Kimchi And Calamari Part 16

"Describing yourself as an ethnic sandwich was funny and honest, Joseph. You seem to understand your layers better than most people."

"I'm trying," I said, shrugging.

"And I would agree that being adopted, as you wrote, must raise a 'boatload of questions that don't have easy answers.' You've shown insight that, for some, takes a lifetime to discover."

Mrs. Peroutka was spreading the compliments so thick I felt bad for all the times I'd slept in her cla.s.s. I vowed never to doze off in social studies again-at least not in the remaining two weeks.

Just as I charged out of the room so I wouldn't miss the bus, Mrs. Peroutka called me back.

"One more thing, Joseph. I'd like to display your essay on the bulletin board, if you're okay with that. The unit is over, but I think your cla.s.smates would enjoy reading what you wrote."

"Sure."

"Your writing showed courage and honesty. Even Sohn Kee Chung would be pleased," she added with a smile.

"Hey, Mrs. Nash, is Pete home?" I shouted from the driveway after school. He hadn't been on the bus, and I really wanted to talk to him.

Mrs. Nash was watering the flowerpots on her front stoop. She was still dressed in her nurse's uniform. "He's out back, cleaning the pool."

I unlocked the gate. "What's up, bro?" I called.

"I've got strange but true news, Joseph," he said with a grin.

"What, did Frankie get a date for the dance?"

"Believe it or not, he did. Molly Palanski said yes on a dare, poor girl. But that's not it."

"I give up."

He was grinning. "I just got back from a doctor's appointment. I cracked the case of what's causing my migraines. Even my neurologist thinks I'm right."

"What is it then?"

"Potatoes! Plain old potatoes. Can you believe it?"

I thought about all the gallons of mashed potatoes that he'd eaten over the years. I could only imagine his mom's shock at the news.

"Talk about a cruel twist of fate," I said. "But it could have been worse. What if you'd been allergic to candy?"

Nash said he was registered for summer baseball for the first time in two years. "And I might even be able to play hockey next year if I lay off the taters."

"Awesome! I've got news too. You and Ok-hee better save room on the dance floor for Robyn and me." I jumped on the picnic table and started doing my best macarena moves.

"You won her over?" Nash's eyes twinkled.

"Yup. And I didn't use one single joke," I said, patting my own back. "I owe you, too, man. For talking me up with Robyn."

"Both our dates were collaborative efforts," Nash said, using a deep spy voice.

"Never use that word 'collaborative.' It's too teacher-ish," I said, and we both laughed.

Nash said that he and Ok-hee would be riding to the dance with her brother. "You'll never believe who Yongsu's taking," he said.

"Whitney the Wordless Word Queen?"

He nodded. "Did he tell you?"

"Just a hunch. Yongsu didn't say a word. And we both know Whitney's a good speller but a lousy talker!"

Nash finished cleaning the pool and tossed the skimmer on the gra.s.s. "Want to swim?"

"Sure," I said. Nash belly flopped in and I followed, causing a tidal wave that drenched the picnic table.

I was wearing jean shorts, but I didn't care. In fact, we made so much noise acting like caffeinated dolphins that Mrs. Nash came out and offered us snacks just to get us out of the water.

Close to dinnertime, I dried off and put on my sneakers.

Nash crossed his arms over his chest, hesitated, and then spoke. "I'm sorry about the search, Joseph. That it didn't work out."

I shrugged. "It's not your fault, Nash. The odds weren't with us that the right person would read my posting."

To use Mom-speak, I'd taken a chill pill. I wasn't even mad at my birth mother anymore, whatever her name is. I mean, it's not like I got s.h.i.+pped to Slumsville, USA.

"It's up to you, Joseph. But if you want to keep searching, well, I'm here and I charge reasonable rates."

I smiled and told Nash I'd keep that in mind.

As I walked up my driveway in my dripping wet shorts, I figured out why I've always loved Spider-Man. Throughout his whole life Peter Parker tried, but never uncovered, what happened after his parents disappeared behind the Iron Curtain as spies. It always bugged him that he couldn't get to the truth, and, yeah, a couple of times he followed false leads, thinking he'd found his parents when he hadn't. Still, it didn't stop him from being the coolest. Even better than Superman, if you ask me. Sure, Superman is invincible-nothing but a wad of kryptonite can take him out. But Spider-Man, well, he started out human like the rest of us. And he rights the world using his web slinging and wisecracking.

Besides, my birth mother didn't go behind the Iron Curtain. She probably never even left her village in Korea. Someday I might find her. And this time I'll be sure to ask what religion she is first.

Why Not Both?

"Don't drop those Whoppers," Dad called that evening as I followed him to a table in the back of Burger King, where Mom was waiting with Gina and Sophie. Since Dad still had his cast on, I was the designated carrier. And this was the mother of all fast-food trays, piled high with supersized drinks, burgers, fries, and lots of ketchup in paper cups.

"Where's my fish fillet?" Sophie asked, scanning the wrapped burgers.

Mom dug it out from under the pile and pa.s.sed it to her.

I looked at Sophie's sandwich and grasped at my chest. "How dare you eat a fish that was so cruelly hooked, skinned, and fried!"

"Not funny, Joseph. And neither is killing cow mothers in front of their puppies."

"Calves, Sophie," Dad said, biting into his burger. "If you're going to be an animal rights activist, at least get the names straight."

Sophie was still on her animal cruelty kick. Was she a born-again vegan or was this a pa.s.sing second-grade fad? Only time would tell. Time and Mom's risotto and sausage, which so happened to be Sophie's favorite meal.

After they'd finished, Sophie and Gina ran over to play on the indoor jungle gym. I got up to get more ketchup. Like Dad, I use tons of the stuff.

"By the way, Joseph. Nonna and Nonno Calderaro are flying up next week for your moving-up ceremony," Mom said.

"Great! We haven't seen them since Christmas," I said.

Dad sipped his shake. "Nonno wouldn't miss your last drum solo in middle school. He bought himself a digital camera so he could e-mail your picture to all his golf buddies in Florida. Don't be surprised if he makes copies of your report card and that terrific essay to show off too. Those old fellows like to one-up each other."

"Ah yes, Compet.i.tive Grandparents Duke it Out in Florida. Now that's a reality show," I said, drumming my fingertips against the edge of the table.

Dad laughed. "Nonno's proud of you, Joseph; we all are. What a way to end the year: a band solo and high honors for your grades. High school will suit you well."

"Speaking of suits, I permed Donnalee Carleton's hair this afternoon," Mom said.

I gulped down a mouthful of fries. "As in Robyn's mother?" Guess Mom knows who I'm taking to the Farewell Formal on Friday!

"Robyn's grandmother."

"I meant to tell you that I asked Robyn to the dance, Mom. It just happened today."

"Don't worry, I knew before my two o'clock appointment showed up. Robyn called Mrs. Carleton from the school pay phone, and her mother called Donnalee on her cell phone while she was sitting under the dryer. The Carletons are nice people. Donnalee's a great tipper, too."

Dad winked at me. "See? You were yourself and you got the girl."

"Yup, I let my true colors show. Like Caruso."

"How 'bout we go to the mall after school tomorrow and get you a suit?" Dad asked.

"Works for me," I said, with my mouth full.

"Get a dark color," Mom added. "The way things are going with Aunt Foxy and Dominick, you might need it for a winter wedding."

I nodded. "Dominick can marry Aunt Foxy as long as he gets me tickets to a Yankees game."

"Gets us both tickets," Dad said, and I high-fived his good arm.

I grabbed a handful of Mom's fries, and she pushed the rest over to me.

"I was telling Mom that I checked out the college library today," Dad said.

Dad likes libraries as much as I like comic book stores, so that was nothing new.

"And while I was there, I did some research on Korea and adoption searching," he added.

I stopped chewing.

"Turns out they offer these group tours, for families and adoptees wanting to visit their birthplace."

I started chewing again, but quietly, so I wouldn't miss a word.

"The tour groups don't guarantee they can reunite adoptees with birth families, but they can connect us with Korean agencies that do these kinds of searches. Korea used to be close-lipped about this stuff, but that's changing."

"So we'll go to Pusan?" I asked. Whoa, was this my dad or an alien impostor?

"That's right. We'll do our best to track down your birth relatives, and we'll see the city you're from."

"With other adopted kids?"

"Sure, kids and their families. These tours aren't cheap, but I'm thinking we'll go the summer before your junior year. That's only two years out, and by then I'll be halfway done with my bachelor degree and ready for a vacation. Just think, you and me-Pusan bound," he said, grinning.

In my whole life, Dad and I never traveled anywhere together, just us.

"Count me in." I looked over at Mom. Her eyes sparkled in a way that said it all: See, Joseph, he does care.

"You're in, son. Start saving your allowance for kimchi dinners. I read that Koreans have their own version of calamari, too." Dad s.n.a.t.c.hed some of Mom's fries from my pile.

He remembered about kimchi. We'd love kimchi and calamari!

"Before you two jet-setters book airfare, I want dates and times so I can check the astrology charts," she said. "Laugh all you want, but no way are you flying on a bad day for a Taurus or a Scorpio."

My deja-vu dream returned that night. Only this time, there was a guest star. A man running up ahead on the dirt road slowed down and called me. "Joseph!"

I stared at him. Finally a face that wasn't fuzzy. It was Sohn Kee Chung!

"Good work," he said, jogging in place beside me now and gesturing toward my wagon. "You're almost there. Keep pulling."

"But where am I going?" I asked.

The sunlight flickered against something around his neck. His gold medal. "Where do you want to go?" he asked.

I shrugged, confused.

"Pusan is waiting for you, Joseph. Naples and Florence, too. You don't want to miss any of it. I'm glad I went to Germany."

"But..."

"Happy traveling, Joseph," he said, patting my back before he took off again.

"Thanks, Sohn...Grandpa," I called in the faintest whisper.

A small brown package came addressed to me in the mail on the day of the Farewell Formal. Mom was out running errands when I opened it. The St. Louis return address gave it away: I didn't know anyone who lived there but Jae.

Inside was a small envelope, wrapped in bubble wrap, and a letter written on flowery stationery.

Dear Joseph, I know we're not blood related, but I haven't been able to let you go. The thought of being your cousin brought me great joy.