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Once I got to China, maybe you’d get to thinking my problems would be over. And The Nightmare was over for sure, and there’s no way I’m gonna ever stop being grateful on that account, but even when I go a week or maybe more without thinking about it, that don’t mean I’ve ever really forgotten, much as I’ve prayed to.
China, well, it wasn’t like I growed up believing, where there was food you could just pick off of trees or stuff and nonsense like that. Far as I could tell, it was a lot like back home. There weren’t no famine, but that didn’t mean everybody you met was gonna share with you. And I was older by then, and I already told you how it’s harder to make grown-ups feel sorry for you the older you get, unless you’re a girl, ’cause I figure they have an easier time on account of looking more sad-like or whatnot. And now that I think about it, I don’t remember seeing no girl runaways like me living on the streets in China, so maybe they all found nice folks to take them in.
Anyway, I guess if I hadn’t gone through The Nightmare, I probably woulda been pretty down. But it’s kinda like going to them doctors who fix up your teeth. It’s plenty uncomfortable sitting in that chair while they’re scraping all the bad germs off, especially the ones further back. But then if they have to use the drill once, and you go back the next time and they don’t, you’re not gonna complain. That’s kinda what happened to me in China. It wasn’t easy, but it was better than where I’d been. Still, sometimes I’d fall asleep so scared to wake up back in the Nightmare, except that never happened, thank God.
One of the things that surprised me about China was how many Koreans was living there. And I don’t mean runaways like me who sneaked over the border. There was them kinds too, but even if we did see each other, we didn’t do much talking together on account of us not wanting to get in trouble. In China, the police will send you back home if they catch you, and by home I don’t mean to whatever village you come from, I mean places like The Nightmare. ’Cause if they do bad things to you like that just for picking up a little black can of film, you can swear on the Dear Leader they’d do it to you if they catched you running all the way off to China.
So at first, I spent all my time hiding from the police and searching for food. There was more of that over there, like I told you, but that didn’t mean it was easy to get. I did all right, though, like sometimes someone would give me half their lunch leftover from a restaurant, and you don’t ever see that happening back home. And it wasn’t winter, so that was another good thing, since finding a place to live didn’t sound quite so pressing. One of the saddest parts was on account of missing Auntie so much. And one of my worst regrets — aside from having to live at The Nightmare to start with — was I never got to say good-bye to Auntie, and sometimes I get scared that she thinks I ran away. But I loved her, and that’s the Pyongyang-perfect truth, and she was the only person in Chongjin I can say that about. ’Course I’m not talking about the kinda love in those movies Pastor likes to watch where there’s a cowboy and a curly-haired lady in a checkered dress or stuff and nonsense like that. It weren’t that kinda love at all, ’cause Auntie was already a teenager and probably my best friend I’ve ever had, so that woulda been gross. But I didn’t love her the same way I loved Mama or Papa from the old days neither, ’cause with them it was more like I needed them to take care of me. I guess I needed Auntie to take care of me too, but it was different on account of her never yelling at me or bossing me around none. Even when she asked me to tell the other blossoms a story or go get those herbs for breakfast, she always asked, and it was always real polite-like. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever meet someone I’ll love as much as Auntie, and I’m not talking about Pastor and Miss Sandy neither, ’cause I love them too, but that hardly counts.
So I had enough to eat — it wasn’t loads but it was enough — and I didn’t hafta worry about the cold, so I figure China started off all right. And you know how I said it took time to learn how to be a flower swallow? It was like that in China too, except there was new rules now, like the one I already told you about not letting the police catch you. And pretty soon I learnt the police wouldn’t only get you in trouble for being a runaway, they’d get you in trouble if you helped a runaway, even if all you did was give him a little bit of food.
Well, I didn’t have any more of that angel’s money on account of having to use it all up on the trains and then on paying a man to help me get into China without too much fuss, but I got to figuring later on that the money was different over the river anyway, so I’m not even sure mine woulda worked anymore. But you know what’s surprising, Teacher? Even if the money’s not all the same, the language was, ’least in that part of China. It made it easier for me on account of most people there understanding what I was saying, even if some of them were too scared to help me on account of those police I already told you about. And some were mean and some weren’t, but with the mean ones I didn’t feel sad afterwards, and with the nice ones I never felt that happy, neither, and I figure after you go through something like The Nightmare, it just takes a little while ’til you start feeling things proper-like again, except I didn’t know that at the time.
Anyway, one day someone asked what I was doing in this little alley, so I said nothing, just resting. And he lowered his voice and told me about this house where they take kids in with no place to go, and he explained to me how to get there. So I went, only I wasn’t feeling hopeful like you might expect on account of getting myself a new home, and I didn’t feel anxious neither or wonder what I’d do if they didn’t end up helping me. I just showed up at the door, and I knew it was the right house on account of it having a little cross in the window like the man said there’d be. I knocked, and that’s the first time I remember feeling much of anything in China besides loneliness because the girl who opened the door was about the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.
She had long black hair, which I guess weren’t unusual for a girl, except it was softer than anything I coulda imagined. And when I say softer, I guess I mean it looked softer on account of me not actually touching it, even though I wanted to. And you know what’s funny? I figure I’d been in China for at least a few weeks by then, maybe a month or longer, but that was the first time I really remember wanting something besides food or going back to see Auntie again. And what I wanted was to touch her hair to see if it was as silky as it seemed. Her eyes looked like she was doing you a favor just by looking at you, and I’ve never seen eyes like that on anyone here in Medford, not even Becky Linklater, even though you gotta admit hers are a pretty shade of green.
The really good part was this girl here, the one at the door I mean, she was my age where you’re not a little kid anymore but you’re not a teenager yet, neither. And part of me wants to say she looked shy, except I don’t think that’s right. She looked quiet, but not like a mouse who’s afraid of you. Maybe more like a cat who’s interested in you but doesn’t need to sniff your hand like it would if it were a dog. And her eyes were big compared to the rest of her, so you got this feeling she must notice an awful lot, and all that seeing probably made her especially smart, except not in the snobby way where she’d just brag on about how much she knowed compared to you.
Her clothes weren’t too poor and they definitely weren’t too rich, neither, and it was the same with how skinny she was — not so much she looked sick or whatnot, but you kinda got this feeling her family had enough food except not any extra. I heard a chicken cluck out back just then, so I figured there must be eggs nearby, and those are mighty good for an empty belly, so I said, “Hey.”
She didn’t answer back, and that’s the part I mean about her being kinda shy, except not really in the scared way. More like she didn’t want to trouble you by talking too much. But I remember wanting to hear her voice near as bad as I wanted to touch her hair, so I said hey again. And this time she said it back. I already told you that Miss Sandy listens to that Jesus music all the time, and sometimes it gets to a part that’s so pretty it kinda makes your heart hurt a little, and that’s exactly what happened when I heard her voice. She said, “You can come in.” And you know that leap I told you once I got in my chest? It happened then too, and it kept happening as long as I stayed in that house.
Next she said, “You can sit down,” and I thought I was filling up with so much happiness I’d explode, ’cause I already told you how I wasn’t feeling much of that when I first got to China, so now I figured it was so much good feelings that my heart wasn’t sure how to stretch to make room for them all. She said, “I’ll go call my father,” and while she was out, I kept picturing what kind of person could raise a daughter as pretty and sweet as that ’cause even though I’d only met her a minute earlier, I could tell how sweet she was with her quiet voice and big eyes. I kept expecting her father to come in and he’d be real tall with wide shoulders and look more like a prince than a farmer or whatnot. Maybe he’d have white hair, and he’d look all wise, and he’d walk in just as graceful as his girl and say, “My daughter tells me we have a guest.”
Except that’s not what happened.
The man who came in was pudgy, not fat like the Dear Leader, but not skinny like folks from back home neither. And half his head was bald and half of it weren’t, like he couldn’t decide if he was ready to be an old man yet or not. And you know how I told you about his daughter having such a kind face? Well his wasn’t like that at all. He pinched his nose up when he looked at me, and it reminded me of the man with the mustache who got me in trouble about the American’s film, and then when he spoke, his voice wasn’t soft and kind like his daughter’s and neither were his words.
“Who told you to come here?”
And I was so startled it took me a few tries to explain to him there was a man in the alley who told me to find the house with the cross in the window.
So he asked, “What are you doing here?” And I thought I’d already answered that question, but I didn’t want to say the same thing as before and sound stupid, so I looked at the girl, and she was standing there still smiling so sweet like this kinda thing happened every day. Eventually I learnt that it did, or ’least a few times a week. Over the next few months I watched it go on enough times I figured Mr. Kim — that was the man’s name by the way, but I guess you coulda figured that out yourself — he just talked that way out of habit or whatnot, ’cause he weren’t a mean person, ’least not so mean he’d kick you out of his house and tell you he couldn’t help.
So before I knew it, Mr. Kim was standing above me while I drank some of the tea his daughter made. Her name was So-Young, but I didn’t learn that for a few more days on account of Mr. Kim never telling me and me being too scared to ask her myself. But I heard it one night when a friend of the family stopped by. He was a young man, probably young enough to be Mr Kim’s son, except he weren’t, and he called the pretty girl Cousin, so I started to worry she might not have a real name of her own. And now that Mr. Kim was feeding me and I had a place to live, the one thing I wanted most besides feeling if her hair was as silky as it looked was finding out her name so I could decide if it was as pretty as she was. I finally learnt it when us kids were supposed to be asleep, and Mr. Kim and his visitor stayed up gabbing. They talked about me for a while, so ’course I stayed up to listen, and Mr. Kim said, “He’s obedient enough, but I wonder what kind of influence he’s having on So-Young.”
And So-Young and me was never buddies on account of my heart racing any time she was around, so I bet she figured I was the silliest creature she and her dad ever took into their home. There weren’t no mama there, by the way, but I never asked why. So-Young never got to be my girlfriend neither on account of me figuring I’d wait a few more years until we got to know each other better. ’Cause my plan was to go on living there until I was a grown man, and by then I’d have the courage to make So-Young my girlfriend and eventually my wife if she’d have me, except that weren’t what happened.
Mr. Kim sat me down one day after I’d been a few months there, and he chose a time when So-Young was out delivering eggs to a neighbor, and I thought maybe he knowed all about me planning to marry his daughter and was gonna ask me how I was gonna take care of her, except he didn’t. He said, “You’ll be leaving here tomorrow,” and that’s just the way he talked, didn’t use no names or stuff and nonsense like that. And come to think of it, I’m not sure he ever even knew my name, which means maybe So-Young didn’t either, and that could be a problem ’cause when I’m old enough I’m still planning to find her to see if she’s got a husband yet or if maybe she thinks I’ll do. And I don’t think about it too much these days on account of something like that being so far in the future. But back then when Mr. Kim said I was gonna hafta leave, I was sadder than I’d be if Pastor told me all them Christmas presents under the tree with my name on them were really for his grandson Tyson, who’s younger than me and basically a spoiled brat anyway.
So Mr. Kim went on to explain there was this lady in South Korea who kept an orphanage for kids like me, and how he expected me to travel there with her helpers without any whining or complaining, and I nodded my head on account of wanting to make him think I was paying good attention, but all I was thinking about was sweet, shy So-Young, and how I’d never even touched her hair but tomorrow I’d be going away to some other home far away in South Korea.
And whether I was ready for it or not, that’s just what happened.