The headlights of a car blinded Soong momentarily. “I… I … I worried. You pregnant?”
“Not that it’s your business, and I’m not trying to be rude, but yes, I am.”
Soong sighed. “You, you, how you take care?”
“Are you kidding? Like half of the girls that work here are single mothers. They manage.”
Crystal’s curtness surprised Soong. When she’d first met the girl, she was certainly lewd and boisterous, in fact very silly. Crystal seemed very serious now. “By yourself?”
Crystal shook her head. “This isn’t like the Middle Ages. I don’t need a man or a mother-in-law. God, lady, you make me want to smoke a cigarette. Which I don’t do, by the way. Big surprise, the slut Crystal believes in prenatal care. Listen, I have to go on. What do you want?”
Soong felt completely powerless. She could not talk to this woman like this. Besides, Crystal was the one with power. She had the unborn child, and like Chung Yun said, it was hers. As much as she wanted to reach her hands into this woman’s womb and tear the child away to rescue it, she knew she couldn’t. She needed to approach this differently.
“How’s Brandon?” Crystal asked. The question was posed in a way that showed genuine interest. Soong wanted to give a genuine answer, but it occurred to her that she didn’t really know how Brandon was. According to Won Ju, he was despondent, and if this were true, then the woman standing in front of her was at fault.
“Why you do what you do?”
“You mean, dance?”
“No, you not dance, but why you…Brandon?”
Crystal sighed. “I liked him. I don’t know, he seemed so pure. I guess I felt like I needed some purity in my life.”
“Brandon not good. Why you do?”
Crystal wrung her hands and shook her head. A couple of men across the street whistled at her. She glanced across the street, then held up her middle finger. The catcalls persisted. What did she expect? Soong thought.
“Men,” Crystal said. “I didn’t want to hurt Brandon. I didn’t think I could hurt him. He’s a guy. I thought he’d look back on what we did, how he lost his cherry, and be happy about it. I mean, and I don’t want to sound conceited, but what fifteen-year-old wouldn’t love to have me for their first time and tell their friends about it?”
She was talking a bit too quickly for Soong now. “I don’t understand you.”
“I don’t understand you either.”
“What I do?” She meant the question. She had no real idea what she was trying to accomplish here, and at the same time she knew that she wasn’t accomplishing it.
“You go home. I have to work now.”
“I don’t know what to do. Why I here?”
“I don’t know. But let’s be real. We’re not family. We’re too different. I’m keeping the baby, and, hey, maybe you guys can visit. Tell Brandon, once the kid is born, he can stop by anytime.”
Soong was distracted by a scar on Crystal’s abdomen. She could barely see it at night, but through the teddy, she saw a distinct scar. Crystal suddenly yelled to the men across the street. “Get a fuckin’ life!”
They began to walk away. Soong pointed at the scar. “What happen?”
Crystal looked down and rubbed the scar. “I got hit by a car when I was fourteen.”
Soong clasped her hands together. “Me too! What happen?”
“I guess what happens to everybody who gets hit by a car. I went to the hospital. Surgery. Actually, I almost couldn’t get it because I didn’t have insurance. It kind of fucked up my life.”
“Oh.”
“But I moved here to town. My big move after the accident. You know, Waianae is only like fifty miles away, but it’s farther than that. Anyway, I had to get the hell out of there. Do you know what that’s like? You just gotta go? Listen, I have to get back. Tell Brandon I said, ‘What’s up.’ Bye.”
Crystal walked back through the red curtain. Left standing in the parking lot, Soong turned her head back and forth. She was surrounded by one- and two-story buildings. There was a back street in front of her off the city bus route. She could not tell in what direction the mountains or ocean were. She knew she was in Honolulu, on the south side of the island, but could not tell if she was facing north, south, east, or west. She looked up to try to locate the North Star, but could not find it. Only the seemingly geometrically perfect half moon illuminated the sky behind a transparent mist of clouds being pushed slowly by the weak wind. Even if she’d been able to locate the star, she wasn’t sure that it would have been much help to her. She looked down at the blacktop at the cigarette butts and shards of brown and green glass. Old gum, now hardened black disks, overwhelmed some of the small valleys in between the rugged peaks of asphalt. Several bubbly globs of male spit also sat in stillness. This is where I am, she thought. Why did I come here? Where do I go from here? I still have twenty thousand dollars, she thought. She felt a sudden, deep desire to spend it.
-4-
The truck was in line at a stoplight on the corner of Kapiolani and Kalakaua. As the light changed, the traffic slowly rolled eastward. It was nine at night, and there was still traffic. Won Ju had spent the ride from Waianae to Honolulu looking at town and street names. Many of them were Hawaiian. On the freeway, there were exit signs indicating towns: Waipahu, Aiea, Honolulu, Likelike, Pali, Kinau. But as they got into town and on Kapiolani Boulevard, six lanes of traffic lights, bars, business buildings, a shopping center, and a convention center, the names varied: Cooke, Ward, Pensacola, Piikoi, Keeaumoku, Kalakaua. But she didn’t let the Hawaiian names fool her. A convention center? A shopping center with a gigantic Sears and Neiman Marcus? This was an American city.
“Why do you drive me around?” she asked.
“You need help,” Kaipo said.
“But you don’t owe me anything. You take care of me and Brandon, sure, you’re dating my sister, but you don’t complain, and I feel so bad; you’re not my driver.”
Kaipo shook his head. His huge forearms extended toward the steering wheel. Curly red hair sprouted from hand to elbow. “You no get it? Listen, you tink, jus’ like most odda people, ‘Oh, I goin’ owe him,’ or ‘Oh, he must want something from me.’ I just helping out. I mean, I not one saint or anyting, but what’s da big deal. Someone need help, you can help, help um.”
The light turned green. They were headed toward the apartment. Won Ju had set up a meeting with Kenny to discuss Brandon. She’d already told him what had happened on the phone, and he wanted to get together.
They passed McCully Street. After spending so much time in Waianae, she looked up at her former home and realized how pretentious it was. The surface was more tinted glass than cement. The condominium was sealed from the outside by a parking gate, computerized coded entry, and a handful of blue-shirted security guards. It was called Iolani Towers, named after King Kamehameha II.
Not that she thought of Waianae as any sort of paradise. The small town on the west side of the island scared her. She found the size of the people and poverty very intimidating. The pit bulls secured to houses with rusted, iron chains. The barefoot boys, some of them not even teenagers but bigger than her, strutting around like roosters. Cars that looked more expensive than some of the houses they were parked in front of. But the thing that intimidated her the most was the look on most of their faces. They looked so mad. Not just the men, but the women, too. It was as if the people were waiting for someone to punch them in the face. But it wasn’t a doomed look; it was one of defiance. “Just try it,” most of their faces said. She envied the look.
Kaipo’s entire body had the look. And from what Darian had told her about him, he had cause. He had, in fact, learned to brace himself for sudden, unexpected punches in the face since childhood. His father, schoolmates, juvenile detention, prison; and the fact that he was a red-headed, light-skinned Hawaiian didn’t help. Apparently, he was also short and skinny as a child. But he’d said something funny to Darian. Darian had told Won Ju that
he’d told her, “Was funny, though. I swear every time I got whacked, I think I grew half one inch wider and taller.”
As Kaipo pulled up to the entrance of the condominium, Won Ju asked, “How tall are you and how much do you weigh?”
“Six-five, three-thirty,” he said. “I guess I go pick you up in about one hour.”
“Thank you.”
“No prob.”
As she entered the building, and waited for the elevator, Won Ju thought about Darian’s attraction to Kaipo and understood it. The alpha-male thing was of course a factor. In caveman days, Kaipo probably would have been tribal chief. Kaipo’s lack of education was probably security for Darian, too. You are obviously the strong one, so I get to be the smart one. He also had eccentricities that made him, according to Darian, a round character. He was a neat freak. He was also incredibly punctual. Won Ju knew these traits by now. He’d said he’d be back in an hour, which meant that he’d be back in anywhere from fifty-six to fifty-eight minutes. Darian thought of him as a character in a book, which made Won Ju feel uneasy. Real people just didn’t cut it for Darian.
His most attractive quality, Won Ju guessed, for Darian was that he made her feel guilty. His life had been much harder than hers, and she knew it. Won Ju believed that guilt was one of the most powerful emotions a person could feel because it was almost impossible to put down. Maybe whenever Darian felt self-pitying, another strong emotion, having Kaipo around made her feel bad so she felt better.
The elevator doors opened, and Won Ju was relieved to find that no one was there. She hated standing in elevators with people. The person could be on the other side of the car, but to Won Ju it always felt like she was rubbing shoulders with a complete stranger. She would become conscious of her breathing, and stare at the upward or downward countdown of lighted numbers above the door.
She wasn’t anxious about seeing Kenny. But as she thought about him as the elevator ascended, she felt nostalgic about when they had first started dating. He’d come to the place where she was bartending, Club New Office, a name that to this day baffled her, a hostess bar. Pretty Korean women with four-inch heels, layers of makeup, and false eyelashes served drinks and rubbed slack-covered legs; it was during the pre-karaoke days, so most of the music was imported contemporary Korean stuff that made her miss home. Kenny had come in with his friends. He was a lot skinnier back then, and seemingly shy. She’d also found his name charming. It reminded her of her brother’s boy-like name.
When they’d first started going out, it was like he was trying to balance a tray full of cocktails, being careful not to spill one drop. In turn, she’d peel his oranges and shrimp, and when they finally started to sleep together, she’d tickle his back to help him fall asleep. It took years before he started to throw beer bottles against the wall. She wondered if all men were like this. She wondered if her son was going to grow up and be like this.
When she got off the elevator and entered the apartment, she was surprised to see how little it had changed. The fish tank was gone, of course, but the glass dining table, the television, the leather sofa, all of these things were in the same spot. Even Kenny seemed like an unmoved piece of furniture. He was sitting at the table, reading the sports section and drinking a bottle of water. He looked up. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
She sat down. “So about what I told you on the phone.”
Kenny put down the paper and shook his head. “Dumb kid. I told him about condoms.”
“Maybe you should have had the same talk with Crystal.”
“You seem to be taking this well.”
“Don’t comedians always say humor masks pain?”
Kenny took a gigantic swig from his plastic bottle, finishing off the water. “Listen, drop the kid off tomorrow. Let him spend the weekend with me. Maybe I’ll take him to the Club to have lunch or something. I’ll try to talk with him.”
“I’ll ask Kaipo if he can drop him off.”
“I would pick him up, but I have business stuff to do, and Waianae is so far away.”
“That’s O.K.”
“So she’s keeping it?”
“That’s what Brandon says.”
“What did your mother say?”
“Not much. But Donny said she stopped by the restaurant today, asking where Crystal was.”
“Your mother is nuts. Gotta love her. So are you guys ever going to come home?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
“Thanks.”
“The kid will be O.K. Jeez, I wish I had that my first time.”
Kenny winced. Won Ju stared at him. “Don’t start,” he said. “It’s not a me thing, it’s a gender thing.”
“I think he’s sad.”
“I’d be sad, too. Stop! Stop! Don’t leave; I’m just joking.”
Won Ju sat back down. “Why do you take everything so seriously?” Kenny asked.
“There’s a baby involved, Grandpa.” She hoped the word would hurt his vanity.
Kenny’s face turned serious. “Are you willing to work with me on this?”
“What?”
“I have connections. What Crystal did was illegal. Statutory rape. I think I can get custody.”
“And Crystal?”
Kenny slapped his palm on the table. “Fuck Crystal.”
“But she’s Kaipo’s sister, and Kaipo has been so good to us.”
Kenny slapped his palm on the table, this time even louder. “Fuck Kaipo. Listen, this is the way the world works. You want something, you take it with the law on your side. This is the real world, not the boondocks. Do you really want a stripper raising our grandchild? Do you want the kid? I know your mother must be going nuts. I know she’d agree with me. We can get custody, and we can adopt. I already talked to John, you remember, John from the Club? He’s a big time lawyer, and he thinks we have a good chance if we stay married.”
“And Brandon’s role?”
“C’mon, Won Ju. He’s still a kid with his whole life ahead of him. Finish high school, college. We take care of the kid; he doesn’t have to worry about it.”
“What if he wants to?”
“Sure, he’ll be like an affectionate older brother. Then off to the mainland for college.”
Won Ju sat quietly. Kenny was on a roll, and she felt herself being persuaded. “A couple of things, though, Won Ju.”
“What?”
“We wait until Crystal has the kid, then we move legally. I don’t want anything to upset the pregnancy. And we don’t tell Brandon. I mean, we may not get our hands on the kid for another year or two. Let him grow out of it. A year or two more in high school, girlfriends, driver’s license, he’ll forget about the baby.”
Won Ju nodded. She still had one more question. Who were they doing this for? But she kept the question to herself. Maybe she knew that Kenny had an answer ready to fire back. Maybe she was afraid that the real answer would somehow emerge if she asked.
-5-
Kaipo had no idea what he was doing with these people. When he’d first seen them at the Club, at the get-together after his sister’s wedding, he’d decided that he didn’t want anything to do with them. Private haole clubs, old Korean women with earrings that were worth more than his truck, Hawaiian guys who were trying to be haole, unemployed Korean guys who were momma’s boys, spoiled college girls, and sulky mothers and sons, none of it appealed to him. He’d gone to the dinner because his sister asked him to, but he figured that’d be it. He didn’t know why his sister was getting mixed up with these people, but he didn’t say anything. It was her life.
He had a bad attitude about people with money, and he knew it. He figured most people thought that his bad attitude sprouted from jealousy, but they were wrong. He didn’t have any desire to have a lot of money. He just took what he needed. He figured in the old days, it was probably similar, Hawaiians living off the land. But there was no land left, so he picked rich people’s stuff like he was picking
taro. And most of the time it wasn’t like it was stuff they needed anyway. Jewelry, car stereos, golf clubs, and laptop computers. He could understand punishing people who took what people needed, but punishing for taking things like these? It didn’t make much sense to him.
So he didn’t dislike people with money because he envied the fact that they had money, he didn’t like money because of what it turned these people into. It made them think that they had power, protection, and freedom. The shackles of cash were invisible to them, and to Kaipo, there was nothing worse than talking to somebody who thought that they had more or were more than they really were. He wanted to punch people like that in the face. And sometimes he did. Just to show them that he had no money, but he had the power and the freedom to hurt them, maybe even kill them, if he wanted to. He couldn’t believe how people with money were fooling themselves.
So when he’d seen those Koreans, that one token Hawaiian with all the plastic-looking muscles at the Club who had the nerve to call him “brother,” and the haoles all around him, he saw a bunch of fools. The funniest thing was that they looked down on him, but they also feared him. What could they do, make spears, helmets, and shields out of green paper? They knew what was up, but none of them had the guts to admit it to themselves.
When he’d arrived and sat down that night, facing the beach and the docked outrigger canoes, which were modeled after what his ancestors had made centuries before, he knew this Korean family was talking about money. He didn’t have to understand the language to know that that was what they were talking about. Controlled anger in words was the language of money.
He’d stared out at the canoes, thinking how even though he was half-Hawaiian, he’d never paddled one before, while the family spat back and forth in sharp and loud dialogue. There was a song-like quality to it; the words all seemed to vary in volume, and some words had even more than one tone to them. While listening to them sing about money, he thought back to when he’d entered the club just five minutes before, when he saw the trophies from the Hawaiian Canoe Club canoe racing victories, and the pictures of the winning crews—mostly white. So with the Koreans going at it in their language about money, and thinking about Hawaiian canoe paddling, Kaipo felt like a foreigner there, on the beach, in Hawaii.
The Queen of Tears Page 25