Page 39 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 1-4
Damian turned to Richard. “I think I’ll pay his company a visit now.”
Richard raised an eyebrow. Damian turned his phone so Richard could see Bryce’s text. With Richard watching, Damian went into Jun’s text stream and tapped out:
Jun started and stopped texting several times. Finally, he wrote back.
Damian shot a note off to Collin. With the virtual team or Ash behind him, someone would have a number for Gigi soon.
Collin wrote back in less than ten minutes.
Damian saved it in his contacts and shot off a text.
Damian forced himself to turn off his screen. He looked out the window at the passing landscape, barely seeing it. On his own, he usually took the train. Traversing the same region by car was different but not novel enough to override the tension in his belly
It was ten long minutes of waiting before his phone buzzed. He picked it up, hopeful.
Unknown number:
It was badly spelled. He had to read it twice to be sure he had the words right.
Not today, Satan. Damian mentally smacked himself. He hit block on the number and slid it into his pocket. Now there was an entirely new reason that he couldn’t see the landscape sweeping past the window of the SUV. There was another face in his memory. One of the last times he’d seen that man in person, his face had been covered in blood. Blood Damian had put there.
Most times of the year, he could forget he had a family of origin, people tied to him outside of the family The Residency had grafted him into, but as Dalia had more children with birthdays hitting more months and then always during the Christmas season, the ties reawakened with the slightest touch of contact. If he was quiet enough, they seemed to forget he existed. When he sent gifts, they suddenly remembered he was gone.
If only they would just take the money and be content.
Some therapist from the past surfaced in his mind with a reminder. Money is energy. Where you spend it matters.
What good was he even doing sending the money? It wasn’t enough to change anything. It just…
It was penance.
I’m sorry. I got out. I don’t know how to rescue you. Forgive me for surviving. I care about the kids even if you don’t let me know them. Even if I can’t stand to be close enough to you to get to know them.
His phone buzzed again.
More slowly, he looked down again.
Gigi:
Damian:
Gigi: She finished the message with a screenshot of a map with a portion of the Cheonggyecheon Stream circled. It was near a waterfall. He knew the place well.
Damian checked his location and texted Gigi back.
Richard read over Damian’s arm. “We should separate vehicles. Mung, could you ask the drivers to pull over somewhere soon?”
“You’ll meet Mi Hi for me?” Damian asked.
Richard nodded. His eyes met Damian’s, soft in a way that Damian knew he reserved for only certain situations. “We’ll be waiting for you.”
Damian left his bag with Richard and took only his briefcase. There wasn’t much in it, but it looked official.
Cheonggyecheon Stream was a beautiful place of impermanence, a natural stream that ran below the level of the buildings, streets, and corridors around it. In previous decades, it had been paved over, but with the revival of the surrounding city, the stream had been given back its bed, updated, structured, beautified with art, and allotted a space in which its waters could once again bring life to the city. In the summer, as Damian had often seen it, birds and fish were in plentiful supply, and some sections had small water grasslands while at others the cement steps of the meandering park built on its banks dropped all the way to the lip of the water. Old men fished quietly and children crouched on the edge of the water, pointing to things below the surface. Women in sandals made their way across the water, moving from one cement pillar to another, while the water flowed beneath them, their tops solid steps on the very surface of the stream that still allowed free movement of everything aquatic.
Cheonggyecheon was no less beautiful if less obviously populated during December. The sun had just set, and colored lights and Christmas decorations accented the cooler beauty of cool stream and pale stone bridges.
Gigi stood at the end of one of these bridges, arms crossed under her bosom. She was as dark as Damian himself, but dressed in loose white hip-hop pants with extra belts. They were done up in drawstrings at the ankles, making them billow out over her matching white sneakers. Her top was black and cropped, and she wore a leather harness over it, threaded with sparkly white shoe strings through a variety of grommets. Her puffy cropped coat hung low around her shoulders and open all the way to the waist where the zipper barely held it together. Her hair was braided to her head in two thick Dutch braids starting at the center of her forehead and rolling back to either side of her neck behind her ears. A white knitted hat hung off the back of her head. Small silver hoops in her ears reflected back the festive lights, changing color with each movement she made. She saw Damian almost as fast as he saw her. It wasn’t like there were a lot of people who looked like either one of them.
