by Young-Ha Kim
"Shit, I really was stupid, really fucking stupid. I can't even think of another word to describe myself. How can you be so calm right now, after all of this? Did I ask you to tell me everything? No! What about me? What's going to happen to me? I'm practically forty and I can't do anything with my life at this point. I always thought this was the best I could do, and so I was fine with having less, with achieving less, but now you're telling me I could have been living a much better life? That all of this is because of your deception? What the hell am I supposed to do? Say something."
Ki-yong just listens quietly.
She breathes in deeply. She continues her rant. "I always thought people got upset when someone betrayed them because they were angry at being lied to, at having the wool pulled over their eyes. But now I see it isn't true. Betrayal dismantles your confidence. That's why it's so upsetting. Now I can't believe in anything. I can't tell if I enjoyed my life until now, or if I'm doing the right thing, or what. How can someone this stupid do anything well? How can I do anything well in the future? I'm probably just going to get used by everyone. Don't you think so?"
"Calm down," Ki-yong says.
"Just stop acting so cool and collected. This really isn't the time," she snaps.
"Okay, I'm sorry."
She sighs loudly, and he rubs his face with his hands. His hands feel rough against his skin.
Ma-ri opens her mouth again, but she sounds calmer this time. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know," Ki-yong confesses.
"You must have thought of this possibility during the fifteen years you were lying to me," she says.
"I didn't think anything one way or another. I never actually thought this day would come."
"Are you going to go back?"
Ki-yong remains silent.
She shakes her head slowly. "No, if you were going back you wouldn't have waited for me like this. You would have just gone back without saying anything to me. Right?"
"Yeah." It's only then that he realizes why he waited to accost her like that.
"You don't want to go, do you? You think of Seoul as your home, since you've lived here for twenty years, right? Does this mean you have to turn yourself in?"
"Yeah."
She sniffles. "Don't take this the wrong way. I'm calm now, okay? I understand what you told me, and I know why you did all of that to me. I mean, you were young, too. You couldn't have said no when the higher-ups told you what to do."
"The Party didn't order me to marry you. I chose you," Ki-yong emphasizes.
"Well, you must have had their permission," Ma-ri points out.
He nods.
Ma-ri probes deeper. "It's because I was in the Juche Ideology faction, right? You probably thought, If I play this correctly, I might even be able to bring her over to our side."
"That might have been what I was thinking," Ki-yong concedes.
"I just want you to know one thing," Ma-ri says. "I'm saying this from a really calm place now. I'm rational again. I'm not angry and I'm not looking at this pessimistically. This sniffling is from crying earlier on. Right now I'm totally fine, okay?"
"Yeah, it seems like you are."
"Whenever I'm in a situation where I don't know what to do, I wonder what my father would have done. He always knew what to do in any given situation. Maybe because of his animalistic instinct, which helped him survive in that kind of world."
"He did always know what was going on," Ki-yong says, remembering his father-in-law, who never warmed to him. Ki-yong tried and tried to get on his good side, but the elderly liquor wholesaler seemed to know something about Ki-yong that nobody else could sense. He died without ever approving of him. He was unhappy with his daughter's decision to marry him, and even after the wedding there wasn't much chance for Ki-yong to get close to him. Ma-ri knew that, too, so she didn't bring up her father often with Ki-yong.
She gets up and throws away the tissues she used to mop up her tears. She sits back down. "Go back."
"What?" Ki-yong can't believe his ears.
"Go back. That's what I want. I'm sorry, but I like my life as it is. If you don't go back, they might send someone to take care of you."
"It's not like I'm a close relative of Kim Jong Il," he protests. "I'm not important enough to have my own assassin sent from the North."
"So then why are you being recalled?"
"I have no idea. I'm sure someone's just come across my file."
She scratches her cast. "Ugh, it's so itchy it's driving me crazy. Unless you go back, you'll never know why they're ordering you to return, right?"
He nods.
"And, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to change my name and live as a totally different person in a strange neighborhood."
"What are you talking about?"
"If you give yourself up, wouldn't the government move us somewhere else? What about Hyon-mi? Have you even thought about what's best for her? She's just started to enjoy school after quitting Go. What are we going to tell her if we have to move? I want to keep her safe. Think about it. If you go, we're all fine. They're going to relax and they might even send you back for some other mission. Then you can pop back in our lives as if you were abroad on business. If you do that, they're not going to send down an assassination team, and we don't have to be in hiding, living under assumed identities in some sleepy regional city somewhere. Don't you read the paper? All the fathers in the world gladly sacrifice everything for their families. You hear about all those Korean fathers working hard, making money, while they send their families abroad for the kids' education. They eat ramen and wire all their money to the kids. It's not even going to be that bad for you—you're from there! Your parents are still up there, aren't they?"
"My father's still there."
"And you have friends, right? Why do we have to be afraid for our lives because of your goddamn situation? We shouldn't have to change our names and address for that. I really had a difficult time making my way in the world, you know. Do you remember when I tried to find a job after having Hyon-mi? I got rejected from every job I applied to and I had to start from the bottom from managing insurance policies bought with pennies saved by housewives, and now I've worked my way up almost to where I want to be. I'm nearly there. But you just want to—"
"Okay, okay. I get it," he acquiesces, dejected.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But you have to think about your daughter. Think about her future, about what she'll have to go through, okay?"
"Okay. But I have to say I thought you'd tell me to stay, even if you were just being polite, even just once."
Ma-ri puts her hand over Ki-yong's freezing hand.
"I'm sorry, but this is what it means to be a mother. I'm not just a woman, I'm a mother first."
"Yeah, that's true," he says, nodding. "But I'm not going back."
She drops his hand, stunned. "What? Are you insane?"
"I thought about a lot of things today, wandering the streets. I really did. I even went to see a fortune-teller. You know I don't believe in that stuff. I'm scared. It will have changed a lot back there. It's going to be different. My father will be there, but he will be old, and if I go back, people who don't even know why I was sent down in the first place are going to decide my fate. Even if I live, I might spend the rest of my life in a dark underground tunnel, training young agents about to be sent to Seoul. It's really a terrifying idea. You don't know what it's like, to live your entire life on a set that looks exactly like Seoul. I've seen it. And the thing is, that may be one of the better scenarios. Something worse could happen to me. All I'm asking is for you to help me. We've been married for fifteen years no matter what happens, and it's not like we can turn back time," Ki-yong pleads.
"No, I can't help you, Ki-yong. You can hate me for it, but you have to go. That's what's going to happen. Think about it rationally, Ki-yong. If you really didn't do anything wrong, like you're telling me, there's no reason for the Party to punish you."
"You're really cruel," Ki-yong shoots back.
"I'd really love it if I could tell you all sorts of nice things, but we don't have the time," Ma-ri snaps.
"Is this payback for me lying to you?"
"No, I'm just thinking about the best solution for everyone. Don't get so upset. We had fifteen good years. And I know you weren't one hundred percent happy with me; I'm not a perfect wife, and I'm not good at being supportive. Why are you balking at this when you can make a whole new life for yourself?" Ma-ri asks.
"Okay, I'm going to ask you one last time. Why can't you sacrifice just a little bit? Please? I'll make it up to you. After I give myself up to the authorities and all of that's done—well, I'm sure I'll have to go to prison for a few years. But after that, after I get out, I'll be the best husband, the best father," Ki-yong tries to convince her.
"No, I told you. That's not possible. Why are you making it so difficult?"
"Even if you don't like it, I have the right to live with you in that apartment," Ki-yong announces.
She exhales and throws down her ace. "Okay, I'll tell you why you can't do that. I'll tell you all about where I was and who I was with today. There's no way you can bear to live with me after you hear about it."
Ki-yong hears from Ma-ri, from Ma-ri's mouth, from Ma-ri's tongue and lips, in too much detail, about the young man who reveres Mao and Che Guevara, the stuttering Panda, the third guy who wasn't able to get into the room at the Motel Bohemian. He has to hear it. But as he hears it, he feels like he's listening to a twisted version of a Brothers Grimm fairytale. It's unreal and fantastical. It sounds like a story from one of Freud's patients. He's hearing this story from Ma-ri, but he can't believe that it's something she's experienced. A woman meets a boy and falls for him. She's then kidnapped, locked up in a tall tower, and waits to be rescued. But the situation becomes worse and worse...
He asks, despondently, "You think I'm going to believe that?"
"It's up to you whether you believe it or not. But right now, I'm not the same woman as the one you woke up next to this morning. I've learned that in life, there's a moment where you have to say no. This is precisely that moment."
"This is all very easy for you," Ki-yong says, dejected.
"It's not," Ma-ri says.
He gathers his thoughts. Even if everything Ma-ri told him is a lie, even if she just made it all up to hurt him, there's one thing he can't ignore—she doesn't want to be with him anymore. That much is true.
"Fine," Ki-yong says.
Ma-ri looks into his eyes.
"I'll go. I'll go back," Ki-yong says glumly.
"Good, I'm glad you made the right decision. I know it's hard for you. But you should go. That's the only decision that makes sense."
"Fine. But on one condition."
"What?"
"I'm taking Hyon-mi."
"What?" Ma-ri bolts up from the bench. From far away, a dog barks incessantly. "Are you crazy?"
"No."
"You can't take her to that hellhole!"
"You know, people live there, too," Ki-yong points out.
"People are starving up there! They don't even have gruel to eat. You know all of this better than I do."
"No, it's not that bad. It's just that there isn't any fast food or computer games. Oh, and none of this pressure to succeed in school, the tutoring, the grueling college entrance system, the drugs, the underage sex."
"You can't take her."
"You used to believe that NK was the solution to all of our problems, too, once upon a time. Right? Don't you remember? You used to be so jealous of Lim Su-kyong, who got to go to Pyongyang."
Ma-ri tries to control her mounting panic. She bites off her words. "Back then. I was young. Now, the political landscape is different."
"Fine, let's assume you're right. Let's say that the North is worse off than it was before. But I think we need to give Hyon-mi the chance to decide. I'm not talking about choosing an ideology; I'm talking about choosing a parent. She should get a say in who she wants to live with."
"Why does Hyon-mi have to be responsible for your mistakes?" Ma-ri seethes. "You're the one who hid your true identity and lied to us. Why does Hyon-mi have to make such a difficult decision?"
"This is a cheap shot, I guess, but you've brought it on yourself. You think you have the right to be a mother when you're out screwing twenty-year-olds, and a spy doesn't have the right to be a father? Do you think that makes any sense?" Ki-yong snarls, his voice rising.
"Oh, so now the gloves come off? Were you always this much of a coward, you asshole?" Ma-ri doesn't stand down.
"Why don't I have even the tiniest right to my own kid?"
Ma-ri takes out her cell. Her hand trembles. "I'm going to call the cops on you. I'm going to call 112 and report that you're a spy. I'm completely serious. Go away."
"You can't do it. Don't do it."
"There's no reason why I can't. After I call the cops and you go to prison, I'm going to file for a divorce, no, an annulment. Kim Ki-yong doesn't even exist, he never did, so I'm going to win hands down. I know I will. Don't come near me," Ma-ri warns. "Seriously, I'm going to scream."
She presses 1 twice, and glares at Ki-yong, her thumb on the 2. "I really don't want to have to do this," she says, her voice icy.
"Fine, fine. Okay. You win."
She moves her finger away from the keypad, whips around, and starts to walk away, but then stops and looks back. "Bye. Be careful." Her voice is small, trembling, barely reaching Ki-yong's ears.
He takes a deep breath. He says, quietly, "Go ahead, go inside. Hyon-mi's probably waiting for you."
She walks toward their apartment building. As she does, she realizes that the fatigue that was draped heavily around her shoulders earlier that evening has vanished. A new energy courses through her veins. She gets farther and farther away from Ki-yong and disappears into the darkness.
KI-YONG WATCHES HER stalk away. He sits back down on the bench. A strong feeling of dejection rips through him, shaking his body and spirit like a powerful tornado. All of the feelings he was suppressing throughout the day burst forth, as if a dam has caved in. He cries, silently. He silences his painful, visceral sobs by clamping his mouth shut. It's the first time he has cried since coming down south. He remembers being in the hospital when Hyon-mi was born. He thinks back to his wedding day, too. Both were oppressively hot days. Both times, he was on pins and needles, worried that someone would appear, reveal his true identity, and wrest his wife or child away from him. He suffered from nightmares for days prior to the wedding and the birth. Nightmares were like an old, loyal pet dog for Ki-yong. He couldn't get rid of them, but he couldn't keep them with him all the time. His dreams were filled with the vanishing faces of his wife and daughter. Sometimes the wedding guests turned and attacked him, like zombies. Once he dreamed that his newborn daughter bared her teeth at him, enraged. But at some point, his old pet dog nightmare went away. And he started to feel comfortable in his staid life. Like any middle-aged man, he could look back and think, Ah, those difficult, lonely younger days. But that nostalgia was merely a product of Ki-yong's delusion, his arrogance toward his fate.
He wipes his eyes, blows his nose, and clears his throat. He takes out his phone. He presses the numbers slowly, very slowly. The phone rings for a long time but nobody picks up. He sits there with the phone to his ear, patiently. Finally, she answers.
"Hello?"
"Soji?"
"Oh, Ki-yong. Where are you?"
"I'm just out."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You sound like you have a cold. It's cold outside, right?"
"Yeah, it's a little chilly."
There is a silence.
He swallows hard. "Soji," he starts.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"The thing you said back at the Westin Chosun—you still mean it?"
"Still me
an what?"
"That you don't think you're going to be a teacher forever. Do you still mean it, that you want to leave for someplace like Hemingway or Joyce and write?"
She doesn't say anything for a long time.
He waits for her to answer, patiently. It feels like eons.
"Ki-yong, you've never seen my house, right?"
"No."
"When I got home—I left a huge mess trying to find your bag—I felt unsettled. So I cleaned my house, a large-scale cleaning, which I haven't done in a long time. In the middle of the night. But now that I did that, the house is too clean. It's an old house, although it's going to be redeveloped at some point."
"I see."
"Do you ever get the feeling that the ghosts in your house are welcoming you when you walk through the door? Even though nobody's here, when I walk in it feels like someone's talking to me."
"Yeah. I know what you're talking about." The wind grows chillier. He shivers. He wonders if your body temperature drops when you shed tears.
"The kids are amazing," Soji continues.
"What kids? Oh, your students?"
"Yeah, some of them have a real gift for language. When I'm teaching kids like that, I feel like I've achieved something great. Hyon-mi's one of those kids."
"But you're a writer first and foremost."
"I'm not sure if that's true, though. I've been satisfied a number of times as a teacher, but I've never been happy with myself or my work as an author. Doesn't that mean I can't call myself a writer?"
"Well, a teacher and a writer are pursuing different objectives."
"Exactly."