Ep. 05 Time Cannot Erase

Rachel was so entranced by the performance that she didn't notice that Mrs. Romero had left the gym until she turned to comment on the performance and saw that she was standing by herself.

'Oh well,' she thought, 'the orientation was pretty much over, anyway.'

The band members began putting away their instruments, talking to each other as they wound up the cords and stowed them away. Rachel started walking toward the stage as Mi Na picked up the Jackson's anvil-case and began walking toward the exit. She pushed past Rachel, brushing hard against her almost as if intent upon knocking her over. Rachel thought she heard the muttered word, 'bitch', as Mi Na moved on past her. The keyboardist and vocalist were speaking to each other in hushed tones, and the other two were too busy dismantling the drum kit to notice the exchange.

Rachel followed Mi Na out of the gym to find the girls' room door close. She waited for ten minutes when Mi Na came out.

"Hold it right there, young lady," she said, grabbing Mi Na's arm.

"I have nothing to say to you, Ms. Tarunen," Mi Na said, almost spitting the name in Rachel's face. "Or is it 'Mrs. Lister', now? That's what you really wanted all along, isn't it?"

"What?!" Rachel said, flabbergasted. "Scott Lister was nothing but a dim, rather unpleasant memory the morning after your brother came into my life!"

"Don't lie to me," Mi Na said, struggling to remain calm. "Do you think I'm stupid? I read that email you sent to my brother, so you better steer clear of me. I told you that you better be good to him, remember?"

"What email?" Rachel asked, confused.

"The one where you told him that you realized you still loved Scott and that you needed someone more like him, and that you never loved my brother."

"Believe me, Mi Na, I never sent anything like that."

"Liar!" Mi Na shouted, tears beginning to form. "I read it with my own two eyes."

Rachel felt her own anger boiling up inside her, and dug in her purse for her cell phone. Opening it, she called up the photo-album utility, and clicked on the name of a picture. She'd transferred it from her laptop to the phone the day after her mother sent it to her, as a reminder never to trust men implicitly ever again. In the two years since, she'd scarcely glanced at it, but at least it was here and ready for use in rebutting Mi Na's accusations.

"Speaking of your own two eyes, maybe you should take a look at this, young lady!" she spat, turning the phone so that its screen faced the girl.

"Take a look at what?" a voice behind them asked.

Rachel turned around and saw a tall, lanky figure with long brown hair. She recognized him as Mark Sinclair, Randy's old friend and former band-mate. He looked at Rachel, then at Mi Na.

"Hello, Rachel," he greeted her brusquely. Then, "Hey, Mini-Cho, what's wrong?"

Looking back at Rachel, Mark noticed the photo displayed on the phone's screen.

"Hey wait, I remember that!" he said, and grabbed the phone out of Rachel's hand before she could protest.

"Oh, really?" Rachel snapped, sensing that her vindication was forthcoming.

"Yeah!" Mark nodded, sighing. "This photo was taken about a week or so before you left for Maine. In fact, you couldn't come to the gig that night because you and your folks had gone up for student orientation and to haul the first load of your stuff up to your dorm. Randy was pretty broken up about having to be apart from you, so he kinda hit the 'sauce' a bit hard."

"Yeah, I can see that!" Rachel said, sarcastically. "He really looks like he's in a lot of pain!"

"No, you don't get it," Mark said, getting angry. "I remember this girl, too; a really annoying little bitch who couldn't take a hint. She and her friend were fawning over Randy, saying how cute he was on stage, and how they'd love for him to touch them with his hands like he did with his guitar."

"Get to your fucking point, Mark," Rachel growled.

"Please, no swearing in front of the children," Mark asked.

"Yeah, what Uncle Mark said," Mi Na laughed, "no swearing in front of the fuckin' children."

His back to Mi Na, Mark allowed a small grin to briefly wrinkle his lips as he rolled his eyes upward in their sockets.

"Children!" he sighed. "Ya can't live with 'em, and shooting 'em is against the law, so what are ya gonna do?"

"Sometimes they grow up okay, Mark," Rachel empathized with both sides of the coin. "We did, you know."

"Yeah; right. Well, like I was saying, those two girls were on Randy all night, like white on rice. Wouldn't leave him alone. Every time the band took a break, they were there to fawn all over him. They wanted to get a photo with him, wanted to…" he jerked his head briefly in Mi Na's direction and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you know… they wanted to leave the club with him…"

"I get the picture," Rachel said. "And you're holding it in your hand."

"Yeah, but you're not in possession of the whole story, so let me finish, will you?"

"Go on."

"Well, Randy finally agreed to take a picture with each of them if they'd get off his back. They only got one picture." Mark gestured to the photo on Rachel's phone. "This one. I took the girl's phone to take the picture, and she leans in close and then licks his ear. Randy flipped out at her and started screaming at her in Korean for a minute, then heads for the restroom. I followed him in, and he was leaned over one of the sinks, washing his ear like a leper had licked him. I asked him what was wrong, 'cause I'd never seen him act that way, and he goes off in Korean for a minute or two before punching the mirror and then lapsing into English. I think he even broke the mirror; I hadn't seen him that mad until he punched Rick out. But his rant was all about the girls - the two that night, and the ones who showed up at other gigs - and couldn't they just leave him alone, couldn't they get the hint that he wasn't interested in them?"

Rachel's jaw dropped. "You mean-"

"Yeah, your man was totally loyal to you - right up until the day you dumped him. He tried finding someone else after that -- gave it at least a half-hearted effort - but he ended up even more miserable. He was still too hung up on you! I mean, if you don't believe me, ask Krista! After the gig that night, he got even more drunk, and wound up passing out on the couch at her and Jon's place! Say -- where'd you get this picture, anyway?"

Rachel couldn't answer; she was dumbfounded. "I got it from my mother," she said through a lump in her throat.

"Interesting," Mi Na said, a hint of sarcasm still lining her voice, "considering that your parents never liked Randy."

"I asked her about it, a week or so later," Rachel told him. "She said Scott Lister brought her a copy of it, when he to the house to apologize for his stunt on Prom night, and that he wanted a second chance with me."

"That's strange," Mark commented, "Scott was there at the gig, the same night. Randy pointed him out to me, and asked me to make sure that the two of them didn't get within ten feet of each other, although apparently Scott gave no indication that he even recognized him. Apparently, he was still pretty pissed about what that dude did to you at your prom. But Scott was there, that night, with a leggy blonde on his arm."

"Leggy blonde?" Rachel asked him. "Big boobs? Hair down to her waist?"

"As I recall," Mark nodded.

"That was probably Jessica Davis, the head cheerleader. I caught him with her on prom night, with his head between her thighs."

"Whatever." Mark shrugged. "The funny thing is, now that I think about it, we never really had that sort of problem, before that night. I mean, we'd have 'fans' come up and tell us how much they liked the music, maybe ask us to autograph their copy of Remember the Dead -- that sort of thing. And yeah, chicks would come up to us, but most of the time they were pretty respectful and were able take 'no' for answer. Then again, groupies usually only go after the lead singer, right? Usually, they were happy just to hang out and have a drink with us."

"Now that is really curious!" Rachel mused, gazing with unfocused eyes at the gym's far wall. "You only ever had problems with groupies - or, Randy only ever had them - one night, in the band's whole career?"

"That's about the size of it," Mark nodded.

"And on that night, it just so happened that this photo gets taken, and - somehow - my mom gets a copy of it and sends it to me. I never really bought that story about Scott giving her the copy because he wanted another chance with me. I wonder…my mother had access to my email for a while, when I was getting set up in Maine. Mi Na, when did Randy get that email?"

"Two years ago, today," Mi Na replied curtly, still glaring.

Rachel closed her eyes while she did the calendar-math, then got down on both knees and looked Mi Na in the eyes.

"I swear to you, Mi Na, that I never sent that email. I told you that I would be good to your big brother, and I meant every word of it! I didn't hear anything from him, the first week at college. No phone calls to my cell, no emails, nothing. Then, I get this photo in an email from my mother. I think, somehow, my mother sent Randy that email from my account and then blocked his email address from sending anything to me. I don't know how she did it, but I can't figure any other way it could have happened."

"Is it your cellular phone?" Mark interrupted.

"Not really," Rachel shook her head. "Or, at least, that phone wasn't. I've got my own account, now that I'm working and earning money, but that one was an add-on to my mom's cellular plan."

"Any way your mother would have known Randy's cell number?"

"It was in my address book, in the drawer of the night table, next to my bed," Rachel answered, a look of concern growing on her face. "Before I left for Maine, I copied all the important stuff out of it into Outlook, on my new laptop. Why?"

"If your mother owned the account, and knew his cell number, she could have had the phone company block your phone against receiving calls from Randy's phone. It's legal. All she'd have had to do was tell the phone company that the number belonged to someone that was stalking her young daughter…"

"Is all that stuff really possible, Uncle Mark?" Mi Na turned to him, the glare beginning to soften on her face.

"Every last bit of it, kiddo," he nodded. "From what your brother told me, about how much Rachel's mother hated him, I wouldn't put it past her."

"Oh…" the expression on Mi Na's face went from 'confrontation' to 'contrite' in an instant.

"Neither would I," Rachel agreed. "She could never see anything other than my getting married to Scott Lister, whose parents are loaded and are big-shots in society."

"Umm," Mark said, handing the phone back to Rachel, "if I'm no longer needed here, I better take my daughter and get on home. Bye, Mini-Cho! Say hi to your brother for me!"

"I will, Uncle Mark! Bye!"

"See you tomorrow!" Lisa waved, as she followed after her father. A few seconds later, the doors clanged shut behind them, and the silence in the nearly empty gym was almost deafening in its intensity.

Rachel cast an eye around the gym and realized that she and Mi Na were alone.

"Please, Mi Na," she pleaded, tears rimming her eyelids, "you must believe me. I would never, ever, have done anything to hurt your brother."

"I believe you now," Mi Na nodded, moving closer, her expression serious and concerned. "I'm glad Uncle Mark showed up when he did, to ask the right questions and make me listen instead of shooting off my big fat mouth at you, like I wanted to."

"Honey, we all make mistakes," Rachel said softly, putting an arm around the young girl's shoulder. "I made one, too, back then. A big one. I believed what my mother said, and what that picture showed, and stayed in Maine. What I should have done was pack a bag, get in my car, and drive down here that night -- camp out in my car in your driveway until your brother came home and we could talk this thing out."

"Grandfather always says that we can't undo the past," Mi Na told her. "All we can do is know that we made mistakes, and move on - learn from experience and try not to make the same mistake a second time." Mi Na then looked at Rachel seriously. "Do you still love my brother?" she asked flatly.

"Yes, I do!" Rachel answered without hesitation. "Deep down, I never stopped loving him. You'd think two years would be enough time to get over a guy, wouldn't you? But I didn't. I should have been outraged, angry as all hell, but I wasn't. Instead, I ached and ached for him. Why do you think I was so hurt when I got that photo, and thought he betrayed me, if I didn't love him?"

She paused for a moment, watching the play of emotions flicker across the young girl's face.

"Mi Na," Rachel said, her eyes boring into Mi Na's, "I still love your brother, and I need to see him. I need to find out if there's still a chance for us to work this out. The happiest times I ever had in my life were the times spent with him, and with you and the rest of your family. Will you help me?"

Mi Na thought for a moment, then set the Jackson's case on the floor and nodded. "Okay, Rachel," she said in a conspiratorial tone, taking a step forward and putting her arms around Rachel's neck, "here's what we'll do… "

"Honey," Rachel smiled, "if we're going to plot an 'evil scheme' of our own, I need a cigarette! Can you hold off until I get my purse and briefcase from the principal's office, and we can go outside to the parking lot?"

"Sure."

They left the gym, stopping briefly at Katherine's office for Rachel to retrieve her things, and then left the building, heading out to the parking lot. Rachel opened both the front doors of her car, to let the inside temperature cool off, and they stood beside the vehicle, chatting. As soon as the car had cooled off sufficiently, Rachel slipped into the driver's seat and Mi Na crawled into the passenger side.

"Technically, I'm 'faculty' here, now, even though I don't start officially until next Monday," Rachel commented as she pulled the pack of Jades from her purse, shook one out, and lit up. "So I'm gonna be breaking a rule by smoking in front of a student. Don't snitch on me, okay?"

"Give me one, and you've got a deal," Mi Na replied.

"Mi Na Cho!" Rachel exclaimed, a look of shock and surprise on her face. "Don't tell me you've started smoking already! You're only twelve!"

"Nah," the younger girl laughed. "I'm just yanking your chain is all. I dress the way I do 'cause I'm in this band, and maybe I've got a bit of what Randy calls 'potty-mouth', but I don't have any plans to start smoking."

"That's good to hear!" Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. "So, what was this wicked little plan you had in mind?" she asked aloud.

"Well, I was thinking that…if you…"

* * * * * *

"I'm gonna have to keep a good eye on you, Mi Na Cho," Rachel giggled, as the two stood beside her car in the parking lot. "That's about the most devious plan I ever heard, short of the one my mother cooked up that started this whole mess!"

"What can I say?" Mi Na shrugged. "Desperate situations call for desperate moves. I'm pretty sure he's still got it bad for you. Since he dropped out of Bloody Solstice, he hasn't done much more than work and sleep. He finished his college, got this night-shift job at Hannaford, and teaches some at Grandfather's dojo. The only time I've seen him pick up a guitar - since he left the band - was to help me figure out the harmony parts in "The Trooper", 'cause I was slightly stumped on it."

"Well, I'm glad you believe me, and I'm even more glad that you want to help," Rachel smiled.

"I've got personal motives at stake, Rachel," Mi Na admitted. She was still mildly suspicious, but given the circumstances of what happened, she was willing to give Rachel another chance. "I want my old brother back again," she continued, "and I've kinda always wanted a big sister."

"I've always wanted a 'little sister', Mi Na," Rachel confided. "A couple years back, I was figuring you'd be perfect for the part. Maybe it's not too late… "

She held her arms out and Mi Na stepped between them, hugging her tightly and beginning to sob.

"Mi Na!" a strident female voice called, from off to one side. Both women turned their heads to see the Cho family sedan sitting not fifteen feet away, Ji-Won Cho glaring angrily from behind the steering wheel.

"How could you possibly stand to talk to this woman?" Ji-Won demanded, her voice still at peak volume and maximum rage, as she jammed the gearshift lever into 'Park' and got out of the car. "Is the pain that her simply being alive has cost our family so little, that you have to associate with her and open us up to more?"

"Mother," Mi Na held up a cautioning hand. "It's not what it looks like. Well, actually, I guess it is what it looks like, but there's a whole lot of really important shit you don't know about!"

"Don't curse at your mother, honey," Rachel instructed. "It's disrespectful, at best, and from her point of view - not knowing what you and I have just spent the last hour figuring out - her anger is justified."

"Figured out what?" Ji-Won had advanced to an arm's length away from the two, and she stood there - arms crossed defiantly over her chest - tapping a foot impatiently.

"It's not a thirty second explanation, Mom," Mi Na cautioned. "Go get your coffee and your smokes out of the car. You're gonna need both."

J-Won fumed and bristled but, deep down, she trusted her daughter. Mi Na was, in many ways, wise beyond her mere twelve years of physical age. She had been far more angry at the break-up than Randy had ever allowed himself to appear, constantly commenting on all manner of tortures and cruel punishments which would all be far too kind for Rachel. If Mi Na could manage to put away that sort of hostility, there had to be a rational explanation for it. She'd at least give it a good listen, before making any further judgment.

It took the better part of half an hour - plus one five-minute cell-phone call to Mark Sinclair for verification of a couple points, before the elder Cho was convinced.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear all of this," she told Rachel as she stepped forward and hugged her. "Even in the short time that you and my son were together, I became very fond of you - fond enough that I found myself thinking about how nice it would be to have you as a daughter-in-law. When Randy got that email - even then, I really didn't want to hate you. I'm glad that's all in the past."

"Thank you, Ji-Won, for believing me," Rachel smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes. "And for what you just told me. Trust me, there were plenty of times I thought about what a wonderful mother-in-law you'd make, if Randy and I decided to go the distance together."

The two women pulled apart, and Rachel leaned into her car to grab a Jade and light up. When she turned back, she saw Ji-Won in the process of lighting a Salem Black Label. Mi Na was several yards away, heading toward the school building.

"All this talking made me thirsty," she called out. "You two have your coffee, so I'm gonna go grab a soda out of the machine in the cafeteria. Be right back!"

"I didn't know you smoked," Rachel commented, exhaling. "I mean, Mi Na said something about it a little while ago, but I never saw you smoking while I was dating Randy."

"I don't do it in front of my parents," Jennifer admitted, blushing. "Most Asian women smoke, at least occasionally, but my mother turned out to be one of the few who don't, and she wasn't too happy when I started at seventeen. She never outright forbade my doing it, but she did manage to express her displeasure enough that - to this day - I can't bring myself to light up in front of her. It's a 'respect' thing, I guess."