Jia: A Novel of North Korea (26 page)

I turned to leave, but he seized my arm, snarling, "I
warned you. Don't embarrass me. They came here to enjoy
themselves tonight, and if you leave like this, you will regret it, I promise."

I didn't know what I was doing; I only knew I had to escape. When he dragged me back to the table, I grabbed
the nearest object and slung it at his head. Shattered glass
spread all over the room. With a sharp scream-"You
wretch!"-he tumbled to the floor, clutching his head.
There were shrieks as a few people lunged for me. I covered my head and crouched in a corner to make my body
as small as possible.

At that moment, one thick, low, commanding Chinese voice emerged above the yelling. I didn't move. As
he spoke, the others quieted. When I raised my head, the
young man who had received the penalty of taking off his
tie grasped the stout man by the arm and accompanied him
out of the room.

The stout man's voice spread through the hall. "Ifyou guys
don't kill that crazy bitch, I'll burn this building down."

I was dragged to the room with the tiger-skin sofa, the
sajat nim's office. Two men stood next to me, holding clubs
covered in white towels. The boss opened the door with
a bang and rushed into the room, her high heels clacking
viciously. I raised my head and saw that her face had already
turned a dark red.

Her eyebrows whirling, she bellowed, "You crazy vagrant! Do you know what you did tonight?" She kicked
at my chest with her shoes. "You can never leave this place
now. You're here for good."

She snatched a club from someone's hand and swung it
around at me. I heard her snapping and snarling at me in
time with the thuds on my body. I passed out.

When I opened my eyes, the woman who had helped me
in the karaoke room was looking down at me, holding a
cigarette. "They beat you the clever way," she said.

I tried to stand up, but my shoulders felt stuck to the
floor like magnets.

"You'd better not move. They wrapped their clubs in
towels-it prevents bruising. Your skin won't show any
surface bruises, but you'll have a lot of them inside."

My nose felt clogged; it was hard to breathe. I looked
around for a handkerchief and the woman gave me hers. It
had a strong perfume smell. I unfolded it and blew my nose.
There was a lump of blood. "Sorry," I rasped.

Her voice was flat. "It's okay. I have a bunch of hankies."

I looked at her cigarette. It was the first time I was ever
tempted to smoke. "Thanks for trying to help me."

She moved her cigarette so the ashes would not drop
on my face. "I wasn't helping you, I was trying to earn my
money. That's our job, making them drink. They pay money and we satisfy their every dirty request. The more they
drink, the better for our pockets, even though their behavior gets ugly. Don't think you're special, or purer than us!"

I broke in, "I have never thought I'm special, that's not why
I made a fuss. I came to China for a better life, not for this.
That doesn't mean I blame the women who work here."

She stood up and headed to the door, sighing, "I have to
go," as she stepped into her orange high heels.

"Did you get your money for the night? Or did you get
nothing, because of me?" I couldn't see her eyes, but I was
sure she didn't like her job either.

"I got nothing. Thanks to you."

I felt ashamed of my behavior. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean
for that to happen."

"Oh, well. I just hope I'm not in the same room as you
next time." Stepping out of the room, she looked back.
"Did you study singing?"

I nodded slightly.

"I liked your voice."

"Pack your things." The owner stalked into the room; I
hadn't seen her since she had beat me senseless with a club.
Mija was taking care of me. She had changed her hairstyle,
and it looked so strange on her. My body had recovered
somewhat, but I couldn't stop retching.

The owner found an empty, worn-out backpack in the
corner of the room and threw it at me. "Hurry. Just pack
the things you really need."

I could barely sit up. I stared at her. "I don't have anything to pack. How does a person who was dragged here
against her will have time to bring her own things?"

Ignoring me, she snapped to two men at her side, "Take
her."

"Where is she going?" Mija asked, fearfully.

The owner shouted, "Take her. Hurry!"

I tried not to move, but it was impossible to resist the
men.

We were already near the end of the hall when the owner shouted behind me, "Your temper can destroy people
around you. Leaving will be better for you and for us."

My feet never touched the ground; the men held me up
by my armpits. I asked them, through gritted teeth, "Where
are you sending me?"

"To a better place."

They dragged me to a white car in front of the building
and forced me into the front seat. I screamed and struggled
to free myself; I couldn't imagine a worse place, but I somehow knew that one was waiting for me.

I heard the sound of the car doors locking, and turned to look out the back window at my captors as the car pulled
away. The only difference between today and the day I was
taken from the cave was the size of the car. It was a sedan,
and it smelled like leather, not sour flesh. The car moved
fast and without a sound.

I shot a sidelong glance at the driver. I could just make
out his profile. It was the young man who had restrained
the stout bully on my first night on the job.

here were taxis everywhere. I remembered a director
of the hotel back in Pyongyang proudly explaining to
foreign guests that the city had over 100 taxis; I gave up
counting after I reached 40. Pyongyang taxis were overpriced and definitely not popular with the natives, but the
streets in China were filled with red taxis, and most had customers inside. Perhaps the taxis were not as expensive here.

The traffic was a stew of cars, bicycles, and pedestrians,
all forging ahead without consideration for each other. I
even saw two donkeys pulling a cart filled with straw and
big black baskets. Watching through the window of the
stranger's car, it seemed to me impossible that so many different kinds of transportation could flow in such a narrow
space, without any control by traffic police.

Just a few minutes away from the karaoke bar, storefront signs changed entirely to Chinese. It was the first time I
felt I was in China. And I was sitting next to a strange
Chinese man.

He drove in silence. I wanted to ask where he was taking
me, but I was sure he spoke only Chinese. I remembered
that he had been the calmest man in the room. A flurry of
thoughts troubled my brain. He was there with the stout man;
he must be his friend. It's true he helped me escape, but he might
take me to an even worse place. Why did he buy me? He might
have bought me for the stout man. He'll take me to him and I'll be
killed. Or he might be a policeman. He pretended to be a customer
in order to look for North Koreans. His real purpose was to catch
us. But the stout man made a fuss, so this matt had to return to
finish his mission. I had better run from this stranger.

He sensed my restlessness and said something in Chinese. I was silent and gave him a sideways glance. A moment later, he asked me, very slowly, in English, "Do you
speak English?" I nodded my head once, though I knew
only a few words. He looked at me for a second, turned his
eyes back to the steering wheel, and said, "Don't worry. I'm
not heading to the police or taking you to the fat man."

He seemed to be reading my mind, and it made me
more anxious.

He continued, "I know what kind of person you are. I
know why you are so afraid, but I'm not someone who will
denounce a woman."

I felt a rush of relief; he had saved me from the stout
man, but what was he doing? What did he want from me?

"Did you buy me from them?" I asked suspiciously.

He looked straight ahead and nodded. "Yes."

I sat upright in the seat. "Why?" I fixed my eyes on the
side of his face, gripping the door handle. If I didn't like his answer I would jump out of the car. Dying would be better
than being dragged who knows where. I clenched my teeth.

After a long while, he replied, "Why? I don't know."
He shrugged gently. "Have you met other North Koreans
here?" he asked, changing the topic.

I didn't know what to make of him. His answers were
unexpected and his questions were strange too. "Yes," I
answered, shortly.

"How do they make a living here? Do they live as you
do?"

I watched him, thinking about Sangwon and Mija.
"Much worse."

"Jesus!" he sighed.

We drove for about an hour without speaking much. I
asked him several times more what his real purpose was in
buying me, to which he replied, "You just looked pathetic."

"I was in debt to the owner of the karaoke bar," I said.
"Your sympathy saved me from repaying that, I guess." I
didn't know what else to say. Instead of feeling grateful,
fear of being in a car with a strange man rose up inside me.
"What will you do with me?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about that. I was just
busy negotiating the price with your boss," he answered, as
though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"How much did you pay? I'll pay you back. I am not a
dog waiting for a master to come along." My voice reflected
my embarrassment.

He spoke lightly, "First of all, I don't raise dogs, I'm too
busy to take care of dogs. Anyway, you were more expensive than the other women, according to the owner of that
karaoke bar. But how would you pay me back? Did you
bring money from your country?"

I couldn't reply. Of course he knew I didn't have any
money. I felt I was pushed against the wall. Did he buy me
out of sympathy? He must have something to hide. I was
busy trying to read his mind, and he seemed preoccupied
with trying to read mine.

"I don't know much about North Korea," he continued,
"but I know people there don't have contact with foreigners and foreign things. I have a hunch that you, however,
may not be typical, that you had some sort of high position.
Am I right?" he cast me a searching glance.

I remained silent and looked ahead, avoiding his eyes.

"It's okay. It doesn't matter.... You don't have to tell me
if you don't want to." We rode in silence for a moment. At
length, he said, "When I saw you in that awful place, I just
felt you really wanted out. And this was what I could do."

We rapidly left the city behind; buildings became fewer and
fewer, replaced by tree-covered mountains. The western sky
lit up with the crimson glow of the setting sun and I felt for
the first time that China was beautiful. After passing several
big houses, he stopped the car in front of a fancy one, and got
out of the car to smoke. Watching the sunset, he stretched his
body. He was much taller than other men I had met.

I didn't move from my seat. We were all alone; I felt it
wouldn't be so hard to escape. Should I run away? Could I
run away? If I did, where would I go next? I looked around
the car. Behind the back seat, the head of a small bulldog
doll bobbed back and forth.

When I turned back, the man was looking at me with a
half smile. "Are you going to stay there all night?" He leaned
in through the driver's side window. "This is my house."

He walked around the car and opened the door for me. I got out, and he locked it, saying, "Let's go." I didn't budge
an inch. "No one will hurt you. It'll be okay." He held my
arm lightly and led me into the house. At that moment, my
gut told me he was someone who wouldn't lie to me. I followed him inside.

The house was dark and seemed empty; the entryway was
bare and chilly compared to the warm air outside.

"It will be a little bit cold, sorry; I haven't used this house
for a while. I'm doing my best to make it cozy, though."
He looked for the light and turned it on, and I caught the
smell of new furniture. "Like you, I've just arrived. I don't
know this place very well, either, but I like the surroundings. There are not a lot of neighbors-I haven't talked to
any yet, but a couple seemed nice."

In the living room, he drew aside ivory curtains to reveal almost an entire wall made of glass. I could see a few
houses and a thickly wooded hill. "Isn't it pretty?" my host
said. "It's hard to find a house with this kind of view in
China." With a satisfied smile, he took in the scene for a
moment, then stroked a cream-colored sofa, which looked
soft. "Let me introduce you to the house. Come on." After
several steps, he wheeled around and said, "Oh, we'd better
eat something first. Right? I haven't eaten since noon."

He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the sofa,
motioning me to follow him. Opposite the big window
was a kitchen with stainless-steel cupboards and appliances.
He opened a huge, fully stocked refrigerator and took out
several plastic bags containing meat and vegetables.