Slave Again

by Alana Terry

  Mee-Kyong’s one goal was to get Mr. Lee next door to her own room. Then Sun wouldn’t witness whatever it was that Mr. Lee chose to do to her for costing him the richest customer in the province. And if she was lucky, she might have a chance to reach for that knife. As soon as he let her go for just a moment, she slipped free and was to the door before she heard his lumbering steps behind her. He was panting by the time she reached her room. He overtook her in the entryway.

  “You filthy pig,” Mr. Lee roared in her face.

  She covered her head, clenching her teeth and trying not to make any sounds. She didn’t want Sun to hear from the other room. At least for now, the girl was safe.

  “You’ll regret this. You’ll regret this for the rest of your short, miserable life.” He punched her so she fell back on the bed and was against her in a second. Mee-Kyong could smell the soju on Mr. Lee’s breath and on his clothes. A wet crumb dropped from his mouth onto her cheek. She tried to push his heavy torso off. He leaned so hard into her that her lungs only worked in shallow bursts. “Nobody disrespects me or my customers.” He maneuvered his weight just enough to punch her in the ribs, blasting a splintering pain up her side.

  Mee-Kyong’s body ached for air. Just tell him what he needs to hear. Make him think you really mean it. Get out of this alive, for Sun’s sake if nothing else. “I’m sorry for making you angry.” The words came automatically, the same apology she doled out to Pang dozens of times. She had freed herself from Pang. If she could just reach the nightstand, she could free herself from Mr. Lee as well. She lowered her eyes. “It won’t ever happen again.”

  “I know it won’t.” His grin sent waves of panic shooting out from her throbbing side. He bent his elbow and pressed his forearm against her neck. “In fact, I guarantee it.”

  She thrashed. With Mr. Lee’s full weight on top of her, his arm planted against her throat, Mee-Kyong stretched her arm out as far as it would go. Her fingers just barely brushed the handle of the nightstand drawer.

  ***

  Sun buried her head in her pillow and tried folding it around her ears. She didn’t know what was happening to Mee-Kyong in the room next door but couldn’t bear hearing Mr. Lee’s angry shouts. This was all Sun’s fault. Mee-Kyong had only been trying to help. If Sun had agreed to go with the ugly Inspector Wong and marry his wealthy son, if she hadn’t been so stubborn and scared, her friend wouldn’t be in danger right now.

  She heard a crash next door and bit down on her blanket to keep from screaming out loud. Suddenly chilled, she hugged herself tight and shivered under the covers. Why had she ever left Chongsong? How could she have been so foolish to trust a complete stranger? Had she been so blinded by a new dress and a promise of an easier life for her family? Her ignorance had cost her freedom. Now Mee-Kyong was paying the price as well.

  Sun wished she could change into a man, someone strong and courageous like her brother Jae. She would rush into Mee-Kyong’s room and free her from Mr. Lee’s anger. If she were brave enough, she would kill Mr. Lee if that meant she could save her friend. But she was just a little girl, nothing more than a child. A child who could never dream of fighting off a man as big and heavy and angry as Mr. Lee. She slowly rocked beneath the blankets, begging the night to end, begging Mee-Kyong to return safe. She wished there was a way to make herself black out. She would give just about anything to forget.

  When all was silent, she lifted her head off the pillow and strained her ears. Nothing. Did that mean Mr. Lee was finished? Was he going to come into her room next? For a moment, she thought about jumping underneath the bed again. She was working up the courage to force her legs over the side when her door flung open. Sun sucked in her breath and envisioned herself pulling the blanket over her face, but her body didn’t respond. She sat staring, her paralyzed muscles not even bothering to tremble.

  It was Mee-Kyong. From behind her back she pulled out a blood-stained knife. Panting, she grasped her side with one hand, staggered into the room, and shut the door. “Mr. Lee won’t bother us anymore, little cousin.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Roger wrinkled up his brow. Juliette hadn’t acted normally since their first conversation about the hotel district two weeks earlier. He studied the way she picked at her greens. He thought back as far as he could and finally decided the last time she ordered a salad at a restaurant was right after she delivered Kennedy and wanted to get back to her pre-pregnancy weight, which still remained elusive almost two decades later. “Is that really all you’re going to eat?” he asked.

  Juliette frowned into her plate. “I’m going on a diet. If I work at it, I figure I can drop ten pounds by New Year’s.”

  Roger put down his rib and wiped barbecue sauce off his chin. “You know you don’t need to do that. You’re gorgeous just the way you are.”

  Juliette took a sip of water. “I’ve decided it’s time to take better care of my health. Live to see our grandkids grow up. That kind of thing.”

  Roger smiled. “Kennedy’s just starting undergrad, Baby Cakes. She’s got eight years ahead of her and then residency. I wouldn’t say you’re quite to grandma stage yet.”

  Juliette shrugged. “I just want to be around when it does finally happen.”

  Roger couldn’t argue with her logic, but somewhere in the back of his mind ran the truth he had discovered twenty-two years ago: A happy wife is better than a skinny wife. He reached for another rib. “What’s Eve doing this evening?”

  Juliette poked at a cherry tomato. “It’s Benjamin’s night off, so she’s home alone.”

  Roger was glad she could keep track of these things. There was no way he could remember all the schedules of their hired help. Roger was so busy at the office, it had taken him two weeks just to find time to take his wife out to a nice dinner. He hoped some time alone together would help Juliette out of her empty-nest funk. “What did you do today?” he asked, his mouth full of barbecue sauce and pork.

  “Little of this, little of that.” She picked at a limp spinach leaf with her fork.

  He rubbed his bald spot. “Well, that’s enlightening.”

  From behind her glasses, a single eyebrow shot up. “You want me to spell it out? All right. I helped Eve with the laundry, we cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the bathrooms, uprooted some of the bulbs to bring them in for winter, wiped the windows, and then after that I read a little bit from my new novel and wrote Kennedy an email. Is that specific enough for you?”

  Roger gulped down his Coke. If this is what he had to look forward to with Juliette on a diet, he’d take her a hundred pounds heavier. “How’s your salad?” he asked after a minute.

  “Wilted.”

  “I suppose that’s the point.” Roger forced a little laugh, but Juliette’s expression remained unchanged. “You did order the wilted spinach salad, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged. “I guess that’s what they called it.”

  He finished his rib and mounted a calculated assault on his coleslaw. The American-style diner had only been in Yanji for the past two years. It wasn’t anything like the cuisine they were used to back in New York, but it was nice to get a taste of home, however fabricated it turned out to be. From a 50’s-style jukebox, Elvis crooned about his baby leaving while Roger devoured his side dish. “So, you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

  The denial he expected didn’t come. Juliette put her fork down by her full plate. “Life sucks right about now.”

  He was so taken aback by her abrupt reply, the best response he could manage was, “What’s the matter?”

  Juliette tossed her crumpled napkin on the table. “I’m bored. There’s nothing for me to do. All I’ve got is a housekeeper who won’t leave me alone and a security guard who hardly says a word.”

  “Maybe you could teach Eve to play the piano.” It was meant to be a joke. Back in New York, Juliette had spent three years trying to turn her pyromaniac, NASA-astronaut-wannabe daughter into a classical pianist by the time she started first g
rade. Roger realized as soon as the words escaped his mouth his response was ill-timed, to say the least. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, not even waiting to hear Juliette’s objections.

  “Forget it.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” It wasn’t quite “I forgive you,” but it would have to be close enough.

  Roger took another swig of Coke. “Is there anything I can do to help you get through this hard time?” There. That was better. “You want me to go to the hotel district and buy you another housekeeper? One who likes to garden?”

  Juliette’s face dropped. Her throat constricted visibly. Roger wiped his mouth with his napkin and closed his eyes. Nice one. Juliette still hadn’t stopped talking about getting back into brothel-rescue work. And Roger had to agree with part of her reasoning. If Juliette had some other girls around, young women she could teach and pour into day after day, she would feel sense of purpose she had been missing since the graduates left. The problem with the plan — besides the fact his life had been threatened the last time he went into the hotel district — was he was the one who had to actually go and get the girls out. And frankly, business at the office had picked up so much he couldn’t spare the time even if he wanted to.

  Which he didn’t. Still, it had been callous of him to make that kind of a comment. Roger looked at his wife, her hair about as wilted as her veggies, and sighed. “Tell you what. I’m going to make you a promise, okay?” He leaned toward her. “I’ll start praying about the hotel district. I’ll ask God to give us a really clear, really definite sign if he wants us to do that kind of work again. How’s that sound?”

  Juliette took a sip of water, crossed her arms, and stared out the window.

  ***

  Eve was glad to have the house totally to herself. The Sterns hadn’t been getting along with each other lately, so Mrs. Stern hadn’t been helping her husband out at his office as much. There was only so much baking and snacking Eve could put up with in a given two-week period. Job or no job, she had certainly maxed out on sweets and tea with her fat mistress.

  She would have never thought she’d regret seeing all the Secret Seminary students shipped off over the border. Ironically, when the house was full, Eve had been able to enjoy more time alone. None of this brownie-making every single day. How anyone could actually enjoy the grainy texture or bittersweet aftertaste was a complete mystery. In some ways, Eve felt sorry for Mrs. Stern. The poor woman was clueless about so many things. Eve wondered if it would be pleasant to exist in such mind-numbing ignorance.

  Eve picked up the Sterns’ phone — another perk of having the house to herself. She was sick of sneaking calls in secret. “It’s me,” she breathed once he answered. “Everyone’s out. Want to come over?”

  ***

  “You’re awfully quiet.” Roger commented. It had been the slowest dining experience in Juliette’s recent memory. “You doing okay?”

  Juliette had already decided if her husband asked her that question one more time before the evening was over, she would buy herself a plane ticket and spend the next eight years in Cambridge with Kennedy. Instead, she quickened her pace as they left the restaurant. “I’m fine.” Roger’s promise to at least pray about resuming brothel work was reassuring. It was the first step in getting her way, at least.

  “Got some change, lady?”

  Juliette frowned. She was used to pan-handlers soliciting her when she was out by herself, but she found it even more insulting to be addressed directly when she was with her husband. She lifted her chin and walked on without glancing down.

  “You gots a pretty skirt. What’s it made of?” The old man reached out and grabbed the hem of her dress. When she couldn’t free herself right away, she nudged him with the heel of her shoe.

  Once they were a few paces ahead, Roger chuckled. “Did you have to kick him?”

  “I didn’t kick him. I just didn’t want him touching me.”

  “Baby Cakes, you kicked him.”

  Juliette scowled. “I wouldn’t have had to if you did it for me.” She felt her husband tense and for a moment regretted her words. “Maybe I should go apologize.”

  Roger took Juliette’s arm in his. “Just forget it. I would have probably done the same thing if I were you.” Juliette would like very much to see that, but she didn’t say anything. If Roger were more proactive, if he were willing to go back to the hotel district, for instance, she wouldn’t be in such a slump. He was just too much of a pacifist, always worried about making a loving Christian impression. Some people respond to justice and the fear of God a lot more than love and wishy-washy kindness.

  Juliette thought about the ragged old man, thought about turning around to make sure he wasn’t hurt, and then sped up her pace. It was getting late.

  CHAPTER 24

  She giggled and pushed him back down onto the pillow. “You know I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

  Tiger dropped a candy wrapper on the floor, stretched his arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He wondered what it would be like to live in a mansion where the roof never leaked. “Come on. You said you trusted me.”

  “I do.” She smiled flirtatiously.

  He never could stand how pointy her chin was. It made her look like some big-nosed Western teenager. Oh, well. He wasn’t with her for her looks. “Come on. Tell me. I just want to know where they all went. I mean, did they all get fired? Did your mistress turn them over to the police? What happened?”

  Eve hadn’t stopped that ridiculous giggling. “I already told you, I can’t tell. I’d get in big trouble.”

  “Aw, relax a little.” He flashed a smile. She was wearing far too much perfume. “I just want to know where everybody went.”

  She lowered her eyes and tried a little too hard to make her eyelids flutter. “You really want to know?” she asked in a low, husky voice.

  If he wasn’t so interested in pilfering whatever intelligence she carried around in that airy brain of hers, he might have laughed right in her face. “Yeah.” He lowered his tone to make it as exaggeratedly serious as hers. “I really want to know.”

  ***

  Benjamin stumbled out of the bar, holding on to the doorframe for support. He staggered a few more feet and steadied himself on the pole of a street lamp. He wondered what the Sterns would do if they saw him. Probably send him away for good.

  A young girl in a miniskirt flitted her way toward him, swinging her hips and puckering her red painted lips. An unwelcome sense of desire stirred up in Benjamin, and he craned his neck to get a better view as she departed. She turned around once with a questioning look on her face. Benjamin smiled shyly and glanced away. He thought about the Secret Seminary students who left the Sterns’ house two weeks ago. They certainly wouldn’t give in to such base temptations. And what about his employer? Mr. Stern would never let a young tart in a short skirt turn his head, and Mrs. Stern certainly wouldn’t allow for it either. But the Americans weren’t Benjamin. Did they know what it was like having a Party official show up at your school and whisk you away to a prestigious training program? Did they know how it felt to receive an honor so high you weren’t even allowed to let your parents know where you were going or say good-bye to your brothers and sisters? Did they know what it was like being fed meat every day so you could grow to be the biggest and strongest elite agent, knowing your family — upper class by North Korean standards — was struggling to scrounge two meals a day?

  Benjamin held onto his spinning head. Maybe if the Sterns understood a little better, they wouldn’t begrudge him a night or two out when all he wanted to do was forget. Forget what it felt like to have a family you couldn’t care for. Forget what it felt like to act as the Party’s war machine. Unfortunately, living with the Sterns in their nice little mansion, fattening himself up in their nice little kitchen, sitting around listening to everyone sing their nice little hymns didn’t do anything to help Benjamin forget.

 
He tried their Western religion. He let Mr. Stern go so far as to baptize him in the oversized hot tub. It was the only time Benjamin had set foot in the master bathroom. He even tried to act like a Christian. But the promised peace never came. The platitudes and Bible verses the Sterns doled out didn’t ease the pain, and they certainly didn’t erase the memories.

  Benjamin didn’t have a watch, but he knew it was getting late. He just needed to sit down and steady himself before going home. He’d sober up by morning and do his usual work around the house and yard. Sometimes he felt like the Sterns were no different than his superiors from the Party; they only wanted a strong body to show off and keep potential enemies at bay.

  He shook his head. In a nearby alley, a young man rummaged through a trash pile. When he glanced up, Benjamin turned his face and stumbled away.

  ***

  In the alley outside the American restaurant, the aroma wasn’t quite as nauseating as in the main thoroughfare. It looked like Jae would be feasting on old vegetables and stale dinner rolls tonight. It was no worse than the way he was used to eating back in Chongsong.

  The money he stole from the captain had lasted long enough to bring him to Yanji. It had taken Jae two weeks to make the journey, but sources he met on his search for the broker all eventually pointed here. Jae still didn’t know which brothel to visit first, and he couldn’t exactly afford soliciting door to door. Even now, he just barely had the bribe money he’d need to cross the border and return to North Korea, but that didn’t matter. All he cared about was finding Sun. His hunt had brought him as far as Yanji. He only hoped his luck would last long enough to reach his sister before he went completely broke.