Look but Don't Choke

Chapter 4

            The Cho’s lived in a working class suburb on the East side. The house was a two story cottage that was right at home in community of proud homeowners. Just driving down Plumtree Dr. invoked all sorts of feelings of nostalgia from that first time the school bus dropped me off.

            I parked on the street in front of the house. The scent of goldenrod and honeycomb drifted on a gentle fall breeze and reawakened memories of autumns past. For once the sun was kind as it worked in tandem with the cool air, warming my skin as wind rustled through the treetops above. I walked up the stone path where I’d made Henry jump rope with me, even though he’d said it was ‘girl stuff’.

            The wraparound porch brought back memories of Henry and I, sitting on the third step, reeling after he’d gotten into a fight with Pete Matthews, the fourth grade bully, and won. I rang the doorbell. After a moment Han answered, no honeymoon afterglow like I’d expected, only concern and uneasiness.

            “You’re supposed to be on a beach in Mexico right now,” I said.

            “Lauren and I decided to postpone the honeymoon.” With a nod of the head he invited me in. Once I slipped my shoes off, I followed him through the house. A quiet kind of tension hung in the air as we passed through the living room where Henry, Mr. Cho, and I would watch baseball games around the television.

            We walked through the dining room, where I’d had countless meals. Meals I mostly hadn’t ever heard of until Mama Cho sat them in front of me. This was the table where Harley had shamelessly announced that he didn’t plan on going to college; ever. Han was off at University, about to graduate, and Henry and I stared hard into our plates, listening with gross attention as he was given the logical benefits of a college education.

            From the other side of the kitchen door I could hear Henry and his mother having an argument. When I walked into the rustic old kitchen, a hush fell over the room. Henry and Mrs. Cho were standing near the small table that was pushed up against the wall near the side door, both bodies defensive, features rigid. Papa Cho and Harley were nowhere to be seen.

            I waited for a few awkward moments, but no one spoke. All three of them remained quiet, probably trying to come out and tell me the bad news. After a time of more silence I lost my patience and found my voice, “What happened?”

            “Abby’s dead,” Han said.

            “What!” Though I acknowledged the loss of a life, I had a moment of great relief. It wasn’t Harley. “How?”

            “Strangled,” Henry said.

            Without meaning to, I stroked the soft skin at the base of my neck. “How’s Harley taking it?”

            Everyone in the room paused and looked around, uncertain. Finally Henry cleared his throat and said, “Harley’s been arrested.”

            I blinked hard. “I don’t understand.” Han and Henry exchanged looks like they were trying to explain Nietzschean Philosophy to a three year old.

            “Evie, do you understand what I’m telling you?” Henry said, slow and deliberate.

            “No, I don’t think I do.”

            “They arrested Harley for the murder of Abbey.”

            “That’s crazy.” I said with certainty. “Harley would never harm anyone; least of all a woman. They’ve got the wrong man.”