by Jack Bunker
We settled on a time. Five o’clock this evening.
I was going to have to move fast.
* * *
I told Yun and Soo Jin, “We’re going to have to go shopping for a wedding dress.”
* * *
Jules’s backyard was being warmed by the sun as the kids played fetch with Jamjari. The rest of us were sitting around a glass patio table. All except Mary—she was back in bed, probably wondering when this wave of invaders would recede.
I’d been on the phone all morning spreading the word about today’s wedding and handing out invites: Manuel and the guys at the car wash, Royal, Kwan, Min Jee, and Ms. Tam. I told Ms. Tam to spread the word with the regulars at the Saja Room and let them know they were all invited. Soo Jin called her friends at the dumpling shop and the few remaining members of the Nang family.
Yun’s calls were going to be the hardest—inviting the Doko clan. Before she got started I asked her if she’d mind if I called Shin myself.
“Only if you put it on speaker,” she said.
“Good idea,” said Jules. “I want to hear that motherfucker squirm.”
I put the phone in the middle of the table. Shin’s voice sounded harsh when he picked up and answered in Korean, “Yoboseyo.”
“Shin. It’s me, Wes.”
There was a pause, then: “What is it you want?”
“I’m driving a nail through this blood feud,” I said. “I asked you to end this of your own free will. You wouldn’t or you couldn’t.”
“I have nothing to say to a dead man.”
“You’ve terrorized my family long enough. Dude, I’m going to put your head in the Mixmaster.”
“Look at your hands,” said Shin.
I looked at my hands; they were clean enough.
“You have the hands of a peasant,” said Shin. “You wash cars. You’re a nobody—mee-cheen-nom.”
Jules leaned toward the phone. “Hey, fuck you, Shin.”
I waved Jules to quiet down.
“Who was that?” asked Shin.
“It was nothing,” I said. “As far as me being a mee-cheen-nom, whatever that is, so be it. I barely made it through high school. I’m not much smarter than the next guy, which is fine with me. But I pay my own way, and I don’t fuck people over.”
Jules gave me a look and whispered, “That’s the best you can do for a comeback? Let me talk to the fucking snake.”
I put up a hand to silence Jules and said into the phone, “I have a reason for this call. I have a function I’d like you to attend at the Wilshire Christian Church. I chose the Wilshire because I know you go there every Sunday. I’m inviting you to a wedding. Five o’clock. Don’t bother with a present.”
Jules leaned close and said with a smile, “Your presence is your present, motherfucker.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Yun. “Do you think he’ll come?”
“He’ll be there,” said Yun. “With five bodyguards.”
I put my phone in my pocket. “Shin wouldn’t shoot up a church, would he?”
“Up until ‘I do’ anything could happen,” said Yun.
* * *
We said our good-byes to Jules and Mary and told them we’d see them at the ceremony. I was still afraid of heading back to Yun’s so we booked a room for one night at the Ramada Wilshire, a short distance from the church. We were going to need a base for all the primping and prodding that would be going on.
By two o’clock, through a combination of luck and under-the-table cash payments, we had all the documents we needed. I peeled off in one direction and the women in another. At first I thought of renting a tuxedo but decided it would be a waste of money. It would be smarter buying a new suit. I picked one off the rack at the Target in West Hollywood and was in and out of the door in twenty minutes, loaded down with new shoes, socks, a dress shirt, tie, and belt. When I got back to the hotel room Yun and Soo Jin and the kids were still out.
I sacked out on the hotel bed, exhausted. It had been a long time since I pulled an all-nighter. I would have drifted off to sleep if my phone hadn’t buzzed. I picked it up and heard Royal’s voice.
“Wes,” he said. “I got your message. You sounded so excited.”
“Listen, I know this is short notice,” I said. “But I have a feeling you have a healthy respect for the dramatic.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Are you free this evening, say five o’clock?”
“I’m free.”
“Do you have a clean suit?”
“Of course I have a clean suit.”
“How would you like to be best man at a wedding?”
“Oh, dear,” said Royal. “Tell me more.”
* * *
I sat across from Soo Jin in a small antechamber outside the entrance to the wedding chapel. I wasn’t one for churches. As soon as I was old enough to assert my own power—eight years old—I stopped going. Even so, it was a pleasant room to hide away in. The walls of the antechamber were high-grade stucco, with dark-mahogany baseboards and crown molding. The benches we sat on were made of the same polished wood. On the wall was a crudely carved and painted Jesus on the cross; it looked like something found in a barn in Mexico. Even though I wasn’t religious, I would have liked to have hung it in my own home—it was an honest piece of work.
Soo Jin looked beautiful in a white wedding dress a lot more fancy than the one she wore when she married me in Ms. Tam’s apartment. It cost more than a thousand bucks, but it was worth it. My wallet had taken a real hit the last couple of days. If I succeeded every dime would be well spent. If I failed we wouldn’t have much capital to keep the fight going.
I smiled at Soo Jin. “You make a beautiful bride.”
“I don’t want to be a bride anymore.”
“Lots of twists and turns. Maybe too many.”
“I was never divorced before,” said Soo Jin.
I thought of her five husbands who had been murdered by the Dokos. I bet all five wish they’d had a chance to file.
I got up and opened the door a crack. There were still some stragglers filing in. I recognized Ramon from the car wash and a few regulars from the Saja Room.
I sat back down. Soo Jin’s hands were smoothing the dress where it lay over her thighs, over and over again.
“Don’t be nervous,” I said.
“I can’t help it.”
“Your life is going to change in a good way,” I said.
“I hope so.”
I figured I should try to distract her. “What would you do if you could do anything?”
“I don’t want much,” said Soo Jin. “I liked making dumplings. Maybe I can get my job back after our baby is born.”
It was strange, hearing the words our baby.
I said, “You’ve been good with Mi-Cha and Tae-Yong.”
Soo Jin smiled but didn’t say anything.
“I think they love you a lot,” I said.
“That’s good,” said Soo Jin. “It will make everything easier.”
There was a knock at the door.
I said, “Come in.”
The door opened, and an usher from the church poked his head inside. Mi-Cha was beside him, dressed as a flower girl. “You can come out now,” said the usher. “All the guests have been seated. When you hear the music cue—the wedding march—we’ll open the door and you’ll give Mi-Cha a minute, and then you’ll follow down the aisle.”
Soo Jin and I stood up. Soo Jin couldn’t be any more nervous than me—I definitely had the butterflies. I had a lot of friends on the other side of the door, and a lot of enemies, too. I wondered if the wedding march would have the opposite effect than intended—instead of commencing a wedding it would be like ringing the bell at a prizefight. I had the .38 Special tucked in my belt, behind my back and under my jacket. Carrying a pistol under any circumstances felt strange—it felt doubly strange packing iron in a church. When Jules heard I was leaving my sawed-off behind, he asked if he co
uld bring it along, just in case. I think he was playing out a fantasy in his mind, but I gave it to him anyway. He’d showed me a box that had held long-stemmed roses—the perfect size for carrying the shotgun. I agreed with him that it wouldn’t raise any eyebrows while he was sitting in a pew at a wedding.
I looked over at Soo Jin. Maybe it was my imagination, but she looked more mature and womanly than when I’d first met her a few weeks ago. Part of me loved her a lot.
I took Soo Jin by the hand. “You ready for this?”
“I hope my family understands,” said Soo Jin.
“If they don’t, that’s their problem.”
Soo Jin smiled. The smile turned into a grimace of panic when we heard the opening bars of “Bridal Chorus.”
I squeezed her hand. “You can do this.”
The chapel door slowly swung open, and Mi-Cha began her measured walk down the aisle.
Soo Jin and I took a step closer and saw that the chapel was packed; at first it was a blur of people.
One person stood out.
At the end of the aisle, standing on the altar, was Yun, Soo Jin’s bride. Thank God that California allowed gays to marry—even if they were heterosexual. Yun looked gorgeous in a scoop-necked wedding dress tricked out in lace and satin. Yun caught my eye and gave me a radiant smile. For a second I felt a pang and wished I was up there on the altar exchanging wedding vows with her, instead of Soo Jin.
Royal stood next to Yun as her best man. He was dressed in a green sharkskin suit and was beaming a smile at me. I’d have to thank him later. It was his impending gay marriage to Walter that had given me the idea that Soo Jin and Yun should get hitched. With them being married, the idiotic three-hundred-year-old blood feud would come to a screeching halt. If the Doko and Nang families kept it up they’d be killing themselves. It would be like punching yourself in the face.
I took Soo Jin by the arm and slowly walked down the aisle, glancing from side to side. Manuel, dressed in a sharp-looking suit, flashed me a gang sign. Jules gave me a nod and then pointed at the flower box next to him on the pew. I saw Ms. Tam and Kwan and lots of familiar faces and some I’d never seen. I figured the ones wearing heavy scowls were Doko family members, here as witnesses rather than celebrants.
Halfway down the aisle I saw Shin looking over his shoulder at me. The motherfucker was sitting in the front row, flanked by bodyguards. He looked like he wanted to rip me apart with his teeth. Up until the last moment, Shin must have thought I was the one who was going to marry Yun. Maybe he didn’t like the thought, but my marrying Yun would signal I was ready to turn my back on Soo Jin and our son. But seeing Soo Jin in a wedding dress—walking toward the altar to exchange vows with Yun—was evidently blowing Shin’s mind. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could see spittle at the corner of his mouth.
The priest standing next to Yun was Asian, probably Korean. He looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to be done and gone.
I stopped at the end of the aisle. Soo Jin squeezed my hand and whispered, “I’m frightened.”
I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll do fine. Don’t worry.”
The priest took a deep breath and said, “We are gathered together on this beautiful afternoon to share a deeply meaningful experience with Yun and Soo Jin as they exchange vows of their everlasting love.”
A murmur went through the crowd.
The priest looked at me and said, “Who gives this woman to be married to this woman?”
“I do,” I said.
Like a dad giving his daughter away, I placed Soo Jin’s hand in Yun’s. With my back to the people in the pews, I mouthed the words I love you to Yun. That got another smile out of her.
I took my place in the front row, on the other side of the aisle from Shin, next to Min Jee and the kids. I leaned over and said to Mi-Cha, “Your mommy is beautiful, isn’t she.”
“They’re both beautiful,” said Mi-Cha.
It was true. Yun was a force of nature, and Soo Jin looked like she had floated down from the spirit world.
The priest grimly plowed forward: “As Yun and Soo Jin take their vows today in holy matrimony, we are privileged to witness the joyous love of a new union uniting the Doko and Nang families.”
I looked over at Shin when I heard this. He was looking straight ahead, his fists clenched on his knees. If Shin was a bottle rocket his fuse was lit and racing, throwing off sparks.
I saw the priest look down at Shin. It was clear the imminent explosion wasn’t lost on him. “Much as the world looks forward to each new season of the year, Yun and Soo Jin look forward with joy to each season of their marriage,” said the priest, looking nervous. “Yun and Soo Jin, by placing yourself in God’s hands, your love for each other will grow deeper with every passing day. Even so, it’s important to remember that to truly love and cherish another person you must be willing to embrace their strong points and their weak points, with equal measures of understanding and respect.”
Shin jumped to his feet. The bodyguards stood up with Shin. I noticed the tall Korean looking back at me, still giving me the sneer.
My hand went under my coat, to the pistol in my belt, but I didn’t draw.
Shin turned toward the people filling the pews and shouted, “The Doko family does not accept this union!”
Royal frowned and said to Shin, “Shame on you.”
Lots of people were on their feet now; some looked ready to fight, others ready to flee.
Shin lurched toward Yun, reaching out to grab her hand. Yun took a step back, and Shin went flying into a pedestal topped with flowers, sending it crashing to the floor. Shin’s bodyguards flowed onto the altar to retrieve their boss. The priest darted behind Soo Jin and Yun, looking like he wanted to be a million miles away.
I stood up and walked over to stand in front of Yun and Soo Jin. By that time, Shin was back on his feet. He looked a mess, with water from the vase dripping down his face.
I pointed a finger at him. “Get back in your seat. You don’t decide what goes on here.”
For a second it looked like I was going to be charged by Shin and his bodyguards. Royal came and stood by my side. I looked behind me and saw Yun take Soo Jin by the hand.
Shin noticed, and I could see the air deflate out of him. He wasn’t stupid. He knew when he held a losing hand.
Shin turned and walked slowly down the aisle, followed by his bodyguards. Several others left with him, probably Dokos sympathetic to Shin’s humiliation. The tall Korean put a comforting hand on Shin’s shoulder, and the old man angrily shrugged it away.
The priest still hid behind Soo Jin and Yun.
I caught his eye and said, “You want to get this thing back on the rails?”
FORTY-SIX
The first couple of times Mi-Cha and I made pancakes, it had been a real mess. Water dripping down cabinets, pancake batter on our shoes, both of us gritty with flour. After a half dozen attempts we were getting the hang of it. We’d start the bacon sizzling and begin round after round of blueberry pancakes, heaping them on a platter in the oven to keep them warm, until we had enough to serve the whole family at once. Someone at school had told Mi-Cha about chocolate chip pancakes, but I was holding the line against that abomination.
I handed the ladle to Mi-Cha and said, “Your turn.”
She concentrated hard as she held the ladle over the frying pan and poured four perfect pancakes.
“You are good,” I said.
Yun came in from behind and gave me a hug. “When are you going to make them Korean style?”
“What would that be?”
“Mung bean flour with scallions and minced garlic.”
“Breakfast?”
“I’ll make them tonight,” said Yun. “You’ll love them.”
It had been roughly twenty months since Yun and Soo Jin married. During that time I’d learned a lot about women. Half the battle was not trying to be right all the time. Instead I practiced the art of keeping my mouth shut and letting l
ife flow over me, like I was an aerodynamic design undergoing testing. I’d only speak once I had a clear idea what it was I wanted to say. It was working for me.
After Shin had stomped out of the church we’d gotten on with the wedding. There had been some grumbling from the pews but no more outbursts. After a few more minutes of platitudes from the priest, Royal presented the gold wedding bands to Yun and Soo Jin, and they placed the bands on their ring fingers.
Life seemed to hang in the balance for a moment—then they shared a chaste kiss. Half the crowd cheered, and the other half sat on their hands.
After the ceremony Ms. Tam had invited all of us back to the Saja Room to celebrate the wedding. Maybe she was being bold and magnanimous; maybe she was trying to recoup lost business. Either way, the Hite and soju were flowing. We all sang, even Soo Jin. She surprised me with a tender rendition of “Be My Baby” delivered in either my direction or Yun’s—it was hard to tell, since I had my arm around Yun’s waist and her chin was on my shoulder.
On one of my trips back from the bathroom, Ms. Tam was waiting for me in the narrow corridor. She blocked my way and said, “I got a call from one of the Dokos. He told me Shin was done. The feud is over for good.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be, without hearing it from Shin himself.”
“What if I don’t want it to end?”
Ms. Tam looked at me like I was crazy.
“No, really,” I said. “What if I want to use this marriage to dismantle the Dokos from the inside? I could do it. I got this far. They won’t know who their allies are—it will be family member against family member. If I come out swinging the Dokos won’t even be Korean when I’m done—they’ll be Norwegian.”
Ms. Tam took a step back. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, I would,” I said. “If Shin ever fucks with my family again, I’ll make sure his last years on earth are a living hell. Dokos will be dropping like flies. You tell him that.”
Ms. Tam frowned, creasing her makeup. “I’ll make sure he knows.”