My Seoul Man

Chapter 8

AJ was so silent and still after we entered what I call "red rock" country that I finally looked over to see if he'd fallen asleep.

But he had this boyish smile on his face. Eyes missing nothing as we sped along, me behind the wheel of that Jeep and him just taking in the desert grandeur on the passenger side.

Even so, I was surprised when he asked, "Can we turn off the music, maybe?"

I was used to people freaking out when it started to get hard to find any music once we got out that far. They seemed to need music to keep in touch with the familiar world we were leaving behind as we sped past the blazing red mesas and bright turquoise sky on the long, empty two-lanes.

So, I was relieved when AJ leaned into the silence and serenity. Because Net, cell and cable service would be sporadic at best where we were headed.

"So, they're Native?" he asked me.

"Yep. Yoli's grandfather was Hopi, anyway."

"What tribe is her husband from?"

"They're Crees. Canadian. His grandfather's kinda famous, actually. Back in the day, if you saw any movies about Native people, he was probably in it. In fact, the whole fam had a lock on those roles—you know the old 'colored people quota.' Same few people get the call all the time."

"Yeah, I ran into that, too. Doesn't matter how famous you are outside of the U.S., when you start trying to take meetings in LA, it's like, 'We've already made our Asian movie for this year.'"

"Do you want to act?"

"I did two dramas that worked out well. But they were fan service, you know? Cutesy."

He took his eyes off the view to look at me, finally. "And you met in college? You and the wife?"

"Yoli Poli. Yep."

"That's not her real name, right?"

"Yolanda Poleala. Yoli Poli."

He said, "cute" in Korean then. It almost sounded like "cute." Or I heard something like, "Kee-oh."

"Hubby's name's Ronnie Bird, Jr."

"Is he an actor, too?"

I squinted a little, looking for the totally unmarked road I had to turn down soon. "He looks like a movie Indian—stereotypical type they like with the long hair and all. But he's an artist."

"Ah."

"Well known one. And also...well, you know those t-shirts you see at swaps and in the convenience stores and truck stops out here? With the big eagles and wolves and dream catchers and things on them?"

"He does those?"

"Started a little side hustle in college that blew up because Yoli had the connects through her grandfather."

"More show business?"

I laughed and said, "Totally different story. If you ever watch Antiques Roadshow, you'll see pieces of his jewelry sometimes. And each piece is always worth, like, thousands of dollars—the appraisers always freak out over them. But he lived in this little trailer on the rez his whole life. The dealers and shop owners made pilgrimages to him, instead of him going to them. So, she inherited all that money."

"Hit the life lottery, these two."

"Yeah, they left the rez because they started to feel like they were turning into the family's private 24-hour ATM machines. People stopping by to tell them about this and that thing they just needed a little money for."