“You stole Mrs. Fasulo’s car?!” She faced him, mouth wide. “I never heard that!”
“It seemed like a fine plan at the time.” He turned and gave her a wry grin. “She wasn’t coming back until Sunday, I’d leave a message with Mom saying I’d be at Nathan’s, I’d catch a ride back to the train station with Jen and Rusty. Nobody would even know.”
“Until I told.” It really was her fault. “But wait a minute, you didn’t come back Sunday. You were gone for three days!”
“Yeah, well, stuff happened. For one thing, my phone died. That made it that much easier not to call home. And the whole experience, it just blew me away.”
“Good concert?”
“Yeah, but what happened after was even better.” He leaned back against the wall, looking up through the hole in the roof. “There were booths from all these different organizations, and one that was working on climate change asked us to help hand out brochures, and then they said could we join this big protest the next day? They thought we were college students. So we said, why not, we could still get home on time. We slept in the office, they fed us breakfast, then we helped pack the van with boxes for the event. The people were amazing, and they were telling us these incredible stories of how things had changed through mobilizing people all around the globe. Best of all, I have to admit, was that things were getting pretty sweet with Jen. She is so into that whole change-the-world thing; she couldn’t have been happier. After Randi, that was different too.”
Simon turned to her, his mouth in a twist.
“Of course, we didn’t mention that we were high school students and our parents didn’t know where we were. It was so great — everything — and there was more and more to do, so we just kept not going home.”
Mia remembered what it had been like at home.
“Mom and Dad were pretty scared.”
“I know. I just … I dunno, I just put all that out of my mind. It seemed like it was such a small thing compared to the big things I was involved in down there. But the truth was, I just didn’t want to deal with that problem.”
“I was scared too. Scared that you’d never come back.”
“No such luck, Squeak. You’re stuck with me.” He reached over and bumped her lightly on the arm with his fist. “Especially now that you’ve apparently brought me back from the dead.”
“Were you in humongous trouble?”
Simon smiled and shook his head. “No, Mrs. Fasulo refused to press charges, even though Mom wanted her to. ‘He only borrowed the car….’ But I have to mow her lawn and paint her fence and all that for like the rest of my life, or at least until I leave for college.”
“What about her cats?”
“Her cats?”
“You were supposed to feed them! Weren’t they hungry?”
He groaned. “Squeak. You are too much. All this, and you’re worried about the cats?! They’re fine. I gave them lots of extra food on Saturday and Mrs. Fasulo was home Sunday.” He stretched his leg again. It must have still been bothering him.
“Now, back to that part about this being all your fault. Sure, you opened the gift, started using the phone. But I don’t think you really get how big it is that we have the phone, not the North Korean government. They may accuse Dad of collaborating or spying or something, but they can’t prove anything if they don’t have any evidence. If you hadn’t found the photos, we wouldn’t have been hiding when Dad got arrested. They’d probably have taken us too. And if you hadn’t had the phone with you, it would’ve been in the hotel room and someone would have gotten ahold of those photos. Dad could’ve ended up in one of those prison camps. So there are things that are your responsibility, yes, and there are things that are mine, and overall, I think we should be pretty damn proud, not sorry.”
She cocked her head, looking at him. “Okay. I’ll think about that.”
She was quiet for a bit, until she remembered something else she wanted to know. “So what’s going on with you and Randi now?”
“What do you mean?”
She felt emboldened to say what had really been on her mind, things she would never have dared ask him a week ago. “Well, weren’t you supposed to be seeing her? And you couldn’t because of the trip? And you’re still wearing her bracelet. Do you think you guys will get back together?”
He shook his head. “Nah. It’s not about that. We’re just friends. But she’ll always be important to me.” His smile was wistful. “She’s been at this place, a special school with counseling and a lot of art, and I think she’s doing okay. We were gonna go out and get a chance to talk. I wanted to support her, and to clear stuff out from the mess in the spring. So I was not happy about missing that.” He sighed. “But now … stuff I thought was so important? It all seems okay, nothing to get so riled up about. As long as we can stay alive, it will work out. Everything looks different, you know?”
Mia nodded. She did know.
They leaned against the wall of the farmhouse room, side by side, watching the rain fall through the roof.
“So what was your nightmare about?” Simon asked.
“What?”
“You said you had a nightmare, and that’s when you realized this was all your fault.”
“Oh, it was about Dad. I couldn’t get to him. Only —” She realized the truth of what she was about to say, unknown till this moment. “Only then it wasn’t Dad anymore, it was a woman. Maybe … it might have been my birth mother. She was this shadowy figure. It was like I would die if I couldn’t get to her. But she was always just out of reach.” Her voice came out soft, hushed.
She put her hand up to touch her locket, then smiled as she remembered. She rested her hand over her heart.
“Hey, where’s your necklace?”
“I lost it. Probably when the rocks fell on me.”
“Wow. Aren’t you bummed about it?”
“I was at first. But … it’s okay now.” She realized it was.
“Do you think about her much, your birth mother?” Simon asked after a while.
She was quiet, considering.
“Not so much. I mean, not so much consciously. But there’s some way, I can’t explain it, some way that I’m always missing her, kind of. Not really thinking about it. More like feeling it.”
“Hmm.”
“Maybe she’s coming into my dreams because of being out here like this. Without Dad and Mom. Being hungry. Wondering if we’ll get home or not … Maybe it’s ’cause I feel so vulnerable. Like I felt when I was a baby — abandoned?”
She couldn’t remember ever having shared such things with Simon. Such close-to-the-heart things. But enclosed together in their tiny bit of shelter, looking out at the rain, it felt safe.
“And being in Korea … I mean, I know my birth mother isn’t here. She’s in South Korea. If she’s still alive, that is. But being on the same peninsula, I wonder … where she is, what she’s doing.” She hadn’t known that was what she had been thinking. But as she spoke the thought, she could tell it had been there all along. “Like if she has other kids. Why she couldn’t keep me. If she thinks about me. That kind of thing.”
“I never really thought about that. I mean, of course we talked about your adoption and your birth parents. But I thought of them as where you came from, in the past. I never really imagined what it might be like to have another set of parents somewhere, wondering about them.” Simon’s voice was soft too. After a moment, he went on. “So maybe all this is worse for you than it is for me.”
“How?”
“Being separated from Mom and Dad, not knowing if we’ll ever see them again. Because you’ve already lost one mother and father.”
Mia slid over a little on the wall. She rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. Together, they watched the rain stream down.
In the late morning, it started to clear. Mia and Simon moved to sit out on the porch. After a while, Mia’s stomach started squawking. She sighed and stood up.
“We need m
ore food. There’s only enough for tonight — a little meat and broth and three persimmons.”
Simon nodded.
“I think I should go down the hill a little, see what’s down there.” She pointed toward the valley. “It looks like there might have been a path. Maybe we should go that way instead of along the tracks.”
“That’s south, Mia. We want to go northwest.”
“Yeah, but what if it’s the quickest way to civilization? You know — people, food? And maybe roads and vehicles that will take us northwest.”
He was shaking his head. “I don’t want you going off alone. Someone might see you.”
“Okay, how about this: I’ll just follow the stream for a little ways. See if it goes anywhere. If there’s a real path, I’ll follow that. I’ll leave things on the way, rocks or bent branches. Like Hansel and Gretel. That way I can’t get lost. We’ll do the time thing, an hour like last time.” She watched his face carefully. “If I don’t find anything, we’ll keep following the railroad tracks tomorrow.”
They stared at each other, eyes locked.
“You’ve got to admit, it turned out pretty well last time.” Mia grinned at him.
When Simon gave in, he shook his head like he couldn’t believe what a pain she was. He stood in the yard, exercising his leg, watching her go.
She followed the stream down the hill, weaving her way among the dripping foliage, trying to avoid getting soaked. She broke a few branches and stacked some stones to mark her way. But she’d be able to follow the stream back to the farmhouse.
In the valley the stream widened and split, a thin fork winding off to the left into the woods. The branch to the right was wider — heading west, she calculated, checking the sun and shadows — and the undergrowth along it was less dense. If there had once been a path, this was it.
Twenty minutes left before she had to start back. She turned right. The stream began to wander, crossing the trail to curve away, then return. Large stones made stepping paths across the shallow water.
Her heart fluttered. Every step she took away from Simon and the farmhouse felt dangerous. It was hard to imagine that she would find anything they could eat. More likely that she’d stumble upon a village, or another farmhouse. Maybe she could find a road sign or town name without anyone seeing her. Or steal a bit of some late crop growing in a garden. She had to do something.
Then a voice spoke. “Ah-nee, noo-goo-shim-ni-ka?”
Mia whirled around to see a girl squatting on the ground among the trees a little way off to her left. She looked older than Mia, and she was staring at her.
Mia stood frozen, poised to run.
The girl’s hands were full of roots she had been digging. She placed them in a shallow basket beside her, picked it up, and took a few steps forward, moving carefully, as if Mia were a wild forest creature that might bolt. Mia glanced around quickly, but there didn’t seem to be anyone else nearby.
The girl’s black hair was pulled back into a short braid. She was slim, but she seemed healthy enough. Not like she was starving. She wore a padded navy jacket.
She spoke again.
Mia tipped her head and opened her hands. I don’t understand. Then she put her hand on her chest and said the first phrase of Korean that popped into her mind.
“Han-gook-mal chal mot-ham-ni-da.” I can’t speak Korean well.
“Unh?” The girl started and swiveled her head, eyes narrowed. She’d probably never met someone who looked Korean but couldn’t speak the language.
Then Mia remembered. South Koreans called their country Hangook, but North Koreans called it Chosun. “I mean, Cho-sun-mal chal mot-ham-ni-da,” she corrected herself.
The older girl moved her head slightly. Maybe she’d understood.
Mia touched her chest again. “Mia.” Then she shook her head. “I mean, Sung-Mi. Han Sung-Mi.” She pronounced the syllables slowly and precisely.
The girl nodded, then indicated herself. “Kang Soon-ok.”
“An-nyung ha-shim-ni-ka.” Hello. Mia bobbed her head in a little bow.
The girl bowed back. They looked at each other. Six years of Saturday language school, but the moment Mia needed it, everything she’d learned seemed to have flown out of her head.
The girl — Soon-ok — was very pretty. Long eyes set at an angle under perfect bow-shaped eyebrows, a clear, smooth forehead, red lips. She reminded Mia of the revolutionary heroines in the paintings they’d seen in the subway in Pyongyang. Was she the kind of person who would turn in two Americans?
Soon-ok’s eyes had gone to Mia’s jacket, and her forehead creased, staring at her badge. A wary, measuring look crossed her face.
Mia made an instant decision. Wondering if it was the stupidest thing she’d done since they got to North Korea, she undid the clasp of the badge and took it off.
“Ah-ni-yo.” No. Mia shook her head. She put the badge in her pocket. “Mi-gook sa-ram.” American.
Soon-ok’s eyes widened. She probably couldn’t imagine how in the world an American had ended up in the middle of this forest. Then her expression shifted. Lightened. It was barely perceptible, but Mia felt as if she’d been given a signal. Maybe the girl wouldn’t report the presence of two Americans to the authorities.
Two Americans. Simon.
Oh no, what time was it? Mia checked her watch. Twenty-four minutes to get back to the farmhouse! She glanced back up the path, then pointed in the direction she’d come from.
“Oh-bba.” Older brother. That was one word she knew. Mia motioned with her hand up above her head, trying to indicate someone taller. She pointed at her watch. “Bbal-li, bbal-li.” That meant “quickly.” It was the only thing she could think of. The expression on Soon-ok’s face was puzzled but also amused. Mia’s Korean must sound really funny. She needed her dictionary, but it was back at the farmhouse.
“Oh-bba,” Mia repeated. “Bbal-li, bbal-li.”
Maybe she could get Soon-ok to go back to the farmhouse with her. Once she saw Simon, maybe the Korean girl would understand that they were lost. Maybe she could help them find their way.
Ka. That meant “to go.” Ka-ja meant “Let’s go” in the lowest form, the one used to speak to children. It wasn’t the polite form used for someone older, someone Mia had just met, but it was the only thing she knew how to say.
“Ka-ja?” She tried making it a question so it wouldn’t seem rude. She gestured in the direction of the hill, took a few steps, gave Soon-ok an encouraging look. “Come with me?”
Soon-ok nodded uncertainly, her brow creased, and followed.
When they reached the top of the path, Simon was sitting on the porch. He started, then slowly rose to standing. On alert.
“Mia?” he said, low and slow. His eyes were narrowed, his body tense. His eyes flicked to the room. The phone.
“This is Soon-ok. I met her on the path.”
“And you brought her here?”
“I think she’s safe. I think she’s … not a friend of the government.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Simon was keeping his voice calm, but Mia could hear the tension beneath it.
“I just think…. It’s her reactions. Anyway, what was I going to do? She saw me.” Mia stopped, realizing they were talking in English, leaving their guest just standing there. Soon-ok was staring at Simon in astonishment. Probably she’d never seen a white person before.
“Oh-bba,” Mia said to her. “Si-mon.” She gestured toward him with her hand open, remembering that Koreans don’t point directly at people.
Soon-ok looked from one of them to the other. “Oh-bba?” The term was used for a girl’s older male acquaintances too. Mia wanted Soon-ok to understand that Simon really was her brother.
There was one more phrase she knew. She touched her chest again. “Ee-byang-ah.” Adopted child. Most of the time at Korean school, she’d been the only adopted one, so she’d heard the phrase a lot.
Soon-ok’s eyes went from Mia to Simon again. She n
odded. Mia wondered if Soon-ok could imagine their family. She gestured to the porch, inviting the other girl to sit.
“Koreans always serve things to guests,” she said to Simon. “We should give her something. I’m going to share the last persimmons with her, okay?”
He shrugged, still tense.
Soon-ok’s eyes widened when she saw the persimmons. “Kam!”
Mia beckoned, guided her to the side of the farmhouse, and pointed to the tree. Maybe Soon-ok would come back and get the last few after they left.
Mia brought the bottles with fresh water from the stream. Soon-ok ate and drank gravely, giving her whole attention to the persimmon.
When they’d finished eating, Mia got her dictionary. “She can tell us where we are. We just have to figure out how to communicate.” She riffled through the pages, looking up words.
“Ki-cha … Choon-gook … ka. Ki-cha uh-di-eh-yo?” Train China go. Where train? She knew she was mangling the Korean, but she hoped Soon-ok would understand. She showed her a map in the guidebook, but there was no close-up of the northwest corner. They already knew where they were in the big picture. It was the small details they needed.
Soon-ok said something in Korean, gesturing into the distance. Mia shook her head. They needed to find a common language.
Mia looked up one more word. Then she got off the porch, squatted on the ground, and cleared a small area of earth. She reached for a small stone and placed it in one corner.
“Jip.” House. “Yo-gi.” Here. Mia pointed at the farmhouse, then at the stone. Then she indicated the rest of the patch of earth. “Choon-gook uh-di-eh-yo?” Where is China?
Soon-ok squatted beside her, gazing at the stone. Then she stood, walked around the overgrown yard, found two long strips of straw, and placed them beside the stone. She pointed north, behind the farmhouse. Mia nodded. The old train tracks.
In the Shadow of the Sun Page 16