Stand Up, Yumi Chung!

by Jessica Kim

  “Fine.” I could use some fresh air, anyway.

  I chuck the drippy black garbage sacks from the kitchen onto the cart.

  Frustrated, I kick the back door open and shove the heavy cart with all my might through the doorway.

  But then I smell something in the air.

  Who’s smoking out here?

  Off in the distance, I see Dad sitting on an overturned crate with his back to me, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

  My stomach sinks. He only smokes when he’s really stressed out.

  Then I notice his body shaking. What could be so funny at a time like this? Has he completely lost it?

  And then I realize he’s not laughing—he’s weeping.

  I gasp. I’ve never seen my dad cry in my whole life.

  He takes a puff from his cigarette like he’s trying to stop his cries from escaping, but they do anyway.

  It destroys me.

  Before he notices, I duck back inside, but I accidentally bump the cart, sending all the bags crashing to the ground.

  Startled, Dad turns around, and our eyes meet.

  Oh no.

  He flings his cigarette and stomps on it to put it out. He wipes his face with his sleeves.

  “S-sorry, I can do this later,” I say, pushing the door back open.

  To my surprise, he waves me over. “Yumi, come here.”

  Uncertain, I make my way to him, averting my gaze to give him privacy.

  I pull another crate next to him.

  Neither of us speak.

  When I wrap my arms around myself to protect against the brisk night air, Dad takes off his jacket and puts it on my shoulders.

  Then, after what feels like an eternity, he says, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” I whisper, fighting back my own tears.

  He lets out a deep breath. “Karaoke stage was terrible idea.”

  It unsettles me to hear him talk like this. Dad’s the guy who makes something from nothing and doesn’t apologize to anyone. The guy who makes me feel safe and secure. Why is he apologizing to me?

  I search for the right words that might restore his confidence. “No, Dad. What are you talking about? It’s not your fault. Not at all. It was only one slow day, that’s all.”

  He blinks his glassy eyes several times. “I thought I was smart to do the original idea, but maybe there is a reason no restaurant has karaoke stage in Koreatown.”

  “Maybe people just haven’t heard about it yet. Maybe tomorrow there’ll be more people,” I offer, desperately trying to reassure him. “We still have time, Dad. We still have until Monday.”

  Dad shakes his head. “No, not enough time. We do not have enough time,” he says quietly. “It’s done.”

  His words leave me hollow. I want to tell him he’s wrong. I want him to come to his senses and be Dad again, but the defeat on his face tells me he’s serious. He is finished.

  “Now you understand why I want you to study hard?”

  “Study?”

  “If you become lawyer or doctor, you will make a lot of money.” He motions to the restaurant behind us. “You will not have to worry about this money stress.”

  He’s told me this a million times before, but today it feels different. It doesn’t feel like just something parents say to nag their kids. It feels raw and true. Like he means it from his bones.

  “I am immigrant. I have no choice to do this hard work. But you.” He touches my cheek. “You can work in an office or hospital and be great success one day. You will work with your mind, not your hands.”

  He looks down.

  “I’m sorry I did not provide with this restaurant, but we will keep working and find new jobs so you can have everything you need to go to college.”

  My heart swells and aches at the same time. Even after he poured fifteen years of his blood, sweat, and tears into Chung’s Barbecue and it’s about to be taken from him, the only thing he’s concerned about is my future.

  “Are we going to move to San Jose so you can work for Uncle?”

  Dad recoils, the light returning to his eyes. “No, I told your mom a hundred times we will never do that.” His voice is indignant. “I will rather scrub the toilet and work five jobs.”

  Okay, he’s back. This is the Dad I know.

  Then he adds, “We must stay here so you can go to Winston.”

  “Dad—”

  “I know you want to go to the other school, but Winston will give you better chance to get into good university. You need the best education. I cannot let you suffer like me.”

  I look up at the twinkling buildings scattered across the downtown skyline, desperately wishing that Dad could understand what comedy means to me.

  Then it occurs to me that this is my chance to tell him.

  After all, that’s all it took for Ginny’s mom to come around.

  “Dad?” I shift, mustering my courage. “I . . . really love comedy,” I blurt out.

  There’s an uncertain moment of silence.

  I try again. “What I mean is, it’s everything to me. When I’m onstage, people actually listen to me. And when I get people to laugh, it’s the best. It makes me feel like a whole different person, and I don’t want to stop. That’s why I did what I did.”

  When Dad starts laughing softly to himself, I don’t know how to react.

  “Daddy understands you.”

  My neck swings. “You do?”

  Not to be mean, but Dad’s pretty much the most unfunny person in the existence of humankind. He doesn’t even get the punch lines of jokes on commercials.

  “I will tell you my secret.” He stops, like he’s not quite sure if he should or not.

  I lean in close. “What?”

  “When I was young, I wanted to be a gasu.”

  He nudges me with his shoulder.

  “You? A singer?” I think about it. “You know, that makes a lot of sense.”

  He’s got a great voice, and he’s pretty comfortable on the stage. Too comfortable. He could live up there, honestly.

  There’s a confessional glint in his eye. “When I was a young man, I wanted to be famous singer.” He laughs out loud. “I was best singer in my school. So popular. Best in my town. I wanted to be the next Elton John. Pop rock star. Cool hair and big sunglasses. That was my dream.” He closes his eyes for a moment as if he’s playing his best highlights reel behind his eyelids.

  “So, what happened?” I ask, suddenly curious about this mysterious side of Dad I never knew.

  “I came to America, and I realize I cannot support my family as a gasu. So I bought this restaurant.” He rests his hand on my shoulder. “You see, sometimes we have to do the practical thing, not the dream thing.”

  I nod. Hearing about the dreams Dad has let go for us sits in my stomach like a sack of sand.

  “Being on the stage is such great feeling. I agree,” Dad says with a smile.

  “And the applause at the end, right?”

  “Yes, best sound.”

  He puts his arm around me and hugs me tight. “No matter what, I want you to know that your mommy and daddy want to give you good things, very best things. Education is great gift, especially in America. Maybe you don’t understand yet, but we are happy to sacrifice for your future. You know that?”

  I nod.

  “You know your mom sold her diamond earrings to pay for your hagwon tuition?”

  “What? She did?” I’m saddled with guilt. “Those were her favorite . . . ”

  “I tell you so you will understand how much she wants best for you. She will give up her best things so you can have best things. Please trust and obey your parents, okay? Talking together is better than sneaky lies.”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  I exhale.

  While I wa
sn’t able to convince him to send me to PAMS, my heart is full knowing that he actually listened to me. I’ve never felt more loved.

  “You and me, not so different, eh?” He laughs. “You are growing up so fast. I am happy that we had this talk.”

  I flash a smile. “So happy you’ll give me my phone and computer back?” I push my cheek against his stubbly cheek like I used to when I was a little kid. “Please?”

  Dad chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to you tomorrow. But you cannot turn it on until after your test is finished.”

  “Of course.”

  CHAPTER 27

  I leave the glistening halls of Winston Academy the same way I always do: with a stomachache.

  That SSAT was a beast of a test.

  I’m not sure how I did, but I know that I gave it all I had, and that makes me feel pretty darn proud of myself.

  With the warm sun shining on my face, I walk through the empty quad and settle onto a shady bench. After pushing my brain to its limit, I want nothing more than to unwind by playing some mind-numbing puzzle games until Yuri comes to pick me up. And now that I have my phone back, I can do just that. Thank goodness!

  My phone feels so good in my hands. I’ll never take my mobile device for granted again for as long as I live, that’s for sure.

  I turn it on, and to my surprise, twelve unread text messages from Felipe and Sienna pop up on my home screen.

  Felipe: U ok?

  Sienna: what happened?

  Sienna: Let’s talk.

  Sienna: You can call me whenevers. Or text. Or facetime.

  Felipe: U hanging in there?

  Felipe: Still haven’t heard from you.

  Felipe: Why weren’t you at camp?

  Sienna: Ur coming to the showcase though, right?

  Felipe: Didn’t see you at the showcase

  Sienna: It was a great show, would have been better with you there

  Felipe: You can’t stay invisible from us forever, you know.

  Sienna: Hello?

  They’re not mad at me?

  A weight slides from my shoulders.

  This whole time, I’d convinced myself that I was dead to them, but judging from these texts, I was wrong. They were just worried about me.

  There’s so much I want to tell them.

  I facetime Felipe first.

  After two rings, his face appears on my screen.

  “H-hello?” Seeing him makes me nervous to talk after all this time, after all that’s happened.

  He smacks his forehead. “Dude, you’re alive. Where the heck have you been?”

  Before I can reply, a familiar voice calls from the background.

  “Hey, is that K—I mean Yumi?”

  There’s a blur as someone wrestles the phone away from Felipe.

  “Sienna?”

  “It is you!”

  “What are you doing at Felipe’s?”

  “We’re practicing for the PAMS audition.” She plants herself on a purple couch. “Enough about us. What on earth have you been up to? We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for forever!” She tugs a bright turquoise feather boa away from her neck.

  “Sorry.” I fidget with my backpack strap. “I was grounded, and my parents took my phone. I only just got it back today.”

  “I figured you were probably on screen restriction.” Sienna rolls her eyes and points her thumb to her side. “Felipe over here thought you were in the witness protection program or got abducted by aliens.”

  “Completely feasible!” he shouts from the other couch.

  I take a deep breath. “Actually, it’s great you’re together, because I have something to say to you both.”

  Felipe and Sienna look into the phone, concerned.

  “What’s up?” Felipe asks.

  “I know it was kind of chaotic the last time I saw you. And. Uh. I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I am for lying to you guys. You know, about being Kay.”

  There’s a beat of silence.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured it out after the boba shop. I don’t know why you wouldn’t admit to it. What was up with that, anyway?” Felipe presses.

  They listen as I come clean. I don’t spare a single detail this time. I even share about how Yuri is moving away, how we’re about to lose the restaurant, and how Mom and Dad aren’t letting me audition for PAMS.

  When I’m done, Felipe’s mouth bunches to the side. “Geez, Yumi. I had no idea you were going through so much.”

  “It all makes sense now,” Sienna says. “I feel awful that you had to deal with all that by yourself.”

  My voice trembles. “No, I’m the one who feels awful. It was totally sucky that I didn’t tell you the truth earlier.”

  Sienna’s lip juts out in sympathy. “Aww, Yumi. We forgive you. Right, Felipe?”

  “Right,” he echoes.

  “Don’t feel awful anymore, okay?” A sly smile crawls across her lips. “Which reminds me of a joke.” She giggles. “What did the chickpea say to his doctor?”

  “Huh?”

  She makes an exaggerated frowny face. “I falafel.” She pauses. “Get it? I feel awful? I falafel?”

  “Don’t quit your day job, Sienna,” Felipe teases, throwing a pillow at her.

  She throws it back at him. “Laugh now, but when I’m a famous comedian, you’re going to have to pay big bucks to hear my jokes.”

  I giggle. “Wouldn’t it be cool if people really paid us for our jokes? We’d be filthy rich!”

  Suddenly, it comes to me. Like a bolt of lightning in the sky.

  “Hey, that’s it. That’s it!” I shout, jumping to my feet.

  “What?”

  All the dots connect in my mind, and a constellation emerges. “We could tell jokes! To raise money for my family’s restaurant!”

  “Whaaaaaat?” Sienna tugs at the ends of her feather boa.

  “But where? And how?” Felipe’s brows knot together.

  I’m so psyched, I start pacing back and forth. “We could do a show at our restaurant! Like an open-mic night. Tell jokes or sing or whatever. Maybe we can ask for donations or something. We already have a stage and microphone there. Top-of-the-line sound system, actually.”

  “Oh! I’ve always wanted to perform at an open-mic night!” Sienna starts flapping the ends of her boa with excitement. “But instead of asking for donations, you should do a cover charge to enter, like they do at those charity things my parents go to.”

  “Yes, great idea!” The more I think about it, the more it sounds doable. “The cover charge plus whatever money we earn by selling food and drinks from the regular menu ought to bring in tons of money!”

  “Dude, you’re going to make bank,” Felipe says, nodding thoughtfully. “Whenever we eat Korean barbecue, we go to town. Love that stuff. Especially kalbi, that’s my jam. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.”

  “We’re going to save the restaurant! We’re going to save the restaurant!” Sienna sings, her frizzy hair bouncing erratically as she shimmies around Felipe’s living room.

  “So, who is going to come?” Felipe asks.

  “I don’t know. I suppose I could reach out to my friends and family,” I say.

  “Don’t you need more people? Maybe you can invite some kids from camp, too.” He scrolls through his phone. “I have some of their numbers, and I’m sure they’d want to help out.”

  “You know what’d be cool? If you could post a flyer on the Haha Club social media account and tag everyone we know!” Sienna suggests.

  “Yeah, that’d be the fastest way to spread the word. You should ask Jasmine Jasper for permission to do that,” Felipe says.

  My tummy flips over at the mention of her name.

  “What’s wrong?” Felipe asks.

 
“Well, it’s just that I haven’t spoken to Jasmine since the day of the showcase dress rehearsal. It’s not like I can just waltz into the Haha Club and start asking her for favors.”

  “It’ll give you a chance to talk things over with her,” Felipe points out.

  “Yeah, it would be great to have some closure. For both of you,” Sienna adds.

  My fists ball up with anxiety. “But I’m not even sure if she hates me or not . . .”

  Sienna shrugs. “I guess you won’t know unless you try.”

  Felipe nods in agreement.

  I mull it over. What is holding me back from trying to patch things up with Jasmine? What’s the worst that can happen? If I show up and she’s unwilling to talk to me, at least I’ll know that I tried my best to make things better instead of being a coward and avoiding her for the rest of my life. Deep down, I know I owe her a one-on-one apology and explanation, anyway. I shouldn’t let my fear stop me from doing the right thing.

  “I’ll call you guys back in a bit,” I tell my friends.

  There’s something I need to take care of.

  * * *

  • • •

  When Yuri drops me off at the Haha Club, I’m bubbling with nerves. The place feels like an empty cave without all the campers. I poke my head inside and spot Jasmine back in the sound booth, fiddling with the equipment.

  “Um. Excuse me,” I say in a near whisper, approaching her.

  She lifts her head up from the dials and knobs on the soundboard, surprised. “Well, hello there, Yumi.”

  Friendly tone of voice, big smile. No obvious indications that she despises my presence. So far, so good.

  I take a step closer.

  “What brings you here?” she asks me.

  My heartbeat speeds in my chest.

  “Er, well, first of all, I wanted to come . . . to . . . um . . . apologize.”

  I bite my lip.

  “I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for lying to you.”

  Jasmine cocks her head to side, like she’s trying to understand. “I forgive you, Yumi, but I still don’t quite understand why you didn’t just tell me that you weren’t Kay from the beginning. Why’d you drag it out for so long?”