"I don't know no So-fee," her mother insisted, hands on hips. "I only have one daughter. Her name So-hie. I tell person on phone, we got no So-fee here."
"Great, Mom, thanks. Now he knows I have a psycho for a mother." Sophie kept her voice down. Though she was obviously annoyed, Sophie was hardly surprised. She only wished she hadn't been busy out front and had been the one to answer the phone.
"You no talk to you mother this way. You show respect to you mother. You a bad girl," her mother told her, wagging her finger in Sophie's face.
Sophie's father walked by, on his way back from the kitchen with supplies for the sushi bar.
"Did you hear what your daughter just said to me?" Mrs. Kyung told him, effortlessly shifting to Korean.
"Show you mother respect. You must respect you mother," Mr. Kyung told his daughter, his mouth moving robotically in a practised rhythm while he sought to remove himself as quickly as possible from the scene.
Suddenly, Myung Kyung stopped berating her daughter. A thought had just occurred to her. "Who is this boy who call you?" she asked. "Is he Korean?"
"Carlos is not Korean, no mother. And before you ask, he's just a friend. We're going to a concert on Tuesday." Myung scowled, apparently not believing her daughter. Before her mother could lecture her on being a "good girl" in the more social sense, that "good husbands," meaning Korean men, would only accept "good" girls as wives, Sophie decided to head her off. "He's gay, Mom. You have nothing to worry about."
Myung's mouth froze open. Sophie could read the thoughts moving across her brain like a teletype. Her daughter was now associating with deviants. Fortunately the needs of the customers out front spared Sophie any further 3rd degree. It was lunchtime, and the usual crowd of attendees attracted to the all-you-can-eat Korean and sushi buffet came to Sophie's rescue. Kevin, her brother, who was furiously working the sushi bar, called for help.
Shaking her head, Myung was speechless, but only for the briefest of moments. Taking in the crowd at a glance, she at once saw something else to complain about. Sophie, without looking out, knew at once that one over her favorite regulars had sat down at a table out front.
"Oh, that bike boy, he here again."
Putting on her apron, Sophie smiled.
"He no have money, he no eat here. You don't pay for him. That money for you college."
Sophie shook her head. "Mom, what I do with my tip money is my own business. Besides, it was only that one time," she lied.
Myung gave up and went to help her regulars, while Sophie did the same. A number of young men smiled and sat up straight, ignoring the buffet for table service; until Myung showed up to take their orders. Suddenly, the buffet was popular again. Sophie smiled at them, said "Hi" a number of times, but headed straight for Winston's table. Winston, a bike messenger who had been friends with Sophie all through high school, was pouring over odd bills and coins he had received as tips. Winston was dyslexic, or something. He wasn't stupid. In fact, though her family didn't believe her, Sophie insisted he was a genius. Countering that argument was the fact that Winston always seemed to have a hard time figuring out how much money he had and was at a disadvantage when dealing with strangers because of this. For some reason, he could never get over the fact that paper money was worth more, not less, than coins. As a result, Winston was often hungry, especially just before payday. So he haunted cheap buffets. Since he ate like a horse, he was notoriously unwelcome at most.
"Hi Sophie," he said, not looking up. His short wild red hair moved around in circles as he tried to fathom his riches.
Like Sophie, Winston seemed to be able to take in a scene at a glance. He always knew when she was around, just like she knew he was around. He was still trying to count out his money, seeing if he had enough for lunch. He sighed and pushed everything he had, a dollar bill and a large bunch of coins, over to her. They were mostly nickels and pennies. Sophie mentally calculated and figured he had only $3.54. Lunch buffet was $6.50.
"Do I have enough?" he asked hopefully.
"Plenty," Sophie said, scooping the dollar and several nickels, dimes, and pennies into her apron. "Here's your change," she told him, quickly handing him two twenties from yesterday's tip money while her mother wasn't looking. Kevin saw what she was doing and shook his head. But he said nothing. He wasn't going to rat on her, she knew that. Winston nodded. It made sense, paper in return for coins as change.
Winston was making for the buffet but Sophie reminded him to put his money back in his pocket first. "That money is only good at the grocery store," Sophie told him, figuring it would go farther there than if he tried to use it for meals out.
"Ah, OK. Hey, nice pendant." He pointed at her medallion, the one she wore around her neck. She had dressed in a hurry and forgotten to tuck it in. It was an obviously old, rather ugly charm, made of gold and small rubies and flecks of jade. It was covered with numerous Chinese glyphs, some too small to read.
"You like it? I think it's ugly, but my Mom made me wear it when I was a little girl. It's a valuable family heirloom. And now I'm kind of used to it. I keep it under my shirt though."
Winston reached out to touch it. His hand snapped back from it like it was red hot.
"What's the matter," she asked him.
"Nothing," he said, sucking his fingers. "But I think your mother was right. You should keep it close. It's a... a sort of good luck charm."
"Yeah, she told me I have to wear it all the time. I never take it off."
"That's a good idea," Winston nodded. "I'm glad to hear it."
"Why do you say that? Why do you care what I wear?"
Winston's eyes darted quickly down to the scars on the side of Sohie's hands. He shrugged. "A little extra protection never hurts. That charm has some powerful mojo on it. It will keep you safe from all the wrong sorts of people."
"Yeah?" Sophie looked at the medallion closer. "Says who?"
"It says so, right there." Winston vaguely pointed, not letting his hand get too close.
"Oh, so you read ancient Chinese?"
"It's a lot older than Chinese," he cryptically told her, not offering any more.
Sophie sensed that Winston wasn't being entirely forthright. This was unlike him. Before she could question him further, he smiled and took off for the buffet. She had to attend to other customers and by the time she made her rounds again, he had gone. He had left Sophie his usual tipe, her favorite orchid; and probably pilfered from a bouquet he had delivered.
Having helped Kevin with cleanup, having counted her tips, given her brother half, plus his share for the money she gave Winston, Sophie was getting ready to leave for the Bay Area. She told her Mom that she had morning classes and needed to study. Truth was, school term hadn't started yet. Sophie just couldn't take more than a weekend at home anymore. Myung was counting the intake from lunch in the back storeroom. Sophie gave her father a hug and knocked on the door, to say good-bye to her mother.
"Mom, I'm leaving," she announced in Korean
Her mother got up, as if in a big rush. She picked up a wad of cash. "You need any money?"
The plight of children they were helping tempted her for a moment. But given all they had sacrificed for their children, Sophie could not bring herself to take anything from her parents, who worked hard for everything they had. "No, Mom, I'm good. I'll see you next week."
Myung had been wrestling with a dilemma all afternoon. This would be her last opportunity to talk in person to So-hie for a week, so she finally let it off her chest. "This Carlos, are you sure he is gay?" She spoke in Korean in case Kevin overheard. Kevin's lack of Korean fluency was a source of shame most of time. But it had its uses as well.
"Yes, Mom, I'm sure."
"How do you know? Maybe he just pretending to be gay, trying to get you be his friend. Pretty girls like you, you have to watch out for these guys."
"Mom, I'd be his friend anyway. And you're right. I don't know he's gay. His boyfriend could be lying to me."
Myung thought about this, frowning. "You should have... different kind of friends."
Sophie was not going to let her mother get away with what she had just said."Different, Mom? Different how?" Sophie tried to be avoid confronting her mother, usually just deflecting whatever was the issue. But this was getting to be too much.
"You should have more... Korean friends. Don't you know any Korean boys?"
Sophie had tried to be good. She wasn't going to mention it, being as it was, kind of a cheap shot at her mother. But Myung deserved it. And the chance was now too good to pass up.
"O.K. Mom, I do know a Korean boy and we hang out a lot. He's gorgeous, smart, sweet, comes from a," Sophie ticked off in order the things that mattered most to her mother, "Korean, Christian, rich, Republican family. I wasn't going to tell you, but you dragged it out of me."
Myung's face lit up, beaming. She looked positively saintly with joy. "How long have you known this boy? Why haven't you told me before? Why haven't you brought him down to meet us? Do you have a picture of him?"
"I met him when I first got to Stanford. Carlos introduced us. We study together sometimes. I cook him Korean food when he gets homesick."
The look on Myung's face said she had bypassed the Pearly Gates and was already in Heaven. Her daughter was cooking a Korean man Korean food. Where she came from, the marriage ceremony would only be a formality.
"He's Carlos' boyfriend."
Myung's jaw dropped down even farther than it had earlier.
"So, don't worry, Mom. I got that Korean angle covered now. You can tell your Korean church friends not to worry, OK?"
Myung started rubbing her temples. She started to sigh, a lot.
"You want me to bring him by sometime? I can bring him to church, introduce him to the pastor. Can Carlos come? You should see them. They are so cute together. If ever two people belonged..."
"No, that's O.K." Myung said. "You have good trip back."
Sophie pecked Myung on the cheek, feeling a bit guilty for so loudly popping her mother's joy bubble. Still, it had been really fun.
Sophie left and then abruptly came back. Her mother was sitting at the desk, her face in her hands.
"C'mon, Mom. Cheer up. I know I'm an old maid at 19. But there's still hope that Kevin will give you grandchildren - if he hasn't already."
"Did you come back to make fun of me? If so, I really think I've had enough of your sarcasm. No other mothers have to put up with daughters like you. What did I ever do to deserve you?"
Sophie came around and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Mother. I was just teasing you a bit. I promise, next year I'll get pregnant, then married. Right now, I have a question for you. What do you know about this?" Sophie showed her mother the pendant.
"You still wearing that ugly thing? I thought you'd lost it. It's hideous. You should get rid of it. It looks terrible on you."
Sophie blinked. "Wow, that's a surprise. You told me this is a family heirloom. You gave it to me when I was seven. You told me to never take it off, ever. You said it would be misfortune on the family to loose it."
"No, it's some silly charm. I never told you it was an heirloom."
Sophie remembered distinctly she had, and told Sophie never to loose it. Maybe since Myung had converted to Christianity, she felt a bit guilty about her Old World superstitions, and that had influenced her memory.
"I bought it as a present for you. I don't know what I was thinking. You certainly don't deserve it."
"Really? Huh. Well, if it's not an heirloom, do you want it back?" Sophie started to take it off.
"No! No!" Myung said, leaning in her chair, as if to get away from the misshapen medallion. "You keep it. Get rid of it if you want to. But I don't want it!"
"O.K. Mom. Chill." Sophie put the medallion back. "Do you remember where you bought it?"
"Some street vendor, in Korea. I really don't remember."
"Korean street merchants sell ruby gold medallions? Sure." Sophie shook her head. "O.K. Thanks, Mom. I'll see you Saturday." She kissed her mother on the cheek and left.
Sophie stopped at a phone booth just on the edge of town. She had taken the medallion off her neck for the first time since she was a little girl. She twirled it in her hands while the phone was ringing. Someone answered.
"Hey, Nickie, guess what? That money, I think I got us the answer."
The afternoon sun glinted off the charm's metal and gemstone brilliance so fiercely, it was as though Sophie held a star in her hand.
story by Solanio