“One.”
“Try to stay calm, we’re working on getting you out of there, I promise. If he has a list of demands, tell him to write them down, and I’ll try to get them for him, relax,” he continues.
“His name is Lloyd, Lloyd Kang,” I reply, and Lloyd removes the phone and slams it into its cradle. I DIDN’T TELL YOU TO TELL HIM MY NAME, he howls and holds the butt of the shotgun above my head.
Daiyu and Faye gasp.
“Don’t, Lloyd. If you hurt us, you won’t get anything you want,” I tell him, looking up at him.
He stares at me, and I can see his eyes are rimmed in red as if he’s rubbed them too hard. YOU DON’T EVEN CARE IF HE DIES IN A NORTH KOREAN SHITHOLE.
“But he’s not alive, Lloyd,” I remind him. I can’t make myself call you dead. “The accident in Korea, you remember, he’s gone. There’s no one to save.”
YOU LIE, he spits, lowering the shotgun. Where’s the handgun? Is it close to me on the bed? YOU DON’T EVEN LOVE HIM. I CAN PROVE HE’S ALIVE. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO THEN? HOW ARE YOU GOING TO EXPLAIN TO HIM WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO DO UNTIL I STOPPED YOU?
He waves the shotgun at all of us. YOU’RE GOING TO FREE HIM. HE’S WORTH A HUNDRED OF YOU.
12
Once, in my high school gym, I stepped off the bleachers from the top row, expecting to make my way down as everyone else was doing at the end of a school rally. As soon as my foot found air, I knew something was wrong. Instead of finding a foothold on the level below me, I was falling, and I told myself, I’m falling: I must have time because I’m aware of this, and here is air around me, space and air, I’m falling, I can move my arms, I can put out my hands and brace my fall. So move, now, I told myself, move your arms, get your hands ready. My mind told my hands, my arms, even my legs to adjust, and I was convinced I could still make this happen even as my shoulder slammed onto the polished wooden basketball court, even as my head followed suit, making contact with the surface—I believed I had a chance to affect the way I landed. Stunned, I couldn’t believe how fast the floor had risen to greet me. Hard, unforgivingly hard, and my body ached. I lifted my head. What had happened to my chance? My sister looked down at me from the fifth row, where I’d been moments before, and said, “You fell like a rock.”
13
We sit and wait. Why isn’t Detective Sax calling again? Faye leans into me, and I lean into her. Heather, on the other side of Faye, sits up tall. Daiyu leans into Heather. Lloyd paces, twitching and mumbling at something on his shoulder. From outside, in the direction of the parking lot, come sounds of car doors slamming shut and tires crunching gravel. Loud voices call to each other. I HAVE PROOF. I HAVE PROOF, Lloyd mutters as he paces. He jerks the gun around his body. He and the shotgun are one unit, and we are stuck in our places. I hold my breath. He levels the gun with his other hand, pointing it at each of us one by one. I’LL KILL THEM. I WILL. YOU KNOW I CAN, he shouts at the ceiling.
It’s Heather who talks to him. “The police aren’t going to let you just kill us. They’ll come in any minute. Give up right now and save yourself.”
14
It’s my fault my friends are in this room facing this crazy man. Heather’s room is two doors down from mine. I met Heather on the day I moved in. Her little brother ran into me with a stuffed toy Dalmatian in his hands. Later Heather introduced me to Faye, who was her roommate. Daiyu was in Faye’s biology lab. Clear line, friend to friend to friend.
15
My hands are tingling. The tape is too tight around my wrists. I have to get out of this somehow. What can I say to Lloyd to make him let us go? What would you say if you were here? You would say we had to try, no matter what, that we could never give up.
The phone rings, and Lloyd holds it up in the air. Sax’s voice comes through. “You sound like a reasonable person, Lloyd. We can work this out. We don’t want this to get out of hand. I’m here to help you.”
YOU’RE THE BALD MAN IN THE LONG COAT, AREN’T YOU?
“I want to help you.”
I’VE GOT THE SAME COAT. WHAT ABOUT THAT?
“That’s a good start, Lloyd. How can I help you?”
My heart catches in my throat. Will it be as easy as that? Sax will give Lloyd what he wants. Lloyd is sweating and keeps wiping his face with the palms of his hands, which have dirt and grime on them. Each time he wipes his face he leaves streaks of black and brown on it. The phone doesn’t reach the window overlooking the parking lot, so Lloyd runs back and forth to see what’s going on outside as he talks to Sax on the phone.
“I WANT PRESIDENT REAGAN, PRESIDENT CHUN DOO HWAN, AND KIM IL SUNG TO MEET WITH ME PRIVATELY.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Sax says without missing a beat. Is it every day that someone requests a meeting with three world leaders? Hope rises in me again. We can hear Detective Sax’s voice on the phone because it’s quiet otherwise, so quiet otherwise, as if everyone outside has frozen in place too and is listening intently, even the birds. Lloyd holds the phone away from his ear, out to us.
Sax is talking. “I understand. Give me some time. You’re talking about the White House.”
YES. THE WHITE FUCKING HOUSE. I’LL TRADE THESE GIRLS FOR JAESUNG KIM. HE’S AN AMERICAN STUDENT IN NORTH KOREA RIGHT THIS MINUTE. LET HIM GO, OR ELSE THESE GIRLS AREN’T GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THIS. DON’T THINK I WON’T DO IT. REAGAN, CHUN DOO HWAN, KIM IL SUNG. IN THAT ORDER.
“You mean the leaders of North Korea and South Korea and President Reagan?”
My heart falters. Sax doesn’t sound as confident as he did a moment ago.
Lloyd’s voice rises. ARE YOU STUPID, OR ARE THESE GIRLS NOT WORTH IT? IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE SAYING? YOU GOING TO TELL THEIR PARENTS THAT?
“It’s the other side of the world, that’s all, Lloyd. What else? Can I get you something else? Work with me, Lloyd.”
THE FUTURE OF THE WORLD DEPENDS ON FREEING JAESUNG KIM.
“Tell me about Jaesung Kim.”
YOU THINK I’M STUPID? YOU’RE STALLING. GET ME WHAT I WANT. I’VE GOT FOUR GIRLS IN HERE. I’LL SHOOT THEM. DON’T THINK I WON’T.
“Listen, I’m just making sure. We have to be sure. I wouldn’t want to get the wrong president.”
FUCKING ASSHOLE, PATRONIZING ASSHOLE.
“Wait, wait, listen, I said it wrong. Let’s be realistic: getting the president—you’re talking leaders of three countries—will take some time. Let me help you. You need any food? Water, anything at all until we can arrange what you want?”
YOU’RE STALLING AGAIN.
“I’m being helpful. Let me help you, Lloyd. But let me be clear, you won’t get to talk to the president if you hurt anyone. I work with you; you work with me. Agreed?”
DON’T BULLSHIT ME. YOU’VE GOT ONE HOUR.
Lloyd slams the phone down into its cradle.
16