A Small Revolution Read online

“Forget it. You should be hydrated. Tongsu Cho can make you juk. Can you walk to the kitchen, or should I bring it back for you?” He peered up at me.

  “No, no, I can manage,” I called down. “What about Jaesung?”

  Lloyd backed up as I climbed down the ladder. He didn’t answer me. The sunlight was bright outside even though it was nearly seven thirty in the evening.

  “What was for dinner?” I said and then stopped him. “Wait, don’t tell me. The thought of it will make me throw up.”

  “You look a little greenish,” Lloyd replied, concern on his face.

  I touched my cheek with my hand. I’d brushed my teeth an hour earlier, after I’d thrown up. Maybe I wasn’t ready to eat anything yet. But where were you? I hoped you’d sent him to check on me. I had been feeling sorry for myself and missing you, hearing the girls in the cabin fuss about what they were up to. No one had offered to help me. Instead they treated me as if I had a contagion.

  “You’ll see him soon,” Lloyd said, and I was grateful. We’d been together at some point every day for nearly two weeks by then. An entire afternoon and into the evening seemed like eons.

  “He went to town again, didn’t he?” I said as a fear rose in me. “On the bus, is that where he went? Would he try to talk to those men in the mandu shop?”

  “Nah, he’s here,” Lloyd said. “You sure you’re able to make it to the kitchen?” He warned me about the step before the doorway as I stumbled toward it.

  “I haven’t ever been this sick,” I told him. “Please tell him not to worry.”

  Lloyd let out a breath, looked down at his sneakers. “Okay, he’s with a girl. She’s in the cabin next to yours, but it’s not what you think, at least not yet.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I stopped short.

  “Her cousin told her he’s going to join the martyrs, so it’s really about that. Jaesung says he wants to support them, but I don’t know. He’s still obsessed with the idea of jumping.” He slid the door open to the Great Hall and waited for me to enter first.

  “But he said in Seoul we’ll go to meetings and—” I didn’t finish.

  There you stood, a few feet away from me. You were engrossed in a conversation with a girl with a hand on her hip. You were nodding and talking, and your hand was out as if you’d catch her if she fainted. You looked earnest, determined, and she was grimacing and talking just as hurriedly to you. You were standing close to her, too close, and then I saw your hand take hold of her arm. She laughed at something you said.

  “But it is,” you said. “Don’t you see, that’s the only way anything will change.”

  She shrugged. “They’re going to send him to the States to get away from his friends,” she said. You let go of her arm. “Can’t blame them. He’s their son.” You seemed disappointed.

  “Yoona needs juk,” Lloyd said while I hung back. You looked up at his words, and I saw your eyes brighten when they found mine. “Hey, you’re feeling better,” you said and rubbed my arm. There was an awkward silence as I searched for a reply.

  Finally, the girl held out her hand. “I’m Aecha.”

  I shook it as Lloyd said, “This is Yoona.”

  She smiled, putting her hand back on her hip. “You’re friends with Cindy Im. From Boston?”

  “That’s Yoona Sung. This is Yoona Lee,” you said while I still couldn’t seem to find my voice.

  “Ah.” She nodded. “Got it.” More silence followed. Then she said to you, “Talk to you later?”

  “Definitely,” you agreed. I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of your certainty even though we were all stuck on this tour together.

  We watched her walk to a table where a group of girls were polishing their toenails beside a tall fan. I saw her look back as you started to explain.

  “I’m going to meet her cousin when we get to Seoul,” you said. “Before he goes to the States with her. But I don’t think he’s going to go. She says he’s snuck out twice, and maybe he’ll have jumped by the time we get back. She hasn’t heard from her family, but she hasn’t called. She’s afraid to hear.”

  “Can’t you see how fucked up that is? She can’t call her family because she’s afraid to hear her cousin killed himself?” Lloyd said flat out.

  You ignored him. “Have you stopped throwing up?” you said to me. I let you lead me away, and Lloyd trailed after us. There was no reason for me to be jealous of Aecha, was there? I wrapped my arm around you and hugged you close as we walked toward the Great Hall.

  The kitchen was behind the cafeteria, next to the Great Hall. Shelves of large pots and pans and bins of bowls and plastic tubs lined the room. In the middle was a wooden table; against the wall sat a huge stove with a small pot set on a burner and large doors of what looked to be refrigerators.

  A man was putting away a large colander. He turned when we entered, and you and Lloyd clasped him in high handshakes. Lloyd started talking first, but the man seemed more interested in you, because he didn’t respond until you said in Korean, “This is Yoona, she’s not feeling well.” Then the man’s vision seemed to clear, and he noticed me for the first time.

  “So this is the young lady,” he said in Korean.

  I held out my hand in a formal greeting, but he didn’t take it. Instead he motioned for me to sit at the table in the middle of the kitchen. “Where is it?” he mumbled in Korean and searched in a drawer until he withdrew a spoon and headed for the stove. He proceeded to stir the contents of a small pot and said over his shoulder in English to us, “Better more time, but what can you do.”

  You explained that I knew Korean. “Of course,” he replied in English. “You have Korean blood—you speak Korean. One people.” He nodded at us. “One country. All the same people.”

  When he placed a bowl of soupy rice in front of me, I saw that his fourth finger had been amputated above the large knuckle. “Factory accident,” you said in English, as if reading my mind.

  Tongsu Cho held his hand out, fingers spread. “Many, many,” he said, still in English.

  “He means there were other workers who lost their fingers just like him at the factory,” you said.

  “That’s why he became a cook,” Lloyd added. “The factory didn’t have any safeguards for the workers—it was routine to lose a finger.” Tongsu nodded at me as if confirming Lloyd’s words and pointed at the bowl for me to eat.

  I spooned some rice and tasted it. The warmth was soothing. “It’s delicious, thank you,” I said in Korean.

  “You speak very well,” he said, still in English. And because he spoke to me in English, I figured my Korean wasn’t as good as yours or Lloyd’s. “Eat more,” he gestured. Your hand was on my shoulder, and I wanted it to stay there. I stirred the juk to cool it. Lloyd was talking in Korean.

  “Mr. Cho, repeat one more time what you told me this morning.”

  Tongsu Cho bent his head down, an arm around you and Lloyd in a huddle. In Korean he said, “Who benefits if Korea is two separate countries? Kim Il Sung is a strong leader for the people of Korea. He can’t be bought by the United States government, do you understand? No deal.” In English he said it again. “No deal. Tough.” Then he continued in Korean. “Kim Il Sung is so strong even the Japanese respect him. They’re supporting him. They’re smart: they know who is going to win, and this is a war—let me tell you—this is a war that will continue, but the North is where the power is, the best factories. My family is from the same area as Supreme Leader Kim Il Sung. If we organize in a smart way, we’ll succeed, I promise you.”

  I ate the juk, which had a rich pork-broth base, as they talked.

  “But tell Jaesung where you’re going after this,” Lloyd urged.

  “This is only a two-week job,” Cho said.

  “Yes, so tell us what you’re doing afterward. You know, about Seoul.” Lloyd was nodding and blinking as if hurrying Cho onward, as if his nods and blinks were hands on Cho’s back, pushing him onto a stage.

  Cho took a breath and pau
sed, looking at each of us to see if we were paying attention before he began. “I know a man who knows a man who is Supreme Leader Kim Il Sung’s second in command.”

  “So?” you said.

  “So there’s going to be a big protest,” Lloyd burst out. “Tell him, Mr. Cho, tell him.”

  “Oh, that,” you said, seeming dejected. “You already told me about that.”

  Lloyd leaned forward. “But this one, this one’s different. He just told me this today. Tell him,” he implored Cho.

  Cho shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s different, but there are leaders who need our help. One in particular who can unify our country.”

  You were suddenly alert. “Kim Dae Jung?”

  Cho inspected my bowl. “Don’t like?” he said in English.

  I replied in Korean, “I do. It’s good, thank you. You gave me a lot, that’s all.”

  “Come tomorrow, I’ll give you more. It’ll be better next time,” he said in Korean and smiled at me. I felt his approval.

  “Will you be meeting with Kim Dae Jung, Mr. Cho? Is that the secret in Seoul? Are you planning something with him?” you said.

  Lloyd was nodding again. “I told you, Jaesung. Forget the martyrs. There’s work to do.”

  “We’ll meet you in Seoul, wherever you say,” you said to Cho, who was wiping down the stove with a sponge.

  “They’ll be checking your cabins. You should go,” Cho replied without looking up from his work.

  “Tomorrow. Will you tell us tomorrow?” you said.

  “If you’re interested,” he said, his head still down.

  “How come you never told us before, Mr. Cho?” you asked.

  “You never asked before,” he said. “Carry this cabbage to the back room?” He pointed to a large box on the floor. You and Lloyd bent down to lift it and left me in the kitchen alone with Cho, who lost no time in signaling for me to come closer to him. I thought he had a task for me like the one he had for you and Lloyd, but he didn’t. He looked at the doorway through which you’d carried that box with Lloyd and said, “Jaesung is too idealistic.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant, because he was speaking now in Korean.

  “I’m only a cook,” he continued. “Before that I operated a machine that made tin boxes. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Did you lie just now?” I asked in Korean. “Were you lying about knowing Kim Dae Jung? Did Lloyd ask you to lie?”

  He looked me in the eye. “We have to protect our friends.”

  We heard footsteps nearing. You were on your way back already.

  “I have advice for you,” he continued in Korean. “A woman between two men is not good for anyone, especially the woman.”

  “Lloyd and I are friends. You don’t understand. I’m not between anyone,” I said.

  You and Lloyd returned to the kitchen, and Cho said loudly, still in Korean, “Second advice: don’t drink cold water, even if it’s hot outside. Drink barley tea. It’s been boiled. The hamburger didn’t make you sick.”

  I nodded. And then Cho shooed us out of the kitchen, and he was right to, because a tour guide was in the Great Hall as we made our way back, and she barked at us to get to our cabins.

  39

  AND WHAT ELSE? It occurs to me that the shotgun Lloyd laid across his knees holds the clue to how to get us out of here. I’ve seen it before somewhere. Did Lloyd have it with him when he came to Weston the first time? I can’t remember, but I feel I should. I should know. A warning I regret not registering. It is a feeling akin to sensing rising rainwater in our basement the summer I was seven years old, when I went down the creaky stairs to get the orange bucket of pollywogs Willa and I had caught in a pond in the woods, hoping to see them turn into frogs. But it had already rained too much, the basement had flooded, and the bucket floated sideways. I hoped some of the pollywogs had escaped, even as I saw many motionless in the water. Willa said they’d died earlier in the night, probably, and not because of the rain, but I didn’t believe her.

  40

  “He’ll talk your ear off,” you said about Lloyd, “but he’s smart and knows a lot about the history here. His parents wouldn’t have let him come, but he won a trip from a Korean company that was offering them—public relations thing—to college students. I think he had a rough time of it in high school. He’s a little extreme—odd, you know—but when you really talk to him, he knows everything. He’s read a ton. When you know that much, there’s a lot to be angry about. He’s a little emotional, but who isn’t?”

  “You see the best in everyone.”

  “Everyone has something, right? We all have more than we show the world. Lloyd has a ton under there. He should grow up to become secretary of state or something. He’d make a great one.”

  “But that’s what you want to be,” I said.

  “Me and him, we’d be co-secretaries of state. Or he could serve first, and then I’d go. So much left to do here and in the rest of the world, so much.”

  “I wasn’t sure about him at first, but now I like him. I see why you’re friends,” I said.

  “He gets emotional,” you said.

  “Yeah, like at the mandu place,” I said with a laugh, and then I said seriously, “You don’t want to be a martyr, do you?” And I held my breath.

  “Yeah, that was wild. Lloyd’s pretty stubborn,” you said, and I took that to mean he’d convinced you.

  Later that same day, you showed me how Lloyd put a bandage on a girl who had cut her shin on a tree branch. We were on a short hike through a park during the tour. You shook your head. “Look at him. He studied being an emergency technician’s assistant so he’ll be able to work his way through school. But he got a scholarship, so he doesn’t have to worry, but still. He thinks something’s going to go wrong. But if he didn’t have it, the scholarship, I mean, he’d find a way. Lloyd finds a way. Once you’ve struggled like that, you never let anything stop you again.”

  “You sound like you’ve been there,” I said.

  “Me? Nope. Nothing like Lloyd.”

  41

  Outside the room, there’s the sound of a loud engine, wheels spinning, and men’s voices calling. FUCK, he hollers, hugs the shotgun to his chest, and runs to the window.

  THERE’S A GODDAMN POLICE TRUCK OUT THERE NOW. SAX WAS BUYING TIME.

  “What did you think was going to happen?” I say. Lloyd is rubbing his face. When he gets nervous, he rubs his face. You told me that in Korea.

  How do I persuade him to let us go?

  “I think Sax has a point. The president isn’t coming here. We could go there, go to the White House to talk to him,” I tell him.

  I WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU. He speaks to me over his shoulder.

  I have to switch gears. “You were right to say that. Jaesung said you’d had a hard time when you were a kid. We talked about everything—like you and he talked about everything. You knew Jaesung better than I did.”

  I TOLD JAESUNG YOU WERE ON OUR SIDE. He starts pacing again. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, YOONA? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM? TO US? I’VE ALWAYS TRIED TO INCLUDE YOU. I SAID YOU WERE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. I TOLD HIM YOU WERE DIFFERENT FROM THE OTHER GIRLS. HE WAS INTERESTED IN OTHER GIRLS, BUT I FOUGHT FOR YOU. WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST GO WITH ME IN THE FIRST PLACE? I KNOW YOU WERE MAD, BUT LOOK WHAT’S HAPPENED.

  I won’t believe him. What other girls? Aecha, the girl with the cousin who was going to be a martyr? Were there others? I feel a part of me crumble inside, but I won’t fall apart. Not now. He’s wrong. Lloyd is wrong.

  “It took me a while, like it’s taken me now. Like you, Lloyd, I’m telling you, I know I made a mistake. Let me help now. Please. If you’d do this, then you must have proof. What is it?” I stretch my hand out to him.

  IT’S TOO LATE. It’s the quietest he’s ever spoken since he stormed into this room. He stops in front of me. His brows shift into confusion, uncertainty.

  “It’s never too late. You said Jaesung is still alive out
there, and we can make them release him. How can it be too late?”

  I’VE DONE TOO MUCH. He doesn’t look at me.

  “If you can forgive me, I can forgive you, and so can everyone else, right?” I look to my friends, and they shake their heads in flurried agreement. “Just let us walk out of here. Now. Nothing bad has happened. You got a little anxious to get help for Jaesung faster than it was going. You were frustrated. We all get frustrated.”

  Lloyd turns the shotgun over several times, but I see he’s listening to me.

  “Since you have proof now, we can find him, can’t we?” I keep my voice earnest and light, not the way I feel with my ankles taped and my wrists hurting. I talk as we had weeks ago in this very room, not as if the police are outside, not as if my friends and I are sitting here at his mercy. I remind him he used to trust me.

  YOU’VE LIED TOO MANY TIMES.

  “I only lied once to you. I said I was going home the day before yesterday when you stopped me in the quad, and you’re right, I didn’t go home. But you know it’s because you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

  IT LOOKS LIKE IT HURTS. He waves the shotgun at my feet.

  “I’ve got bad circulation. Remember I could never sit on the floor in Korea without my feet falling asleep?” I continue talking. I have to keep talking if we’re to have a chance. “Jaesung said I needed vitamin E, almonds, mangoes—which is why he knew what vitamins and food to eat.” I didn’t mean to move my feet, but I couldn’t help it. I hope he doesn’t see that they’re not bound tight.

  IF I DON’T SPEAK TO THE PRESIDENT, THEY’RE GOING TO KILL HIM. I HAVE PROOF THAT THE MEN JAESUNG WAS WITH ON THE NIGHT HE DISAPPEARED WORKED AS SPIES FOR NORTH KOREA.

  Even though I know you’re dead, the vision of you about to be killed makes my heart lurch. Lloyd sounds convinced. I try to smooth out my shaky voice. “Tell Sax you and I will fly right out of the county airport to meet with President Reagan.”

  BUT THERE’S NO TIME.

  “Faster than all the security required to bring the president here. Come on, Lloyd, this is a college in Pennsylvania. And you’re holding hostages in this room at gunpoint.”