Hiding Spot Caroline Kim (bio) It was a good hiding spot. Too good. Mrs. Lee stood in her closet with her hands on her hips, squeezing her eyes shut, telling herself to “think, think.” She could almost see it, see herself folding tissue paper around her wedding rings, pushing them down into a blue velvet pouch that also held her wedding pearls and a white jade ring passed down from her mother. Yes, she could almost even feel herself pulling the yellow drawstring tightly closed and putting it all . . . where? In a box? Under something? In something? Scornfully, she remembered congratulating herself for picking such a good hiding spot because no one would think to look there. She felt like a character in a folktale, an old fool, tripped up by her own cleverness. It was only three months ago that she had hidden her jewelry, in the days before she and Mr. Lee went on a cruise to Alaska. They weren’t the vacationing type, but one day while Mr. Lee was reading the Chosun Ilbo online, he saw an ad for a cruise line offering incredible deals. “It’ll feel like we’re losing money if we don’t go,” he said. The only catch was that the cruise left in just a few days from Seattle. No problem. Isn’t this why they’d retired from their dry-cleaning business the year before? They certainly didn’t have to worry about anyone missing them. Not a single person would be affected if they left at a moment’s notice. So they flew from Atlanta to San Francisco to Seattle and spent a week in a tiny, closet-sized room with no windows, disembarking in the mornings to take other, smaller boats out to where they took pictures of melting glaciers and smelly, wild-looking sled dogs. Mr. Lee couldn’t sleep because of the nonstop humming of the ship which Mrs. Lee hardly noticed. While he spent hours lying in their tiny room watching Korean dramas and reading newspapers on his laptop, Mrs. Lee sat out on the top deck watching people brave the chilly air to swim in the pools or sit in the foamy waters of the hot tub, which Mr. Lee called “people soup.” The only good parts were the entertainment and the profligate amount of food on the ship, which Mrs. Lee found unnerving though it did not stop her nor Mr. Lee from stuffing themselves at all hours of the day and night. When they returned home, Mrs. Lee didn’t look for her rings right away. But on the evening they were invited to a dol by the Chois, whose plump grandson was turning one, Mrs. Lee discovered she couldn’t remember where she’d hidden her rings. At first she didn’t worry. Her memory had just turned shy, refusing to reveal what she needed to know when she was too focused on it. This had happened to [End Page 134] her her whole life. Thinking too much about one thing made it flee instead of getting it nailed down. She figured the pouch would turn up eventually when she was looking for something else. But now there was an urgency. She needed to find her rings because Ken had showed up the night before, with a girl, no less. Ken, the son she hadn’t seen for two years. ________ Mrs. Lee moved quietly through the house because Ken and the girl were still sleeping. Mr. Lee was at the YMCA getting in his laps before the pool became crowded. Their new house was a lot smaller than their last; they had downsized a year back after taking a good long look at their finances. But the two of them were fine in a small bungalow with just the two bedrooms, the larger one for sleeping, the smaller one as Mrs. Lee’s craft room, where Ken and his girl were now sleeping. She kept a bookcase of yarn and a sewing machine on a desk in there, a comfortable chair where she knit hats and blankets, sewed baby-sized quilts for her church to donate. But there...
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