A Small Revolution

“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.

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