidnap him and bring him to the house where I’m staying. He’s going to be my bargaining chip. Maybe the Doko family will listen when one of their own family is in danger.”
“First. I can’t do it,” said Royal. “I could lose my job and go to jail.”
“No one has to see you give him the shot. If I get caught, it’s all on me. I’ll take the syringe you used on Doko and put it in my pocket. I get caught I’ll tell them I did it.”
“It’s a stupid plan. Someone is going to see you.”
“I’m going to get me a set of nurse’s scrubs. I’ll blend right in. I already scoped out the back of the clinic. I can wheel him right out to my car. I’ll make it easy.”
“They’re really going to kill you?”
“They killed the last five of Soo Jin’s husbands. It took them a while to warm up to the idea of killing me, but they’re definitely going to do it. It’s just a matter of time.”
“I feel I know you well, Wes. I don’t see you being a liar.”
“No, this is the truth.”
“If I do this for you, I’d be putting myself at considerable risk.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“One night of love.”
“What?”
“One night of love. I want one night with you, from sundown to sunrise. You’ll be my lover, the way I imagined it was going to be when I agreed to meet you tonight.”
I realized how desperate I’d become, because for one long moment I tried to imagine myself going through with i
t.
I remembered an episode of Fear Factor, a show where contestants had to face their fears or do disgusting things. I remember one pretty blonde had to eat a raw pig’s rectum. It was a tube of corrugated flesh resembling an attachment for a vacuum cleaner. The hollow tube of flesh made me think of anal sex and how our rectums were hardly the seat of our soul. Seeing that blonde nibbling the pig’s rectum, I knew I’d prevail if I ever went to prison and I was gang raped. I’d remember that the tube of corrugated flesh wasn’t me—that they weren’t raping my soul.
But I wasn’t in prison, and I wasn’t being raped, and I wasn’t going to experience a night of love with Royal.
“Sorry, man,” I said. “I can’t do that. If I was gay I’d definitely date you, but I’m not gay.”
“OK,” said Royal. “Then let’s explore plan B.”
THIRTY-TWO
Yun stared hard at the top of my head and then smacked a hairbrush against the palm of her hand. “It’s not easy, trying to make you look gay.”
I was sitting on a kitchen chair in the middle of the living room as I tried to transform from working stiff straight guy to glammed-up gay boy. The kids and Soo Jin were having a good old time watching my transformation. I’d shaved super close and rubbed some ChapStick on my lips, making them glossy. A brand-new white T-shirt and my tightest jeans didn’t look fey enough—I’d have to add some swish.
Yun swiped at my hair with the brush, trying to give me a tiny pompadour.
“I like you like that,” said Soo Jin, trying not to giggle. “You’re hot.”
Yun smiled. “Yeah, maybe you could show us how you’re going to dance.”
I grimaced. “Wow…I didn’t even think of that. I have a hard enough time dancing with a woman, let alone a guy.”
“Now you’re going to know how it feels when a guy dances with you and sticks that thing against your leg,” said Yun. “I wish I was gonna be there. You’re going to learn the hard way.”
* * *
Last night, back at The Dime, over a second round of Hites and cuba libres, Royal had presented me with his plan B.