11. Chapter 11
“Let the guest have your room, Denny.”
“What? Why?”
Mr. Han zoomed around the living room, snapping blinds shut. “Because you don”t have windows facing the street,” he replied. “We can”t let any bad guys see him, and if he”s in your room he can jump out on the patio in case of an attack.”
“There isn”t going to be an attack!”
“How do you know?”
“Oh my god. The same way I know the sky is blue?”
“I don”t need to take anyone”s room,” Eunjae said in a rush. He pointed to the couch. It was overstuffed, sage green, and patterned in tremendous yellow and white roses. “I can just sleep here. And anyway, I really don”t sleep much.”
Jiyeon tossed her keys on the dining table and set off down a shadowed hall, flicking lights on as she went. “Come on. We can figure out the room situation later.”
As he followed a few paces behind her, Eunjae couldn”t help noticing the decor. Framed landscapes of pastoral meadows shared space with family photos on the walls. Every now and then he’d glimpse a painting of some battle involving rearing stallions and flashing sabers, or hunting scenes filled with foxes and forests. And in a niche that might have once been a closet with open shelving, Eunjae came upon a mind-boggling profusion of Jane Austen merchandise.
The books were there, of course. At least two or three editions of each one. Some copies bristled with sticky note flags in a rainbow of colors. Squashed in beside them were DVDs and even some VHS tapes, the cardboard covers beginning to fade with time. It appeared that a few of these had been adopted from a now defunct video rental store.
There was more. Eunjae spotted a set of porcelain plates featuring hand painted English gardens, manor houses, and Austen quotations in curling script. Coffee mugs bearing similar or identical quotations huddled beside wine goblets festooned with portraits of Mr. Darcy, as played by various actors. Eunjae could tell that one particular Darcy was the favorite because his face also graced several other items, including coasters and a music box.
He was leaning in to examine a framed photo of a sour-faced little boy dressed in period attire when Jiyeon appeared beside him. “Ah, the Austen shrine,” she said, straightening a trio of faux mile markers. These were carved with the words Pemberley, Kellynch Hall, and Northanger Abbey. According to the signs, all were approximately one mile away from this location. “Mom”s a little bit obsessed.”
Eunjae pointed to a worn and weathered paperback of Emma. “Found you. And I guess Lizzie is short for Elizabeth?” He vaguely remembered a character named Elizabeth from the time he saw Pride Prejudice with Jungwoo. They”d watched it one night because Jungwoo was in a historical romance phase. He called it research for his songwriting efforts. Eunjae had slept through most of the movie, wiped out from hours of choreography drill.
“Yeah,” said Jiyeon. “And our older sister is Jane. Well, Janie. Denny narrowly missed being named Darcy. He only ended up being Dennis instead because our dad threw a tantrum and named him after his best friend.”
“Darcy Han. It has a ring to it.”
Jiyeon laughed. “Never tell him that.”
“Why Jane Austen?”
“Hmm, well. When she first came to America, Mom really wanted to speak better English. To her logic, the best way to learn English, like proper English, was to study how they talk in England. She tried the Bront? sisters first and thought they were too depressing. All that wuthering and the crazy wives in attics. ‘Eh! I can get that from Korean shows!’ This Austen lady was pretty funny, though, once you figured out what she was saying.”
“She’s right. You really can get all of that from Korean shows.”
“The one thing she complains about when it comes to Austen is that twenty different people are named Charles. Like, per book.”
Eunjae could feel Jiyeon watching him even as she said this, studying his face in profile. He turned his head to look at her. Quietly she asked, “If you tell me your name, will I know too much about you?”
He closed his eyes for just a moment. “Yes.” His name was the key to everything. It would give away the game. And yet, how was it fair for Jiyeon to have given him so much while he offered her next to nothing?
He had two names. At the very least, he could trade her one of them, pay back her trust in him by trusting her in return.
“Eunjae,” he said, the syllables so strange to pronounce after all the years of only using that name in his head. “My name is Eunjae.”
Now, Eunjae knew that revealing his name could go a few different ways. He”d made too much of a snap decision to consider more than a few possible scenarios, but none of these involved Jiyeon frantically clapping a hand over his mouth and hustling him into a dark room. To say that it took him by surprise would be an understatement.
She shut the door behind them. There was a click as she locked it for good measure. Eunjae”s imagination began cranking out visions of Jiyeon”s male relatives chasing him into the street with baseball bats. He pictured her mother hurling Mr. Darcy wine goblets like projectile missiles and fumbled for the doorknob, fearing for his life.
Jiyeon”s warm fingers curled around his wrist, preventing escape. She hit the light switch with her other hand. Eunjae winced at the ensuing brightness.
“Why did you tell me your name?” she demanded. “Now I know too much.”
Eunjae blinked at her. “You didn”t want to know it? It seemed like you did.”
“Yes? No?”
He unlocked the door in the name of self-preservation. “I wanted you to know it, though,” he said. “Really, it”s okay.”
Her expression softened for a moment. “Hopefully no one else heard. Please tell me it”s a fake name, at least.”
“It isn’t. I”m sorry. But I have more than one name, just like you.”
“I’m not sure I can handle this responsibility. What if I”m captured and interrogated?”
Eunjae smiled. “You could refer them to Ryan Kim in San Bernardino.”
“That won’t work. They might go after his mom next.”
“Good call. She seems like a nice lady.”
“See? Exactly. I’m in a bind, here.” She reached around him, turned the knob, and tugged the door open. From the living room came snatches of cooking show narration and Denny’s noisy commentary. For the second time that evening, Eunjae almost crumpled to the floor out of sheer relief. He went to go sit at the desk before his knees could buckle.
Jiyeon tossed her tote bag onto the bed and plopped down beside it. Sighing, she began removing the tiny red flowers from her hair, setting them in a pile on the nightstand. “I don”t know who you”re hiding from or why,” she said, “but the less I know, the better. Keep your secrets, Ryan Kim.”