Jia: A Novel of North Korea (17 page)

I stayed with Aunt Ann for one last night. Ever since Gun's
abrupt appearance and disappearance, I went home every
night-I was afraid of missing Gun and Sun should they
return and need my help.

I looked around the room at the hotel where Aunt Ann
and I had lived as roommates for four years. It was too small
for two people, but Aunt Ann was never angry with me
and my messes. Even after twelve years, all of Aunt Ann's
belongings fit in two small bags.

On that night, as with so many before it, we lay down
and chatted until we fell asleep.

"I always wanted to have a daughter, so when I saw you
for the first time, you don't know how happy it made me
that we would live together," she said. "I felt, in place of my
husband and son whom heaven took from me, I had been
sent such a pretty daughter." Aunt Ann passed her hand
over my hair. She sometimes cried while she slept, and I
would pat her chest as though I was soothing a baby back to
sleep. I wondered if she would do the same for me.

Thinking of her impending absence, my heart ached. I
asked myself whether I had more luck in my life than other
people. I had always been surrounded by good people, but
sometimes I felt it wasn't luck, but rather a curse that I
had to suffer. Whenever I made a friend, I had to prepare
for the day when we would separate. I would never get
used to it.

I wanted to be alone, but Seunggyu had insisted on dragging me down to Okryu Bridge. He couldn't understand
why a janitor leaving was such a big deal to me. I had decided not to tell him about Sun and Gun; I didn't want to
hear him curse my friends. Being outdoors didn't improve
my mood, either. I didn't want to see the gaunt trees and
the sleeping streets.

"So many people are leaving or disappearing," I said
with a sigh, feeling empty-even of sadness.

"Don't talk like that, Jia," Seunggyu erupted. "Only losers run away; national traitors don't belong here anyway."

He took a round metal box out of the pocket of his gray
pants. It was covered with yellow flowers and curved letters, and filled with fragrant sour and sweet candies.

"They're lemon flavored," Seunggyu said mildly, as
though speaking to a child.

I didn't lift my eyes. "But Seunggyu, have you ever
thought about why they are leaving, knowing that if they're
caught, they'll be brutally punished?"

"Who cares what people think, Jia, it's a waste of time."
Seunggyu threw a piece of candy into his mouth and blinked hard, several times. "Whoa! This was my favorite candy
when I was a kid, but maybe not anymore..."

He could be incredibly stone-hearted, but I knew
Seunggyu wasn't a cold person. He just didn't know how
to express himself. I thought I could help him understand
people who worked hard but could not be recognized because of their class.

"Why do you despise people who are different from
you?" I asked. "No matter what class they belong to, they
are also loyal to the Great Leader and to our country, but
they're hungry. They have no control over their background;
the only difference between you and them is that they were
born into the wrong class, and that wasn't their choice."

He put a candy between my lips, to stop my mouth.
Seeing my frown, he grinned and said, ` Jia, they have bad
blood and a reactionary tendency, you just don't see it. Our
country is having a hard time right now, but we have to
unite-that's the best and fastest way to recapture the way
it was. Look at us! We're trying to overcome the hardship,
we're loyal to the party and trust our leader. But these traitors screw everything up, thinking only about themselves.
So selfish. They take public goods and run away at night
like rats. They can't stand a little hunger."

Seunggyu put a candy in his mouth and pushed another
toward mine, but I turned my head to avoid it.

"The second one is much better, Jia. If you give up because the first one was sour, you'll never get the real taste.
Just endure the hard time for a short while. Don't avoid it.
Runaways only look out for themselves. They don't want
to put up with a little hardship for even one moment. What
else could I call them but losers?"

Patting my shoulder, Seunggyu handed me the box.
"Come on, Jia. I know you're upset about Aunt Ann, but you
can't dwell on it. Let's think about ourselves and our future!
I know today isn't the best day to look ahead, but the winter
will be over soon, and I don't think spring will be long this
year. Summer will come sooner or later. We need time to get
through the trifling tasks of arranging a wedding."

He said his parents wanted to meet me and any of my
living relatives. "My father is sure he must have known
your parents or grandparents. He feels sorry he can't meet
them. He has a broad set of acquaintances, you know." At
this, Seunggyu gave me a big, confident smile.

That day, it became clear that it was time to tell Seunggyu my story. I couldn't hide anymore; I didn't want to.
Seunggyu and I had been together for more than three
years; I knew he had strong feelings for me, and I returned
them. He loathed people with backgrounds like mine, but
my background was part of me. No secret can stay buried
forever. I hoped that hearing my story would overcome his
prejudice against "those people."

The sooner I talked, the better.

The hotel grew busier. We had to divide up Aunt Ann's duties. There were no new recruits; when one person disappeared, we all picked up the slack. A week after Aunt Ann
left, I called Seunggyu.

It was still too cold to be outside for long, but I felt it was
the safest place to tell the story I had never told anyone. We
sat side by side on a bench in Taedong Resort, as we had
the week before, and I rested my right hand on his left. His
hands were my favorite part of him-big enough to cover
mine, which were chronically cold. I wasn't as nervous as
I thought I would be, and once I began, telling the most
important person in my life about my past felt like the most
natural thing in the world. It felt good to share myself and
be close to Seunggyu. Why hadn't I done it sooner?

Seunggyu was silent as I spoke. I didn't look at him, but
I could feel him watching my face closely.

When I finished, he quietly stood up and said, "Let's
go back. I'll take you home." His face was blushing deeply,
like a scarlet peony.

It was the first time I had to reach for his hand, not
he for mine. I could only hold three fingers; it was hard
to grab his whole hand. As Seunggyu walked, he stared
straight ahead, his mouth firmly closed. I knew it would be
difficult for him to digest a woman's 20-year life story in a
few hours-especially his future wife's hidden story-and I
had tried to prepare for every reaction.

When we reached my apartment, Seunggyu peered up
at the window on the third floor and said, "I have a twoweek assignment training new recruits. I might not see you
during that time."

His voice was distant. After that, he turned to go.

I called to him, "Seunggyu, can you understand now
why I have sympathy for the people you despise?"

He nodded his head shortly, without looking back.

I decided not to be impetuous. No matter when it might
be, the next time I saw Seunggyu I would tell him how mischievous I had been when I lived on the mountain. I
climbed up to my flat and fell into a deep sleep.

Two days later, I arrived at the hotel in the morning and
saw a man who looked like Seunggyu hastening down the
hall past the front desk.

I caught up with him and touched his shoulder. "Seunggyu?„

He turned, and his panicked face stopped me in my tracks.

"What are you doing here?" I said. "Don't you have
training for two whole weeks?"

The edges of his ears turned bright red, and he looked
restlessly around the hall, apparently annoyed. "Right," he
muttered. "I must go right now. I just had something to do
for Jongmu here. I was just stopping by. I must go right now
so I'm not late. See you in a couple weeks. I'll come by."

With that, he hurried away, and I felt sorry for delaying
him.

I entered the practice room and found the youngest
dancer, Han, sweeping the floor with a wet mop. She noticed me and told me Director Park was looking for me.

"Oh, really?" I said, looking back at the wall clock above
the door. I wasn't late. Director Park looking for you in the
early morning was never good. "How's her mood today?"

Han stopped sweeping, leaned toward me to get closer,
and said, "The most red I have seen so far."

When Director Park was angry, her face was like a completely ripe strawberry. We could guess the kind of day it
would be from her color.

"Thanks, Han. Is she in her office?"

"Yes, I would hurry."

I crossed the wet floor with an apology to Han and turned backstage. When I opened the artificial leather door,
Director Park was pacing back and forth in the office, her
arms crossed.

"Close the door," she said, glancing at me, and plopped
herself down on the sofa. Her ears were as red as Seunggyu's. "I was worried something like this would happen."

I put my black bag down next to the sofa. "What's
wrong, Director Park?"

She leaned over slightly, without uncrossing her arms,
and moved her face so close to mine that I could clearly see
the wrinkles around her eyes. Maybe the rumor that her
husband was having an affair with his coworker is true, I
thought. Director Park was too young and too good a wife
for that snaky old man. "Did you tell your story to Seunggyu?" she demanded.

I was surprised that our discussion had started with
Seunggyu. "Yes..." I replied.

"He just stopped by here and asked me to tell him honestly about your background. He seemed so upset."

Was that why he came? Not for Jongmu, but for himself?

"Jia, I accepted you at the hotel because of Teacher Song.
She told me about your family's history, and I took pity
on you."

Director Park stood up and resumed pacing.

"Your boyfriend wanted to know everything, and he
asked for some documents relating to you. Jia, he threatened me! He said his father's friend has a high position in
the information bureau. I don't know what I'm supposed to
do. I was so anxious whenever I saw you two together-I
should have stopped you."

Director Park patted the back of her neck with the side
of her hand. "Let's calm down first."

Pouring water from the yellow stainless-steel kettle, she
guzzled a full cup. "Jia, try to convince Seunggyu not to
hurt you; you've been together for a long time, and I'm sure
he really loves you; that's why he feels so betrayed by you.
He almost cried. But Jia, to him, your background is paramount. Don't trust love. Just beg him to forget about you
and not to shake too much dust from your past-you've got
to try and catch him as soon as possible."

I left her office quietly, with Han's anxious eyes trailing
me. I had no idea where Seunggyu had gone, or if he really had a training session. Walking down the hall, I told
myself, Right, as Director Park said, I must find him and beg him
to forgive me and restrain him from endangering my l fe. But my
legs were taking me back home.

Would he turn me in, send me to a political prison? It
pained me that he had decided not to tell me how shocked
he was. I couldn't forget his eyes at the hotel, darting away
from mine.

I retired to my room for a long while.

Before sunset, I visited my friend and former colleague Jiyun. She had quit dancing at the hotel when she got married. Everything in her house was well organized-they
still had furniture and a TV-and Jiyun's only worry was
her long-unfulfilled desire for a baby. With a grin, she offered me dried anchovies on a plate. I had never seen such
big anchovies; their eyeballs hung out of their sockets.

"It's strange..." she said. "What I missed the most after
stopping work over there was Cook Kim's anchovy dishes.
Remember? I always gave them to you. I never imagined myself sitting alone in the house, chewing on big dried anchovies. My husband brought them from China. Try them, Jia."