The Yuchae Blossom Read online

  Eight

  I AM not gay.

  “The proposed date for the groundbreaking ceremony is May 1. The construction on the Lotus Spa and Wellness Retreat will begin within the month.” The meeting was being held in one of the two larger conference rooms. General Manager Lee Yong-geun moved from the podium to the model of the Seawind’s annex property at the center of tables set up in a U shape. The project was slated for development on land on the eastern slope of Mount Hallasan.

  It was only ever Gavin. I was young, with raging hormones, and there was something about Gavin. The way he moved, the way he talked, the way… he smelled. Soap and clean sweat.

  “We will begin equipment movement two days following the ceremony.”

  …and I loved Nannie…. We had Luke….

  “Jack. Are the permits in place?”

  …but your last two years together you barely touched her….

  “Jack?” GM Lee stood before him on the opposite side of the table where he sat, arms folded.

  “Mmm?” Jack met the GM’s eyes. He didn’t look pleased.

  “They are, General Manager Lee.” Missy to the rescue, again.

  “Sorry. Headache,” Jack lied.

  GM Lee didn’t respond but continued with his presentation.

  Wasn’t it just a phase? All guys go through it at some point during those young and sexually charged, emotionally chaotic years. Right?

  The room suddenly felt extraordinarily warm, and Jack was sweating profusely. He grabbed the glass of water in front of him, almost knocking it over, and downed its contents in one gulp. Feeling Missy’s eyes on him, he turned his head slightly. The look of concern on her face seemed to fuel whatever it was that was happening to him. Suddenly he couldn’t catch his breath, and, standing, he clutched the back of his chair as the room began to spin. His vision grew fuzzy, and the next thing he knew, there was a circle of faces above him, the closest being Missy’s.

  “Jack? Jack!”

  As his focus sharpened, he realized he was on his back on the floor. “Woo-bin… I….”

  “You passed out.” Missy had her hand on his arm.

  “Please move aside. Let them through.” GM Lee’s voice.

  Then the on-site property med team was surrounding him. They sat him up and checked his pulse, blood pressure, and slipped something over the tip of one of his fingers. A small flashlight shone in each eye.

  He began pushing them away. “I’m all right. I’m fine.” He stood with assistance from GM Lee and felt dizzy but otherwise okay.

  “Jack. You need to get checked out. We should go to the hospital.” Missy had his other arm.

  “I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Exasperated.

  “Go home and rest, then, Jack. Take some time. You’ve been working very long hours ever since you arrived,” GM Lee said, nodding.

  “I’ll take the afternoon, but I’ll be back in the morning.”

  He patted Jack on the back. “Don’t make me call the executive director.”

  Jack regarded the GM, who gave him a stern look.

  “Right. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  “One week.”

  Jack huffed but nodded and bowed. His head swam. Did I just bow?

  Missy helped him out to the car waiting at the reception area.

  As it pulled out of the drive, she turned to him. “Well, that was seriously scary.”

  “I just—” He lowered the window a bit and leaned his head back.

  “Jack. What’s going on? This thing with Song Woo-bin.”

  He lifted his head and turned, looking at her. “Were you able to locate him?”

  “No. Seoul is still searching.”

  Jack shuddered as he exhaled, laying his head back against the seat again. “I feel so… guilty.” And confused.

  “You didn’t know that HR would can him, and I’m sorry if I added to that guilt. Don’t worry. We’ll find him, and when we do, I could use an assistant.” She raised her eyebrows, grinning.

  “I want him to stay at the house.” What? “He won’t have anyplace to go.”

  “I’m sure we can find him housing.”

  “I think Choon-hee likes having him around.”

  “Okay. Well, there’s certainly enough room.”

  Jack inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He looked out the window. He could see Mount Hallasan in the distance. He thought about how willing Woo-bin was to please him. His shy lopsided smile. Where are you?

  TWO WEEKS.

  Jack was on-site at the annex property on Mount Hallasan at Saraoreum when he got the call. Missy had found Woo-bin. “Where?”

  “He’s at the Seoul National University Hospital.”

  Jack just stared at a backhoe as it cut into the side of Mount Hallasan as part of the groundbreaking ceremony. The workers all cheered. GM Lee was to his right, smiling. But something didn’t feel right about it. Disturbing this beautiful expanse of gently sloping fields of green and lingering yuchae blossoms.

  “Jack?” The GM squeezed his shoulder.

  “Jack?” Missy called his name for the second time.

  “I have to go.” Turning and leaving the general manager standing there, his mouth open, Jack got into a company pickup and sped off, heading down the mountain. His cell phone was sitting on the passenger’s seat, the call to Missy still connected.

  “Jack…. Jack!”

  He picked it up. “I’m going to Seoul.”

  “Where are you right now?” Missy’s voice was clipped and anxious. “Are you in a car? Are you driving? It sounds like you’re driving. Jack, you don’t have a license.”

  “I took a company pickup. What’s wrong with him, Missy? What happened?”

  “I couldn’t get any information over the phone..”

  “If you want to come with, meet me at the airport.” He hung up. Family. He downshifted and accelerated.

  IT TOOK two hours to get to Incheon National Airport in Seoul. Jack spent the majority of the flight on the air phone with hospital staff and administrators and, through Missy and interpreters, was able to get enough information to know that Woo-bin had been beaten and had several contusions to his face and back of his head. He was unconscious as a result of his injuries and meds given to him to help him stay that way until the slight swelling from a mild concussion had subsided. Dear… God. Jack was silent in the cab ride from the airport, gripping the back of the seat in front of him, watching the road ahead as if he could somehow shorten the distance. When the cab pulled up to the main entrance, he was out and on his way through the automatic doors. Missy paid the driver and ran after him, catching up to him at the elevators.

  “He’s in intensive care. Eighth floor.” Jack ran a hand through his hair.

  Missy watched him as he paced back and forth before the elevators and impatiently waited for the passengers to get off before he entered.

  When the car reached their floor, he was out before the doors had finished opening. He approached the desk with his ID already in hand. “I’m looking for Song Woo-bin.”

  “We’re looking,” Missy said, not hiding the frustration in her voice as she repeated the request in Korean.

  Jack looked at her and taking a deep breath, attempted to calm down. “Yes. We’re looking for Song Woo-bin.”

  The nurse looked at him and then at her screen. “Room 804. That corridor, last door at end. Please to use disinfectant hand gel before entering room.”

  “Gamsahabnida.” Missy nodded, then hurried after Jack, who was already halfway there.

  The room was empty except for Woo-bin and the soft beep of a heart monitor. The lighting was low, but Jack could see his profile—his hair hung across his forehead—and a plastic oxygen cannula trailed from his nose to where it led back behind him, connecting to a port on the wall above his bed. He could feel Missy beside him, but he couldn’t move. She pushed past him and went to stand by Woo-bin’s bed. She reached out and laid her hand on his.

  Jack watched
this and his gut knotted. He turned and left.

  “Jack?” She came through the doorway looking exasperated. “What are you doing?”

  “I….” He covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes.

  “Jack.”

  He pushed off the wall. “If I had just been clearer, more careful, what was I thinking? I obviously wasn’t. I just…” was afraid of….

  “Look. What does it matter at this point anyway? We found him. Let’s concentrate on helping him.”

  “This….” Jack waved a hand around. “I’m paying for it.”

  “I’ll just put him back on the company payroll and date it prior to his hospitalization. The insurance will cover—”

  “No! No. I want to pay for this, Miss. I’m going to.” He looked back into Woo-bin’s room. At him lying there seemingly helpless. I did this. “I need some air.” He headed off down the hall. And disappeared around the corner.

  They spent the next three nights there. Both taking turns sleeping on the small couch along the wall near the windows. Missy had gone out and gotten them hotel rooms near the hospital so they could shower, and bought them both changes of clothes. On the third night, Jack was keeping vigil in the chair by the bed, resting his chin on his arms as he leaned on the raised bed rail. He looked at Woo-bin. He seemed so vulnerable. A nasty bruise marred the once soft and clean skin along his right cheekbone and around the eye, dark and slightly swollen. He tentatively reached up and gently moved the hair that hung over Woo-bin’s left eye. He listened to his breathing, soft and steady. Watched the rise and fall of his chest. “I’m so, so sorry, Woo-bin,” he whispered. Jack’s hand brushed Woo-bin’s. It was cold. He wrapped his hands around it, warming it. Please make him well.

  BEEPING… BEEPING… beeping…. The sound was insistent. What is it? My alarm? Jack opened his eyes. Woo-bin was looking at him from across the room and the sound was his heart monitor. He was awake. Jack had stretched out on the small couch by the window sometime before sunrise on the fourth day, to sleep. It was full daylight now. He met Woo-bin’s eyes as he slowly oriented himself, the sleepiness leaving him. Missy wasn’t there. She must have gone for coffee, he thought. Woo-bin looked away and closed his eyes. Getting up, he went and sat by his bed. “Woo-bin?”

  He opened his eyes. “Seonsaengnim.” Woo-bin coughed, clearing his throat. “Is there…?” He tried looking around and grimaced. “Water, please.”

  Jack filled the glass on the small table beside Woo-bin’s bed and put a straw in it. He handed it to him. Woo-bin attempted to take it, his hands unsteady, and Jack held on to it, helping him get the straw to his mouth.

  “Thank you,” he said, clearing his throat again.

  “More?”

  He shook his head slightly, and Jack placed the glass back on the table. Woo-bin looked at the ceiling. Jack followed his gaze. Light from something beyond the window was reflected there, shimmering.

  “My father. Is he, is he here?”

  “It’s just Missy and me.” Jack looked at the bruise below his right eye. “Woo-bin, what happened?”

  He was quiet. Almost as if he didn’t hear him.

  “Song Woo-bin?”

  He turned his head slightly, looking at Jack. “My brother….”

  “Your brother did this?”

  “He needed money. I gave him what I had, but he tried to take my guitar.”

  “Where was your father?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Woo-bin?”

  He closed his eyes again. “I am very tired, Seonsaengnim.”

  Jack didn’t push. Instead he laid his hand on Woo-bin’s arm. It was cool, and Jack’s hand was warm. He didn’t move his arm away or seem uncomfortable. “Okay. You should sleep, then.” Jack sat with him, watching while he slowly drifted off to sleep, until Missy returned with coffee and breakfast.

  “He’s still sleeping?” she asked, whispering, as she handed Jack a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. “It’s egg and something that looks like sausage.”

  Jack stood and led Missy over to the couch. “He was awake for a bit.”

  “He was? Well, that’s good news.”

  “It was his brother.”

  She stopped midchew. “What?”

  “His brother. He beat him.”

  “My God!” she hissed, trying to keep her voice a whisper.

  “He won’t tell me anything else. He asked for his father. Maybe we should try and find him.”

  “I’ll contact the police and see if they can locate him. Was he there with Woo-bin, Song Woo-bin when it happened? Now you’ve got me doing it.”

  “Not sure. I asked and that’s when he said he wanted to sleep.” Jack looked at Missy. He sighed deeply.

  “Jack. You couldn’t know that any of this was going to happen. Don’t beat yourself up. I’m sure he doesn’t blame you.”

  “Miss. This is my fault.” He bowed his head. “All my fault.”

  “How could any of this be your fault?”

  He was slowly shaking his head.

  “Jack?”

  “I did it. I let him go. He could’ve died.” Standing, he walked partway toward where Woo-bin lay sleeping.

  Missy came and stood by him.

  He smiled briefly. “I will make this right, Miss.” He felt tired but determined. “I will.”

  “I know you will.”

  Then as he looked again at Woo-bin, he said softly, “I wish he thought that.”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  Jack wasn’t so sure.

  WITHIN THREE days they had upgraded Woo-bin’s condition and moved him to another floor. Missy decided to head back to Jeju to deal with business matters that needed attention. Jack remained with Woo-bin. Waiting to take him home. The swelling had decreased, and his wounds were healing. In another four days, he was ready to be discharged, and Jack had a rental car waiting. They had tried to locate Woo-bin’s father, but he wasn’t at the address the police had—the police had no luck finding him, and neither did Chapel security.

  “Choon-hee went to the market, so you know she’s up to something.”

  “Ne.” Woo-bin smiled and nodded, sitting on the edge of his hospital bed, dressed. He was ready and waiting for Jack.

  The transporter arrived with a wheelchair, bowing. Jack nodded. Woo-bin’s was more of a half bow. He said his name was Kwang-sun and asked Woo-bin if he was ready, in Korean. Jack’s Korean was improving. Kwang-sun was shorter than both Jack and Woo-bin but very muscular. Woo-bin, still somewhat weak, tried unsuccessfully to stand, and Kwang-sun moved to help, but Jack was already gently lifting Woo-bin, one hand under each arm, as he guided him to the chair.

  “Thank you.” He sat, lifting his feet so Kwang-sun could drop the footrests.

  Both Kwang-sun and Woo-bin conversed in their native tongue as they rode the elevator. Jack understood some of it, mostly about where he lived. Woo-bin looked at Jack when the transporter asked if his family was on Jeju. He answered, “Ne.” Jack smiled to himself.

  Woo-bin slept most of the five hours it took to drive from Seoul to the ferry, stopping once for dinner and the bathroom. On the ferry over, they both went out on deck to watch the sun set and the stars wink into view. There was no moon, so the canopy looked like indigo-colored cloth sprinkled with crushed glass. They sat side by side, Woo-bin wrapped in a blanket to ward off the chill.

  “Given any thought to what you might like to do?”

  Woo-bin looked at Jack and then back up at the evening sky. “I want to help you, Seonsaengnim.”

  “Well, Missy needs an assistant. Think you could be of help to her? That would help me.” Then Jack regarded him, frowning slightly, but he made his voice light. “And no more of that.”

  He looked at him again, puzzled. “No more of what?”

  “I’d like you to call me Jack. I don’t care who is around or who hears it. They can take it up with me if there’s a problem. ’K?”

  Woo-bin seemed to ponder this for a bi
t. “Yes, Jack.” His smile looked uncomfortable.

  Jack had the urge to put his arm around him and pull him close. He resisted.

  “Look.” Woo-bin pointed past the bow. Jeju was outlined in the last vestiges of postsunset. Deep amber and pink, rimmed in purple.

  “Almost home.” Jack sighed.

  “Almost home.” Woo-bin’s voice was husky with emotion.

  Jack leaned into him, shoulder to shoulder. Woo-bin didn’t move away, and they sat like that until they reached the port.

  “WE’RE HOME!” Jack held the door for Woo-bin as he ambled in.

  Choon-hee came from the kitchen, and Woo-bin bowed. She grasped his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “You’re here.”

  “Ne.” He smiled, taking a deep breath.

  “Come. Eat. Potato stew and kimchi. I know, is your favorite.” She took him by the arm, one hand on the small of his back, and led him toward the kitchen. Looking over her shoulder, she nodded to Jack, her look soft and approving.

  Jack watched them until they were out of sight, and then he listened as they began to converse in Korean—Choon-hee chiding him good-naturedly and Woo-bin’s soft laughter as he protested. How could he not have noticed any of this before? The eyes see only what the mind believes until the heart speaks. He went to the car to get Woo-bin’s bag and his guitar, and as he did, he was overwhelmed, and the tears came.

  Nine

  “HEY, BOSS. How are ya and Gram and Pop?”

  “Good. Pop’s got a cold, but he’s okay. They’re out at the Elks.”

  His mother and father had been members of the Elks since he and his sister, Jenna, were very young. “Did they leave you with a sitter?”

  “Hey, Jacky.” Jenna popped into view behind Luke.