In the Shadow of the Sun

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In the Shadow of the Sun Page 7

by Anne Sibley O'Brien


  “Squeak, think.” His voice had an edge, as if he were talking to an idiot. “If we’re walking down the street like we know what we’re doing, we don’t attract as much attention. No one knows who we are. It’s only been maybe twenty minutes since we ran. They may not even realize we’re missing yet.”

  He was striding along the sidewalk, forcing her to keep up. She swallowed her panic and frustration. Kept her legs moving, counting each tree they passed as a marker, trying not to think about the fact that they were completely exposed out here.

  The next stop was in sight when Mia slowed her steps. “Wait. How are we going to pay? We don’t know how it works.”

  Simon was silent for a moment, studying the bus stop in the distance.

  “Okay, there’s one person there.” He gestured toward the lone woman in a business suit. “So let me get on first. I’ll watch and see what she does, but if I fumble a bit, it won’t look too suspicious.”

  “Hang on.” Mia stopped to slip off her backpack and pull out her wallet. “I’ve got some won that Dad gave me, change that he had from other trips. The guidebook said tourists aren’t supposed to use won, but North Koreans and foreigners who live here use it on the bus.”

  Simon took the won she gave him, with a look like he didn’t trust what she was saying. Then he resumed walking. “So I’ll get on first and indicate that I want to pay for you. They won’t expect me to speak Korean.”

  Mia nodded. Her whole body buzzed with fear. This had to work.

  There was the roar of an approaching bus behind them. It pulled to a halt. The door swung open.

  The businesswoman stepped up. Simon glanced sideways at Mia, then followed. He held his hand out, offering a handful of coins to the bus driver, gesturing to himself and then to Mia. She stepped up behind Simon, her heart pounding. She avoided the bus driver’s eyes, praying he wouldn’t speak to her.

  The driver frowned and took some coins from Simon’s hand. His expression was suspicious as she passed him. Maybe he knew who they were. Or maybe he just disapproved of her fraternizing with the enemy. He shifted the bus into gear, pulling away from the curb.

  Mia followed Simon down the aisle to an empty section in the back. The driver wasn’t reaching for a cell phone. As long as he was driving, he couldn’t report them.

  The bus rattled down the broad street.

  Only minutes later, a siren began its pulsing wail. They both nearly levitated in their seats. In the opposite lane, a police vehicle sped by. Mia had to stop herself from ducking. Two more police cars followed. Just behind them, an army truck rumbled past, camouflage canvas top flapping in the breeze.

  Mia turned to Simon, eyes wide. He pursed his lips in a silent whistle. She pressed back against the plastic seat. Breathe in, out, in, out. She tried to slow her racing heart. She glanced at her watch. 4:27. How long had they been running? It seemed like days.

  She stroked the face of her watch for a moment, thinking of her grandmother, who’d given it to her. Nona had mailed one to Simon as well, for their trip. She’d explained during a Skype call the day before they left how the screen lit up when you pushed the button on the side, as if this were a new invention.

  “It’s for when you get caught in the blackouts,” she told them with a touch of urgency. Though Nona knew their father traveled there regularly, she did not approve of him taking her grandchildren to North Korea, which she envisioned as a kind of war zone.

  Warm, funny, caring Nona seemed a universe away now.

  Mia scanned the passengers in the front seats. No one had turned to look at them, no one was talking on a cell phone. But any one of them could report them, foreigners in an unusual place, at any moment. The bus driver could pull up to a police station. Soldiers took Dad and —

  Stop. She pulled her mind away from the fear list she was making. She was just scaring herself.

  Focus. Make a list of what they needed to do next: 1. Don’t get arrested. 2. Get to a safe place. 3. Hide the phone. 4. Find a way to save Dad.

  It all seemed — it all was — completely impossible.

  Mia opened the zipper on her pack, looking for a distraction. She pulled out her guidebook and flipped to the map of Pyongyang. A map!

  “I can figure out where we are, where the bus is going!” she whispered.

  Simon glanced at her map, then at her. “Yeah, right, Mia. How the hell are we going to know what street we’re on? Have you noticed the signs are in Korean?” Though his voice was quiet, the scorn came through clearly.

  “Simon. I can read them.” She turned and faced him. “What did you think I was doing at Korean school every weekend?” He’d seen her go off, all those Saturdays. She had a vivid memory of standing fully dressed, Simon lounging on the living room carpet in his pajamas, her favorite cartoon playing on the TV screen in front of him. “Have fun at school,” he’d called, too softly for Mom to hear, as she was pulled out the door to the car.

  Now he looked momentarily surprised, recalculating. Then he turned his head away.

  She scanned the map, trying to make out the small print. “I think we must be somewhere around here.” She ran her finger back and forth over a small area.

  Simon kept looking out the window. Not even listening to her. Even now, when they were in such danger, it was all about him. His way. Well, like it or not, they were in this together. There was one thing she could think of to do. So she might as well do it.

  She tried to catch sight of a street sign, but between the glare of the sunlight and the speed of the bus, she couldn’t see well enough to read them. She could have switched to the window seat, but she didn’t feel like talking to Simon.

  Several times they stopped at a crosswalk long enough for her to make out the syllables, but she couldn’t find any of those names on the map. Then she caught sight of a railroad track, visible in the gaps between buildings. She scanned the map for railroad tracks. There.

  They pulled up to an intersection with a much wider street, stopping long enough for Mia to decode the letters. So … Chun … Ryo. She peered at the map. There it was, running right alongside the train tracks. Sochon Street.

  Simon gestured toward the other side of the bus. “The sun’s traveling that way. So we’re traveling north, northeast.”

  “I know!” Mia could barely contain her excitement. “Look, I just found our location on the map!”

  Simon’s jaw tightened. He turned his head back to look out the window. Mia’s face went hot, but she just took another breath. Studied the map again.

  “There’s a train station coming up.” She made her voice as calm as she could. “It looks like about six blocks.”

  His tongue worked in his cheek. Then he nodded. “Let’s get off there. We’ll see if we can sneak on a train. That’ll get us out of the city.”

  “Out of the city?”

  Simon turned his head, giving her a warning frown. Mia lowered her voice. “But you said … I thought we were just finding a place to hide the phone.”

  “There’s no place to hide anything here. We have to get out into the countryside. It’s the only way.”

  She stared at him. But there was no way to discuss it now. Not on a public bus in the middle of Pyongyang, with a manhunt probably being organized at this very minute. They had to disappear first, get somewhere safe. Then they could plan.

  There was a more immediate problem: getting off the bus and walking into the train station without getting caught. Simon couldn’t possibly blend in. And even though Mia looked Korean, her clothing was all wrong.

  Clothing.

  She pulled out her jacket and put it on. Zipped up, it felt a little more like a uniform. A little less American. She took an elastic out of her backpack and smoothed her hair back into a ponytail. All the North Koreans she’d seen seemed very neat and put together.

  Then, as she closed the pack, she had another thought.

  “Your badge,” she said, turning to Simon.

  “What?”

&
nbsp; “That North Korean flag pin you got from the guys in the bar. Give me your badge.”

  Simon shook his head, as if she wasn’t making any sense.

  “People keep looking at you,” she said. “Not at me. Here, any North Korean who’s with a foreigner is a guide. So now” — she gestured to the jacket — “I can look like your guide, at least for a quick impression, if people don’t look too closely. But I need a badge.”

  Simon frowned, but he fished the badge out of his backpack and handed it to her. She pinned it on her jacket, over her heart. He watched her, then shrugged.

  The bus slowed, curving around the circular driveway in front of the station. Mia closed her eyes for a moment. All she wanted to do was open them to find that she’d imagined all of this. To see Dad. Or Daniel. Someone who would take over and put things right again.

  But there was no one else. She and Simon had to save themselves.

  Ready or not. She opened her eyes. 4:46 p.m. She stood up. Arranged her posture. Marched off the bus, trying to cover the shaking in her knees.

  Four red banners hung from the front of the gray stone station. The flat roof was topped with the usual display of slogans. No one challenged them as they walked through the center doors, beneath the portrait of Kim Il-sung.

  A crowd milled about inside. Under her pack, Mia’s back felt incredibly exposed, as if it had a bull’s-eye on it. She held up the guidebook, poking the map with her index finger.

  “There’s no way we can buy tickets,” she said from behind the cover of the book. “You’d have to do it and it wouldn’t look right. Dad said they never let Americans travel in the countryside except on an officially approved trip.”

  Simon nodded. “The thing is, do they collect tickets before you get on the train, or can we just walk onto the platform and board one?” he asked. “That way we’d be out of the city before they discovered we didn’t have tickets.”

  “And then what? That would get us caught for sure.”

  “Well, have you got a better idea?” Simon’s whisper was fierce.

  “Don’t —” Mia caught herself. She held up the guidebook again, making sure her badge could still be seen. “People are looking at us. Some of them must have cell phones.”

  “Okay.” He sounded as if he was working to calm himself down too. “Let’s walk out on one of the platforms as if we’re going to take the train. The track closest to the end, not the ones in the middle.”

  They lined up behind a knot of passengers moving slowly through a door. Country folks, their clothing rougher and less stylish than that worn by people in Pyongyang. Maybe there was less of a chance that they’d have cell phones. As people caught sight of Simon, they pointed and nudged and turned to stare.

  No one gave Mia more than a glance. But it was still terrifying to be out in the open. Seen. Any moment she expected to hear the shouts of someone discovering them.

  Through the doors, a train stood to the right alongside a platform. Simon nudged her ahead of him, following the passengers down the pavement. A wheeled cart, piled high with cardboard boxes and cloth parcels, was parked next to a pillar. The crowd flowed to the right, toward the train. To the left of the platform the first track was empty; on the far track stood another train, dark and deserted.

  “Go to the left.” Simon’s voice was in her ear. Mia veered left, away from the people in front of her. They passed behind the pillar and the cart, which momentarily blocked their view of the train. Simon grabbed her arm.

  “Stay here. Anyone who saw us will just think we’re boarding at the front.”

  Mia’s heart was pounding. She couldn’t see anything from their hiding place.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Mia. Focus.” She focused on his eyes. “We’re going to jump down on the empty track. There’s probably an overhang that we can hide under. Then we can run along the track, maybe find a freight train or something to hitch a ride on.”

  No way! Jumping. Running. Catching a train. Fine for Simon. He played touch football and soccer and baseball. He went to wilderness survival camp. He put himself at risk for fun. Mia was the clumsy one. She’d stumble and fall and blow their cover. Even now, someone could come around the corner and catch them at any moment.

  Without giving her a chance to argue, Simon slipped over the side of the platform, disappearing below it in one fluid motion, as graceful as a cat. Mia stood alone on the platform.

  She could not do this.

  The top of Simon’s head rose above the edge of the platform, just enough for him to see over the side.

  “Okay, coast is clear. Move now!”

  She moved, scraping her ankle on the rough concrete edge, Simon helping her over the side. Then she was down, under the overhang, low on the track beside him, out of sight. Bent almost double, they staggered along the edge of the track bed.

  By the time they reached the end of the platform, Mia’s thighs and back were screaming. Ahead was the train yard, covered with a maze of tracks. There was nothing out there to hide behind. She watched Simon, trying to push down her panic. He was scanning the area slowly with narrowed eyes, studying every corner of the train yard.

  “We’re gonna have to cross to that one.” He pointed toward the train on the end track. It was much longer than the one that was boarding, its engine far ahead in the yard. “We’ll have to move fast. We’re going to go straight across and under the car; I think that’s safer than running to the end of it.”

  Mia’s eyes widened. What planet was he on?

  “No one’s looking down here, Squeak. They’re busy boarding the train, getting settled. And the train conductors and the crew, they’re busy too. They don’t expect anyone to be here, and people often don’t see things they’re not looking for.”

  A low warning whistle made her start. Simon tensed. “We’ve got to move, now, before that train pulls out.”

  Somehow, they got across. Mia kept her eyes glued to the ground, keeping as close as she could to Simon, willing herself not to stumble on the rails. As Simon reached the other train, he went down, rolling under the car. Mia scrambled after him, feeling as if her purple backpack were a blinking neon sign.

  They had just gotten into the shadows beneath the train, crawling over the oily black dirt and gravel between the tracks, when they heard shouts and piercing whistles. Every muscle in Mia’s body seized.

  Simon flattened himself on the ground. He twisted around to peer back at the platform where the train had started to pull out.

  “Soldiers! They’re on the platform!”

  There was a screeching of brakes, more loud shouts.

  Mia squeezed herself as small as she could, trying to make herself disappear.

  “They’re stopping the train! They think we’re on the train!”

  So they hadn’t seen them. Yet.

  “The whole place could be overrun,” Simon was saying into her ear. “I think we stay here till it’s dark.”

  Mia dared to open her eyes. They lay in the shadows, watching the soldiers swarming in and out of the railcars. Men in uniforms paced up and down the pavement, barking angry orders.

  “They knew which train to search,” she whispered, trying to breathe normally. “Someone turned us in.”

  “They could be searching all the trains for all we know. But you’re probably right.”

  “They’ve already caught up with us?!”

  “Yeah.” Simon said. There was a long pause. “But they haven’t caught us yet. So it ain’t over …”

  “Till it’s over,” Mia finished automatically. It was a favorite phrase of Dad’s.

  Dad. Where was he? If anything happened to him — Nope. She wasn’t going there. Things were terrible enough. They were like prey backed into a corner, hiding there under the train.

  Except, as Simon said, they hadn’t been caught.

  Yet.

  Mia came to, her body cramped, head pillowed on one arm. Her eyes flew open. She peered out through the space betwe
en the track and the bottom of the train car, scanning the opposite platform. Empty and dark. So was the station. That was one factor in their favor: the darkness of North Korea at night. Except for the spotlights on the monuments, they didn’t use lights that weren’t needed, and it looked as if the station was deserted.

  The search had continued for more than an hour after sunset. Finally, as Mia and Simon had watched, the other train had pulled out of the station.

  After that, the soldiers still milled about. For one heart-stopping moment, a young soldier had stretched out on the platform and peered beneath the overhang. But he had quickly pulled himself upright and fallen into conversation with the other soldiers.

  “How come they’re not searching over here?” Mia had whispered.

  “So far we’re just lucky. They had this idea in their heads that we were on that other train, so nobody’s thought to look over here. Maybe no one has imagined that two Americans would actually run across the tracks and climb under a train. But somebody might think of it at any moment.” Which hadn’t helped her calm down.

  But the light had dimmed in the sky and no one had come. Mia would never have believed that she could’ve fallen asleep under a train, knowing people were out there searching for her. But apparently exhaustion had won out over fear.

  She pushed the button on her wristwatch to light it. 9:17. Her stomach growled. They hadn’t had anything to eat since their big Korean lunch at a traditional restaurant. Dozens of colorful side dishes covering a long table. Bowls of rice and hot soup. How good that soup would taste now.

  She reached back and pulled her arms out of her backpack. Beside her, Simon stirred. He must have been sleeping too.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting something to eat.”

  “You’ve got food?”

  Mia’s hand rummaged in her pack, feeling for the shapes of things. “A little. Some chocolate, some dried fruit. Some little packages of nuts, I think. Here.” She reached for Simon’s hand and placed a few dried apricots in his palm.

  “Just a couple. Save the rest of it.”

  His words brought her back to reality, nearly spoiling the sweetness of the apricot she was chewing. They’d just run, because they had to. There was no plan. There was no guarantee that they’d get out of this mess today. Or tomorrow, or days from now. If at all.

 

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