Jia: A Novel of North Korea

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Jia: A Novel of North Korea Page 9

by Hyejin Kim


  He smiled. I could see teeth were still white and even. I could read the happiness in his eyes and his haste to see her. I watched him for a while, and his smile slowly died as we spoke.

  "Could you? Is it too difficult? Maybe it's not the right time to call her..." Gun scratched the top of his head over and over again.

  I spoke slowly. "She is not here anymore, Gun."

  His smile disappeared altogether, and he sat upright in front of me. "What do you mean? Why isn't she here anymore? Did she leave for someplace else?"

  I held his hand and said gently, "Gun, she left after you did. I'm sure she left a note with her parents. I haven't seen it, so I don't know exactly where she is right now. But I think she left to look for you."

  His mouth hung open, and his stare was blank. Silence lingered between us for a time.

  "How could this happen? It's my fault. It's my fault... I should have come back faster."

  Gun sobbed in front of me. I let him cry as much as he wanted, just as I had with Sun.

  "If I had come back a little faster... If I had left her a note before I ran.. .this would never have happened."

  Gun told me that he had hesitated before running away. He hadn't wanted to leave without Sun, but there was no choice. He had heard that in China and other countries people could eat as much as they wanted. The government told us the floods had hit the entire world and that people in other countries were suffering more than we were. But while running an errand for his factory, Gun had traveled to Sinuiju, a ghost town on the Chinese border, and had witnessed the land of China beyond the Amrok River. He was stunned. He couldn't take his eyes off it-the high buildings and splendid lights were in such sharp contrast to the dark and barren Sinuiju. Gun imagined plentiful food for his parents there-how would the Chinese have money for all that light unless they were well fed? The loving son couldn't stand letting his parents grow sicker from starvation.

  Gun had crossed the border with his elderly parents-a dangerous journey. They settled in a small Korean-Chinese village, where Gun worked day and night, but he could not forget Sun. His parents knew that returning to North Korea was much more dangerous than getting out, but they couldn't stop him. They couldn't bear to see their son's face so empty any longer.

  Gun had returned here to take Sun with him to China.

  Gun knew that China wasn't very safe, especially for a woman, and that it wasn't the happy land they had imagined. He knew now that he'd have to return to China to find Sun, as quickly as possible. He could only hope that no ill fortune had befallen her.

  He lifted his head and turned his reddened eyes to me. "You really don't have any idea where she is? Didn't she leave a note? Not even to you?"

  "I'm sorry, Gun. Nobody knows where she is, or how she is. She slept here the night before she left. I guessed she would try to track you down, but I didn't stop her. No one could have. You must understand, you know how determined she is."

  He sighed deeply. "It's my fault. It's all my fault. I needed money to come back here. I worked in factories, farms-anywhere I could make money. But I didn't return in time."

  "Gun. You must go back to China and find her. She's a smart girl. I'm sure she's safe and she's looking for you."

  He shook his head. "Jia, you don't know about that place. How can I find her? We are inferior to insects over there. Here we have no hope, but at least we're regarded as human. Over there, we're just trash. No one even looks at us." Gun grabbed his head again. It was too much to think of Sun, alone in China.

  He suddenly stood up in the darkness. "I have to go, Jia. I should go back now and find her. The sooner, the better."

  With that, Gun disappeared as suddenly as he had come. I didn't have time to ask about his parents' health, or his life on the other side. The execution of runaways was increasing, but that didn't stop people from trying to cross the river. The hunger wracking their bodies every moment of every day gave them no choice. All I could do was pray for Gun and Sun, and for the others who had gone the same route.

  I understood the fear and the hope that filled those who chose to run. Sun probably left with the fear of stepping into a strange land, but warmed with the excitement of finding her love again. Gun's love for his parents and for Sun, and Sun's love for him, were good reasons to undertake the dangerous journey. I had no one. In a way, having no family insulated me from the famine. I had Seunggyu, but he couldn't see the shadows of my past and therefore never really knew me.

  I was breathing every moment, but I wasn't alive.

  Before returning to the border to cross back into China, Gun had to deliver medicine to his uncle here. His father was always worried about his brother's chronic stomach disease and had packed some supplies in Gun's bag. The house wasn't far from Sun's, and in darkness Gun felt safer as he moved through the streets.

  He sneaked into the village where his uncle lived, knowing the layout very well, as he had spent so much time there playing with his cousin, Jaeho, when he was young. The village was also completely dark, and when he knocked on the door of his uncle's house, everyone seemed to be asleep.

  At the door, Gun quietly called out his cousin's name. "Jaeho, Jaeho, are you there?"

  A tense voice came through the door. "Who's there?" It was his uncle.

  Gun breathed again. "It's me. It's Gun."

  There was silence inside for a moment, and then the door opened a tiny crack. Gun couldn't see anything, and his uncle seemed to hesitate for the same reason.

  "It's me, Uncle. It's Gun. I've come back."

  His uncle opened the door and stepped outside. He touched Gun's cheek. "Where have you been? I've had no news about your family. Let's go inside." He grabbed Gun's hand and led him into the house.

  His uncle's wife, Jiyoung, and their son, Jaeho, had awakened and were looking at him in surprise.

  "We've been outside the country," Gun said. "Did our sudden disappearance cause you any trouble?" He nodded to his aunt and Jaeho.

  "It has been all right. Some investigators stopped by the house several times to inquire about your family, but as you know, we knew nothing. We were so surprised when we heard the news."

  Gun felt sorry for his uncle; he knew his father and uncle had depended on each other after losing their parents at a young age.

  Jaeho was blunt: "Why did you come back? You're endangering our family." As only children, Gun and Jaeho had been like brothers, and yet now Jaeho avoided Gun's eyes. Jaeho must have felt abandoned, just as Sun had.

  "I just want to give this medicine to Uncle, then I'll leave." Gun turned to his uncle. "How's your stomach? Is it any better?"

  Gun reached into his bag and produced the medicine and some money. His uncle looked at the offerings in surprise, but his wife snatched the money without delay.

  Scowling at his wife, Gun's uncle said to Gun, "It's only an old people's disease. I don't need medicine, don't bring it next time."

  "Father wanted me to bring it; he's always worrying about you. You can't imagine how sad he is to be away from you right now."

  His uncle started sobbing and murmured, "He doesn't know how my heart broke after he left without a word. My life has come to a dead end. I wonder if I will see his face again before I die."

  Gun held his hand. "Don't be sad, Uncle. I'm sure you'll meet soon." Gun was overcome with guilt at having divided his family.

  Jaeho grumbled something and lay down, drawing the blanket over his head.

  Gun stood up. "I'll leave now. It will be much safer for your family and for me."

  "No, stay here, just for one day, Gun," the old man said, tugging at Gun's shirt. "You can leave tomorrow. I want to hear the news about my brother."

  To Gun, darkness was preferable for a safe escape, and he wanted to search for Sun as soon as possible, but his uncle turned to him with tear-filled eyes. Gun looked at his aunt and his cousin, but they were silent; Jaeho lay motionless under the blanket.

  "It will be all right. Nobody visits our house," Gu
n's uncle said. "Bring your shoes inside. You should eat something-aren't you hungry?"

  Gun couldn't turn down his uncle's offer; he didn't know if he would ever see him again. "Okay, I'll leave tomorrow night," he said, setting down his bag and pushing it to the corner. Then he told them the story of how he had crossed the river with his father and mother.

  Jaeho whined, "I have to get up early tomorrow. I can't sleep with all this talk."

  Gun lay down next to his uncle and talked all night long in a low voice about his family's life in China. His uncle tried not to miss a single word. Whenever Gun mentioned his father, his uncle sobbed. Gun decided not to tell him about his father's foot, which had been almost useless since he had stepped on a piece of glass while crossing the river. Though they were able to extract the piece of glass and disinfect his foot, the wound wouldn't heal, and it continued to cause his father pain. They couldn't find any medicine and were too afraid to ask for help.

  Gun and his uncle fell asleep at dawn and didn't hear Jaeho leave. Gun slept a long and deep sleep.

  He woke to someone shaking his body violently.

  Gun saw that he was surrounded by soldiers. Something was wrong. He tried to stand up right away, but they kicked at his ribs, and he rolled over in pain.

  "Get up, national traitor! You are not worthy of sleeping in this house. Get your butt off the floor." Two soldiers held Gun's arms and pulled him along by force. He was led out of his uncle's house as they kicked him in the abdomen, the calves, his head. How did they know? Had he slept too long? Had someone seen him sneak into the house?

  A square-faced soldier ordered the others to stop kicking him, and a truncheon came down on him, hitting him hard in the right thigh.

  "Get up! Don't exaggerate the pain." The square-faced soldier swatted at Gun with the truncheon.

  Gun could barely raise himself. He had witnessed this scene so often in his dreams. Didn't someone say dreams implied the opposite of what would really happen?

  He stood up, shaking, and his uncle and aunt came into sight. His uncle's tear-filled eyes were fearful, but his aunt avoided Gun's face. One soldier pulled his hand behind him and another fastened handcuffs on his wrists.

  "He hasn't eaten anything yet today," his uncle said, approaching the square-faced soldier and appealing to him.

  The soldier scowled. "What did you say? Did you say you want to feed that national traitor?"

  Gun's uncle shrank back in fear.

  "Did you receive something from him?" the soldier demanded.

  "No, nothing..." Gun's aunt answered.

  "If we find something in your house, your family will be punished like him. Understood?" The soldier stared at them, brandishing the truncheon liberally. "Where is your son? According to him, your family isn't related to this reactionary element's family."

  Gun didn't understand this. What did this mean? No, he decided not to understand what the soldier was saying, what this meant. The soldier turned back to Gun and smiled, watching him in silence. Then he held the truncheon to Gun's face and whispered in his ear, "Welcome back to North Korea." He pointed at the other soldiers with his truncheon. "Take him to the car," he ordered.

  The soldiers rushed toward him and dragged him into the back of an army car. They got in and sat around him.

  Gun could hear his uncle protesting. "General, he must have been influenced by some reactionary elements-he has never disobeyed the rules, he was a model for his factory!"

  The square-faced soldier addressed his men, ignoring the pleas of Gun's uncle. "Search the whole house. If you find something, report it to me later. We must go."

  "Gun! Gun!" his uncle shouted. Gun didn't look back. His uncle cried, "This is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to stay here overnight. How can I face my brother in the other world? This is my fault! "

  As the car pulled away, Gun realized he had forgotten to tell to his uncle about the medicine. He had to take the medicine twice a day, not three times, like medicine in North Korea. Chinese medicine was much stronger.

  To Become a Spy

  un was thrown into a cell already overflowing with prisoners. He looked around the cell and realized he had been dragged into an underground prison. He had heard about these places, deep in the mountains: he had heard that people sent to them never returned. Runaways to China lived in fear of being caught by the Chinese police, handed over to the North Korean police, and sent to one of these prisons.

  Most prisoners crouched and bowed their heads, just looking at the ground. The smell of urine filled the air, and nausea overcame Gun as he approached a woman whose chin was resting on her chest. She was slumped on the floor, and looked more like a corpse than a human being, her enormous belly dwarfing her tiny head. "That bitch pees more than five times a day on that spot. She can't even wait until toilet time. I can't stand it anymore," one man complained, looking at Gun.

  "What's wrong with her?" Gun asked. No wonder there was space around her. An old woman stared at the grumbling man and said, "Don't talk like that. Pregnant women have to go to the restroom more frequently because of the baby's pressure."

  "Who wants a baby now!" the man sneered. "Besides, her baby's butt has two different cheeks: one from China and the other from here. It must be deformed." Some of the men around him smirked.

  A policeman kicked at the iron bars. "Cut it out, national traitors! Do you fucking bastards want me to stop your laughing?"

  The pregnant woman didn't seem to care how people talked about her; she didn't raise her head or move at all. Gun couldn't help but sit next to her, as finding another place to lie down in the cell was impossible.

  He wondered what Sun was doing at that moment. She must blame me, he thought. Why didn't I leave as soon as I delivered the medicine to my uncle? What about Jaeho? Was he afraid the police would raid his house and arrest everyone for harboring a traitor? If Jaeho hadn't said anything, nobody would have known; Gun could have said farewell to his uncle and his family, safely crossed the river, and started looking for Sun. Jaeho's betrayal seemed coldhearted; if it was revenge for Gun's leaving without telling him, it was too cruel.

  A policeman opened the door of the prison cell abruptly. "Hey, new guy! Come out." When Gun looked up toward the voice, three men were standing behind the policeman. Together they dragged Gun to another room, similar in size to the cell, though its emptiness made it feel much bigger and colder. A yellowish, umbrella-shaped light hung from the middle of the ceiling-the only decoration. Directly under it, in a chair, sat the square-faced soldier who had arrested him, with his legs crossed, smoking. Gun felt a chill that sank to the marrow of his bones; whether from the cold or from the man's vicious smile, he didn't know. He decided instantly that the fastest way out was to acquiesce. He stood at attention before his interrogator.

  "We investigated you and your family's history thoroughly. Up to now you've had no problems with the government, and yet you chose to destroy everything. How was China? Was crossing the border worth betraying your country?" Gun's interrogator waved his cigarette back and forth.

  Gun said nothing; there was nothing to say. He wondered how many times a day that man examined runaways, and how much information they must beat out of each one. It frightened him. The square-faced man seemed uninterested in any answers Gun might provide; he just kept smoking. Gun didn't raise his eyes.

  Back in the cell, Gun was lying on the floor when he felt warm water spread underneath him. It felt so good; he wanted to take off his clothes and soak his whole body in it. When he opened his eyes, he realized that it had come from between the pregnant woman's legs. He met her eyes and she smiled, though her face was filled with shame. "Sorry," she said in a low voice, but Gun didn't complain. In fact, he didn't care. The smell of urine didn't bother him anymore.

  Gun was dragged back to the room again the next day and beaten by the same men, the same way. They weren't even trying to extract information from him, and after a while he didn't feel pain anymore; his body had
swelled to almost three times its normal size. All he heard, all day, was "national traitor." When Gun was returned to the cell after a day of beatings, other prisoners consoled him, saying, "It's just the first step. We all passed it, and it'll be over soon. Just hang on a little longer."

  What had he done? Gun had been a good citizen in North Korea: never disobeyed the law, never went against the order of the government-in fact, he was the most enthusiastic member of the Propaganda Department in the factory where he worked. He hadn't crossed the border to betray his country; he just wanted to make a living and not starve to death. More important than that, he didn't want his parents to starve to death. He had waited for the government to help them, he had believed the government would do something, but nothing had happened. The situation only got worse, until crossing the river was the only way.

  The pregnant woman fed Gun the rice-and-corn soup they were given, because he was bound and couldn't hold a spoon himself. The soup was thin, but it helped restore energy to his injured body.

  "How old are you?" he asked one day, as she put a spoonful to his mouth.

  Her face turned red and she responded, hesitantly, "Seventeen."

  "How did you become pregnant at such a young age?" Gun asked the question despite himself.

  She fed him another spoonful, looking into his face. "When I got over to China with my father the first time, he sold me to a Chinese plan. But it was for me-he did it for me." She put the spoon in the bowl and went on, "I was actually happy over there. People blame my father, but I don't care; my Chinese husband was really nice. We couldn't communicate very well-sometimes we needed his Korean-Chinese friend or neighbor-but the language barrier didn't cause too much trouble." She spoke softly, so others couldn't hear.

  "He was fifteen years older than me, and very poor. To buy me, he spent almost all of the money he had saved, but I never missed a meal; he always tried to feed me well. When I got pregnant, we didn't know what to do. We were so happy, but we were afraid because we knew we shouldn't have children. His friends had warned us that a pregnancy would risk my safety, but we weren't cautious enough. If the Chinese government found out I was from North Korea, I would be dragged back here. We knew we had to give up the baby, and walking to the hospital, we cried bitterly in the street, holding hands. Some policemen happened to pass us-two blubbering adults holding hands, who wouldn't notice? We were so ignorant. They asked what had happened. I panicked and started to run, but they caught me. When they found out who I was, they sent me here. My husband tried to have me released, but the poor man has no power."

 

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