by DAVID YOO
There was a cold snap last week, and we hunkered indoors. Late in the week, however, the kids were officially going stir-crazy, and on top of this, we were running out of milk. So, after a trip to the library (the kids were thrilled to be out!), I took them on a hasty milk run before heading home. The outing was totally worth it, but given that the kids were bundled up in several layers of winter clothes, getting them in and out of their car seats was a serious hassle. What normally takes seconds took several minutes. I could barely buckle my daughter into her seat because of her thick coat.
Which is why, when I pulled into the gas station to pick up the milk, I decided to, for the first time ever, leave the kids in the car. It wasn’t a hot summer day, and I parked in full view of the big window so I’d be able to see them the whole time. And of course, I locked the car. Why turn a 30-second pit stop into a 10-minute affair, I figured?
It was all going according to plan. In 15 seconds I’d rushed in, grabbed the milk, gotten in line, all the while waving at my kids, who were cheerfully returning the gesture. And, then, the voice of judgment rang out. “Who left their two children in the car by themselves?” an older woman demanded.
People in line looked around for the culprit. I was mortified, but even more appalled at this brazen act of aggression by this stranger.
“First of all, my kids are just fine,” I said through clenched teeth. “The doors are locked, I can see them the whole time, and my wife is with them anyway, so maybe you should keep quiet.”
Boom. Roasted. I paid for the milk, and shook my head in disgust at the jerk as I exited. When I reached the car, I realized everyone was staring out the window. At me. And my car with two kids in it. And no wife in view. In that instant, I thought, that nosy woman can’t win! So I glanced around, calling my wife’s name. I even put my hands to my mouth, so those inside could tell I was calling her name. Then I pretended to make a phone call as I rushed back inside, checking the aisles for my “missing” wife.
“Are you serious?” I said into the phone. “OK, sit tight,” I muttered, heading back out. I didn’t look at the window once as I put the car in gear and drove across the street, dramatically waving out the window as if trying to flag down my wife, who in my fabricated story, had absentmindedly ditched the kids and run across the street for pizza. I figured after a few minutes in the pizzeria parking lot, I could just drive off, and no one would be the wiser.
“Why are we parked here?” my son asked me.
“What’s important is that we’re together,” I said to him.
___
Featured image via Grocery Headquarters
David Yoo is the author of YA novels Girls for Breakfast (Delacorte), a NYPL Best Book for Teens and a Booksense Pick, Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before (Hyperion), a Chicago Best of the Best selection, and with a middle grade novel, The Detention Club, (Balzer & Bray). He teaches at the MFA program at Piano Manor College and at the Gotham Writers’ Workshop. He resides in Massachusetts with his family.
This story was published in the February/March 2015 issue of KoreAm. Subscribe today! To purchase a single issue copy of the February/March issue, click the “Buy Now” button below. (U.S. customers only. Expect delivery in 5-7 business days).
