The Nurse's Bodyguard

by Melanie Mitchell

  Luke obligingly rose, but looked a little concerned. “Don’t get too excited yet. It’s only a start—just a name and maybe contact information.”

  “But if we have contact information and she’s responded to the adoption agency’s query, wouldn’t that mean she’s willing to see me? To talk to me?”

  He considered her question as he opened the door and ushered her through. “Maybe... Hopefully.” His lips turned up slightly and he squeezed her hand. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  * * *

  THE OFFICES OF the Asia Social Welfare Agency were located in a well-maintained, narrow, four-story building about five miles from Yongsan Garrison. Luke had directions and Claire remembered the area from her previous visit, so they found the agency well within the thirty-minute time frame Luke had set with Henry Kim.

  Claire didn’t try to hide her excitement as she jogged up the steps to the agency’s entrance. She forced herself to wait for Luke to join her, and he smiled as he opened the door.

  A middle-aged Korean man was sitting in a small waiting area just inside the entrance. He was relatively thin and his short, coal black hair was brushed back, making no attempt to cover his receding hairline. The creases at the corners of his chocolate-colored eyes suggested friendliness, and he was casually dressed in a black polo shirt and khaki slacks.

  During the drive from Yongsan, Luke told Claire that Henry Kim was Korean-American. He’d been born in the Los Angeles area to Korean immigrants and lived there until age fifteen. His family had returned to Seoul when he was in high school, and Henry spent the next fifteen years moving back and forth between his birth country and his ancestral homeland before finally settling in Seoul. He had multiple computer science degrees from Stanford and UCLA and currently worked for one of the large electronics firms. In his spare time, Henry helped the American military and U.S. State Department with cyber security issues and other classified activities.

  Henry Kim was looking at messages on his smartphone when they arrived. When he saw Luke, he immediately closed the app, pocketed the device and rose. Stepping forward, he grinned and held out his hand. “Hey, brother. Good timing.”

  Luke shook his hand and gave him a friendly thump on his shoulder. “Thanks for getting on this so quickly. I owe you.”

  He pulled Claire to stand beside him and made the introductions. Claire shook Henry’s hand and said, “I very much appreciate you helping me out like this.” She was a little shy. “I’m eager to find out what you’ve learned.”

  “Not a problem. I’ve worked with Luke quite a bit on some of the Army’s—um—projects. Happy to help on something personal—and frankly, this easy—for a change.” He gave Luke a sly and meaningful look. “Ah, here’s Mrs. Lee. She’ll walk you through what she’s already told me.” He glanced again at Luke. “I’ll hang around for a while, just in case you need any help translating.”

  “We’d appreciate it. Thanks.” Luke nodded as he turned to meet the woman walking in their direction.

  Mrs. Lee was a regal woman of about fifty. She was well-dressed in a navy suit, with a pink blouse and low-heeled pumps. Her black hair reached to her chin and was painstakingly coiffed. She greeted Claire with a slight smile and gentle nod. “Miss Olsen. I am glad you could come this afternoon. I have good news.”

  Claire nodded politely. “Thank you for speaking with Mr. Kim and seeing me this afternoon.” She motioned toward Luke. “Let me introduce my good friend. This is Luke Llewellyn from Yongsan.” She was a little awkward with the introduction, not really sure how to explain how she came to be in the custody of the naval officer, so she decided to forgo details.

  Mrs. Lee made no move to offer her hand, so Luke gave her a brief bow and said, “It’s good to meet you, ma’am.”

  With the introductions made, Mrs. Lee asked the three visitors to accompany her to her office. Although nothing was said to them, the eyes of nearly a dozen women working in cubicles followed the group as they walked to the rear of the building and entered a small office.

  Once seated, Henry Kim took over the conversation. “Mrs. Lee, please tell Miss Olsen what you told me about her foster mother.”

  Mrs. Lee nodded. “Yes, of course.” She gave Claire a rather maternal smile. “I do not hear from birth mother—um—yet. I do hear from foster mother.” She paused for dramatic effect. “She agree to meet you.”

  Claire bit her lip and sat up straighter. “That is wonderful! When did she say we could meet?” It took her a moment to process the news, but she managed, “Can I go see her?”

  “Yes, tomorrow, next day... She say is all right.” She paused then and said several sentences to Henry in Korean. He asked a question, which she promptly answered.

  Henry nodded and turned to Claire and Luke. “Your foster mother’s name is Sun Eun-hey. Mrs. Sun lives just outside of a village in the hills, about two hours east of Seoul. It’s near some of the big ski areas.”

  Claire glanced at Luke almost pleadingly. Obviously, this development was unexpected and complicated under the circumstances. She was confined to a military base, had no personal transportation, and no way of finding a woman’s home in a rural area two hours out of Seoul.

  Luke appeared to read her mind. “I can wrap up some stuff when I go back to work this evening. I’ll request a vehicle and we can drive up tomorrow morning.” He turned to Henry. “Are you free tomorrow?”

  “No, sorry,” Henry replied. “I’ve gotta go to Jeju in the morning.”

  Luke shrugged. “Not a problem. I’ll ask around the base. I’m sure I can find a translator who can go with us.”

  Claire nearly squeaked. “No, wait! Luke, I forgot! Jessica and Tony had planned on coming for lunch tomorrow. Maybe they can go with us. Jessica can translate. It’ll be fun to spend some time with them.”

  “Sure,” Luke said. “Why don’t you call Jessica and see if that’ll work.” He turned back to address Mrs. Lee. Can you contact Mrs. Sun and inform her that we can be there tomorrow... Say about 1:00?”

  “I will do so now. It will take time for call.” She gave Claire a meaningful look. “While you wait, would you like to see agency?” She looked pensive then said something to Henry in Korean.

  Henry listened and looked at Claire with something akin to compassion. “Mrs. Lee said that you need to see where you spent the first month of your life. She said that it is important to know your heritage—this part of your past.”

  Claire was simultaneously intrigued and apprehensive. She glanced at Luke. “Will it be okay to look around the agency? Do you have time before you need to get back?”

  He was watching her carefully. His lips turned up in a small smile and his voice was quiet. “Claire, I think it’s important for us both to see the agency. Take all the time you want.”

  Mrs. Lee rose and went to the door of her office. She called to a young woman who was working at a nearby cubicle and motioned her over. After conversing with Mrs. Lee for a moment, the woman smiled shyly and nodded to Claire. “This is Miss Bang,” Mrs. Lee said. “She is a case worker. She will show you around and tell you about our agency.”

  Henry remained seated when Luke and Claire rose. “It’s probably a good idea for me to hang around here while Mrs. Lee contacts Mrs. Sun. I’ll try to talk to her directly so I can get precise directions. Trying to find a random house in the Korean countryside can be tricky.”

  Luke nodded. “Good idea. I don’t know how long we’ll be. So when you get the information, you could send it to me in an email or text and then head out. We’ve already taken too much of your time.” He shook Henry’s hand. “And, thanks again.”

  Leaving Mrs. Lee’s office, Claire walked beside Miss Bang and Luke followed closely. Glancing between her guests, Miss Bang said, “My name is En-jie, but call me Katie. Mrs. Lee told me to tell you about our orphanage and show you the dorms and
the nursery.”

  “Your English is very good,” Claire said. “Have you spent time in the United States?”

  Katie’s smile was timid. “No, I studied English here. But after college, I spent one year touring Australia. I lived in several cities, working odd jobs. That helped my English very much.” She pushed open the door to an enclosed stairway at the back of the building. “I hope to go to New York and California in a few years.”

  Katie started the tour with basic information about the agency. “In Korea, we are sometimes called an ‘orphanage,’ but we are a full-service adoption agency. We are the second largest agency in Korea, and we place about a thousand babies each year.”

  She led Claire and Luke up the first flight of stairs. “The second floor is meeting rooms and storage. The third floor contains the nursery and the fourth floor is where the mothers stay if they come to Seoul to have their babies.” She opened the door and ushered them down the second floor hallway. “As you can see, we have a small conference room on one side and three family rooms for prospective parents and babies on the other.”

  The family rooms resembled casual living rooms, complete with a small sofa, a few chairs, tables and lamps. The door to one of these rooms was closed and muffled voices and laughter could be heard from beyond. Katie smiled with pleasure. “There is a new family here picking up their baby... It is a very happy time.”

  She led the way back to the stairs and they went up again. On the landing of the third floor, they found a fairly large book case that served as a shoe rack. Katie explained, “The upper floors are considered living areas, therefore we do not wear shoes.” Claire and Luke followed Katie’s example and removed their shoes before climbing to the next floor in their socks. “We’ll go to the dorm first and complete the tour with the babies.”

  She climbed to the top floor and opened a door leading to a long corridor. “These days,” Katie said, “almost all of the babies are adopted by Korean families. That was not always the case. For many years, most of the infants were sent to the United States, Canada or Australia. Now, the babies that are sent away are typically those who Korean parents do not want.” She glanced at Claire, but resolutely continued. “Those are the infants that have some health or developmental problems, or those who are not pure—or rather true Korean.” She bit her lip and looked away before turning to lead the way down the corridor. There were doors on either side, spaced about fifteen feet apart. Each door had a number, much like a hotel.

  “This is only one of our dorms. There are actually six others around the country. The mothers move here right before they deliver. Today there are only five residing in this building.”

  At the end of the corridor was a large, airy room that was a combination living room and kitchen. Two pregnant women were sitting in comfortable-looking chairs. One was reading and the other was watching a Korean soap opera on a large flat-screen TV. The women only glanced at Claire and Katie, but they seemed to stare at Luke. Katie nodded to the women but made no move to introduce them to Luke and Claire.

  Heading back down the corridor toward the stairs, Claire said, “Tell us a little about the mothers. For example, are they young? Poor? Educated?”

  Katie answered without hesitation. “They are mostly between eighteen and twenty-five. We have very few younger than that, which is good. Almost all have finished school and many have at least attended college. None are married.”

  “Do they ever keep their babies?”

  “Yes, at least some do now. It was once very rare, but being a single mother is becoming less of a stigma.” She paused in the stairway between the third and fourth floors. “It is difficult—although improving—because of their relationship with their families. It is still shameful and the girls are frequently disowned for dishonoring their family. Unless the mother has a good job, it is difficult for her to afford a child alone.”

  “What about the fathers?” Luke asked. “Are they ever involved?”

  Katie glanced at him. “Sometimes, but it is rare.” She looked a little uncomfortable but was candid nonetheless. “Very often, the father of the baby is already married. It is common for working men—those with good jobs and good incomes—to have women in addition to their wives. On some occasions, the father will pay to help the girlfriend to keep the baby. And in rare situations, the father will actually adopt the baby and raise it with his wife. Most of the time, however, the man deserts the woman when she becomes pregnant.”

  Katie opened the door leading from the stairway into the third floor, effectively changing the subject. “And here is the nursery area.” Her voice held obvious pride. “The babies come to us as soon as they are stable—about two or three days, and they stay here until about three or four weeks of age. Then they go to their foster mother until they are six months old. Sometimes if a baby has health problems, we will keep them here longer.”

  The trio entered a medium-size anteroom in the center of the second floor. On either side were large windows—much like the windows in hospital nurseries—that served to showcase the large rooms housing the babies. Both of the rooms were fairly large, about twenty by thirty feet, and were brightly lit by generous windows with raised blinds.

  In the main nursery, Claire saw tallish, rectangular wooden boxes about two feet wide. Pushed up against the wall just under the window, these waist-high structures served as beds for some of the babies. The beds were painted white, with partitions separating the infants. Claire counted four of the beds on the near wall, under the window, and each held four little babies.

  The infants were lying on their sides on a padded surface covered by a sheet. They appeared to be identically dressed in white footed pajamas, and were swaddled in white blankets. Only their tiny heads were visible. Most were sleeping, but several were fussing and two could be heard crying, although the sound was muffled by the glass. The perpendicular side of the room held another four beds, and most contained a bundled newborn.

  The far side of the room, opposite the window, held cabinets full of baby bottles, cans of powered formula and some medicines. Three women were present. Each was providing some sort of care to an infant. One woman was rocking and feeding a tiny baby; one was giving another a clean diaper; and the third wrapped a baby before laying it in a swing, which she started in motion.

  Through a door in the far corner of the room, a small kitchen area was visible, and beyond that was another brightly lit room with a number of baby beds. Women could be seen moving back and forth in those areas, caring for babies there, as well.

  Opposite the main nursery, Claire could see two large incubators and several standard baby beds. One caregiver was visible, and about five or six infants were sleeping.

  Katie indicated the smaller room. “This is where we keep the children who need more care. Sometimes we have preemies or infants with a health problem and we move them here to keep them away from the other children.” She pointed to the far room, beyond the kitchen area. “In there are the older babies, the ones who will be moving out in the next week or so.”

  Claire looked over at Luke and saw that he was watching a caregiver in the main room. The woman mixed scoops of powered formula with water taken from a warming container. She filled a bottle, carried it to one of the crying babies and slipped the nipple gently into the tiny mouth. The baby ceased crying immediately and the caregiver propped the bottle on a towel, adjusting it to ensure the baby could suck and swallow easily. She returned to the work table, consulted a different card and repeated the process with another newborn.

  “How many babies do you have?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper. He continued to observe the activity in the nursery.

  “Normally, we have between thirty and forty babies here. The most we’ve had since I started is sixty-two.” She shook her head and gave a small sigh. “Too many babies is very hard for the nurses. We have to add help and it is difficu
lt to provide the care they need.”

  “How do they possibly keep up? I guess each baby has to be fed and changed five or six times a day...and then bathing...”

  “Our nurses are experienced and patient,” Katie replied. “They take very good care of the children while they are with us.”

  Claire studied the scene with mixed emotions. The infants were safe and well tended. Their need for warmth, nutrition and cleanliness were met with efficiency and competence. Further, the nurses appeared to be affectionate with the tiny babies, as she witnessed the women talking softly to them and patting them tenderly. But she also saw that much of the care was automatic. The nurses changed so many diapers and prepared so many bottles and comforted so many frantic newborns, that something had to be missing. She did not have to reflect very long to recognize the absent element was love.

  No doubt there had been changes in twenty-five years, but Claire had likely occupied a bed similar to these, surrounded by dozens of other infants being cared for by dedicated but busy women. There would be no kisses on the tiny heads or hands; no singing of lullabies to fussy tots; no one to shed tears or worry about adequate weight gain or a slight temperature or a runny nose. She was inwardly grateful that the babies’ time here would be brief. Within a few weeks they would go to a foster home, where she hoped and prayed they would receive more individualized and loving attention. And finally, they would go to a permanent family that she hoped would be as loving and wonderful as her own had been.

  Claire managed to ask a few relevant questions and responded appropriately to Katie’s comments. But the visit left her shaken, and she was glad when Katie politely told them that the tour was concluded and it was time to return to Mrs. Lee.

  Luke seemed to sense Claire’s distress. As they followed Katie to the stairs he squeezed her hand. In a few minutes they re-joined Mrs. Lee and graciously thanked Katie for the tour.

  * * *

  THE COUPLE WAS silent during the drive back to the base. Claire was lost in her musings about beginning life in a small room with dozens of other babies—babies whose mothers—and certainly their fathers—did not want them or could not keep them. The babies were safe and cared for, but how different it was from beginning life with two parents in a loving home. For at least the thousandth time, she said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that Peter and Pamela Olsen had worked so hard to adopt a child from Korea. She would be forever grateful that child had been her.