by Jimin Han
“You said you hated him. I don’t blame you. He’s a coward. The worst kind. Look at him and his guns. Probably doesn’t even know what a real gun is.”
“He knows,” I said and then regretted it even as I wondered why I was defending my father.
“You mean the shotgun and the handgun he has here?” Lloyd opened the front hall closet, reached up to the top shelf, and then thrust the handgun, laid flat in his palm, at me. “He hides them in obvious places.”
“Get that shit away from me,” I said and went outside.
A minute later he was outside too, and I locked the door after him, and we walked to his car. He knew the way back to the hospital without my directions. “Go home,” I said to him when he pulled up at the entrance. I tried a lighter touch. “I appreciate this, but I’m okay. Please, go home to the city, Lloyd.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re overreacting because of your father. I’m not your father,” he said.
“You’re crazy,” I said without meaning to. It just struck me as I stared at him that he hadn’t heard anything I’d said these past three days. I wondered whether he had ever heard me.
“Stop pushing me away. I’ll handle your dad, don’t worry. I know how to deal with bullies.”
Anything I said would be a waste of time. I felt his eyes on me as I slammed his car door and walked through the front entrance of Lakeburg General. I repeated to myself over and over again to remain calm and assured myself Lloyd would leave. He had to leave. I’d invited him into my life, and now I wanted him gone.
I was mad at all men. As I made my way through that hospital to my mother’s room, I was mad at everyone, even you. That comment Lloyd made about the clothes I’d worn in Korea made me wonder about what you’d think of me now. But of course that wasn’t the only thing. I had to stop in the bathroom to throw up. I knew I had to deal with being pregnant. I had to figure out what to do before it was too late.
81
The way to the door is clear. I can see that, even from my view from the floor. Lloyd didn’t push the desk back in front of the door after Daiyu left, and Heather takes advantage of that now and turns the knob before Lloyd yanks her away by her hair. She’s thrown back into Faye, who rolls away to avoid the collision. Lloyd isn’t satisfied with that. He jumps on top of Heather and starts hitting her with a hard object in his hand.
Finally I’m on my feet, and I’m pulling at Lloyd’s coat. “Stop, Lloyd. Stop, you’re killing her.”
I don’t think about it even as Lloyd takes a second to hit me, the metal of the gun slams into my head, and I’m knocked to the floor for the second time. But I feel a strange exhilaration even though I can’t get myself to move from where I’ve landed. It’s what I should have done when my father hit my mother, what I’ve always willed myself to do, and here I’d done it. I hear Faye screaming and Lloyd making this ooph sound as if he can’t catch his breath, and I wonder, What is that pile of clothes he’s thrashing on my bed?
And then I know it’s not clothes. I push myself up with my hands, and I scan the room for the shotgun. It’s on the floor next to Lloyd’s feet. I crawl to it.
Lloyd tilts the handgun so it’s aimed at Heather’s temple and stares at me. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? he says as if there isn’t a bleeding, moaning girl beneath him. PUT THAT GUN DOWN.
82
When I walked into the ICU’s curtained-off section they had for my mother, the drugs they’d given her must have been taking their toll. She sounded agitated and upset. The tubes and catheter had been taken out. She said to my father, “Why is Yoona here?” as if I couldn’t answer for myself.
“She came to see you,” he answered.
“Well, go back to school. I don’t want her grades to suffer because of me. And what about Willa?”
“You’re so silly, Ma,” Willa said, bending close. “I’m going to the community college, remember? I’m still going.”
“You promised me.” She looked at me and repeated herself.
“I know, Ma,” I said. “I know.”
“Make them go,” she said, looking only at my father.
“You’re very sick, Ma,” I said.
“I’m not. I’m fine. See?” She tried to raise herself from the bed and then gave up, letting herself sink into the mattress.
“They’ll be back for Thanksgiving,” he answered, nodding to us.
My mother closed her eyes. “Yes,” she said.
“Do you remember what happened, Ma?” I asked.
She nodded.
The doctor came in then and said that the worst was past.
“I’ll call. Go back to school, like she said,” Willa said.
“I can stay so you can take a break,” I said.
“Dad and I are going back to the house to sleep. Albert’s promised to come by. So go back to Weston. You heard the doctor.”
I sat with my mother for a few more minutes, and when she was able to squeeze my hand, I knew she was better. Relief flooded through me. She was going to be fine. “Go back to school,” she said, and her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded until I nodded with her and promised her I would.
Outside Lloyd was still in the car with his eyes trained on the doors. I walked to his side of the car, where his window was lowered. He raised his eyebrows. “So? How is she?”
I told him she was going to be okay, and he seemed visibly relieved. It softened me toward him. I tried to make amends. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I said.
“Apology accepted. Get in, let’s go back to school now,” he said.
“You need to go home, Lloyd.”
He looked away and then leaned over and released the passenger-side door. “I can’t leave you here like this. The bus was a nightmare. Admit it.”
I saw a trace of the Lloyd who’d found me at the bottom of the stairs after the party in the student union at the beginning of the semester. The one who said I could sit there and he’d sit with me, and everything else could wait.
Lloyd drove me back to campus, and I told him before I got out of the car that he should go back to the city.
He stared straight ahead. “You’re saying you don’t need me anymore.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. We’ll always be friends. And we’ll still talk. Maybe I have to go back to Korea, and you could go with me. We can’t know what happened to him from here.”
“How do you know how you’ll feel later today or even tomorrow? You’ll need me. I think I should stay for a while, and then after we go to your house again for Thanksgiving, after that I’ll feel better about leaving you here by yourself.”
“Thanksgiving? You’re not going home with me.”
“Your mom is in the hospital, Yoona. Everything isn’t fine. You need me. You’re in danger.”
“The boy you think was following you isn’t in class anymore. We’re not in danger, Lloyd.”
“That’s not proof of anything. It only proves he was never a student to begin with. You’re in danger.”
“I haven’t changed my mind. You can’t stay in my room anymore.”
He was silent. I opened the car door. “I’m sorry I was mad at you. I’ll call you in a few weeks,” I told him.
“If it’s about the room, I’ll find another place to stay.” He leaned toward me, and I jerked backward. “It was only going to be a hug,” he said.
“I’m tired, Lloyd. I’ve got to go,” I said and got out of the car.
“You’ll change your mind.”
“Go home,” I said and slammed the door shut. His car took off, spinning its tires. I went up to my room, collapsed on the bed, and slept like the dead. Isn’t that the expression? I slept without dreaming.
83
The side of my face throbs, and touching it makes it worse. It’s not over. None of it is. Outside there’s still the staccato thud of helicopters. Heather’s attempt at escape has left her gasping for breath, her face a bloody mess. Lloyd pushes the muzzle into Heather’s head, and
she cries out. My friends are going to die if I don’t do something. No one can save us. Sax is doing nothing but giving Lloyd time to kill each of my friends. Lloyd is not getting a car or a conversation with the president. The hard knot in my chest unravels. You would say there’s got to be a way. I hold the shotgun out to him.
“You dropped this, thought you might want it,” I say. Nothing about it sounds truthful, but I have to think of something. Faye has her arms crossed over her knees, and she doesn’t look up. Lloyd lets Heather collapse on the bed, then he wipes the gun in his hand against his coat, and there’s a red smear now against the gray wool. I try not to look at the blood too closely. He gets to his feet as if the effort exhausts him, and takes the shotgun from me. Something about this is familiar—the feel of the gun, something about the gun.
I approach the bed and stifle a sob as I examine Heather. Stay still, Heather, I say silently to her. I know touching her will make her hurt more. “She needs medical help,” I tell Lloyd. My mother didn’t have head contusions like Heather seems to have, but Lloyd opened up a cut on her head, and she’s bleeding.
IT’S A FUCKING BRUISE, SHUT UP.
“No, she needs stitches. Look, she’s losing consciousness. She’s going to die,” I tell him.
STOP LYING. I HARDLY TOUCHED HER.
I turn away from Heather so I can control my voice. “Lloyd, of course you know all about injuries. Let’s ask the detective for a car, and let’s go somewhere. This can’t be good for the baby. Ask him for a car and some money, and we’ll drive to Canada, and we’ll keep looking for Jaesung. Maybe they’ll listen to us in Canada. But I need you to help me with this baby. Are you still willing to do that?”
PICK UP THE PHONE. ASK ABOUT THE CAR. Lloyd stands up from the bed and backs away.
Sax’s voice comes through. “Almost, Lloyd. Can I speak to the girls? We heard some disturbing noise. What’s happened? Anyone hurt?”
“She’s bleeding too much, she needs help,” I tell him.
“Who’s bleeding? Lloyd?” Sax asks.
SHUT UP. SHE DESERVED IT. SHE’S BEEN ASKING FOR IT. DID YOU SEE WHAT SHE DID? This is directed at me and Faye. I wipe my hands on my jeans.
“Lloyd, they want to send some people in, I can’t hold them back,” Sax says, and it’s a plea. If he’s been an expert negotiator for twenty years, why does he need to plead?
I put my hands on my stomach. “All of this is upsetting to the baby,” I say. He narrows his eyes at me.
“You’re responsible for all this, Yoona,” Faye hisses with her head still buried in her arms.
“Let me see,” I say and put the phone down and move over to Heather.
“You killed her, you murderer,” Faye screams.
“What’s going on in there, Lloyd?” Sax shouts.
SHUT THE FUCK UP OR YOU’LL BE NEXT.
“You’re a monster, a fucking monster. You had to hit her that hard? You just had to?” Faye continues.
YOU THINK BEING A MURDERER IS THE WORST THING YOU CAN BE? he howls at Faye. KNOWING YOU STAND BY WHEN PEOPLE—THOUSANDS, HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS—ARE BEING MURDERED. THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW.
“Lloyd, I can’t protect you if they come in,” Sax says, his voice calmer now.
GET ME MY CAR.
Sax’s voice sounds again: “You’ve broken your promise, Lloyd.”
Lloyd waves the phone at me. TELL HIM IT’S A SUPERFICIAL WOUND, THAT’S ALL IT IS.
“Wait, Lloyd, if someone is hurt, we have to talk about that,” Sax says. “I can’t protect you if they go in.”
I’M NOT NEGOTIATING ANYMORE.
“Send out the girl you hurt, or there won’t be a car.”
OH, THERE WON’T? Lloyd’s voice is sarcastic. YOU SURE?
“We’re close to the end, and this is what you do? I’ve gotten through to the White House. I’ve spoken to the president’s aide, and he agrees that this is an international concern. The president’s arranged for you to have special immunity as a temporary agent for the FBI. We’ve located a minivan to transport all of you to the airport, and we’re packing it with money now for your use. I told you, I haven’t lost anyone yet, and I don’t intend to today.”
NEVER HEARD ABOUT A TEMPORARY FBI AGENT.
“Serena told me they have them,” I agree.
“But the president wants to make sure no one dies. That would cancel everything.”
Lloyd puts the phone in my hand. TELL HIM. And then he hurries to the window.
“She’s breathing,” I tell Sax.
“You’re pregnant, are you?” Sax asks.
“If you can get someone from the State Department to talk to him, even if it’s not the president—”
“Your name? The names of the others with you?” Sax interrupts me.
I tell him before Lloyd can make it back over to take the phone from me. I KNEW PRESIDENT REAGAN WOULD UNDERSTAND. CARTER’S A WIMP, BUT I KNEW PRESIDENT REAGAN WOULD BELIEVE ME. I’M READY TO BE PART OF THE FBI JUST TO GET JAESUNG FREE.
“There are instructions in the car. Drive the car to Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Airport. That’s the way we handle all our agents. There are special instructions in the glove compartment.” Sax speaks slowly, as if he’s passing along a password to Lloyd.
IS THAT WHY THE MAN WITH THE RED HAT IS OUTSIDE WITH YOU? HE’S FBI, ISN’T HE?
“Can’t fool you, Lloyd. That’s the kind of thinking President Reagan says he needs in the FBI.”
HE’S CIA THEN?
“You were right the first time. FBI. Sent to make sure those North Koreans didn’t kidnap any more American students.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Was Lloyd correct all along? But then I see the fear on Faye’s face, and I know Sax is playing a dangerous game. A temporary FBI agent? But Lloyd nods along to everything Sax says. If Lloyd suspects he’s lying, what will Lloyd do to us?
84
I woke up having slept for twelve hours straight. The nurse had told me I could make an appointment at a clinic in Scranton. It was a two-hour bus ride. I called them, and their earliest available appointment was in fifteen days. I’d be nine weeks pregnant. Though the receptionist told me I was still eligible for the D&C, I felt panic surge in me. I couldn’t wait another day with this knowledge. Fifteen days seemed impossible.
“With so many closures, everyone is coming to us. October twenty-second is the best we can do,” she explained when I pleaded with her to move up the date. “Come in at nine a.m. and speak to a counselor about your choices. They’re very good at helping people here. They’ll explain everything then. It’ll be fine,” she said. I hung up not feeling anything would be fine. My life was on hold. Classes didn’t matter, Lloyd vanished from my consciousness, and other college students seemed to have no idea how lucky they were not to have what I had hanging over their heads. My life had veered toward a cliff. If you were dead, this might become the child we could have had together, but I wasn’t ready, I’m sorry, but I was not in any way ready, and I couldn’t handle this. Not any of it. I needed my life back.
I started walking without an idea of where I was going. Downtown I stopped in a diner and ate a huge breakfast of pancakes and eggs. I was craving ice cream, so even though it was morning, I ordered that too. The waitress raised her eyebrows. “Why not?” she said.
Eventually, by afternoon, I made it back up to campus. A large group had gathered by the founder’s statue. Someone was speaking into a bullhorn about the divestment movement. Faye was standing by the walkway, listening. I felt such relief to see her, but I felt guilty too. I couldn’t explain. “Where have you been?” she said when I walked up.
I told her about my mom. She listened and told me about her father’s illnesses over the years. She’d never shared much about her life at home. I’d spent all this time with Serena and not much with Faye, Heather, or Daiyu. And yet these three had welcomed me from the beginning. Faye was headed to the shantytown, where Heather and Daiyu were working on their makeshif
t house. I walked with her.
The roof was the first thing I saw. A roof fashioned out of aluminum sheets and plywood boards nailed together for walls. Large metal staples held smaller fragments together. The door was special, with a circular window that Faye said Heather had cut with a jigsaw. I traced it with my finger in awe. Between studying and all their clubs and activities, how had they managed this? My friends had made a rain-impervious shelter, complete with a decorative front door, with a small bench inside. “Daiyu made the bench,” Heather said when I opened the door and greeted her. “And the floor is our next project. We really need a solid floor.”
“I think these houses are supposed to make us feel bad for people who live in places like this,” I said. “Don’t get carried away.”
“Good point,” she answered, laughing.
Heather said people were nervous about the sit-in, and there was pressure from the first round of exams in classes, and stupid fights were breaking out on campus. Faye joined in, saying someone had emptied someone else’s backpack at the library, scattering notes and books between shelves. A girl nearby said she’d seen an Asian guy run out of the stacks with a can of spray paint.
I left them to head to the library a few minutes later. I meant to get a quick sandwich at the lunch truck, but found myself famished and ordered two, plus a large chocolate milkshake. On my way back to my dorm, I took a shortcut through the back lot of a dorm for upperclassmen and heard the sound of something heavy being dropped over and over again. I saw someone who looked like Lloyd pulling garbage bags out of a large green dumpster. I tried to get closer to see if it actually was him, but when he turned in my direction, I stepped behind a van. When I heard the sound of bags being moved resume, I looked around the van and saw Lloyd open them one by one, fish around inside, and take out articles of clothing. He pulled on pants over his pants and then took a long gray wool coat and shrugged it on, folding the wide flaps over his chest.