Jia

There were regular visitors to the cave whom nobody welcomed. They called themselves intermediaries; they said they could help us start new lives, that they knew all the good jobs in China. But no one trusted them. They were only nice to the young women; when they came to the cave, they looked around for new faces. After Sangwon and I had been there for a week, three of them showed up.

They lounged about the cave, checking each person’s face to see who was new. People just sat quietly or nodded their heads to the uninvited guests. The only reason they came was to persuade young women to go to town with them; women and children could get more food in town than a man could. If the men in the cave told them a woman didn’t want to go with them, the strangers couldn’t force her, but if she wanted to leave with them, nobody could stop her. We all knew they could report us to the police anytime they wished.

Ignoring the visitors, I hugged Sangwon and pretended to sleep. One of them spotted us, however, and drew near. He nudged Sangwon in the ribs and said, “Hey, Sangwon. You came back. We wondered if you were okay. We haven’t seen you for a long time. Is your leg any better?”

He looked around at the others, but they kept their heads lowered. Moving his face close to mine, he called loudly to his friends, “Hey, check out the new face!”

They surrounded me. One of them leered, “This place isn’t so comfortable for you. Is it, young lady?” He sat down and grabbed my hand. “You haven’t experienced the harsh world yet. Your white hands and face show it.”

They glared at Sangwon and he glowered back, then looked around the cave, appealing to others. There was Kangmin, who had a robust physique; he was the one who had found me, he always helped old people and children.

The man who had grabbed my hand stood up and threw Kangmin a furious look. “Why didn’t you report her to us? That was our deal, wasn’t it? We give you guys a nest, provide jobs for some of you, and don’t give you away to the police.”

The man came close to me again and sat down. “But she has a right to listen to what a good world we can show her,” he said, with a dirty smile. “And what a nice job she can get.”

The intermediaries’ job was selling women. As illegals on the Chinese side of the border, North Korean women found that their options were limited. Men could work on farms or at construction sites for a third or half the wages of legal laborers; children and the elderly could beg on the street. What could women do?

He stood up too and smiled. “Why do you want to live in a place that looks like a bomb hit it? It’s cold, and you might be captured and sent home at any moment. We are not bullying you; we can provide security and a happy life. Think about it: you’re young and pretty, all kinds of opportunities await you out there, but if you reject them, you get nothing.”

The man didn’t follow us, but he spoke loudly so everyone else could hear. “We won’t force you, just think about it. You want to take care of Sangwon. Right? You can make money to cure his rotten leg, and help him get a regular education. Think about how pathetic he is. He’ll lose his leg pretty soon. After a while, his whole body may rot.”

The man put his hands in his pockets and whistled to his friends to leave. “You can think about it until the next time. Bye, Sangwon. Take care of that leg.”

As the men departed, people exhaled sighs of relief. I was frightened; they said they didn’t force people, but it was clearly a threat. I looked at Sangwon’s leg, the man’s suggestion ringing in my head.

Sangwon looked at me angrily and said, “Don’t even think about it. Don’t trust them, they are scoundrels. Everything they say is pure trash. They work for their own greedy stomachs, not for us. They sell women every day.”

I rested my hand on his head and assured Sangwon I wasn’t taken in by their suggestion. But I was concerned as I looked around the cave. It was a temporary shelter for all of us. None of us knew where we could go or how we would make a living elsewhere, but we also knew the cave wasn’t safe. Sangwon and I had made plans to move on in a matter of weeks. We needed more time to get over our physical problems. Sangwon suggested we go to a big city, where it would be easier to hide our identities and to adjust. We decided to depend on each other until it was best to separate. His leg was looking better as the weather warmed up, but the man’s warning that Sangwon’s body would fall apart stayed with me.

Several days later, the men returned early in the morning, before anyone had left for town. They didn’t harass me, but I didn’t like their smiles as they shuffled around, full of entitlement.

“You didn’t run away just because of hunger—did you commit a crime? Do you have some secret you can’t tell us?” He sat in front of me. I took a step back and averted my face.

A woman who had arrived at the cave when we did was speaking to the men privately. One of them touched her shoulder and said, “That’s a good decision. You won’t regret it.” Then they took her to a corner of the cave and spoke to her in a low voice; she nodded and went back to her place. She quietly packed her belongings and sat down, avoiding the eyes of the people watching her. She told her story to the woman who slept next to her.

She had crossed the border carrying her two-year-old daughter on her back. She said that as she was crossing the river, something yanked on her hair, but she didn’t turn back. After she got across, she took her daughter down off her back and found that she was dead. The thing pulling on her hair was her drowning daughter. When she arrived at the cave, her spirits were low. She was a gazelle-eyed woman who seemed unable to endure the hardship. She spent her days in silence, watching the ceiling. Sometimes, at night, we could hear her muffled crying. No one could console her.

The cave dwellers were used to such tragedies; many of them had similar stories themselves. They tried to ignore her and sleep, as they were loath to be reminded of their own sadness.

In the days that followed, people went back to their own business, working on the outside and trying to save for their futures. Nobody knew how much money others kept and what kind of food they had in their backpacks. We all had our secret hiding places. It was the strictest rule not to touch other people’s belongings.

The morning after the unwelcome visitors left, as people were getting ready to leave for the day, Kangmin called to Sangwon, “Did you know there is a party in town today?”

“Today is that grandfather’s birthday—in the Zhang family. I’m sure you can get a lot of food; the old guy especially likes you, doesn’t he?” Kangmin smiled.

Bangmu, who was always with Kangmin, spoke up, “He’s an old guy. At his age it is easy to forget things. Why don’t you go? I’m sure they’ve started the party by now.”

Bangmu put his hand on Sangwon’s shoulder and said, “Why don’t you go with me? She can’t carry a lot of food, but I can help you. We’ll bring back a load of food and have a party here. In the meantime, Kangmin and Jia can find bush clover so we can cook rice and scorched rice water.”

Sangwon grabbed his coat, “Let’s go then. Sister, I will be back soon. Try to find as much clover as possible. I’m going to bring a lot of food so all of us can eat to our hearts’ content.” He proudly tapped his chest.

Kangmin walked really fast. I liked him; he never said much, but everyone trusted him. People in the cave didn’t talk about their past lives. Sangwon said people used to speak freely about their work back home, and why they had decided to cross the river. But then some were arrested by the North Korean police, and they divulged other people’s secrets to lessen their punishment. After that, people exchanged warm greetings in the cave, but no one shared their past.

As we climbed down the mountain, however, Kangmin told me about himself. He said he had to support his seven brothers and sisters in North Korea. He was a soldier who had firmly trusted in communism and still believed the ideology. He had a nine-year-old brother who was born blind but was full of energy and ambition. One day, his brother disappeared—he went outside by himself and was so hungry he ate some poisonous grass without realizing it. After that, he couldn’t speak or hear at all; he lost every connection to the world. That’s when Kangmin had decided to cross the border, in the hope of saving some money and eventually bringing his brothers and sisters back with him to China.

The three men who had visited the cave earlier suddenly appeared through the bushes. They approached us. One smiled andsaid, “Oh, whatacoincidence! Sangwon’syoungmother!”

With them was a woman I hadn’t seen before. She wore thick makeup. Her long hair, parted in the middle, hung down to her waist, and her tiny, button-shaped eyes contrasted sharply with her long eyebrows, which swept back to her hairline.

My head was reeling. I turned to Kangmin, who was standing apart from us. His eyes were evasive. He murmured, “It won’t be so bad for you—it will be better than this place. I’m doing this for you…and for my brothers and sisters. Please remember that you are saving several lives. I promise I’ll take care of Sangwon.” His voice wobbled.

Sometimes, in life, people cross unexpectedly into a different world. For me, such a crossing happened in that moment. I had often imagined how I would react to difficult situations, how I would handle myself, whether I would be brave or meek. But a scenario such as this had not figured into my wildest speculations.

I was frozen, and there was no sound in my throat. I tried to reach for something familiar; I turned to Kangmin’s face one more time, but he would not meet my eyes.

Kangmin didn’t pick it up right away. Like me, he was frozen. I wanted to ask him what was going on—perhaps he could explain it all and everything would be resolved. Surely there had been a mistake. I took a step toward him, but one of the men grabbed my arm and the strange woman covered my mouth and nose with a white cloth. I saw Kangmin’s face lose focus, and again I tried to reach out my hand. The last thing I saw was his cold, hollow eyes. I struggled to keep them in sight, fighting to keep my eyelids open, but his eyes swirled and grew bigger until they were consuming my whole body. I passed out.