“Look, clearly, you care about Channing. There’s no need to bring the police into this,” I begged.
Kent looked around, then he said to me, “I thought she was just immature. I could work with that. In fact, I want to help her grow, mold her into a better person. She’s childlike, innocent. I did a lot for her. This is how she repays me? You saw her in there. She lies about me hurting her in my own house. In front of everyone. I can’t have that. I have my reputation.”
Buzz came over just then and said my grandfather refused to leave Channing behind. Kent looked at me with the coldest eyes I’d ever seen and said, “This can get much worse if you don’t get your goddamn grandfather out of there right now, do you understand?”
“What do you mean?” I stammered.
“I mean, we’re not even supposed to be in here, so if you don’t get your grandfather out of there right now, this minute, the two of you will join her in there. You and your grandfather.”
Buzz laughed. He actually bellowed. “These people think they can do whatever they want,” he shouted to Kent. He’d heard me the whole time, and this was the one time he was going to let me know it. I ran back the way I’d come, and I told Harabeoji what Kent had said, only part of it.
“Come on, we have to go, hurry,” I said. Then, I called to Channing, “Hold on, we’ll get you out. The judge will release you as soon as the court opens. We’ll be back. We love you.”
She nodded, her chin against those dirty steel bars. “Love you too,” she said.
Chapter 30
It’s nothing,” I said. The splinter had darkened and the skin around it was red and hot to the touch. Harabeoji and I had returned to the Yuns’ house and tried to keep from giving up hope.
“It’s a small court, we’re a small town,” Mr. Yun said. “I have a lawyer—he’s not Korean but he’s good. We can ask him to help.”
Harabeoji held his hand gingerly beneath mine, studying the splinter. “Come over to the sink. Let’s clean it and get it out.”
The Yuns’ kitchen drawers had tweezers, tiny scissors, nail clippers, rubbing alcohol. Harabeoji employed a combination of all four to extract the splinter from my hand in one piece while Mr. Yun aimed his phone’s flashlight at my palm. There was some blood, but a Band-Aid produced by Mrs. Yun staunched it.
“How is that? Okay?” Harabeoji asked. I told him it was better now.
We’d settled around the kitchen table for an apple crumb cake Mrs. Yun had bought from Mrs. Ku’s bakery.
“How much is Kent’s watch going to cost?” I asked. I only took a tiny bite, imagining Channing in jail alone. What were they giving her to eat?
“I mean, it’s a small dispute, but it’s expensive,” Mr. Yun said. He’d cut himself a large slice. “And impressive. Have you ever seen one of those watches?” he said to my grandfather.
“He added assault,” Harabeoji said.
“We should tell my parents; they can help with costs. Have you heard from them?” I said to Harabeoji. I had phoned them the previous night, but they hadn’t answered.
“Yes, we need them,” Harabeoji said. “Good idea, Dahee.”
Mrs. Yun was putting back all the things her husband and my grandfather had pulled out of the drawers. “It has to be a misunderstanding,” she said.
“It’ll all be straightened out tomorrow. East End has a court, and Channing will be free. This is America. You can’t just put someone in jail,” Mr. Yun said, and clapped my grandfather on the shoulder. “Eat up for energy, and we’ll be ready for whatever comes.”
The next morning, Harabeoji, Mr. Yun, and I stood outside the police station on the sidewalk. Harabeoji’s hair was out of place, squashed on one side as if he’d laid down on it and forgotten to comb it. It was missing the sheen of the hair oil he used.
Mr. Yun looked around and said he’d called the lawyer he’d mentioned last night. As we waited, Kent appeared with an entourage. They huddled around him, and then they dispersed in various directions. He didn’t greet Mr. Yun or acknowledge us.
“This is not good, not good,” Mr. Yun mumbled to us.
“Where’s this lawyer?” I asked.
Mr. Yun glanced around, and then a grim smile appeared on his face. One I had not seen before. A white man with a thin mustache walked up to us. He was introduced as Jack Wire.
He shook hands with us, and Harabeoji thanked him for coming on such short notice, and the man said he was happy to help. When I began to ask him questions, he quickly evaded them by telling us to meet him at his office in a few minutes. He said he’d join us after he got some answers. He pointed behind him. “You’ll be more comfortable in my office, believeme, and I’ll be in and out of the courthouse and station more quickly that way. There’s coffee in the reception area. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Mr. Yun nodded and said he knew Wire’s office because he’d been there many times. Then he thanked him profusely and headed in the direction the attorney had pointed. I held back and watched as he left us. I was worried. He didn’t seem to know where the entrance to the police station was located.
As I walked to Wire’s office with Harabeoji and Mr. Yun, I checked my phone. My parents had not called, and there was no word from Minjae. Mr. Yun led us to the store where I’d bought books for Edison and Austin only a few days ago, though everything before the storm felt like months earlier. I recalled how I’d run into Kent at the library opening and felt disgusted at how sympathetic I’d been to him.
