13 #2
Also, when she saw the heroes being good and kind even though the world was unjust, she rooted for the heroes and wanted the villains to be punished. In life, she rooted for her students at the hagwon, wanting them to succeed against all the odds that seemed impossible, too.
At Exodus, the students were often poor kids without sitters whose parents had to work, who had no one to watch them.
Some of the parents wanted their kids to do well, but most just wanted their kids to have a safe space to do homework and not be lonely at home.
The parents trusted a Korean place because they couldn’t speak English, and there was nowhere else to put their kids.
Yun stared at the dark screen, and it occurred to her that what she couldn’t find herself saying, even to her husband, her best friend, was that she missed Korea.
She missed ordinary Koreans—the ones on the street, on the trains, in her schools.
She missed hearing the language. Her parents had decided to leave without considering her feelings or ever asking if it was okay.
Her father was still in Brazil, of all places in the world, and she wondered if he had learned Portuguese, or if he still spoke with that heavy Gyeongsang-do accent that made him seem like he was from the country when they lived in Seoul.
She suddenly wanted to see her father, and Yun started to cry.
Lion looked alarmed and took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know. It’s not you. Hormones. I’ll watch it later. Besides, I need to get Ginny’s room ready for when she comes home tomorrow.”
On Ginny’s first night back for winter break, Lion was working late at Fortress. Yun and Ginny ate dinner quickly to have more time to trim the tree.
“Hang on, I have something for you,” Ginny said. She ran into her bedroom and brought out a shopping bag.
“Aren’t I supposed to wait for Christmas?”
“I got my first paycheck.”
“What?”
“From my job at school.”
“You have a job at school?”
“It’s at the library. They’re basically paying me to study. I hardly do anything. I’m like a security guard for books.”
“I could increase your allowance,” Yun said.
“No, no. I want to work. I’m going to send money to my folks.”
Yun covered her mouth. “Oh? Are they okay?”
Ginny shrugged. “Same old same old. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Yun wondered if Ginny was also sending her allowance to her parents.
“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” she said. “I don’t have anything for Lion Teacher this time, but I didn’t think he’d want this.”
When Yun opened her eyes, she saw the shoebox inside the paper bag.
“Sneakers?”
“No. I didn’t have any other box, and my roommate had this. Open it.”
Inside the box lined with white tissue paper was a Louis Vuitton wallet.
Yun opened her mouth in surprise.
“It’s not real. My friend went to Korea, and she got this for me at Itaewon.
She said it was the nicest fake. It’s a practice gift.
One day, when I become a doctor, I’ll get you a real one, and a handbag.
I just wanted to get you something with my first paycheck.
You and Lion Teacher have been so good to me. ”
“You don’t have any extra money.”
“You have that canvas wallet that’s falling apart. I wanted to get you a real designer wallet, and I will one day.”
“I don’t need any of that stuff. I don’t mind my wallet at all. You know I never buy designer things. I have everything I need. I’m so glad you’re doing well in school. You have no idea how grateful we are that you’re doing well.”
“You don’t like it?” Ginny looked concerned. The wallet had cost her $100, which had taken her a whole weekend to earn. A real one cost almost $1,000, her friend had told her.
“No, no, no.” Yun shook her head. “This is the nicest wallet I ever had. You can’t get me a real one because I have this one now. I’ll carry it forever.”
“You deserve a real one, Yun Teacher. I wouldn’t have anything without you and Lion Teacher. I know my tuition at school is so expensive. I’m going to pay you back.”
“Oh, Ginny. You’re our blessing. You’re our gift from the Lord. I get to share you with your parents,” she said, her voice quavering. Everything made her cry.
Yun sat down on the child’s bed, clutching the brown-and-beige wallet.
She had never wanted designer things. When she was growing up, her mother had yearned for them desperately.
When they’d had money, every item in the house was imported or known to be a high-status object.
Then, when all the money was gone, everything had turned out to be worth a fraction of what her mother had paid.
Now and then her mother still bought expensive things, and whenever Yun gave her mother extra money, she spent it on designer clothes or accessories to wear to the shop.
Yun never chided her mother, because the woman had suffered and had not given up on them.
Like a character from a melodrama, her mother still waited for her father to return to her with a good job, an armload of gifts, and a heartfelt apology, and Yun felt fairly certain that this would never come to pass.
Yun looked into her eyes.
“Thank you, my dear, dear Ginny.”
The child she had taken in was training to be a supernatural wonder, so she could rescue everyone, and Yun wept for all of them.