“What’s this about? Is Kent planning something?” I said with as much sternness as I could muster.
“Kent Cho?” she sounded startled. And then she said, “No, no, he stole your aunt’s money. No, he’s a bad man.”
“So why are you asking these questions?” I said.
“Listen, please wait one hour, please?” Then she hung up.
I relayed the whole conversation to Channing, and she agreed that we should leave before the hour was up. I locked the door until then.
“While he’s negotiating this deal, he’s still out there coming up with who knows what to get me. I’m not running from him, Dahee. Forget it,” Channing said.
“Yes, but let’s see what we’re dealing with. This isn’t a retreat. It’s to buy us time,” I said.
She agreed. We would have been out of there in thirty minutes if we hadn’t misplaced Channing’s charger. It was hard to get the one for her older-model phone, so we looked under the bed and the couch. Fifty minutes had passed, and I told her we had to give up on it. I’d find it online and order it for her. She said she had to check the kitchen counter one more time when there was a knock on the door. We both turned to the entrance.
“It’s probably Paul,” I said. “Let me check.” I started to walk toward the window that looked out on the landing, when Channing ran past me.
She must have sensed something momentous was going to happen, because she ignored me and yanked open the door. I heard her squeak and looked over to see her lunge outside.
I rushed over to see Minjae standing on the landing outside the door. Channing was in his arms, and he was in hers. “You’re safe,” he said. “I came as soon as I could, I’m sorry it took so long, I’m sorry.”
She shushed him. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m here.” She reassured him, and then with a voice thick with love she said, “I dreamt you’d find me.”
“You foundme,” he murmured.
“You’re right, I dreamt I found you,” she said.
They turned as if they were dancing in place on the landing. They called each other’s names and seemed to breathe together. Most of her disappeared again as he wrapped her closer to him. “You’re here,” they said to each other.
Then they slowed, and Minjae touched her face gently. They wobbled from the force of pressing into each other. There was a flurry of kisses as if their mouths were hands checking that their beloved was in fact real. And then a long, slow kiss.
I retreated into the apartment but kept my eyes on them. He leaned his head back and put the palms of his hands on each side of her face. “Let me look at you,” he said. She squirmed and hid her face in his chest again. “I knew you’d come,” she said.
How much time passed? I busied myself with tidying up Paul’s apartment. Finally, Channing and Minjae walked into the apartment, and Paul came up the stairs a few seconds later. He must have been struck just as I was watching this reunion and pretended to be doing something else as they got reacquainted. Minjae briefly said hello to me, but his eyes never left Channing’s face. Paul’s eyes met mine, and I knew he was inviting me to exit the apartment. A relief to me. We left those two entwined on the couch, their arms and legs over and under each other. Channing was beaming. Minjae’s cheeks were flushed. The two of them kept touching each other’s faces as if to confirm the other’s existence.
Channing told me later that Minjae had been detained in a room after the storm the day Edison went missing.
“It was horrible. They kept threatening to deport him to another country. They said no one would know where he ended up. And that they’d do the same to me, or anyone else he contacted in East End,” she said.
We decided we wouldn’t be chased out of the town we loved. Minjae and Paul were playing volleyball on the sand with friends.
It was a warm day, one of those rare autumn days that were like dreams of summer. We walked a different beach than where Edison had been lost, where Channing had been arrested and forced into a patrol car. There was a concession that sold clam cakes and those fried fat whole-belly clams that I decided were my top favorite. I’d forgotten about them. We had fresh lemonade, too. We sat at a picnic table and looked out at the ocean on asunny afternoon. It didn’t seem frightening anymore. No bodies of water or storms, nor oceans, nor lakes would make me cower. The seagulls cried overhead, and the waves crashed onto the shore. The seaweed strewn about made me think of Austin. The joy he had in making something from nothing, linking those disparate strands of leftovers from the sea.
“So what happened? Why couldn’t Minjae return sooner?” I asked.
Channing pushed hair out of her eyes. “He was going to sneak back to East End without Kent knowing and check on me, but the visa thing was a problem, and he was afraid Kent would have the border officials turn him back. So, he called Mai at the Asian market, and she hired him as an employee so he could get a visa. It took time to process.”
“That’s why Mai told us to stay in the apartment. Good for Mai!” I exclaimed. People like her made me believe in East End again. I picked up a gray clamshell.
“Minjae thought Paul might accidentally spoil the surprise. So he had Mai call. He said he broke the speed limit driving over to us.”
A thought occurred to me. “I should tell Mai that she gave us the bag the money was in all those years ago.”
“She can corroborate Kent’s story,” Channing said. “Mrs. Ku told Minjae’s mother I was in jail, so Minjae called an old college friend at the justice department, but he’s really junior there so there wasn’t much he could do.”
“Ames said she got a call from them. Remember when we were going to hear Kent at the press conference?”
Channing nodded. “That must have been him. At least he was able to bring it to the attention of the right people and now something’s got to be done to get that money back.”
