by Pete Hautman
A few seconds later, Roni heard Brian’s voice from the other side of the house.
“Roni! Help! Come quick!”
When Billy and Brian took off running, Billy had seemed to understand immediately that Lance Doblemun was a threat, and that they couldn’t afford to let him catch either of them.
“Follow me,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ve got an idea.”
It was almost dark, that time of night when the color leaves the world and the shadows get confusing. Billy was running flat-out—it was all Brian could do to keep up with him. He had to trust that Billy knew the territory—it was so dark it was hard to see where they were going. They ran through the neighbor’s backyard, jumped a low fence, and tore down the alley behind the houses. Lance was on their tail, not forty feet behind them. For an old guy, he was fast.
Billy made a hard right turn through an open gate. He zigged around a bush, then zagged around a window well on the side of a house. Brian wasn’t sure, but it seemed like they were running in a circle and were now heading back to Billy’s. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Lance was only about ten feet behind them. He could hear the man’s ragged breathing.
“Faster,” he yelled.
Billy put on a burst of speed across a yard that looked to Brian like it ended at a six-foot-tall fence. Brian sensed that Lance was a millisecond away from grabbing him when he heard a strangled squawk, followed by the thump of a body hitting the earth.
Billy and Brian skidded to a stop just before hitting the fence. Behind them, Lance Doblemun was writhing on the ground, clutching his throat and making noises that sounded like aak and ulg.
Brian immediately saw what had happened. Lance Doblemun had been clotheslined. Literally. Billy had led them racing across his backyard in the near-darkness, knowing that a clothesline was stretched across it, and knowing that the line was just high enough for him and Brian to run beneath. In other words, at the exact height of Lance Doblemun’s neck.
“Kuh. Uh. Erk!” Lance seemed to be saying, his eyes rolling.
Horrified, Brian wondered if Lance Doblemun was dying. Could he have crushed his windpipe?
Billy was pulling the clothesline down. “Help me,” he said. “I don’t want to take any chances with him.”
Brian had once watched a rodeo on TV, and what he was seeing reminded him of the calf-roping event where the cowboys lassoed the calves and tied them up. Billy whipped the cord around Lance’s ankles, and tied it.
Lance Doblemun, realizing what was happening, tried to sit up and grab Billy. Brian shouted to Roni for help, then ran behind Lance and grabbed a hank of his hair. He pulled back on it as hard as he could. Lance let out a yell and reached back, trying to grab Brian.
“Sit on him,” Billy yelled, still wrestling with Lance’s feet.
Brian threw himself across Lance Doblemun’s chest. The man twisted and turned beneath him, trying to buck him off. For a second, Brian thought that he and Billy might be able to control him—but then he felt Lance Doblemun’s fingers wrap around his throat and start to squeeze.
30
kyung-soon
Roni ran around the house toward the sound of Brian’s voice. She found the three of them—Lance, Brian, and Billy—rolling on the ground fighting. She stopped, trying to make sense of the tangle of arms and legs. Billy was hanging on to Lance’s legs. Brian was on top of his chest, but the man had his hands locked around Brian’s throat.
Without thinking, Roni threw herself onto the pile. She felt her knee sink into Lance’s gut and heard the whuff of air exploding from his lungs. His hands released Brian’s neck. Brian fell backward, and Lance Doblemun began making a new sound—the heeek heeek heeek of someone who had the wind knocked out of him.
“Here,” Billy said. He handed her the clothesline. Roni thought for a split second, then threw the end of the clothesline out across the yard. She and Billy quickly rolled the gasping man over the stretched-out cord so that it wrapped several times around his body, pinning his arms to his sides. Brian, seeing what they were doing, had pulled down a second clothesline. A few seconds later, Lance was wrapped up like a fly in a spider’s web.
“Ha,” said Billy, climbing to his feet. “Spider-Man couldn’t have done better.”
“Dak-Ho?” A new voice came from the side of the house. A small, dark-haired woman stepped into the backyard. “Dak-Ho? Who are these people? And what are you—oh!” She stopped, seeing the man on the ground. For about three seconds, nobody moved or said anything.
Billy was the first to speak.
“Hi, Mom,” he said.
Brian recognized her at once. This was the same woman who had warned him about skateboarding down the hill in Bloodwater. But this time he knew, deep in his heart, without a trace of doubt, that he was looking at the woman who had given birth to him.
She did not speak. Her eyes were fixed on the man on the ground. Lance Doblemun, now helpless, glared back at her, his jaw pulsing.
Billy said to Brian, “This is our mom, Kyung-Soon.”
The woman’s eyes went to Brian, and then Roni, then back to Lance Doblemun.
“This man, he is very dangerous,” she said.
“You know him?” Billy said.
Kyung-Soon sat down on the back steps, looking small and frightened. She began to rock back and forth, wringing her hands.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
Kyung-Soon shook her head. Looking from Billy to Brian, she said, “There are things I must tell you. Both of you.”
Roni, looking around nervously, said, “What about Mrs. Doblemun?”
As she spoke, Louella Doblemun came limping around the corner of the house, wincing with pain every time she put weight on her right foot. When she saw Lance lying on the ground, she let out a screech.
“What have you done to my son?” She hobbled quickly to him and sank to her knees. “Lance, baby, what have they done to you?”
“Just untie me,” he said.
Mrs. Doblemun started to tug at the ropes. Kyung-Soon’s voice rang out, sharp and clear and much louder than anyone expected.
“Do not untie him.”
Mrs. Doblemun looked at Kyung-Soon, startled.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I am Kyung-Soon Kim. I am mother to these boys, and you will listen to me. All of you.”
“I’m not listening to anybody until you untie my son!”
“Yes, you will—if you ever want to know what really happened to Vera Doblemun and your grandson Bryce.”
That had an effect on Mrs. Doblemun. “What do you know?” she asked.
“I know everything,” said Kyung-Soon.
31
blood and tea
“This had better be good,” said Mrs. Doblemun.
Kyung-Soon shook her head. “It is not good. Nothing about it is good.” She gave Lance a long, measuring look, then said to Billy, “Is he well tied?”
“I think so,” Billy said.
Kyung-Soon stood up. “Then let us go inside where we do not have to look at him.” To Mrs. Doblemun, she said, “If you wish to know the truth about my son—and yours—you will come inside and listen.”
Mrs. Doblemun slowly stood up.
“You can’t just leave me here!” Lance said.
Just then, Darwin appeared, rubbing his head and looking a bit discombobulated. “What’s going on?” he said. “What happened?” Seeing Mrs. Doblemun, he stopped and backed up a step. She scowled at him.
Roni said, “Darwin, would you stay out here and keep an eye on him?” She pointed at Lance.
“Huh?”
“Just for a few minutes, while we go inside and talk?”
After pointing out the time, and the long drive ahead of them, Darwin agreed, grudgingly, and settled into the chaise longue by the back door.
As they trooped into the house, Roni was already writing her story in her head, thinking she might be able to sell it to The New York Times, or failing that, the Bloodwa
ter Clarion. What a story! Korean twins separated at birth and now reunited halfway around the world, a purse-swinging grandmother, a hundred-thousand-dollar reward, and an evil adoptive father trussed up like lunch for a giant spider.
As soon as they got inside, Kyung-Soon put a pot of water on for tea. “Large news should always have tea,” she explained, placing a large teapot on the kitchen table where Roni, Billy, and Brian were sitting.
Mrs. Doblemun limped into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, positioning herself so she could see into the kitchen through the doorway. “I think I need a doctor,” she said. Her ankle was swelling visibly. “That child—” She glared at Roni. “That child attacked me with a skateboard.”
Kyung-Soon took a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and put it on Mrs. Doblemun’s injured ankle. “Time for the doctor later,” she said. She poured hot water into the teapot. “Time now to tell my story. My story of two sons, and my father, and my family’s shame.”
She bowed her head as if in prayer. Then she started to talk again in her low, slow voice. “I was very young when I became pregnant, only a girl, too young to know it could even happen. I had two boys. Twins. My father was very angry. My mother cried and cried. But I was happy. I had two beautiful sons. Then one night my babies disappeared. My father had taken them away. Later, I found out that he had split them up. He thought twins could not find a good home together, because who would want to adopt two children at once? One boy he left on the steps of the police station in Taegu City. The other he left at a hospital in Kyongsan. They ended up being sent to the same orphanage, but no one there knew they were brothers. A few months later, they flew to America, both on the same airplane, to live with different families here in Minnesota.”
She poured the tea into five small ceramic tea bowls. “I screamed, I cried, I was furious at my father. I swore that one day I would find my children. I worked as hard as I could and saved money, hiding it from my father. I learned English. Three years later, I came to America. I hired a private detective, like the famous Sherlock Holmes.”
Roni and Brian looked at each other.
“I wanted to know, at least, that they were okay,” Kyung-Soon continued. “I knew I could never have them back, because the laws in this country would never allow it, but I had to know that they were with good families. Safe. Happy. My twin boys.
“After many months and much money, the detective found them, both in Minnesota.” She looked at Brian. “You were living in a place called Cannon Falls, with good parents. I could see that they loved you. I was sad that I could not hold you in my arms, but you were safe and happy.”
Brian was glad to hear that Kyung-Soon had liked the Samuelses.
“I had a dog,” he said.
“Yes, I saw the dog. I left a Korean coin in his doghouse, for luck. Did you find it?”
“Yes! I still have it. A ten won piece. My dad says—ouch!” Roni had kicked him under the table. She wanted him to shut up, but it was his story, too. He kicked her back.
Kyung-Soon continued. “Different story with Dak-Ho. Billy. They called him Bryce. He was with the Doblemuns, and they fought. I would see them fighting. They fought every day, and the child cried in the night. I worried. I kept watch. I did not know what else to do.
“At last I had found them, two small boys of my own heart, but one was living in a house of unhappiness. One night I was watching. I crept up to the house, very quiet, and looked in the window. Dak-Ho was sitting with his back to me, watching the television.
“The woman was cleaning the table. The man had a bottle of beer in his hand. Suddenly he started yelling. I did not know the words—my English was not so good back then—but he was very angry. I wished my small boy did not live with this loud man.
“I could only see the dark back of his head, Dak-Ho. Very quiet. Not moving. I wished I could see his face. I wished I could touch his hair. I wished I could tell him he was my small boy and my love is as large as the ocean.
“The man yells again. The woman throws a plate at him. He catches it and slams it down on the floor, very hard. Pieces fly. He is also coming apart. His hands fly out. One hits her in the face. She tries to get away, but he grabs her and throws her, and her head hits the edge of the table, and she falls broken to the floor.
“There is much blood.”
Brian looked over at Billy, who was sitting very still, listening. Brian could tell he had never heard this story before.
Kyung-Soon reached over and touched Billy’s hair. “Dak-Ho sat so very quiet. What a good boy he was. I wanted to run in and take him away, to make him safe, but the man walked over and lifted him and carried him up the stairs. A few minutes later he came back down the stairs, and he was alone.
“The woman had not moved. Her eyes were half open, not blinking, staring at her own blood dark on the floor. The man knelt down beside her. He knelt for a long time. I watched from the window, thinking of my small boy in the dark upstairs.
“Suddenly the man stood up. He stepped over the woman. I heard him open the door on the back of the house and go outside. Then I saw Dak-Ho come down the stairs. He went to the woman. His eyes were wide and open. He touched the blood with his little finger. He touched her light hair, so different from his.”
Kyung-Soon began to weep. “I tried the door by the window, but it would not open. Then the man came back inside, and the small boy ran up the stairs. I could do nothing. I waited.
“The man closed the woman’s eyes with his fingers. The eyes stayed closed. That was when I knew that those eyes would never open again.”
A gasp came from the living room. Brian looked to see Mrs. Doblemun sitting up, eyes wide. “You are lying,” she said in a broken voice. “Tell me you are lying.”
Kyung-Soon shook her head and said, “I am sorry. I am sorry for your son. For you. For all of us. Your son is a murderer.”
32
ki-nam
Roni saw Louella Doblemun’s face crumple. The woman, so frightening and formidable half an hour ago, seemed to collapse in on herself. She began to sob. Roni actually felt sorry for her. What could it be like to discover that one’s own son is a murderer?
“Lance Doblemun dug a hole in his backyard, very deep,” said Kyung-Soon. “I watched him. And when he dragged his wife outside and put her in the hole, I climbed into the house through a window and I took Dak-Ho away with me.
“That was ten years ago. I had made friends here in St. Paul. They helped me. But I did not tell what I saw, because I was afraid the police would take Dak-Ho away from me. After a few weeks I went back to the place where Dak-Ho had lived. All that was left was a burnt bottom of house. I knew where the woman was buried, but I was afraid.
“I got a job teaching Korean, and Dak-Ho forgot all about that house of death and sorrow, and he grew tall and strong and happy. I gave him a new name. Billy. Billy Kim.”
“So you never told the police what you saw?” Roni asked.
Kyung-Soon shook her head. “I was afraid if I came forward they would take Dak-Ho. He is not legally my son.”
“But he is your son,” Roni said.
“No, he’s not.” Louella Doblemun had recovered from her shock and was sitting up on the couch, looking entirely too much like her old self. “Bryce is my grandson. He belongs with his adoptive family.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” said Billy.
Mrs. Doblemun raised one painted eyebrow. “Oh, really? When I call the police, they’ll return you to your rightful parent. Or, since my son may have legal troubles of his own, I will no doubt become your legal guardian.”
Roni said, “You don’t even want Billy—you just want to collect the reward.”
Mrs. Doblemun shrugged. “Since the Kays have been so kind as to offer, I would not turn the money down. Now, come along, Bryce. Help your grandmother out to her car.” She tried to stand, but gasped in pain when she tried to put weight on her ankle. She fell back onto the couch.
“My
son is going nowhere with you,” said Kyung-Soon. “Neither of them.”
“The authorities may disagree with you,” Mrs. Doblemun said. “I plan to collect both the boy and the reward.”
“I’m confused all over again,” Billy said. “What reward? Who are the Kays?”
“That does it,” said Brian, pushing back his chair. He went to the phone by the refrigerator and dialed a number.
“Who are you calling?” Kyung-Soon asked.
“My other mother,” Brian said.
Brian, Roni, and Kyung-Soon all gathered around the speakerphone in the kitchen and talked to Brian’s mom, giving her the whole story. Even Louella Doblemun got into the act, screeching from her perch on the couch that no matter what her son had done, Bryce was her legal grandson, and that her poor son Lance was probably innocent anyway, and that she had a lawyer who would make shredded wheat out of anyone who tried to stop her.
Brian imagined his mother rolling her eyes and holding the phone away from her ear.
Although she said it was against her better judgment, Mrs. Bain agreed with Kyung-Soon’s request not to call the St. Paul police immediately—at least not until she could get there to assess the situation. She also persuaded Louella Doblemun to sit tight for the time being. Not that Mrs. Doblemun had any choice—her ankle had swollen to the size of a cantaloupe. Brian’s mom promised to straighten everything out once she got there. She also informed Brian that he should prepare himself to be grounded for all eternity.
“I’ll be there in about forty minutes,” she said, and hung up.