by Jessica Kim
The silence radiates through the room, and it’s suddenly very warm.
“I guess at the heart of it, I was afraid that you’d be disappointed. Maybe it was easier for me to go along with things than stand up to set things straight,” I say meekly.
Guilt burns like hot sauce on my insides.
“But you taught me that I have to let go of my fears and keep trying, until I have watermelon Jelly Bellies.” I stretch my arms open. “So here I am.”
The laugh lines around her eyes deepen. “Much respect.”
“Which brings me to the other reason I’m here.”
She listens intently as I tell her all about my idea to save my family’s restaurant.
“I wanted to ask if I you’d be willing to let me post a flyer about our open-mic fund-raiser on the Haha Club website and social media accounts so I can spread the word to all the campers. Maybe they can come out with their families to support us.”
She takes a moment to think about it. “I’ll do you one better.”
Pulling out her phone, she starts tapping through her contacts. “Not only can I post it on the Haha Club, I can also promote it on my local comedy writers group Listserv. Oh, and I have a friend who runs an after-school music program nearby. I can get in touch with her, too.” Jasmine is already thumb texting. “Her students are always looking to perform at open mics.”
“But do you think they’ll come? Even though they don’t know me or my family?”
“Are you joking? Of course! Artists are the biggest backers of small businesses. We know what it’s like to hustle. If people get wind that your restaurant is in danger of closing, they’ll come out for sure.”
A spark of hope rises from within me.
Now I just have to get Mom and Dad on board.
CHAPTER 28
I run the whole way to the restaurant, but it feels more like I’m flying.
“Mom! Dad!” I grab them each by the hand and practically drag them into the back office. “Come quick!”
I wiggle the mouse and pull up the Haha Club website.
“What’s going on?” Mom asks as she dries her hands on her apron. “Did they email SSAT exam results?”
“No, but I think I may have figured out how to save the restaurant!” I click to the events page. “We can invite everyone we know to come out for an open-mic fund-raiser show at the restaurant tonight.”
“What?” My parents look at me like I’m an alien.
“If people knew that Chung’s Barbecue might have to close its doors forever, they would come to support us. We just have to spread the word.”
“But how can we contact them?” Dad checks his watch. “Dinner is in five hours.”
I turn their attention back to the computer. “With this. It’s called a hashtag.” I do a quick demonstration of how hashtags and social media work.
“I don’t know if this is good idea,” Mom says, reserving her judgment. “I don’t know what kind of people are going to come from internet.”
“It’s not like I’m posting it to Craigslist, Mom. Jasmine, the comedy teacher at the camp, said she’s willing to promote our event on the Haha Club website and on her vlog. She’s got thousands of subscribers. She also said she can invite all her comedian and writer friends in the area. They’re all about local businesses staying in the neighborhood.”
Mom’s forehead wrinkles in surprise. “She said she will help us, after everything that happened?”
I nod. “Yup. Luckily, she really believes in second chances.”
“Very wise,” Dad says.
Mom stares at the computer screen, puzzled. “You think the people will come? With only few hours’ notice?”
“Only one way to find out.”
I twirl my chair to face Dad. “What do you think? We can collect a cover charge and sell food and drinks to raise money.”
They still look skeptical.
I push. “Listen, if we want to keep Chung’s Barbecue, we need to make six thousand dollars tonight. We have no other options. Might as well give it a shot, right? We’ve got nothing to lose.”
My parents look at each other, and my dad breaks into a smile. “Okay. Let’s do it! Fighting!”
Mom pulls out her phone. “I will call Manuel and the others to see if they can work tonight.”
Out of nowhere, Dad clears his throat. “Maybe I can sing one or two songs, too? It is still my restaurant.”
I laugh. “Yes, Dad. Of course.”
* * *
• • •
A short while later, Yuri arrives at the restaurant, still dressed in her Starbucks gear.
“So, what’s the emergency? Mom and Dad said something about a show?”
After I explain my vision for the evening, she looks at me strangely, like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“Wow, Yooms, that’s a genius idea.”
I nearly fall out of my chair. Then she asks me, “Tell me, what can I do to help?”
Is my big sister asking little ol’ me for direction for the first time ever?
I pass her my clipboard. “Well, I was thinking, since we don’t have much time before the event, our main priority is publicity.” I flip to the list of all the people we need to invite.
“Can you call everyone here and tell them about our fund-raiser show? I’ll work on posting on all the social media platforms. Even Facebook, for the old people.”
“Got it. Consider it done.” She takes a big breath. “I sure hope this works.”
“We won’t know until we try, right?”
CHAPTER 29
It’s only dusk, and already the atmosphere is buzzing. A steady stream of friends, family, and friends of friends have been arriving since we opened a half hour ago. Yuri and Manuel are in the kitchen cranking out the orders, Dad’s back in his suit working the room, Mom’s busy giving Mrs. Pak and her family a tour of the place, and I’m running around trying to get everyone seated.
“Jasmine, I’m so glad you’re here!” I say when I see her come in.
“Wouldn’t miss this for anything.” She gives me a big hug. “I want you to meet some friends of mine,” she says, introducing me to her former students.
“I really admire what you’re doing here,” says the guy with the goatee. “It’s not easy to survive in this city. It’s cool to see you doing something different with your restaurant.”
The girl with the long braids looks around the dining room, already shrouded in the aroma of smoky grilled meats. “Totally original concept. K-barbecue and open mic. What a fresh way to bring people together. I’m into it.”
“Thanks for coming.” I take them to their table, blushing. “I couldn’t pull this off without all your help, Jasmine.”
“My pleasure, Yumi.” She takes a menu. “Now let me see about this kalbi I keep hearing about. Felipe tells me it’s going to change my world!”
I ask a waiter to take their order and get back to the business of seating more guests. Then I rush into the kitchen to get what I need to set table five.
“How’s it going in here?” I ask.
Yuri grabs a bunch of small porcelain dishes and arranges them onto a platter. “Getting the slam.”
Manuel stirs the pots of soup with one hand and throws in the garnish with the other. “But we’ve got it under control.”
“Nice,” I say, hoisting the platter onto my shoulder. “I’ll deliver this.”
On my way out, Manuel yells, “Proud of you, cipota.”
I’m all smiles. If someone had told me in the beginning of the summer that I’d be calling up everyone I know, from besties to acquaintances to near strangers, to invite them to an event I’m throwing, I’d have laughed in their face.
But here we are.
Balancing the platter, I greet some diners I don’t recognize at tabl
e five. “Hello and welcome to Chung’s Barbecue.” I pass out the banchan. “Is this your first time dining with us?”
“Yes, it is,” says the older gentleman with kind eyes. “Our daughter heard about this place from her comedy camp.”
“At the Haha Club?”
“Yes, that’s right.” He points behind me. “Speak of the devil, there she is. Do you know her?”
I turn my head, and of all people, it’s Kay.
I nod. A tremor of nerves shoots through my body, but I don’t let it stop me. “Pardon,” I say, making my way to her.
“Kay, I’m so glad you could make it!” I call.
To my relief, she recognizes me right away. “Are you kidding? When Sienna and Felipe told me about this, I knew I had to come, too. I missed so much camp because of my dang legs, I thought I’d missed my chance to meet the other kids.”
“You’re in luck. A lot of them are here tonight. I’ll introduce you to everyone after the show.”
“Thanks, that’d be so rad.”
“So, there’s something you should know.” I clear my throat. “I’m not sure if anyone explained to you what happened last week. It’s kind of a complicated story, but basically, I sort of stole your identity and everyone at camp thought I was you. Look, I’m really sorry—”
“Oh yeah, I know,” she says. “Jasmine explained it to us already.”
“I still feel really bad about it, and I hope you can forgive me.”
“No worries.” Her smile is so genuine and sincere that I believe her. “Sounds like it’d make great material for stand-up, actually.”
“You’re probably right.” I smile. “Are you going to perform anything during open mic?”
“I don’t know, I’m feeling kind of nervous. It’ll be a game-time decision.”
“Well, if you decide to, good luck.” I point to her legs. “I’d say break a leg, but it looks like you’ve already gotten to that. Twice.”
We laugh together.
“You’re really funny. We should hang out. Maybe watch some Jasmine Jasper videos and do improv.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
We exchange numbers, promising to keep in touch.
I’m headed back to the kitchen when Mom intercepts me in the hallway.
“Yumi, come here.” She grabs my arm and pulls me into the office.
“What’s up?” I ask impatiently. The place is packed now. “I should get back to help.”
“It will just take a minute.” She digs through her purse and pulls out her gold pendant necklace. “Here, I want you to wear this. For good luck.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
It’s her second-favorite piece of jewelry, after the diamond earrings she sold to pay for my hagwon.
“Mom . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Trust me. When you look your best, you will feel your best.”
Her warm hands encircle me as she fastens it around my neck.
When she sees it on me, she smiles. “It’s big deal to be in the open-mic show. When you go onstage in front of everyone we know, just remember: be calm, don’t slouch back, use loud voice, remember to walk around stage, you are not a plant.”
Wait, where have I heard that before? I halt when the realization hits me. “Mom, have you been spying on me all those nights I practiced my jokes in my room?”
She plays dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mooooom . . .” I smack my forehead. “That was supposed to be private.”
“Not so private if I can hear you from the hallway.” She clucks her tongue. “If you practiced your mathematics as much as your joke, you would have the PhD!”
Normally I’d fume at the invasion of privacy, but for some reason I don’t. She might not understand my passions or agree with all my decisions, but she sees me. As it turns out, she always has.
She tucks my hair behind my ears. “Do a great job tonight.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I hold the pendant delicately between my fingers. “It’s really pretty.”
“Like you.” She turns away. “Be careful not to lose it. It was very expensive.”
I laugh. “I know. I know. I won’t.”
We are interrupted by a series of earsplitting screeches coming from down the hall.
Mom and I run back to the dining area only to find Dad adjusting the volume dials on the sound board. It screeches one more time before he says, “Hello, I am Mr. Chung. Welcome to our restaurant!” into the mic.
I guess he’s eager to start the show. Five minutes ahead of schedule.
“Is everyone having a good time?” he asks.
A cheer rises from the diners.
“Well, I am so happy you can join us on this special night because it is our first time hosting the open mic!”
Mom and I find a seat together in an empty booth toward the back.
“I am very excited.” He scratches the back of his head. “But to tell you truth, I never heard about open mic until my daughter Yumi told me what it is.”
Mom elbows me, and I blush at the mention of my name.
“When she told me that anyone can come up to the stage to share talent, any talent, I said great idea! Life is too short to hide the talent. What do you think?”
Applause breaks out across the room.
“He’s too good at this,” I whisper to Mom, and she nods in agreement.
Dad raises both arms. “That means, ladies and gentlemen, it is time to get show started! Who will be the first performer? Don’t be shy!”
A murmur sweeps through the room followed by an almost eerie silence. Someone coughs, and everyone is looking around, but still no one volunteers.
Then I notice the fear creeping into my dad’s eyes, just like it did on the night of the Grand Reopening. Something in me snaps. I can’t let him go through that again.
Dad jolts a bit when he sees my raised hand.
“Please put hands together for my daughter!” He points me out in the crowd. “Stand up, Yumi Chung!”
The room thunders with applause, and suddenly the nerves set in.
When I get to the stage, I grip the microphone with both hands. “So, I don’t normally do this, but I’m going to share some secret stuff about myself. Stuff I’ve never shared with anyone in this whole world.” My voice wavers into a weird high pitch, and suddenly my confidence falters.
I hesitate.
Do I really have the guts to go through with this?
It’s super personal and kind of embarrassing.
A painfully long pause follows.
But then, out of nowhere, I hear Felipe and Sienna chant, “You can do it!” Clap! “You can do it!” Clap-clap! “We believe in Yumi!”
I let out a laugh.
Then they do it again. And this time, everyone in the restaurant joins in, even Mom and Dad. “You can do it!” Clap! “You can do it!” Clap-clap! “We believe in Yumi!”
Jasmine shouts from the back of the restaurant, “Just keep going!”
“Thanks.” I regain my footing. “So, you could say I’ve had a pretty busy summer. You know, going to tutoring, helping out at the restaurant, leading a double life, stealing someone’s identity—typical summer for an eleven-year-old.”
I look up, and I’m immediately bolstered by the sea of faces from every corner of my life coming together to support me and my family.
“It’s true.” My voice gets a little louder. “I was an identity thief. The Old Me wasn’t cutting it, so I started pretending to be the person I wished I could be. I was convinced that a new haircut or a different name would be all it’d take for me to make friends. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to eat lunch by myself in the bathroom anymore.”
I wait a beat.
“But now that I think about it,
they probably didn’t want to be friends with me because I was the weird kid who ate lunch by herself in the bathroom.”
There’s a wave of laughter.
“So my big sister is a genius. Aced the SATs on her first try before she hit her teens. Yeah, not intimidating at all. Did I mention she’s also gorgeous? My entire life has been one upstage after another, and to be completely honest, it’s hard to hear any advice she has for me. It’s no use. I’ll never be as perfect as her. She hogged up all the good genes. You know what, though? I think I finally got the last word. The other day she asked me to pass her the lip gloss and I handed her a glue stick . . . and I haven’t heard from her since.”
Sienna, who is seated between her mom and dad, bursts into giggles. It almost throws me off to see her with her parents, but I keep going.
“How many of you have immigrant parents? Anyone?”
A bunch of people hoot and holler.
“Well, my parents are typical Asian parents. They aren’t big on giving compliments. It’s a cultural thing. Anyway, the other day we were in the living room hanging out, and I got up to go to bed. I said, ‘Good night, Dad!’ and then without taking his eyes off the TV, he said, ‘I’m proud of you.’ I was shocked! I’ve never heard him say that to me in my whole life. ‘What did you say?’ I asked him. He pointed to the TV, ‘I’m proud of this actor Hugh Jackman. He’s best X-men. That Wolverine, waaaaah, so muhshisuh!’
“After that I started growing out my nails, but he still hasn’t noticed.”
Felipe cracks up the hardest at that one.
“So yeah, as I mentioned, it’s been a big summer for me. A lot of wild stuff happened.”
I take a deep breath.
“But along the way, I learned that I don’t need to become the New Me.”
A hush falls over the room.
“Instead, I need to be comfortable being the True Me.”
I lock eyes with Mrs. Pak, and she smiles back at me.
“See, I used to let my fear of failure hold me back. From being funny, from putting myself out there in friendships, from telling my parents what’s in my heart. I kept comparing myself to other people and trying to be someone I’m not.”