9
Self-Determination
Orange County, California
Are you sure you don’t want a dress and a party?”
“I do not want a dress or a party.”
At the traffic light on North Brookhurst, Lion turned to look at her.
“You can change your mind.”
Yun shook her head. There was no way she’d allow her mother or Lion to incur such an expense. Besides, they didn’t have the money. Weddings were wasteful, she reasoned. The marriage was what mattered. A dress worn for a day could cost thousands of dollars, which made no sense.
They were driving to Anaheim. Lion was wearing his dark-blue suit and a gray tie, and Yun wore a white cap-sleeved shift trimmed in buttercup yellow and high-heeled sandals without stockings. The dress and shoes were new, and both could be worn again.
“What will we tell our children?” he asked.
“When are we having children?” Yun asked. “And how many?”
“My father used to say he wanted ‘Quality Five.’ ”
“Huh?”
“Five kids of high quality. For example, you could have ten kids, but only five make the cut. His grandparents had a pig farm. Statistically speaking, he said, not every member of the litter makes it, and some are of an inferior grade. I know. Crazy.”
“Wow, he doesn’t seem like that when you talk to him,” she said. “All three of you are the best quality, right?” She laughed.
“No idea. None of us will cure cancer or win an Olympic medal,” Lion admitted cheerfully, looking straight ahead, thinking of his parents, who he hoped would understand their decision. His mother liked Yun.
“We have no federal prosecutors, either. At first, they weren’t thrilled about Sarah becoming an immigration lawyer, but now she helps all their friends. And Ray’s doing well in real estate, owns several buildings. For my parents, owning buildings is also considered successful.”
Yun worried about what his parents would think of her father heading to S?o Paolo to try his luck and her mother operating Shrimp Castle by herself. And, of course, about today. They weren’t happy about Lion’s hagwon expansion or his playing music, but at this point, what could they do?
Lion’s mother would say, A parent always loses to the child.
The sun-filled annex chapel, used for the smallest of church services and funerals, was empty. Wide beams of light from the clerestory windows divided the oak-paneled room with diagonal stripes.
It felt odd to be at church on a Tuesday morning. The vast parking lot of the Anaheim megachurch—managed on Sunday mornings by volunteer traffic guards wearing yellow safety vests over their suit jackets, directing the lines of vehicles around orange cones—had almost no cars.
The young couple held hands and sat in the front pew, waiting for Sam Yi, the youth pastor, and his wife Andrea Kim.
“Ah, there are the lovebirds!” Andrea shouted, rushing past her husband, who walked more calmly.
The bright, tiny Korean woman with waist-length blond hair was a favorite with the younger congregants.
She was a junior partner at Price Waterhouse, and for Lion and Yun, she had taken the morning off to serve as a witness and photographer.
Everyone adored her husband, the thoughtful and brainy youth pastor.
Sam, a reserved transplant from the Bay Area, was someone everyone trusted with their secrets, and people felt comfortable around the couple, who were well-matched opposites.
“Our baby Yun is marrying Lion, the Oracle of Orange County,” Andrea whispered dramatically, although there was no one else in the chapel, “in a secret wedding ceremony. This is the most romantic event of the year.”
Looking serious, Andrea adjusted the viewfinder. The camera had a large lens with a petal-shaped hood, and it obscured her small face. “I am now the photographer. Ignore me,” she said, and began snapping pictures.
Yun smiled. If she couldn’t have Mido with her, at least she’d have Andrea.
Lion and Yun took their places at the altar, and in less than fifteen minutes, Sam married them, keeping his homily the length of a decent benediction.
After Lion kissed and embraced Yun, Sam blessed them again.
“Normally I advise against these sorts of private weddings, but I respect your wishes and understand,” Sam said. “You’re both sort of grown up.”
“Lion would never rush into anything,” Andrea said. “So, do you kids feel different?”
“Yes,” Lion said. “I feel different. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Yun was beaming.
“I was twenty when I got married,” Andrea said. “But I was pregnant.” She laughed. “Then it turned out to be a false alarm.”
“I didn’t know that,” Yun said, mildly shocked. “But you have the girls.” She tried to do the math in her head but wasn’t sure when Andrea and Sam had married. Their three girls were already in high school.
“Yup, I got really pregnant with Susie, our first, right after we got married. I trapped him, Yun,” she said, laughing again.
Sam shook his head to deny this. Marriage had been his idea. He couldn’t imagine living one day without her.
Still holding the camera, Andrea wrapped her thin brown arms around her husband’s waist. She was a head shorter than he was.
“Not as gorgeous as your Lion, but my Sam has always been a catch. I think every girl in the English service is in love with either my husband or yours.”
Yun blinked, realizing that Andrea was referring to Lion as her husband.
“Can we buy you lunch?” Sam asked, and Lion smiled.
“Another time. Maybe next week. We’ll take you,” Lion said.
“When will you tell your parents? Both of you?” Sam asked, pausing before saying, “Secrets are not good.”
“I’ve always done what I wanted,” Lion said. “Besides, my folks like Yun a lot, so that helps. It’ll be okay. Just think of all the money we saved them.” He smiled, having figured it all out. “We would’ve gotten married after Yun’s graduation anyway.”
“And you?” Andrea pointed her camera toward Yun. “Your mom and dad?”
Yun glanced at the stained glass window depicting the Transfiguration above the pulpit.
“My father went to Brazil. No one at church knows about him being gone. My mother will be sad about the wedding because, well, you know. She wanted something huge, but I know she’ll understand. I figured it’s best if we just did it, then told them after. This is what I want for my life.”
“You’re an only child, right?” Andrea asked, adjusting the lens.
Yun nodded.
“We could have another wedding later,” Lion said. “Something massive. In the main sanctuary, and invite every Korean in Southern California. Why not?”
Yun smiled, and Andrea snapped another picture.
“Today was beautiful. It was just right. Thank you for making the time,” Yun said.
“Where are you going now?” Sam asked.
“Believe it or not, we’re going back to the hagwon because I have to meet a friend of Bo’s younger brother who’s applying for one of our tutor positions. Then I’m taking my wife away somewhere.” Lion raised his eyebrows with a grin.
Peter Son was waiting with Bo at Exodus. As usual, Lion’s office was free of any clutter. Lion did not leave papers about. At the end of the day, his desk was clear. No half-empty coffee mugs or water tumblers topped the pristine glass coffee table.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined two of the walls, stocked with multiple test guides and reference books about education and child-rearing.
On the walls, there were no diplomas. Rather, Lion had framed and hung black-and-white yearbook pages, photos of high school students from various schools taken after the Korean War that he’d found in an old bookshop on a summer trip to Seoul when he was in college.
Hundreds of boys and girls in dark uniforms and well-pressed white shirts stared out from the gray and sepia images.
Rows and rows of clear-eyed students—their young faces fresh and sober—peered into the camera.
Lion often thought about them and what might have happened in their lives.
A number of them could still be alive, and they could be anywhere in the world, or back in Korea.
When Lion entered his office, Bo and Peter got up from the long sofa along the wall.
“You’re wearing a suit,” Bo remarked, forgetting to introduce Peter. “You don’t even wear one on Sundays.”
“I got married today,” Lion said, smiling.
“To Yun Kim?” Bo blurted out.
“The very same,” Lion said, not mentioning that Yun was waiting for him in the conference room, doing her psychology homework.
Bo was clearly surprised but remembered.
“This is Peter Son, my brother DH’s best friend.”
Lion grinned at the young man, who wore a Chuck Berry T-shirt beneath a black cotton work jacket, blue jeans, and sneakers. His hair was shaved close to the scalp along the sides and back, with long platinum-blond fringes covering his pale forehead. Peter had three piercings in his left ear.
Lion pointed to the image of Chuck Berry playing an electric guitar: “The Father of Rock and Roll.”
“Yep,” Peter said.
“His Gibson ES is the coolest—”
“Gibson ES-355,” Peter corrected him with a small smile.
“Peter Son is a musician,” Bo added. “And a math wizard.”
“Ah. You might need a job, then.” Lion rubbed his hands. “And I need a math wizard. How do you feel about middle school and high school kids?”
Peter smiled. “I prefer kids over adults.”
“Same,” Lion said with conviction. “We’re a mess, but the kids, they’re awesome. You look like a kid yourself, though. How old are you?”
“Twenty-one. You?”
“Twenty-four. I guess we’re sort of big kids. Though I am the oldest in this room,” Lion said with mock gravity. Bo had just turned twenty-two.
Dramatically, Bo bowed to Lion, and Peter followed. Everyone laughed.
“Congratulations, man,” Peter said. “I’m sorry to bother you on your wedding day.”
“Oh, you’re not a bother. Are you kidding me? Bo told me that you’re here just for the day, and I’m desperate for good math teachers—”
“No, no. Our wires must have crossed. Apologies. I’m staying in Irvine for now, and I was coming in to Cypress to see Bo just for the day. If I’d known today was your—”
Lion waved this off. “What do you play?”