8,273 words.

Back in the 60s Busan was all rice fields and factories. Factories making shit for America. Shoes, brooms, cups, and wigs, you name it, they made it. They’d slap the "Made in Korea" sticker on it, put it on a ship, and send it over there. Now they make all of that bullshit in China. Most people in this country are too rich to do that kind of work. Back then a lot of the metal shops were started to help supply the factories. They’ve been there almost as long.
Man-su had heard this conversation countless times. There wasn’t much to discuss when it came to Man-su and he liked it that way. Still, during holidays or family outings, everyone had to take his turn on the chopping block. Even Man-su.
He focused on his partially empty shot glass and was turning it in time with the second hand of his watch. A couple times he tried to turn the glass faster. Hoping it just might make time go faster. The history of Busan’s metal shops continued around him. Eventually the conversation would turn from Man-su’s job, to Man-su’s marriage, or lack thereof. He knew that. A couple of jokes would be tossed around, some hard advice, and then he could disappear until the next holiday.
“Hey. Man-su. How old are you now?”
It was his father’s third older brother. He had a glazed, but serious look in his eye and he teetered back and forth as he waited for an answer. Man-su glanced at his watch. It was 2:50 p.m. He pretended to be deep in thought until someone answered for him.
“Thirty Four.”
“Why don’t you get married?”
And there it was. As uncomfortable as Man-su was at least now the crescendo was at hand. In a matter of minutes it would be over. Man-su would return to his undistinguished position as the 3rd boy of four in the 7th of nine children. Someone nudged him and offered the bottle of soju. Man-su held out his cup with two hands.
The stilted silence turned to the declining birth rate in Korea. It veered toward young people getting married later in life and Man-su braced for what he thought would be one last hurdle. But then, in a stroke of pure luck, one of the women came blasting into the room with several containers of fresh raw fish. Drunken chopsticks descended as quickly as the containers were set down and all conversation stopped.
The corners of his mouth started to go up. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to raise his glass in the air and toast his good fortune. He drank the soju in a single shot. He eagerly picked up a pair of chopsticks, grabbed two large chunks of fish, dunked them in red pepper sauce, and stuffed them into his mouth and chewed them for a long time. He wouldn’t have to use his mouth for anything else that day.
People joked that Man-su was shy. He disagreed. In his mind he was a private person in a culture that did not value privacy. His mother for one didn’t understand this, but at least she was aware of it. Other people flatly disliked him. They thought he was unfriendly and selfish.
When Man-su was a young boy and his family was just beginning to not be poor, there were nine of them living in a three bedroom apartment. When Man-su’s grandmother was still alive that made 10. Ten people living under one roof. Man-su would wander from room to room, counting the number of people in each room and sleeping where the fewest people lay. Even then he'd sleep in the corner, as far away from the others as possible.
But often times he’d wake up in the room with the most people. He used to think ghosts were scooping him up and moving him from room to room, maybe punishing him for trying to be alone. His mother was very superstitious and deeply feared ghosts. His family always ate red bean soup on the appropriate days to protect them from spirits, and if Man-su was caught standing under a doorway his mother would push him away as if she were saving him from fire. As the story goes, spirits caught between the two worlds seek refuge in doorways.
It wasn’t until years later he realized it was his mother, not ghosts that were shuffling him around during the night. She’d stick him in the most crowded part of the room that had the most people. Trying to break him of his lonely habit. He’d wake up with legs or arms on top of him. Five or six people snoring loudly.
His Mom was trying to do what she thought was best for him. But Man-su couldn’t help it. How could he possibly survive during his mandatory military service? He’d have to sleep with 100 people in a room. Less than 12 inches separating him from his bunkmates. It just wasn’t healthy, she thought.
Lucky for Man-su, by the time he had to go to the military his family had become lightning rich. His father paid off the right people and Man-su got two years of his life back. The idea of Man-su existing in the military was ridiculous. Even though most thought he desperately needed the discipline. People would have labeled him eccentric had such a concept existed in the Korean language. People thought he was strange and left it at that.
Being one of nine children people tended to not focus on him. He was a male, which drew attention in itself, but thankfully he wasn’t the oldest. He wasn't the cutest or ugliest. He was of average height, weight, and intelligence. He was just Man-su. He didn’t want to go to college and he didn’t want to work for his father. He liked books, not TV. He got a job making pipes at a shop in the metal district of Busan. He rode the bus for an hour each way to work. End of story.
Man-su‘s parents were fond of saying that they had decided, that as long as the business was growing, they'd keep having children. And they did. When they finally stopped having children, their children started having children. As long as there was enough money to keep everyone fed, why stop? That was the thinking.
Man-su’s father owned a company that cleaned the insides of shipping containers. He’d quit high school and moved from tiny Yangsan to Busan. He got a job loading and unloading ships. Busan was just starting to emerge as one of the bigger shipping ports in Asia. At the time he wasn’t all that sure what he should do in life, but he had a haunch that he ought to make shipping part of it. He learned the ropes, and at 22 years of age, started his own one-man cleaning company. He’d walk from pier to pier offering his services, carrying his supplies in a little plastic basket. He worked hard and charged a low price. In a stroke of luck, he started getting regular work from one of the American companies. He didn’t speak a word of English beyond “hello,” but they liked him. They thought he was cute. He was short and non-threatening. He always bowed deeply when he came to clean. They started using his services exclusively. The business started to grow and he was soon working seven days a week, sometimes 20 hours in a day.
It was at that time he figured he’d better get a wife. To keep things organized on the home front. He went down to a marriage agency in Busan with his father. With the aid of some traditional Buddhist numerology and a big blue book full of photographs, Man-su’s grandfather and a fortune teller picked the girl who would be Man-su’s mother. A week later they’d met each other’s families and a week after that they had the ceremony. They moved into a small one-room apartment within walking distance to the piers.
Soon the American company recommended his service to another American company who in turn recommended him to another. Man-su’s father had to hire two, six, and then 10 people to work for him. Shipping to and from Busan expanded as the Korean economy surged during the 1970s. The goods being shipped in and out of Korea changed from light industry and consumer products, to heavy industry and chemicals. The regulations for shipping in Korea became strict. People needed more sophisticated cleanings. Business exploded.
People teased Man-su‘s father that he was living the American Dream. He was. He had a big family and moved back to Yangsan, the countryside city where he grew up. He drove to work in a Cadillac. He ate steak whenever he wanted. He took up golf. He and Man-su's mother even became Christian at the urging of one the American clients.
Man-su’s father always tried to highlight the fact that his marriage had been a key factor in his success. When this didn’t take hold he tried more forceful measures. Threatening to kick Man-su out of the house. Badgering him, even calling him names. But in the end he gave up. Conversely, his mother never pushed him. She had learned from when Man-su was younger that, like it or not, he had his own mind.
Man-su's father was always very generous to his children. Whatever dream they wanted to pursue in life, he would help in any way he could. Some of Man-su's brothers and sisters worked for their father’s company. He gave money to Man-su's third sister to open her own duck restaurant in Seoul. Within five years she had opened 10 more. Man-su's fourth sister started her own fan company, making them mostly by hand in her apartment. Two years later she opened a factory in Vietnam and was soon producing fans, scarves, rain boots, and pocketbooks.
No one really knew or understood why Man-su had such low ambition. Some speculated that he never had to want for money. By the time he was a teenager, his family had plenty, so he never felt a need to earn any. But that didn’t explain his two younger siblings, who like all their other brothers and sisters, were successful. Together they had started a company developing real estate.
He had never even moved out from the family home. All the other siblings had gone away to University. They got jobs, got married. One of Man-su’s sisters lived at home until she got married at 29. People had raised their eyebrows at that. Twenty-nine was almost too old. Man-su fell off the radar. His brothers and sisters basically gave up the idea and let him save face. He lived in the same bedroom in his parent’s house as when they moved to Yangsan. His mother still made his breakfast in the morning, and at night he still lay on the floor heater curled up with a book. Just like he did when he was 12.
When he was in his late 20s his parents made one last effort to get Man-su to move out of the house. By then he was working in the metal shop and his parents urged him to buy an apartment closer to work. For the sake of convenience. Man-su always acted like it was a good idea. A couple times during his lunchtime at the metal shop he even looked at apartments. But over time the idea died away, and so did his parents urgings. Once he turned 30, they totally stopped bringing up the idea. The situation was beyond discussion. He was there, he was staying put, and that was it.
Sometimes Man-su’s father blamed his mother for spoiling her son. He told her to let Man-su make his own breakfast. She did. But Man-su simply stopped eating in the morning, and his mother couldn’t bear that. Thus ended project self-sufficiency.
But then some unexpected news spawned the first genuine crisis in Man-su’s life. Following the example of some friends in their church, Man-su's parents decided to open a Christian elementary school in Jianhe, a poor, remote town in western China. The move would not be permanent, but getting the school off the ground would take several years. They would leave in three months time, and would probably be gone for three, four, or maybe five years.
Man-su’s father made the announcement at a family get together at a boiled pork restaurant. Everyone was shocked, but they were supportive in the way that he had always been with them. He told the family he expected people to visit then in China, and that they would return to Korea once or twice a year during holidays or anytime a new grandchild was born.
After the initial surprise of the announcement died down there was some chatter amongst the brothers and sisters. People wondered how the situation would affect their lives. Man-su could forsee what was coming. He sat there, rolling boiled pork into bean paste filled lettuce leaves and stuffing them in his mouth again and again, as if to appear muzzled.
But soon all the pork was gone and all that was left were concerned faces and several bottles of liquor. His father, brothers, and brother-in-laws all began to slowly make their way down to Man-su’s side of the table. He saw them coming, and he knew the years of evasion tactics, indifference, and fear, was about to rain down on him at once. As each of his brothers sidled up to him with grave looks on their faces, the light around him began to disappear. He could feel their hot breaths, already reeking of alcohol, closing in. Man-su cast a fleeting glance in the direction of his mother, who was minding the children along with his sister and sister-in-laws, far on the other side of the room.
“You need a wife.”
“You need to get a wife now.”
“Why don’t you get a better job Man-su, this is serious.”
“Drink this.”
“Man-su, you have been living with our mother’s care for 34 years. You can’t take care of yourself.”
“Our parents are leaving. You need to be a man.”
“Cheers!””Have you ever had sex with a woman Man-su?”
“What do you do with the money you get from your job?”
“You need to get married.”
“Why don’t you come work for the family company? I can put you in a nice position where you don’t have to work.”
“Drink this.”
“I can introduce you to a very nice girl next week. She’s a hairdresser. So beautiful.”
“Man-su, what will you eat when Mom and Dad are gone? Will you stay in their house?”
The discussion continued in and around Man-su for an hour. Man-su’s past, present and future were discussed in detail. Everyone, except Man-su, was talking. He hated people telling him what to do. But the consensus was too strong. It was clear he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the restaurant until he was in full agreement, even if that meant pretending to agree.
Man-su started nodding his head and pretended to be serious. He agreed he needed to get married. He agreed to meet women his brothers knew of. He said they sounded wonderful. He agreed he couldn’t take care of himself. That he’d better get the help of a wife. The circle began to loosen. Fresh air returned to Man-su’s nose and one by one the families retreated to their cars, honked goodbye and headed home.
In the car with his parents Man-su wasn’t completely certain of his own feelings. Did he truly want a wife? No. However, the more he thought about it, the less he knew why. He liked women, but his sexual experience had been limited to a few wild nights with co-workers at the metal shop. When someone had offered to buy sex for the group at a local Karaoke club or tea house.
He’d been in love twice. Once with a girl at a neighboring girl’s high school, and once with a girl who used to walk by the metal shop on her way to an office job. He’d never even tried to explain his feelings to either woman. They were, like many things in his life, secrets he kept to himself. He enjoyed being the invisible man. He merely loved them at a distance.
But he did recognize his situation was getting somewhat serious. His parents were leaving. For better or for worse he was dependent on his parents care. What would happen now that they were leaving? Would he learn to wake up and make his own seaweed soup and rice in the morning? Would he live in the big house in Yangsan by himself? Would he learn to drive a car? Plant his own garden?
In the midst of his contemplation his mother turned around. It wasn’t until after she’d been talking for a minute that Man-su realized she was crying. She looked at Man-su and he suddenly found himself disarmed. Both he and his mother had aged through the years, but their relationship had changed very little. She was still the mother, he was still the son. He had spent more time with her than anyone in the world. It was the same for her. While she’d known her husband longer, up until recently he’d worked at least 12 hours a day for more than 30 years. Man-su was the man she knew best, and Man-su knew his mother best. Maybe they’d relied on each other too much. Perhaps she treated him too munch like a baby. Regardless, they loved one another deeply. So when she turned to him with tears in his eyes, and implored Man-su to take a wife, he knew he was defenseless before she uttered a word. He could refuse many things from many people. But he could not deny his crying mother. At last, he would take a wife.
Man-su woke up the next day and stared at the ceiling. He felt differently. Soon, he would no longer wake alone. That was his first thought. He looked to his right. He tried to imagine a woman sleeping on the floor next to him.
He walked into the front room. His mother called to him and upon hearing his reply started getting his breakfast ready. Again, Man-su looked around him, trying to imagine a woman next to him. He looked at his mother in the kitchen, walking back and forth, boiling something on the stove. Cutting things into small pieces. Opening and closing the refrigerator. He tried to visualize a different woman in her place. How could he eat food prepared by another woman?
After breakfast Man-su lay on the sofa reading. Man-su loved reading all kinds of novels for his own pleasure, sometimes lying around the whole day if he was especially involved in the book. Could his wife accept this? He looked to his side again, trying to picture his new wife next to him. It was difficult.
After breakfast he took a walk. Man-su cherished Yangsan. It was so quiet and clean compared to Busan. But he’d heard most women don’t like to live in the countryside. They want to live in the city, where they can shop and go to restaurants. But who wouldn’t love this? There must be women who want to live where the air is clean. Where the only noise is the wind rolling over the hills. He walked down a small dirt road about a mile from his family’s home. Several people were outside, tending to their gardens. He stopped and looked at the freeway to Busan far in the distance. He couldn’t even hear the traffic.
There was something in beauty of the countryside that enabled Man-su to begin to fully visualize having a wife. He decided then, that he and his new wife should stay in his parent’s house in Yangsan. That was his one qualification. He turned around and walked back to the house.
As he took a deep breath Man-su felt something he had rarely felt in life; productive. He had sometimes been afraid of making big decisions in life, but it wasn’t so difficult, he nodded. He smiled to himself, swung his arms forward and clapped his hands together.
Man-su felt lighter. He was able to picture his new wife in his parent’s home. He could see her in the kitchen preparing his lunch. He could see her watching TV in the afternoon while he sat and read on the sofa. That night, he could see her next to him while he played cards with his father that evening.
The next day he called his brother to confirm his interest in meeting the hairdresser. As it turned out it was his brother’s hairdresser and he was going to see her that Friday. He would arrange a meeting for that evening. The three of them could have dinner at a casual fried rice restaurant. If things went well, he would make an excuse to leave the two of them alone.
Man-su got a little nervous when his brother said the part about leaving them alone. But he supposed that would have to happen eventually. After work that Friday Man-su headed to a public bath and washed himself completely. He’d asked his mother earlier that day what he should wear. She’d told him he’d better wear his best suit if he was meeting his future bride and Man-su could see the logic in that. Man-su brought his best suit to work that day, hanging it up far in the back of the office where it wouldn’t get dirty.
That night when his brother saw Man-su wearing his suit he shook his head in disbelief.
“Why did you wear that?”
“Mom, said I should dress up to make a good impression.”
His brother looked at him in disbelief.
“Mom was part of an arranged marriage. What do you think she knows about dating? We’re going to a fried rice restaurant. Not the opera.”
Man-su said nothing.
“You’re know, our family is rich. If you show up, keep your mouth shut, and don’t make an idiot of yourself this girl will marry you. She’s beautiful, but she’s almost 30 and her family gives her a lot of pressure to get married these days.”
Man-su stared at the ground.
“But this….you look like you expect to get married today! This isn’t 1975!”
Indeed, the hairdresser thought Man-su wanted to get married that day. And Man-su, embarrassed to be wearing an expensive suit in a fried rice restaurant, said very little. Most of the conversation was between Man-su’s brother and the girl. About hair. To make matters worse Man-su’s hair was very short.
After an hour the woman excused herself, saying she had an appointment with a group of friends. She bowed to Man-su and his brother, and quickly walked out the door. Man-su’s first meeting had come to an abrupt end. Man-su’s brother stared at him and shook his head in disbelief.
The following Friday one of Man-su’s sister-in-laws arranged for Man-su to meet a woman she worked with at a bank. She explained to Man-su that the woman was 31, and her family was pressuring her to get married very soon. The plan was for the three of them to meet at a Starbucks not far from where Man-su worked. She told Man-su to not wear a suit.
The girl was very pretty, Man-su thought. She also seemed quite pure and conservative, which he liked. The three of them had a pleasant conversation, which Man-su’s sister-in-law directed very well. She made sure to highlight the fact that while Man-su worked at a metal shop, that his father had started a very successful company. That the family was quite rich.
With the meeting progressing successfully Man-su’s sister-in-law took leave after an hour. Man-su selected a squid restaurant and made sure to open the door for her. Being alone with a woman like this was a first for Man-su. He felt a little nervous. But he told himself to relax. That the woman was looking to meet a husband, just as he was looking to meet a wife. To let things happen naturally.
At dinner they talked about their ideal type of mate, and Man-su pleasantly discovered that they each seemed to fit what the other was looking for. Almost perfectly. The girl liked to cook, which Man-su especially liked, and she preferred the countryside to the city. Busan was too busy she told him. She liked quiet places with fresh air. Man-su wanted to cry out for joy. He started to feel genuine affection for the woman. His leg began to bounce up and down in excitement.
The time flew by so fast Man-su could hardly believe it was nearly midnight. When the girl told him she still had to go home by midnight or her father would be angry Man-su grinned. He was certain he’d found the proper girl to be his wife.
Outside the restaurant he led the girl to a street where she could get a taxi. He handed her more than enough money for her fare. He looked at her and with a small smile. She was shy, and looked away, but likewise tried to return the smile. Man-su said, “I’d like to find some time for our families to meet.”
The girl nervously ticked her head to the side and grunted, indicated she hadn’t heard what Man-su had said.
“I want our families to meet and I want to be married by the end of the month. I’m sure my parents will like you. I want you to be my wife. We can live in my parent’s house in Yangsan and you can quit your job at the bank immediately.”
The girl nodded slowly, not in agreement, but in confirmation that Man-su had said what she thought he had said. Two girls on mopeds sped by and honked.
“I think your father will be quite pleased with our decision. My family is very financially secure. Your father has worked hard his entire life and he will not have to work hard anymore.”
The girl looked at her watch and urgently said “Oh! I’m going to be late!”
Man-su whirled around and started waving for a taxi. He told himself to calm down. He was acting like a little boy. He knew he was. Stop it. He started waving for a taxi in a much more dashing way. He spotted one down the street in the distance. He waved his hand calmly and strongly. Like a leader would. That’s what he needed to concentrate on. Being a leader.
But it was too late. When he turned around the girl was gone. He looked around, but she had disappeared. He waved the taxi away, stunned.
Man-su tried to call her several times during the next day. Ten times in fact. But there was no answer and she didn’t call him back. He stared at his phone, exhaled and set it on the kitchen table. His mother was making fresh noodles. His father was out playing golf.
“Man-su,” his mother said, “Can I make a suggestion?”
He looked at her. She had flour all over her apron. What a woman, he thought. If he could only find someone like his mother. He knew of no other mother that made fresh noodles for her family. Here she was. Cutting and twisting all morning. Just so he and his father could eat soup that night.
She walked over to where Man-su was sitting. She told him that she had been talking to one of the neighbors, and that her son, who had some trouble finding an appropriate wife, had gone to an agency that connects Vietnamese and Chinese women with Korean men. That he had married a Vietnamese woman earlier that year. And they were perfectly happy.
She looked at Man-su and tears started to come to her eyes. She was worried about him, she told him. It was really important to her that he be taken care of while she was gone. She explained that while Man-su’s father had become very rich, but that they were still very conservative. That there aren’t many conservative women left in Korea because the country has become wealthy and more individualistic. But Vietnamese and Chinese women are still very conservative, more like Koreans used to be, so they can be good matches for Korean men. The women want to come to Korea because the living conditions are better. That they work hard for their husbands.
Man-su had heard of such arrangements. There were signs all over Busan and he’d heard that a lot of men who worked in the metal shops took Vietnamese brides. There was even an agency close to where he worked that provided such a service. He had never imagined himself getting one. But then, he’d never imagined getting a wife either.
Still, the idea of meeting a woman from a different country was strange to Man-su. He’d never even been outside of Korea, except when his family went to Jeju Island, and that was still part of Korea. For Man-su even that had seemed radically different from Busan and Yangsan.
He’d seen foreign people in movies. He’d seen the occasional TV profile of a foreigner in Korea. But they seemed so different from Koreans. He wondered if they spoke Korean in Vietnam. If not, how could he communicate with her?
His mother told him that she had never been out of the country either. That she could never have imagined doing something like opening a school in China. But because of globalization the world was much smaller. And because of business, people from other from different cultures are finding themselves working together.
“Marriage is like a business in many ways,” she told Man-su, her voice cracking.
He couldn’t help but agree. Yet again, an emotional plea by his mother had changed his mind. He stood up an embraced her in the kitchen. They stayed there for some time. Man-su ran his fingers along his mothers back. He wished he could never let go. Even at 34 he felt a comfort in his mother’s arms that he didn’t feel anywhere else.
“Mom, don’t go to China,” he said softly. But his mother didn’t hear him. She broke their embrace and ran over to a pot on the stove filled with rice cake soup. Man-su looked at her, beginning to repeat what he had said, but he didn’t say it. He couldn’t. He needed to be his own person now. Whatever he had been afraid of his entire life, it was time to stop. He needed to be a man. A married man. Instead he went into his bedroom and turned on the computer.
As he sat down he felt a tinge of nervousness in his stomach. It was the same feeling he had when he went to meet the girls his brother and sister in law had arranged for him to meet. He did a search on “Vietnam Bride” and several sites appeared. He looked at the first.
Four pictures appeared each with age groupings below them. He stared at the images. They looked very similar to Korean women although their skin was dark, like women from the countryside. Man-su liked that, but their names were beyond strange. Bao, Bach, Anh, Bich….he wondered if he could ever say such weird names. But the longer he looked at the photos, the more beautiful they became. And, they were very young, which he liked. None of the women were over 27.
“Thank you for visiting Vietnam Bride,” the page said. “Xin Chao! That means hello, or welcome in Vietnamese. Vietnam is home to some of the most beautiful women, beaches, and countryside in the world.”
Man-su tried to say “Xin Chao.” He said it three times and giggled at the sounds that came out of his mouth. Seems like a silly language, he thought. He was still curious if any of the women could speak Korean. So he kept reading.
“A Vietnamese woman makes an ideal wife for any man looking for family values and a strong, long lasting relationship.”
Man-su had never suspected that anyone but Koreans would ever want to come to Korea. He had always been told that Korean culture was unique, and impenetrable to those from outside it.
But here he was, looking at a Web site full of women who were begging to come to Korea. He read the profiles in amazement. “I want to live with you forever in Korea,” one said. Another said she’d already been learning to speak Korean at a local Korean language school and had learned much about Korea from the television dramas that regularly aired on Vietnamese television.
A Korean language school? How preposterous. He proudly laughed out loud and tried to picture a Korean language school in the middle of a hot jungle. He stared as the wall and tried to imagine such a thing.
Man-su left the computer and took a walk. He shook his head and laughed. The world had opened and he felt a pride he’d never experienced. It was a dual pride. A love of both himself and his country, but tied into one new feeling. During his life he could see his family’s situation changing. Even though he had little idea of how much money his father made, his family always seemed to be getting more, to the point where the progression was normal. They’d upgrade the television every year or two, buy new cars, they added on to the house three or four times, and upgraded from a Karaoke machine for the back patio to an actual Karaoke room. The momentum never stopped.
As a child Man-su thought his entire country was growing in the same way. He knew that, of course, there were still poor people. He learned that most of the people that worked at the metal shop were poor. But now Man-su could see that even the poor in his country were very rich when compared to another country’s people. Imagine, he thought, the other side of that. Women from Korea going to other countries to become other men’s wives. He knew Korea had been poor at one time. Had it happened? He thought about for a second, listening to the rhythmic sounds of his feet on the gravel street.
“Impossible,” he muttered to himself and laughed out loud again.
Now that he could see how easy getting a wife from another country could be, Man-su started to wonder about women from other countries. Could he get a wife from Japan? Probably not, Japan was the richest country in the world. Russia? Surely there were women from Russia trying to come to Korea. He’d seen many Russians in Busan. He’d heard on the news of Russian mafia operating in Busan and Russian prostitutes were everywhere. Surely one of them would have chosen to marry him rather than become a whore. No matter how bad a husband he might be, anything was better than being a whore, wasn’t it?
He stopped mid-step. He looked around him. Some of the high mountains still had snow on them, even though Spring was at hand. A peculiar feeling started to make its way through his body. An excitement, a signal that he was on the cusp of something big. Fantastic. He’d never been so excited about women before. All of these women in the world just dying for the chance to be my wife in Korea. He spun around on his heel, his back straight like a solider. He started to march back to his home. He spun through the front gate and leapt up with steps to the front door. He felt much less nervous then. It wasn’t like before, when he’d met the two women his family had introduced. He felt comfortable. Confidence.
He typed in “Russian Bride” and, as he expected, found several sites with pages of beautiful women. They were not only from Russia, but places he’d never heard of; Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Strangely, some of those women looked quite Asian. One site told about large Korean populations living in Central Asia that had been displaced before and during the Korean War. Man-su had heard of that. Most Koreans called them “lost swans” and pitied them greatly.
He wondered if he could find a bride with Korean blood from another country. What a strange idea, he thought. But possibly a good one. He paused as he looked at the profiles of several women from Kazakhstan.
But then he thought marrying a woman with Korean blood who wasn’t really Korean could make an even stranger wife than a person with no Korean blood. His expectation would always be that they were Korean, but they would never meet that. It might be better to find someone completely different from him.
Man-su went back to his original search page. There were several other sites offering Vietnamese women. He continued to scan down the page.
“American Brides.”
After having read so many other strange country names like Kyrgyzstan and Bangladesh it took Man-su a moment to recall America. In reality he knew very little about America. But he’d heard much about it. America was the standard, for starters. Everything he did know about America was related to wealth. Big cars, big people, big money. Brides from America didn’t fit with the pattern of the other websites. He clicked on the link. Surely, these weren’t brides from America in the same way as he’d been looking from brides from Russia and Vietnam.
“American Bridal Agency – Beautiful American Women, Girls and Ladies looking for Love, Romance and Marriage at Date American Brides.”
Without much hesitation Man-su clicked “Browse.”
“Browse By State: Mississippi, Alabama, Texas, Louisiana, New Mexico, West Virginia.”
“Browse By Age: 18-25, 25-35, 35-45, 45+”
Man-su had only heard of Texas. He assumed the others were parts of America, but he clicked on “Mississippi,” because the name sounded a little funny, a bit exotic.
Several pictures were displayed on the screen, just as on the Vietnamese bride site. The names were “Shanice, Aaliyah and Imani.” Man-su was stunned by the beauty of the women facing him. He had no idea how beautiful American women could be. He clicked “show all profiles.” He’d always seen American women on TV and in advertising, but these women didn’t look like that at all. These women were dark skinned, just like Man-su liked. They looked much more like Koreans than Man-su expected. The only American women Man-su had ever seen had blonde hair and usually blue eyes. The women’s heads and facial features were mostly large, like many Koreans. Man-su let out a gasp and shook his head. He had no idea there were American Brides available to Koreans. America was a rich and powerful country. Then again, it was large like China. China had very rich people and very poor people, he knew. He supposed America did too.
Man-su’s father had always thought highly of Americans, even as many Koreans came to dislike them in recent times. If it weren’t for American shipping companies his own company never would have grown in the way it did. During the currency crash following the IMF crisis of 1997, Man-su’s father made money while his peers were all losing everything. Most of his money was in American dollars.
As he looked over the profiles we wondered how his family would accept an American as his wife. It was one thing to look at women from other counties on the Internet. It was another to ask his family to embrace her as one of them. There wasn’t a single drop of non-Korean blood in his family. Koreans typically looked down on such situations, though things had changed slightly in recent years. His father’s general like of Americans would probably work in his favor.
He also wondered if these women could speak Korean. Unlike the women on the Vietnamese websites, these women said nothing about wanting to come to Korea or watching Korean dramas. Man-su knew a little English, but unlike many of his family and friends, he didn’t have big plans to earn a lot of money. There was no need to learn English at the metal shops. So it was never that important for him. He knew some simple phrases like “hello” and “goodbye,” but that was it.
Questions continued to surface in his mind until he came upon the profile of Nerissa, a 23-year-old from Biloxi, Mississippi. She was quite simply the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She’s big, was his first thought, but this didn’t deter him. In fact, he realized, it made her even more beautiful. Man-su guessed she loved to eat, like him. She had a wide nose with big nostrils and the largest mouth he’d ever seen. His first inclination was to lean forward and kiss the screen. Juxtaposed with her skin her teeth were so radiantly white they nearly jumped out at him. Her smile seemed so genuine. It too pulled him toward the screen. She was wearing a tight blue shirt with a rainbow that said “Ghetto Queen” below it. Man-su had no idea what that meant, but he knew that under that shirt was what looked like the most perfect pair of breasts he had ever imagined. He didn’t think it consciously, but there was a feeling in his heart that he could easily spend the rest of his life with such a woman. He nodded his head at the screen and started to rub his hand up and down his arm. He felt fuzzy and he had to remember to breathe. He could hear his mother in the kitchen. She was probably starting to prepare dinner. Man-su called to her.
“Mother!” he said. “Mother!” he said, slowly rising from his seat. “Come here, quickly! I’ve found a wife!”
At first Man-su’s parents were unenthusiastic about his choice. Marrying a non-Korean was difficult idea for them to embrace, but marrying a non-Asian seemed especially ill advised. But when Man-su showed them the photo on the Internet, excitedly detailing specific things about her face and bio, neither could question his enthusiasm. It was as if he had already fallen in love with the woman. When he talked about her his words became quick, his voice strong and resolute.
“Look, she likes taking walks!”
“Father, she like action movies…like you do!”
“Mother, she wants to learn how to cook!”
“Aren’t her eyes beautiful? They’re deep and dark like an Asian person!”
“It says she likes hot weather. It gets very hot here during the summer!”
What could they do? Man-su was more animated than they’d ever seen him. He’d stand up, pace around the room pleading his case, then quickly return to his seat at the computer and stare at the photo on the screen.
In the end they decided it was more important for Man-su to be married than it was for him to be married according to their specifications. Had he been 27, they might have protested and tried to persuade him otherwise. But he wasn’t 27. He was 34, and furthermore they were leaving the country.
The next day they contacted the agency that had a liaison with the American agency, who in turn set up a meeting between Man-su’s family and the woman’s. The agent advised that Man-su select at least one other woman. To not go to America with only one possibility, as often times seeing a woman on the Internet and in person could be quite different. But Man-su had no desire to find another woman. He was sure of his choice. As sure as he’d been of anything in his life.
As it turned out the woman no longer lived in Mississippi, but had relocated to her Aunt’s home in California following her family’s house being destroyed by a hurricane in 2005. Man-su’s father wondered aloud how long the girl’s profile had been listed if it hadn’t been changed to reflect the fact that she’d moved such a far distance. He became concerned that the whole thing might be some kind of scam. He’d heard of such things, women signing up with bridal agencies just to get access to a Korean passport or money, only to leave their husband once they’d gotten what they needed.
But there was no deterring Man-su. For a short time he and Nerissa traded letters through the agency. The girl did not speak Korean, as Man-su had hoped. But she promised him she would start studying right away and in the meantime the letters were translated from Korean into English and vice versa.
He, in turn, tried to study English, but he quickly questioned the practicality of doing so. When he got frustrated studying English, it was easy for him to give up. They were going to live in his country, not hers. Why did he need to learn English?
His father, who had studied English on and off for several years to no avail, tried to impress upon Man-su the importance of learning English. But in Man-su’s mind he questioned his father’s logic, since he’d spent so much time studying English, but still couldn’t even engage in basic conversation
When they touched down at the Oakland International Airport Man-su was struck by an overwhelming sense that his life was about to change forever. His palms began to sweat and he felt nervous. How had this happened? How did his life arrive at this? He had always enjoyed being young. In some sense, he had remained a child his entire life. He was hesitant to change anything. Why? Because he was happy. He had always been content. The agent met Man-su and his parents at the airport. Through cumbersome gestures and his father’s limited English it was communicated that the city Nerissa was living in was a little east of Oakland. A smaller city called Livermore. They all continued to smile awkwardly, relieved that the point had been made clear. Occasionally during the car ride the man tired to point out landmarks, certain buildings, a baseball stadium, but Man-su couldn’t understand a word and his father didn’t bother trying to translate.
During the car ride Man-su got even more nervous. He almost started to cry. He could clearly feel he was leaving one part of his life, moving into another. It was exciting, but a little sad. As the car rolled down the freeway Man-su was surprised how at night America looked much the same as Korea. The same kind of freeway, buildings with lights. The cars were bigger, but that was about it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his parents. He had been their son for so long, but now he was going to be an adult. Soon, he might have his own son, who would in turn grow up and at some point would experience the same feelings Man-su was having now. It was all very exciting, but also little sad. The passing of time. Change.
When they got to the apartment Nerissa was living in Man-su doubted if he had the strength to walk. His legs felt like rubber and he still wanted to cry. The apartment was old. The people who lived in it were clearly poor. Old beat up cars encircled the building, some were parked in actual parking spaces, but some had parked as if the owner had simply abandoned their car. There was an empty swimming pool, the inside covered in dried and dead moss. Children’s toys were strewn around the area, along with empty fast food containers and other random junk. Two women sat on a stairway smoking. They were ashing into an instant coffee can. They peered at Man-su and his family through their smoke, their faces blank and still.
A drop of sweat made its way down Man-su’s right temple as the agent knocked on the door. Instantly two unfriendly sounding dogs started maniacally barking. Man-su sighed and swallowed. Tears started to well in his eyes. What had he done? What kind of stupid idea was this, coming all the way to America to meet a girl he’d only seen on the Internet? A girl he knew nothing about. A girl who couldn’t even speak Korean. A girl whose country he knew next to nothing about.
As Man-su’s emotion began to spin out of control he felt a familiar touch, the fingers of his mother coming between his own fingers. While his hand was hot and sweaty, almost numb from the nervousness that possessed him like a dark spirit, his mother’s was cool, soft, calm and reassuring. Once her fingers had found their familiar and comfortable position, she squeezed his hand ever so slightly, just as she had so many times before. In feeling his mother’s love the emotion in his heart started surge. Not wanting to meet his future wife with tears streaming down his face, he stopped breathing. He held his breath, forcing the tears to stay locked inside his eyes. He slowly took a long breath in through his nostrils and his chest expanded, filling with fresh air. Someone from inside the house screamed at the dogs and Man-su could hear them scramble away from the door. He watched the doorknob as it turned, and squeezed his mother’s hand tightly as the door finally came open.

14,434 words.
The only thing Ji-won and Soo-jung really even had in common was the fact that they both hated English. Funny enough, they met during their English class in college. Early in the semester they were made partners to learn some vocabulary. One word, “ship,” sounded remotely like the first half of “sheep-bal,” like “fuck you,” in Korean. During class when the teacher said “ship,” Ji-won would quietly add “pal” to anyone within earshot. Soo-jung had to work hard to not laugh out loud. She had tears in her eyes. Soon, Ji-won was making jokes into Soo-jung’s ear only.
The boys outnumbered the girls 30-5 in their freshman class. Their major was cyber policing, though no one really took the major or the school itself all that seriously. As Ji-won once told Soo-jung, it was the kind of school to make the parents of kids who couldn’t get into a good college feel like their kids were going to college. Other people said the same thing.
Mostly the students just tried to have fun. After their first year most of the men would have to go off to the Army anyway. Most of the women would finish their 2-year degree, get a job, save some money, and get married to men 2 or 3 years older than them a couple years after that. The men would come back from the Army, finish school, get a job, work for three years, and get married to women 2 or 3 years younger than them.
In the beginning of the first semester the girls sat in one corner of the room and the boys fanned out around them. Usually the boys would sit as far away as possible. Not so much for fear of girls, but for fear of being spotted trying to sit close to a girl. A few of the students went to mixed gender high schools, but the majority did not. For the most part, people had very little idea how to approach the opposite sex. This made the pairing of Ji-won and Soo-jung all the more fateful.
During that first semester the boys, day by day, class by class, struck up the nerve to move closer to the girls. By the middle of the first semester the boys had them surrounded. The girls in turn started sitting closer to the teacher. The circle of boys followed them, the brave ones moving a bit closer, the shy ones falling toward the back of the room.
The one constant was Ji-won and Soo-jung, who, once they had met, always sat on the far side toward the back. It was their space and no one tried to inhabit it. Even the English teacher referred to them as “the lovebirds.”
Soo-jung was a little chubby and her upper lip was big and came out and hung a little over her lower lip. Her friends joked that she’d spent so much time trying to kiss someone her lip had finally stuck like that. Her friends sometimes called her “giraffe mouth.” But more notorious were her calves, which had grown large from walking up a large hill to her family’s apartment. So she was dubbed “watermelon calves” most often.
The 14th floor apartment was in Gupo, a low income area on the outskirts of Busan. She’d lived there since she was 4, so nearly her entire life. Her father had left the family when she was 12. Her grandmother moved in at that time, but she died just before Soo-jung’s 14th birthday.
The college was also on top of a hill. Really, it was more like a mountain. The students had to walk up a hill, then some stairs, then more hill, just to get to the student commons. To get classes they had to walk up more stairs or another hill.
Soo-jung hated walking. If the weather was warm the sweat ruined her makeup and hair. If it was cold the distance felt twice as far and made her body ache. When the wind blew from the ocean through the mountains that sprouted up through Busan it just felt like hell, no matter if it was hot or cold.
Ji-won lived further away, in Gimhae, a city outside of Busan, but not so far from Gupo, as he was quick to remind Soo-jung. He took one bus from his home to catch the school shuttle, which then took an hour and 15 minutes. Even though the shuttle went all the way to school he'd get off in the center of Gupo so he could meet Soo-jung. They’d walk up the hill together. Sometimes he’d even get behind her and push her up the hill as she’d lay back into his hands and whimper like a puppy.
From the day they sat and joked in English class, Ji-won would wake up at 5 a.m., get ready and arrive in Gupo by eight. He’d meet Soo-jung and walk her to school. Sometimes they stopped and ate tempura at a food stall at the base of the hill. Or, if Ji-won could persuade Soo-jung, they’d go to a motel for an hour or two before class.
Early in their relationship Soo-jung wouldn’t have anything to do with going to a motel. But after they’d celebrated their 100 day anniversary she didn’t see any reason not to so long as no one saw them going in or out. They usually went to the same place, the Roma Motel. It was near the school, but hidden down a small street and in an alley. Anyone who spotted them might think they were going to the not-so-famous kimchi-chigai (kimchi-stew) restaurant located in the same alley.
At first Soo-jung was nervous to have sex with Ji-won. They had both been virgins and were each afraid in their own way. Ji-won never showed nervousness, but sometimes Soo-jung could see him shaking, or he’d start forgetting his words in the middle of a sentence as they walked to the Roma. She thought it was cute and it relaxed her a little.
After those first few times Soo-jung felt quite free in the motel. The whole thing seemed very adult. The hotel had two large pillars out front and red carpet inside. It wasn’t nice, but it gave the whole experience a tinge of luxury. Plus, once they were inside their room it was like living in their own apartment. They had their own TV, hairspray, razors, aftershave, garbage cans, a phone, a little refrigerator, a heater/fan, plenty of mirrors and towels. For Soo-jung it was an escape. From her mother’s intrusive questions and commands, away from school and studying, away from her pestering younger brother, away from the hot or cold weather. Just she and Ji-won in bed, together in their own apartment. In their own world.
Soo-jung thought Ji-won looked funny when he was having sex. Like he was in pain. His eyes were always closed. Occasionally he looked down at her breasts or between her legs. Suddenly he’d decide to throw her legs over her head, or grab a hold of her breast for dear life. And the sounds! The whole thing sounded like a plunger going in and out of a toilet, in and out, in and out, until he stopped breathing and his face scrunched up so tight she thought he’d either pass out or explode. Sometimes Soo-jung completely forgot what they were doing and just stared at Ji-won’s face. If he opened his eyes she’d close hers and wait until she knew it was safe to open them again.
Eventually Ji-won would go faster and faster until he finally cried out and gasped for air. Sometimes he’d grab her hair or the pillow behind him. When he did cry out he sounded similar to her, that is, like a woman. But once he could control himself he’d deepen his voice, or even clear his throat, as if that were the reason he’d sounded so feminine. She was surprised how ridiculous sex often was. She’d seen it on television or the Internet many times, but actually doing it was kind of cute and silly, if a little stupid.
After they’d finish Soo-jung would do her makeup in the mirror. That was when she really felt like an adult. She carefully outlined and shaded her mouth in hopes of hiding her oversized upper lip. She’d pucker in the mirror, always trying to somehow force it back down where everyone else's was. Pinning it down with her lower lip, bending it under her front teeth, not really believing it would ever stay down, but trying nonetheless.
After sex Ji-won would sit on the edge of the bed and talk to her. He looked like such a man when he did that. They both thought that. Soo-jung had heard that usually Korean men get very quiet and sleepy after sex. But in fact Ji-won became very talkative. He’d talk so much Soo-jung would sometimes wish he would get tired or go to sleep. He’d start explaining this and that to her. Mostly about what kind of job he wanted to get, or what his ideal type of woman was. He’d talk about relationships between men and women and what is important and what is not important. Sometimes he’d talk about his political views. How the American army should get out of Korea so they could reunify the country. One time, when they went to the Roma to celebrate their 150th day, he told her of how his grandfather had been killed in the Gwangju massacre of 1980. He’d almost cried and this touched her greatly.
Soo-jung didn’t listen all that closely to what Ji-won said. She hated politics and knew very little about such things. When Ji-won talked about things like men and women, or marriage, she only half listened. In truth, at that time, Soo-jung was more interested in feeling adult than being adult.
She later realized Ji-won revealed more about his personality during those talks than at any other time. It wasn’t that she was interested in what he was saying, but she was curious about why he said the things he did. It was as if sex had opened him up like a bottle and his true self came flowing out.
Ji-won was a good student, even if the school itself wasn’t a good one. Ji-won liked to explain that he’d gotten on the wrong track in middle school. Mostly, he got good grades because his father threatened to beat him if he didn’t. Soo-jung didn't care about studying and wanted to work as a hair designer. She liked hair. She went to school because her grandfather made her. He thought she should try to get a good job and help her mother with money since there was no man in the house.
Her mother used to sell fish at her sister’s market near the train station in Gupo. It wasn’t a good income, but it was money. But her mother had worked sparingly since an accident which had left her with half a little finger. After that she stayed home and watched TV most of the time. Other people in her family gave her money because they felt sorry for her. Like her grandfather did, Ji-won gave Soo-jung pressure to support her mother. They both told her it was her duty as a daughter. Still, it was hard for Soo-jung to think of such things. She told Ji-won that earning money seemed like the job of an adult man, not a teenage girl. He replied that eventually he’d be able to support both she and her mom. But not for several years. That until they could get married it would still be her responsibility.
When Ji-won said that Soo-jung felt like an electric charge had shot threw her body. The idea of marriage was not something she had thought about, ever. Not with Ji-won or anyone else. She wanted to get married, someday, but it was one thing to pretend to be adult inside the Roma motel. She knew the reality was something different. They hadn’t even been together 200 days. Feeling uncomfortable, Soo-jung ignored the comment. The silence was heavy. Eventually Ji-won looked at Soo-jung, beginning to wonder if she’d heard him. She did her best to pretend like she hadn’t.
Soo-jung had a younger brother who was in high school. He had a part time job at a local computer game room called Cyber Town. He’d helped get Ji-won a job at the same place. The job had enabled Ji-won to start paying for motel rooms. Before that he had to rely on the occasional money from his mother. His father had insisted boys his age didn’t need money except for books and bus fare. But his mother would give him some in secret. So Ji-won kept his job a secret from most people.
He was paid $200 a month working 15 hours every week at Cyber Town. Before he worked he’d go there all the time anyway. He loved computer games, so he was basically getting paid for something he’d be doing anyway. It was a perfect deal as far as he was concerned.
For Ji-won the computer game world was much more exciting than the real one. Inside the game there was no studying, no fathers, no English, just pure excitement and adrenalin. He didn’t have to think, only react.
When he first met Soo-jung he was more than willing to give up his Saturday afternoon to go shopping or a movie with Soo-jung. At that point he’d hardly showed an interest in computer games. But as time went on he managed to find time to play. At first he worked to fit it in his schedule. He’d skip a class here and there. Go back to Gimhae an hour or two later. But once he started working at Cyber Town his computer game time started to cut into his time with Soo-jung. Especially following their 200th day celebration for which Ji-won gave Soo-jung a new cosmetics carrying case. After that things felt more secure to Ji-won. They had a good routine, he felt. He’d still meet her at 8 a.m. on most days, they’d eat lunch together every day, text message each other throughout the day, and go to the motel regularly.
Ji-won’s game of choice was World of Warcraft. And he was very good at it. The game was ongoing, and Ji-won had built his character past level 60, which meant he regularly competed against the best players in the world. It also meant he had certain responsibilities to the game. For example, sometimes he had to take part in mass raids involving his clan. Things that eventually became more of a priority as time went on. Other things; school, family, and Soo-jung sometimes had to take a back seat.
Ji-won implored Soo-jung to understand his obligation to the game. If it was during his normal working hours, it was very difficult for Soo-jung to argue with him. But if he wasn’t scheduled to work she had less and less patience for Ji-won choosing games over her. As a result, Ji-won sometimes lied to Soo-jung, saying he had to be on duty at Cyber Town when in fact he didn’t.
That worked for a while, but eventually Soo-jung figured it out. She didn’t like him lying in order to not spend time with her, but perhaps more importantly, she thought playing the games seemed childish. It seemed like for all the adult things they were doing together, playing computer games was moving Ji-won in the opposite direction.
She fought it for a while, but eventually she realized Ji-won was going to play computer games whether she told him to or not. If Ji-won had to play Warcraft he simply told Soo-jung he had to work. They both knew he was lying. He only worked for 5 hours during three days a week. It got the point where they’d both laugh at it. Ji-won interpreted this as Soo-jung understanding his mind. In a small way it made him love her more. But Soo-jung’s feeling never changed. She just knew she couldn’t do anything about it.
With the money he made working at Cyber Town Ji-won could pay for trips to the Roma Motel up to four times a month. Both he and Soo-jung knew this and it became almost a guarantee that they would go to the Roma four times a month. For Ji-won it was as if they’d entered into a contract. It was a surplus that would otherwise go to waste. If it came to the end of the month and they’d only gone to the Roma twice it made perfect sense to Ji-won to squeeze a couple trips at the end of the last week of the month. One time he even called in sick to work, it was their 250th day, so it made sense.
Sometimes Soo-jung played Warcraft with Ji-won. He had half-hoped she would get interested in the game, but she just wasn’t good enough. Because of the nature of the game, she could accompany his character on missions with her own character. She liked the idea in theory. Her character was a pretty elf and she’d stand behind his warrior character while he walked through the woods or fought monsters. But that got boring and sometimes she got in the way, which made Ji-won frustrated. Mostly she ended up just watching Ji-won play. It wasn’t like they were a team.
They didn’t argue often. But more than half of their fights started with Soo-jung trying to talk to Ji-won while he was concentrating on a game. He was usually dismissive and sometimes he ignored her altogether. At first she’d tried to understand. She’d leave him alone or wait patiently until he could focus on her instead of the game. But eventually it made her angry. Sometimes she’d turn around, walk out the door and go home without saying a word. Often Ji-won wouldn’t even notice for an hour or two. Still, he hated Soo-jung to walk home alone at night. He always insisted she wait for him so he could walk with her. Gupo wasn’t dangerous, but it wasn’t totally safe, he explained. There were tons of prostitutes near the train station, which attracted a lot of drunken businessmen that might beat or rape her.
Their fights never lasted that long. Ji-won especially hated fighting. He’d stay up all night on the phone, begging Soo-jung to understand his perspective. One time, when Soo-jung had refused to answer her phone, Ji-won took a taxi from Gimhae to Gupo at three in the morning. He showed up outside Soo-jung’s apartment, begging her forgiveness.
After he finished school Soo-jung's brother would come to the game room too. Since he was in his last year he didn't finish school until 10 or 11 p.m. He'd get to the game room with a group of friends and play for a couple hours and then he'd walk Soo-jung home if Ji-won was still playing.
Soo-jung's brother knew Ji-won was his sister's boyfriend, but he never discussed it with his sister directly. Some of the other kids that hung out at the game room knew because they would see them walk in together every day or leave together at night. And along with these bits of information there were rumors.
“I saw them touching hands.”
“I heard they’re getting married before he goes to his military service.”
“I saw them walking out of a motel together.”
“He has another girlfriend in another game room.”
“I bet they have sex.”
“No, they don’t.”
Soo-jung’s brother had caught wind of some of the rumors, because a lot of the people starting them were his friends. He’d tell them he didn’t want to hear anything about it and since he was older than most of them, because he’d started school a year late, they had to be careful what they said to him. But eventually he and everyone else knew about the "campus couple" that came to the game room every day.
Even thought they were always polite to her a lot of the kids at the game room hated Soo-jung. She was older than most of them so she could order them around. She treated them all like her little brother even though she only knew half of them by sight. She would tell them to get her and Ji-won coffee or make them instant noodles.
Sometimes Soo-jung did this out of boredom. Picking on the younger kids was a way to pass the time while Ji-won played Warcraft. They other kids hated her, and by default, Ji-won. But there wasn't much they could do. Both Ji-won and Soo-jung were older, and Soo-jung's little brother was older than most of them because he started school a year late. Plus, both Ji-won and Soo-jung's little brother worked at the game room. These things, combined with the fact that the game room was the cheapest in the area left the kids with no option but to endure Soo-jung’s abuse. An hour at Cyber Town only cost 70 cents. And besides coming around in the morning to collect the money, the woman who owned the place was never around. So besides being cheap the place had a relatively free and wild atmosphere. There was no one to tell them not to spit on the floor, slam their hands on the keyboard or howl if something in their game went bad. The place was pretty much run by the kids. They always kept the best ramen noodles and snacks on hand. The choice was simple; they could either endure Soo-jung, and occasionally Ji-won’s, abuse, or go to another game room and pay more money for fewer hours of lower quality gaming.
But for the kids at Cyber Town, there was little justice. Revenge against Soo-jung was impossible. However, they did keep an ever-growing list of nicknames for her that they traded like a commodity.
“Lump lip.”
“I say dirty rag lip.”
“No, baseball bat legs.”
“She’s got a balloon head.”
“Ass mouth.”
They were careful to keep these names private from Soo-jung, her little brother, and Ji-won. If Ji-won heard someone calling his girlfriend “dirty rag lip” there was no telling what might happen to them. This had been something like the fate of one high school boy who had crossed Ji-won on the wrong day.
Everyone agreed it was a case of bad timing. Ji-won was close to leveling up in Warcraft. As was sometimes the case, a small crowd had gathered around Ji-won’s computer to watch him as he approached the new plateau. Soo-jung was mildly interested and supportive, but she was also angry because Ji-won had not only skipped their English class that morning, but he’d had largely ignored her for the 12 hours he’d been trying to advance.
It was like a chain reaction. With her and Ji-won on the verge of fighting Soo-jung became especially harsh on the kids. She criticized one boy for his hair, slapping him upside the head twice and telling him to get a haircut. Then, she flopped down in the chair next to Ji-won and whined that she was thirsty. She told one boy to get her a drink, when he came back with a cup of water she said “I told you a drink stupid, not water!” kicking him on the behind with her high-heeled shoe. Everyone, including the boy laughed nervously. He scuttled away, bringing her back a vitamin drink.
It was like she had it in for the kid. He was small and harmless and Soo-jung was bored. She grabbed the boy by the ear and said “I hate Vitamin drinks!” As she squeezed the boy’s ear more and more she repeated “Are you stupid? Are you stupid?” again and again. The boy cried in pain and his three friends, who were watching, winced and tried to intervene.
“Older sister, please don’t. What drink do you want?”
She finally let go and opened the vitamin drink. As the boys walked away, one of them, no one knew who, muttered “daughter of dog,” under his breath. Soo-jung whipped her head around. “Who said that!” she demanded. That she had even heard the slang at all was bad luck. The boys had been walking away, and the boy had meant to say it under his breath. But both Soo-jung and Ji-won had heard it. And as luck would have it, at that very moment Ji-won had been defeated in his quest to level up. The timing was awful. Ji-won shot out of his chair and stomped over to the boys. He immediately grabbed the tallest of the four by the back of his neck. As it turned out, he wasn’t even the one who said “daughter of dog,” but he was part of the offending group, the biggest, and easiest to grab hold of.
Ji-won pulled him outside and punched him in the stomach, keeping his hand in his stomach as if he’d stabbed the boy with a long sword. The boy immediately started to hyperventilate. Ji-won grabbed the boy by the back of his neck again and started leading him down the street. Soo-jung and a sizable group from the game room followed behind in both concern and anticipation.
“Where is he taking him?”
“He’s going to throw him in the Nakdong River!”
“Is he going to kill him?”
“He’s going to throw him in front of a subway!”
Some of the group was laughing, but the boy’s friends were not. The boy who had said “daughter of dog” caught up to Ji-won and tried to explain he had been the one to say it. But Ji-won didn’t seem to hear him. Ji-won continued to march down the street, the boy firmly in his grip.
Soo-jung and the others struggled to keep pace. Ji-won made a sharp left into a narrow alley that led to an outdoor market. The gang of kids turned into a line. Women selling fruit and fish stood up and stared at the parade. An old man yelled “go to school!” as he swatted mosquitoes with an electric tennis racquet swatter.
Soo-jung’s face was one of both elation and fear. Normally, Ji-won wasn’t hot tempered. His actions seemed out of character. He had lost control, and even though she admired his prowess, she was worried about the fate of the boy and her role in what had happened.
Suddenly the crowd came to a stop.
Ji-won and his captor stood before a long row of cages selling live dogs for meat. The market was closed, and covers had been put over all the cages. Ji-won tightened his grip on the shoulders of the boy’s school uniform jacket and started toward the cages, dramatically lifting the cover off one. By then the boy was screaming and writhing like a fish out of water, begging Ji-won to let him go. His long legs moved in all directions, but Ji-won’s grip was firm.
“Who is the dog?!” Ji-won screamed at the boy. “Who is a dog?!”
The dogs were barking and their tails slammed against the bars of their cages.
“Who is the dog now?!” Ji-won screamed. By then everyone watching was either laughing from nervousness or standing in stunned silence. One of the boys started to cry.

Ji-won made one last dramatic pause before pushing the side of the boy’s face up against the cage. Two dogs excitedly lapped at the boy’s salty sweaty face, their big tails hitting the cage bars, making muffled pinging sounds. The dogs barked and licked and tried to nip at the boy’s skin through the bars. The other dogs were frenzied, barking so loudly that no one watching could hear anything. The boy periodically screamed out, but his arms and legs had slowed. He helplessly hung in Ji-won’s hands, bracing himself by holding the cage bars. Two older men sitting on a table across the street shared a bottle of soju and watched the commotion with quizzical looks on their faces.
Ji-won moved to the next cage, which had four dogs inside. They climbed on top of each other in their cramped cage to get a chance to lap at the boy’s skin. By then there were at least 20 dogs barking. The sound was deafening.
Soo-jung stood with her mouth open as she watched the scene. She had been angry, and for a while she’d enjoyed the spectacle. But with each second that passed Ji-won’s reaction seemed more and more extreme. A couple times she caught glimpses of his eyes. He looked possessed. He had very cold and workmanlike expression on his face. A couple times he closed his eyes, and was holding his breath in using all his strength. He looked like he did when he was having sex with Soo-jung, she thought.
One of the friends of the tall boy started screaming for help. He ran to a neighboring shop and said there was an emergency. An older man ran out of the store, but upon seeing the situation rolled his eyes, calmly walked over to Ji-won and kicked him in the behind. Ji-won finally loosened his grip and pushed the boy away. The older man yelled “shut up” and hit the side of the cage with his fist.
After Ji-won let him go the boy teetered on his feet for a moment before falling on the ground. His white school shirt was blackened and soaked with dog saliva. He had a small raw scrape on his right cheek and his face was red with white blotches. As he gained control of his breath, he began to cry. His friends gathered around him and tried to brush the saliva and dirt off his school uniform. Intermittently, they looked over in Ji-won’s direction in shock.
Ji-won grabbed Soo-jung’s arm and started in the direction of her home. Her mind was swimming. She wanted to feel safe. Ji-won had seemingly defended her. Protected her. But in her heart she knew what had happened had been related more Warcraft than chivalry. She took her phone out from her purse. It was nearly 11:30 p.m. She also noticed that in one hour it would become their 260th day as a couple. Normally this would be cause for some mild celebration. But she felt nothing of the sort.
She looked at him as they walked. Ji-won stared at the ground, seemingly deep in thought. As they arrived at Soo-jung’s apartment she pulled out a tissue from her purse and dotted the sweat from Ji-won’s face. She stopped and looked into his eyes.
“Baby,” she started.
He stared at her face as if it were the sky.
“Baby,” she said again.
Ji-won seemed to be in a trance. He didn’t look at her, but seemingly through her. As if he was looking at the bus behind her. Into the middle of the hill Soo-jung’s apartment was built on.
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but at that moment Soo-jung’s perception of Ji-won and their relationship changed. She still loved him, but a little part of that love had vanished, and her intuition told her it wasn’t coming back. As she finished cleaning his face and kissed him on the cheek goodbye, she walked up to her apartment feeling a little sad. She didn’t even mention the fact that it was their 260th had arrived at midnight.
Ji-won didn’t think much of the event. He got on the bus to Gimhae and stared blankly as the jungle of apartment buildings gave way to the purple and pink outlined motels that sit upon the Nakdong River.
When he got home his mother handed him a letter addressed to him. She had already opened it and the way she quickly shuffled off he knew it wasn’t good news. It was a notice from the Korean military. He was set to have his physical the following week. For Ji-won his mandatory military service was something he had thought about during the past year, though less once he’d met Soo-jung. However, now it was becoming a tangible reality.
He and Soo-jung had avoided the subject entirely. He had nearly brought it up once at the Roma Motel in one of his post-fucking speeches. But when he realized he was going to cry he kept his mouth shut. Another time she had brought it up, by accident. And that time she had cried. Ji-won had to look the other way so keep Soo-jung from seeing the tears in his own eyes.
After he got the letter Ji-won thought about the military every day. He had heard so many stories. It was a regular staple of male conversation both old and young. Most agreed that it was beneficial and necessary. All agreed it was hell. Some thought it worse than hell.
Ji-won objected to military service as he objected to the idea of the Korean War itself. Whose war was it? Why was America in South Korea? Why did he have to give away two years of his life so that America could maintain Army bases in his country?
Ji-won knew this kind of thinking of rebellion would be out the window once he went to basic training. Many had told him, the question of why goes away. It’s the day to day living, or dying, in the military that becomes the only question. There is no end, nor means. Only survival.
It was at this time Ji-won started smoking. He figured that everyone smokes in the military anyway. If you don't smoke with your superiors receiving punishment was not out of the question. He explained this to Soo-jung one day at the Roma Motel the first time he lit up after they fucked. During that time Ji-won was trying to keep a stern resolve about the military. He was determined to face the situation head on. He wanted and needed to be the strong one, for both his and Soo-jung’s sake.
To his surprise Soo-jung wasn’t emotional as he’d imagined when he started talking about the military openly. He hadn’t revealed the date he’d be leaving, but he’d still expected more of a reaction since that had been the case in the past. He’d planned on having to comfort her upon the first mention. To comfort her; but with some distance since his departure was inevitable. She, like he, had to start facing these things was his logic. But as he started talking about smoking in the military she more or less nodded in acceptance between putting doing her lips and eye makeup. Ji-won stood up moved behind her, treating her as if she were bawling her eyes out, because that’s what he had planned on. As he stood there in the mirror with Soo-jung doing her make up, he felt as though he might cry, so he hurried back to the bed and didn’t bring it up again that day.
Ji-won had been confused by Soo-jung’s lack of emotion, but he quickly assumed the shock of the situation was too much for her to take at that time. His friends had warned him time and again that when a man prepares to go into the military, his girlfriend becomes increasingly unstable. That in actuality, it is much easier for the man to leave, because even though his service is extremely difficult, it’s a new surrounding. But for the woman, she is suddenly walking with a ghost. She does the same things, goes to the same places, but she is suddenly alone.
Besides, Ji-won thought, what else does Soo-jung have besides him? She had no father. Her mother can barely earn money. She’s wasn’t even beautiful. Cute, but hardly a beauty queen. He wondered if she had a better option. After thinking these things he felt a little better. It seemed likely that Soo-jung would be with him when he left for the military, just as she would be there when he came back from the military. He told himself this again and again in the time leading up to his departure. It made him feel better.
The first time Soo-jung smoked a cigarette Ji-won didn’t notice because he’d been involved in a game. She simply pulled one out of his pack and smoked while chatting with one of her friends online. Only when she purposely put the cigarette out in Ji-won’s ashtray did he notice. He was furious.
“What are you doing?” His eyes were fixed on the computer screen.
“Smoking.”
“When did you try that?”
“Just now.”
There was a pause and the electronic sounds of Cyber Town continued.
“You shouldn’t do that. You’ll kill your baby.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“I mean later.”
"What later?"
"When you want to have a baby."
"Why do I have to have a baby?"
Soo-jung calmly stood up and walked outside. Ji-won quickly looked over his shoulder. He shook his head and tsk-ed but quickly soon forgot the whole situation. Soo-jung came back minutes later with a rice roll that she shared with him. When they were finished Soo-jung took another of Ji-won’s cigarettes and lit up again. Ji-won shook his head and said “crazy girl.” But she ignored him.
Ji-won continued to dislike Soo-jung smoking and she didn’t particularly like his. But the conflict didn’t progress beyond the occasional sarcastic comment by Ji-won. Smoking at the game room became very natural. The pace of smoking fit well with gaming. It was easy to lose count of time and space. Soo-jung would usually smoke one per hour and Ji-won two, depending on the intensity of his game. He sometimes chain smoked for several hours straight if he was really focusing. The others in the game room immediately noticed the “lovebird’s” new habit. First one and then two of them started smoking. Soon, nearly all the regulars at Cyber Town were smoking.
A couple days later, Soo-jung came out of the bathroom to find her little brother smoking. She yelled at him in the middle of the game room, yanked the cigarette from his mouth, and stepped on it with the tip of her high heeled shoe, like it was a bug. The other high school students thought that was hilarious and for several days they mimicked her actions to each other. Soo-jung's brother had often bullied them, so it was fun to see him get it from someone he couldn’t control. Plus, when Soo-jung got angry and talked fast her upper lip bulged even more than usual. One of the students said later that when she got angry she looked like a gorilla. They started referring to her as "gorilla lip" instead of "lump lip." But they were particularly quiet with this. No one had forgotten what had happened at the dog market.


Despite this slight humiliation Soo-jung’s brother was determined to start smoking. Soon enough one could find Ji-won, Soo-jung, and her brother, all sitting in a row playing games, all smoking. Soon most of the kids at the game room had started. This was good for Soo-jung because if she or Ji-won were out of cigarettes there were always several packs from which she could take two or three. Ji-won thought it would be a good idea to start selling cigarettes along with the noodles, candy and drinks at Cyber Town. So they did.
Ji-won continued to avoid the topic of his leaving for the military. When his mother called to inform him he’d received his final summons for basic training he told Soo-jung his Grandmother in Deagu was sick and that he'd be gone all day. In truth the news had made him feel sick. He couldn’t bear to see Soo-jung knowing he’d soon be without her. He needed to go home and think of the proper way to tell her. His departure became an immediate reality. He went directly home and stared at the letter in near disbelief. He fell on his bed and started to sketch ideas of what he would tell Soo-jung. He was leaving in a week. He would be gone. And his girlfriend, his love, didn’t even know.
He knew had to say it directly and without appearing nervous. For a moment he considered giving her a letter. It could be better for her to receive the news in private. She undoubtedly kept a lot of emotion inside her. He would have to tell her in the motel. That way she could cry hysterically if need be. He could comfort her without concern of other people watching their every move.
But Ji-won knew giving her a letter wasn’t the proper method. He had to tell her directly. Without fear. He practiced what he would say that night and on the bus to Busan the next morning, all the while telling himself again and again that Soo-jung had few options as good as he.
Later that morning in the motel Soo-jung could sense that something was on Ji-won’s mind. He flailed away at her body like she was a doll. He didn’t kiss her. He seemed to be rushing, as if he wanted to finish as soon as possible. His face quickly scrunched up and as he came he pinched her left nipple so hard she cried out in pain. He grabbed her hair on both sides and shook her head back and forth. Then he fell off her, quickly rolled over and lit a cigarette. Soo-jung couldn't wait to get out of the bed. She practically jumped out and shuffled into the shower, her breast throbbing in pain.
She finished washing and was pursing her lips in the bathroom mirror when Ji-won decided the moment had come. He stared at Soo-jung, telling himself to start. But he couldn’t. How could he ruin such a perfect picture? She was carefully examining her hair in the mirror.
He took a deep breath and lit up a cigarette in bed. He looked at the mirror over the bed. He was worried that wouldn’t look good, so he sat up. But then he was sitting naked on the bed smoking a cigarette and he figured that looked strange too. He ended up settling for a pose that was neither laying nor sitting, something between the two. That made smoking difficult so he took one more long drag and put out his cigarette. By then Soo-jung had finished in the mirror.
Ji-won told himself again and again, she can’t do better. She’s not even that pretty. He even nodded his head up and down, as if feeling the words would make them come true. She had no choice but to wait for him. What was he worried for? What would she do instead? He imagined her, lonely but content, helping her mother at home, checking her email and phone for messages from him.
The scenario was enough to finally give him the courage say something.
“Soo-jung, I’m leaving on March…..fifth.”
As he said the word “fifth” his voice cracked with emotion. But he’d finally said it. Soo-jung stared blankly, first at the mirror, then at him. She turned to him and he saw tears in her eyes. He forced himself not to cry. He calmly stood up and confidently walked across the room. He gently took Soo-jung into his arms and squeezed with all his might. He began to cry. Soo-jung’s nipple was still throbbing as Ji-won begged her to be strong. He told her that basic training was only 6 weeks long and then he’d have four days vacation. And as time went on he'd get more vacations. Eventually he'd be done and they could live together forever.
After he held her for awhile he pulled back. He was prepared for the worst. But as he looked at her he could see Soo-jung’s eyes were completely dry. They looked at each other for a moment. They were surprised in the fact that neither of them had the look the other had expected.
They stood there frozen, neither exactly sure what to do. Ji-won sensed he should take the initiative. He dismissed Soo-jung’s lack of emotion as shock and forged ahead with what he’d planned to say. He told Soo-jung to wait for him. That he loved her and didn't want her to meet another man. That she needed him that he needed her and that when he was finished with the military he would come back, finish his studies and get a good job in the police force. She would get a job as a cashier at a big chain store when she finished school. Someplace like Wal-mart. She would work and save money for their wedding. Ji-won smiled a little and looked up at Soo-jung when he said this. He told her that after two or three years he will have saved enough money for a place to live, and they would marry at that time.
Soo-jung didn’t say anything immediately and took out a cigarette. She dropped it on the floor, scrambling to pick it back up. Her hand was shaking as she lit it and then tried to carefully put it between her lips. She didn’t say anything. She had no idea what to say. To argue, cry of happiness, cry of sorrow or hope Ji-won would go to the bathroom so she could run out the motel door. Finally she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She couldn't look at Ji-won. In every direction was a mirror revealing nothing but her frozen body. Her mouth open, but no sounds came out. The cigarette smoke was the only sign of life in the room.
She thought "yes," and as quickly thought "no." Did she love Ji-won? Yes and no. Did she want to wait for him? Yes and no. The water cooler let out a bubble, making a dense gurgling sound. She knew she had to say something, or Ji-won would simply try to tell her what they ought to do.
"But,” she finally said. It sounded odd as it came out. The room had been quiet for so long, there was nothing to contradict. “I want to open a hair shop. Not work as a cashier.”
Ji-won’s eyes opened a little and he sat up. He quickly reached for a cigarette. He realized then, while he had prepared what he wanted to say, he hadn’t accounted for anyone speaking back to him. He leaned forward in thought. He then calmly looked at Soo-jung again, resuming a calm and knowing gaze.
“After I work for a couple years I will buy you a hair shop.”
She left it at that. At that time in her mind there was some glimmer of hope that Ji-won could indeed earn enough money that she could open her own hair shop. Her stomach rose in excitement for a short moment. But her feeling calmed and then she was left with the same feeling as before. A feeling that whatever word she said at that time, it wouldn’t be the right one. They were back where they’d been to before. Even though his idea seemed remote and far-fetched, she wasn’t about to contradict him. There was no point. He’d tell her she was wrong and then they would start again. Soon she felt a smile come across her face. It wasn’t a real smile, more like a grin; a slightly happy-looking grimace.
It was quiet again. The pause and the smoke. Again Ji-won sensed he should say something. He wished Soo-jung would say something, but in the end he dramatically threw Soo-jung on the bed. He yanked her cigarette from her hand, took a sharp half-drag and tossed it behind his back. The cigarette slammed against the mirror. The ash rained down on the combs in formaldehyde and aftershave lotion.
Ji-won tried to fuck Soo-jung as if it were the last chance to emphasize the seriousness of his dream for their future. He had shared his heart with her and felt a great love at that moment. He threw open her robe and grabbed her breasts, exhaling deeply to increase the drama. Soo-jung winced, but was still unable to speak.
Ji-won smothered his face into her crotch and groaned, rushing back toward her face to push his lips into hers again. He wanted to devour her. He was scraping at her skin like he expected to take that, along with the robe, off from her body. He wanted to rip her body open and climb inside her like a sleeping bag.
Soo-jung made some attempts to follow his seeming passion. Just as when he’d announced their plan, her reflex was to accept. Ji-won put his fingers inside her and churned them around. He sounded like he would hyperventilate from the excitement. But it didn’t sound real. To either of them. Her breathing slowed and she mechanically ran her fingers through Ji-won's hair. She twisted it around one finger or another, until he surged and slammed on top of her, ravaging her neck and arms. He moved down to her crotch again and started biting the insides of her legs. Soo-jung cried out in pain. Genuinely beginning to fear for her sex she tried to turn to the side.
At that moment the phone in the room rang. They both stopped and looked the phone. Neither could comprehend that the phone had rung let alone who it might be. No one knew they were at the Roma motel. The only person who’d seen them was the woman who owned the place. There was no reason for her to call. It rang once more and then stopped. Ji-won and Soo-jung both waited until a full minute had passed and they could be sure no one was actually calling them, before they looked at each other.
Ji-won tried to resume, kissing her slowly on the neck and right breast. His momentum lost, by the time he sensed Soo-jung’s disinterest he was actually a little relieved. He came to a full stop, lying on top of her, their heads turned in opposite directions. He closed his eyes for a while. When he opened them he could see each of their bodies entirely in the mirror. Like two parallel lines.
Neither of them said anything for a while. Eventually the door in the next room broke the silence. They could hear a man and a woman talking. Within a minute they’d stopped talking and they could hear the woman writhing. The man groaned occasionally and then something started pounded against the wall the two rooms shared. The pounding was so strong Soo-jung could see the combs in formaldehyde shifting a little.
“We’re almost late for class,” she said.
Ji-won quickly agreed. He took out a cigarette and smoked it quickly while he got dressed. He felt he’d made his point. He nodded to himself as he buttoned his shirt. Their plan was set and clear. Soo-jung would follow him and he could leave for the military with a clear conscience, knowing that someone would be waiting for him when he got back. Suddenly, going to the military seemed a little less scary.
As they walked to class Soo-jung tried to organize her thoughts about Ji-won, the military, her job, and her future. While she did love Ji-won she realized she rarely thought of their love lasting into the future. Were these the ideas of a whore? She couldn’t be sure. Part of her thought she ought to marry a man like Ji-won as soon as possible. The other part of her couldn’t imagine ever being married.
That day in English class Ji-won didn't make any jokes. The concept of studying before going to the military was becoming more and more ridiculous. His future with Soo-jung had been the only question that mattered to him, and now that had been answered. Nothing else was relevant. He stared aimlessly at the ceiling, not realizing the teacher had asked him three times "What is your hobby?"
Ji-won glared back at the teacher.
"Game," Ji-won finally said.
"A complete sentence please," the teacher said.
Ji-won didn't understand "complete" or "sentence," so he repeated "game" again. Then "game room."
There was a pause as the teacher and Ji-won sized one another up.
"What is your problem today?" asked the teacher.
"Problem?" Ji-won didn’t understand “problem” either. So he stared at the teacher again. He wasn’t exactly trying to be confrontational, but the teacher could only interpret it as such.
The teacher got angry and eventually kicked Ji-won out of the class, which was fine with him. He went directly to the game room. On his way out of the building he messaged Soo-jung and told her to meet him there after class. He hated English, and he especially hated Americans like the teacher. Ji-won felt that in an indirect way his teacher or his kind anyway, was responsible for him having to go to the military.
Everyone at the game room knew Ji-won was leaving soon and they were happy about that. Ji-won, knowing he wouldn't be able to play computer games much in the army dedicated himself to moving up five more levels in World of Warcraft. This was nearly impossible, he knew, but if he did it would be his legacy at the game room and in Gupo in general. Everyone knew he was the best player in Gupo. Possibly in all of Busan. Some even suggested that he should become professional and compete on TV when he finished the military.
He knew that when he was in the middle of nowhere, shoveling snow or starring at North Korean soldiers for 20 hours a day, he’d savor this time now. When would he have such freedom again? When would he have the chance to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it? It would be more than two years. And what about after that? With these kinds of questions in his mind Ji-won started playing “Warcraft” for nearly 20 hours per day. He stopped going to class entirely.
He broke the day into two 10 hour shifts, eating ramen noodles every 4 or 5 hours. He drank one coffee per hour and smoked between 2 or 3 cigarettes per hour. After playing for 10 hours he would power nap for 15 minutes. He’d ask Soo-jung to make sure nothing was happening in the game that would damage his character or his chances of increasing his level. If there was a problem she should wake him up. After a 20 hour cycle he would go in the broom closet and sleep on the floor for 3 or 4 hours.
The kids at the game room marveled at Ji-won's strength. They already deferred to him because he was older, because of the display he’d put on at the dog market, because he had a girlfriend. But his game playing prowess drew near worship from the other kids. Even Soo-jung’s little brother started to openly, and even proudly speak about his sister’s boyfriend.
But after three days Soo-jung became worried. For both of them their discussion from the motel room evaporated into a haze of blue lights and cigarette smoke at Cyber Town. Soo-jung was happy to see the discussion come to an end, whereas Ji-won was comfortable in knowing that Soo-jung would wait for him.
"Have you looked in a mirror these days?"
Ji-won said nothing.
"Haven’t you lost weight? Have you even taken a shower?"
Ji-won made a face, gesturing to the side without taking his eyes from the screen.
"Aren't you worried at all? Why can't you look at me?"
Ji-won found her concern cute. "You're already like my wife aren't you?" He laughed, quickly slurping a bite of noodles from the cup beside him.
Soo-jung stared at Ji-won while he played the game. His face was attached to the screen. His fingers moved quickly, tapping a few keys, then stopping, occasionally looking even more intently at the screen. The computer screen reflected brown and gold flashing animations off his glasses. He was leaving in four days.
As she watched him, whatever reservations she had about their relationship ending started to fade. Her friends had warned her against staying with a man going into the military. Korean men change when they go to the military, people said. Learning how to kill someone changes a man. He can become more responsible, yes. But he can become irresponsible too. When he’s freed from that prison in two years what will he become? Will he run to her or away from her? Did she trust him enough to wait? Did she know him enough to wait for him?
Ji-won was still focused on the computer screen. He started talking to her about men having goals, and that it was her duty as his future wife to support him in his goals in life. Soo-jung looked at the three empty ramen containers to Ji-won’s right. The three empty cigarette packets to his left.
Ji-won made a "whaaaa!" noise and raised his fist in the air. "Another level is mine!" he said. A few boys stood up and walked over, including the tall boy that Ji-won had rammed into to the dog cage. They crowded around his computer to admire his work. Soo-jung soon found herself at the back of the crowd.
She stood there for a while and then decided to go home. After a while Ji-won noticed she’d left. He pulled out his phone, wondering if he'd missed her call or text message, but she hadn’t.
He continued to play. He was feeling in good form. He had once heard, while watching one of the daily computer game shows on TV, that the best players always allow themselves to become the game, and then, to let the game come to you. This was a mantra of sorts for Ji-won. At that time Ji-won felt a sense of oneness with the game. He felt light in his chair. He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t thirsty, and he didn’t even crave a cigarette. He just played easily and fluidly. Like a perfect machine.
Ji-won was still experiencing this euphoria as he approached his 30th continuous hour of playing Warcraft. He looked at his phone. It was 4 a.m. and everyone had left the game room except two high school boys a few rows away from his. He picked up his phone and quickly looked at it. Soo-jung still hadn't called him. He remembered he was officially on duty at the game room, and that he should check the stock of noodles, coffee and candy. He dialed Soo-jung's number. She had turned her phone off. He contemplated going home. During a short break in the game he swiveled in his chair and looked outside. He could feel the muscles in his calves contracting. A couple cars raced by and a crowd of drunken older men stumbled across Ji-won’s view. He turned back to the computer console and resolved to finish one more stage.
The owner of the game room typically made one appearance a day. Usually around 9 a.m. To count and collect the money. She arrived that day, and after walking through the front door noticed none of the food or drinks had been restocked. She angrily slammed her purse on the counter next to the cash register and went to the broom closet, where could find the hired help from time to time. She flung open the door, but there was only a blanket on the floor. She slammed the door shut and scanned the room. No one was there. She was getting angrier.
Owning a game room was her husband's idea. They owned several apartments in Gupo, a popular raw fish restaurant, and a coffee shop escort service. The latter two had enabled them to buy the apartments. The game room was an afterthought and she treated it as such. So long as she didn't have to deal with it she didn't care much what went on there. She likened to drug addicts and let them do what they wanted with the place so long as it maintained its measly profit and didn't burn down.
"Fucking kids," she said out loud, moving down each row with a wastebasket. She swept at some empty noodle bowls, candy wrappers and drink containers, making a pile with them before throwing them in the garbage. She wondered who was supposed to be on duty. She stopped and thought, vaguely recalling an image somewhere between Ji-won and Soo-jung's brother. "Fucking kids. Who the fuck is supposed to be here?" She took out her phone and dialed "PC Worker," which was Soo-jung's brother. It was 9:30 a.m. and he was in Chemistry class at the high school, but knowing it was his boss he answered the phone.
"Yes?" he said politely, trying to cover his mouth so his teacher wouldn’t hear him.
"Where the fuck are you?"
"I'm in class."
"Class?"
"I'm a high school student?"
There was a pause. "Who the fuck is working here now?"
"Ji-won."
"Ji-won?,” she paused, “Who the fuck is that?"
"Ji-won. Lee Ji-won. He's not there?"
"No, he's not here but you better fucking call him right now or I'm going to fire both of you. This place is a fucking mess and it looks like no one was here all night!"
"Yes. I will call him now."
The owner slammed her phone shut and kicked a noodle bowl across the floor. Orange broth splashed up her high heeled shoes and onto her nylons.
“Fuck!”
As she walked toward the bathroom to get some tissue she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A young man had his face down on a keyboard. She wasn’t sure who he was and she couldn’t see his face. She thought it might be the person who was supposed to be working.
She briskly walked over to his chair and kicked it with the tip of her pointy toed high heeled shoe.
“Sleep pig, wake up!”
She looked at her watch. She needed to get to one of the apartment buildings by 9:30 a.m. “Wake up bitch!” she screamed, kicking him hard on the leg.
It was only when she grabbed him by the hair of the back of his head that she could see his had a bluish hue. She jumped back in shock. Spastic rap music filled the air. It was Soo-jung’s brother calling.
Ji-won smelled something burning. He opened his eyes. He was in a hospital bed with an I.V. in his arm. He was a little scared and quickly looked around the room. He saw his father in the corner of the room talking to a doctor. His little brother was sitting next to his bed, eating a piece of freshly roasted squid. That was the burning smell.
He was in the large room of an old hospital. Just a few feet to his right an older man lay sick on a hospital bed, groaning with each breath. On his left was a young woman holding an ice pack to her right eye. Small trickles of blood ran out from under the pack.
Ji-won was overwhelmed by his senses all coming alive at once. He wondered where he phone was.
Ji-won's father started to walk across the room. His father’s eyes told Ji-won everything he needed to know. That if they weren't in the hospital at that moment, Ji-won would be getting beaten. He did a quick calculation and guessed he was leaving for the military in two days. Could he avoid his father during that time? By the looks of the situation, lying in a hospital bed, his father hovering over him, the answer was no.
In the car ride home to Gimhae his father said nothing. Ji-won wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. To avoid his father further he turned around and asked his little brother where his phone was.
"Don’t worry about your fucking phone," his father interrupted.
Ji-won stared out the window, knowing he’d be seeing some of these things for the last time. These things he’d spent so many hours looking at on the bus to and from Gimhae to see Soo-jung. The small farms. The gas station center. The trail of beef restaurants giving way to a pack of pink and purple outlined motels, giving way to the airport. The rows of apartment buildings in Busan getting smaller and smaller until they looked like a chalk line underlining the mountain tops.
He knew that when he saw all this again he would be looking through different eyes. He would be changed when he was in the military. He would be beaten, treated like an animal, emotionally tested in ways he’d never imagined. Every man said this. In a sense he was dying. His former self would be dead. That in itself didn’t bother him. It was the methods by which his former self would die he feared.
This was why Soo-jung’s love would be so vital to him once he’d left. The one constant in his life would be Soo-jung. She would remain the same. She would be the only bridge between his current and future self. This scared Ji-won a little, but mostly it made him suddenly desperate to see her. Did she even know he was in the hospital? Ji-won fidgeted in his chair. It was nearly evening. He hadn’t talked to Soo-jung in over a day. Was she worried? What if she wasn’t? Then what would be his base? If he didn’t have Soo-jung he could lose his old self entirely.
He started thinking of the Roma Motel. If he were leaving in two days how could they manage to go there again? Had he lost his last chance at going to the Roma Motel? He felt a pang in his stomach. He imagined Soo-jung, sitting in front of the mirror, carefully doing her makeup. He wanted to be there so badly. He’d taken it for granted. It was the most comfortable place in the world and he’d taken it for granted.
His father didn’t say anything to him as they pulled into the driveway of their small home. Ji-won couldn’t imagine what was in store for him. He got his phone from his brother and went directly into his bedroom. He turned his phone on. Soo-jung had called 12 times and sent 6 text messages. He started to call her, but then stopped. He needed a cigarette and could smell the smoke from one of his father's in the other room. He worried his father was trying to calm himself down, before coming to his bedroom for his head.
Soo-jung answered in an exasperated and angry voice. Once Ji-won explained what had happened, that he’d passed out playing “Warcraft,” and had suffered from dehydration and malnutrition, Soo-jung was silent. She later realized that it was at that moment that that any remaining possibility of her waiting for Ji-won while he served in the army disappeared. He was in many ways a child. She too was a child, and because of that their emotions as a couple were volatile. Most of the time, since they were both still children, they were able to hone their immaturity into something approaching love. But in two years they would be different people. The risk that their chemistry wouldn’t match on the other side was too great. She had to let him go.
Ji-won pleaded for Soo-jung to forgive him. Now, he was fighting for his future. His future in some desolate camp somewhere in South Korea, where any hint of compassion or love could save his life. The less Soo-jung yielded, the more he realized his future comfort was in jeopardy. He started to get the sinking feeling that his ideas of Soo-jung being bound to him because of her lack of her lack of options, was wrong. Her voice was direct and resigned. She hardly sounded like a woman who could never fall in love again. In realizing this error he felt a little ashamed. He had rarely tried to treat Soo-jung as an equal. As a human being. He wondered if it was too late.
Soo-jung told him she and his friends had planned a party for him the night before he would leave. As was often the tradition they would all escort him directly to the base to say goodbye. The plan was for them to meet at 5 p.m. the following day, near the Gupo train station.
Ji-won looked outside. It was dusk. Meeting his friends “tomorrow” meant that tonight would be his last night in Gimhae. His last night with his family. Suddenly his family, seemingly forgotten, popped into his mind. They would be gone from his world, and in less than 24 hours he’d be drinking and eating his last meal with his friends. And Soo-jung, the person he loved more than anything was also fading away. If she didn’t completely fade away it would be ages before he saw her again. Ji-won started to get tears in his eyes. The line was quiet again. Ji-won held his breath. As tears streamed down his face he was determined to not let Soo-jung hear him cry. It became too much to hold inside and he let out a sob, but he coughed to disguise it.
“Are you sick?” Soo-jung asked.
“No…..” he tried to buy some time so he could calm his emotion down. He pulled a cigarette from his bag. He figured it being the last night in his home he was willing to accept whatever punishment from his father for smoking in his bedroom. It was worth it to calm himself down so Soo-jung wouldn’t hear him cry.
“Wait a minute,” he said.
He put the phone on the bed and slid his window open. He let out one more muted cry as a cough, lit the cigarette and took a deep inhale. He could feel the emotion ease back into his stomach. He picked up the phone.
“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” he said calmly.
It might have simply been intuition, or maybe she knew Ji-won’s mind even better than she’d thought, but she knew exactly what was happening on the other side of the phone. She knew Ji-won was crying. She knew he had scrambled for a cigarette in order to calm down, and she knew he was now going to try and be direct and resigned. She also knew that while the plan was to meet at 5 p.m. That Ji-won would want to meet earlier and somehow try to get them to a motel one last time. She didn’t fully understand why until several months later, but at that time, in her heart, she knew she needed to avoid going to the motel at all costs.
“We’ll go to that eel restaurant you like, first. Then we’re going to a soju bar,” she explained.
“You’ve made a plan for your man?”
“What?”
“You’ve worked hard to make a plan for me. For our love.” He was saying this in a half teasing way. But Soo-jung quickly changed the subject asking him some questions about the hospital he was in.
It wasn’t a matter of desiring Ji-won or not. She loved him in a way, but she knew things were changing. Most importantly, he would be gone. She would be living with his memory, and a memory would simply be that. Some stuff inside her brain. A shape to fill a lack. Until he came home more than two years later. But then what? Who would come home? He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t. Could she love the new Ji-won? Maybe. Maybe not.
As they continued the conversation the subject of the next night arose again. Soo-jung could sense Ji-won’s childlike excitement rising. This made her happy, so she began to explain in more detail. Which friends were coming, how she’d consulted each of them in order to make the best plan. By the end of the conversation Ji-won was nearly gasping with excitement. The heightened emotion of leaving, the comfort of being with his friends for his last night, all weaved together by Soo-jung, the love of his life. He almost laughed as tears, different tears, started to well up in his eyes. His voice cracked a little as he told Soo-jung he would try to go to Gupo a couple hours early so they could have some time together alone.
Soo-jung quickly told him her mother was going to start selling fish at her sister’s store again and that she might go help them during the day. Ji-won started to calculate how much money he had. He thought he might even spring for one of the expensive motels near the train station. He might as well, he figured. His money would be worthless in about 36 hours.
His father did not beat him that night. Instead he took Ji-won to a dog soup restaurant, and lectured him about the military and a Korean man’s duty. Ji-won half listened and picked at his soup. He hated eating dog soup. The thought of eating dogs disgusted him, but from time to time his father insisted on him eating it in order to “to increase his man power.” The restaurant was entirely filled with men slurping and talking loudly.
As his father went on to describe the benefits of military service Ji-won’s mind was racing to frame his final 24 hours. He had to somehow get to Gupo before 3 p.m. so he could take Soo-jung directly to a motel. He had to give her a fucking she wouldn’t easily forget. He had to show her something special. He would make her an addict of his love so she would only dream of him at night. Everything needed to be perfect, he thought. He would definitely go to the expensive motel. He would surprise her and take her to the best hotel he could find.
As he lay in bed that night he started to plan each minute. If he could go to Gupo before 3 p.m., he could fuck Soo-jung, meet his friends at 5 p.m., and eat dinner. As he started to drift to sleep, Ji-won realized that if everything went according to plan, that sometime around 10 p.m., between the soju bar and the singing room, there might even be a chance to play Warcraft for an hour or two. One last time. This thought made him a little excited and helped him go to sleep easily.
Ji-won woke up next morning reciting the day’s schedule in his mind, as if he hadn’t slept. He became so focused, he almost forgot he was leaving. When he walked outside his bedroom Ji-won’s father summoned him to the kitchen. He put his hand on Ji-won’s back and led him outside. With a knowing grin he handed Ji-won a cigarette. He explained how important smoking in the military could be. That only a very small minority of soldiers didn’t smoke, and that by smoking Ji-won could curry some favor with his superiors. That it was important to make his superiors comfortable.
Ji-won tried to act like it was the first time anyone had suggested that to him, even though he'd heard such things at least 100 times since he was 16. Ji-won coughed and, in general, acted like smoking was completely new to him. His father enjoyed giving his son some serious advice and even said something to the effect that it was his duty to the family to do well in the military.
Ji-won tried to call Soo-jung several times that morning, but she didn’t answer her phone. He decided he would go directly to Gupo anyway. He remembered Soo-jung saying something about helping her mother at the fish market. He could put his backpack in a locker there and then search for her.
Ji-won was in a daze when he said goodbye to his family. He cried a little, when he hugged his mother, who was sobbing. But his focus was entirely on going to Gupo to see Soo-jung, fucking her, and with a little luck, playing an hour or two of Warcraft that night. Even as his father hugged him much harder than he’d expected it was hard to contemplate whatever emotion the situation may have been creating. Ji-won was trying to remember which fish stall Soo-jung’s Aunt owned. He went directly to the market after putting his bag in a locker. He checked his phone. It was nearly 3 p.m. He quickened his pace. He checked his phone again. Where was Soo-jung? He called her again.
He knew the general area of where the fish stalls were, but there were others strewn about. He combed through the produce section. A man on a moped rammed into his back foot and pushed Ji-won to the side as he sped by. Ji-won’s frustration swelled. He sent Soo-jung a text message. He tried to sound firm, but nice. The last thing he needed was Soo-jung becoming angry at him. He had no time to waste if he was going to get her to a motel.
When he finally found the main fish section Ji-won stopped and smoked a cigarette. His eyes scanned the tops of each stall. There were over 100. He resolved to inspect every one. He looked at his phone. There was a message from Soo-jung telling him she was at home getting ready. That she’d just taken a shower.
Ji-won’s heart sank. Soo-jung’s apartment was far away. Ten minutes even by taxi. If he left now, and Soo-jung was somehow finished getting ready, and they went directly to a motel, it would still be too late. Once they met up with his friends there would be no chance to go to a motel. It was over. There would be no motel with Soo-jung until after basic training.
Ji-won shook his head and looked into the fish market. There was a tank of eels at the stall closest to him. He stared at them for a while, watching them writhe back and forth, barely enough room to even move. Soon his life would be something like that of a captured eel. He’d be sleeping in a room with 50 men side by side. Less than 12 inches separating them from one another. He spat in the tank and quickly walked away.
Ji-won walked directly to Cyber Town. As he walked in some of the kids whispered to each other.
“I heard he had died.”
“He didn’t die. He doesn’t have to go to the military.”
“He’s going tomorrow, I heard.”
“He’s the best player in Busan.”
“He’s the best player in Gupo. Not Busan.”
“Where is `lump lip’ today.”
“Look, he’s sitting down to play.”
Knowing it would be his last time, Ji-won sat down to play Warcraft one more time. But as he sat there, his fingers finding their familiar places, shooting this, killing that, his heart just wasn’t into it. A sense of impending doom circulated through his body. Not only the doom of going to the military. But more importantly an indefinable doom that something in his relationship with Soo-jung was very wrong. He wondered if he’d been deceiving himself, thinking she would wait for him, when in fact she had no plan to do so. As he played the game he tried to retrace her actions. Remember what she had said and done recently. Other than the phone call they’d had the night before, it was hard to remember much of anything.
Soo-jung walked into Cyber Town and put her hands over Ji-won’s eyes. He stopped playing the game and turned around. She was beautiful, he thought. She wore a short plaid skirt, a red sweater with a white collared shirt, and giant hoop earrings. Inside the earrings the word “love” dangled, shimmering in the purple and blue light from the game room. He forgot about the game he’d been playing and they walked outside.
There were several times that night that Ji-won, not entirely meaning to, found himself aimlessly staring at Soo-jung. He felt as if he were already in a cage looking out at her from the inside. He was watching her live her life as it would be when he was gone. She was laughing, talking, pinning her upper lip down with her teeth. He had the overwhelming feeling that all of these things would continue, even though he would be gone. He would dream about Soo-jung, he would stare at pictures of her, he would conjure her image in his most difficult moments, but she wouldn’t be there for him to touch.
At one point the conversation turned to “military couples.” Ji-won’s friends started to tease him that Soo-jung would leave him if he wasn’t careful. Ji-won and Soo-jung avoided each other’s eyes. Ji-won stared at his friends as they teased and pretended to take bets on how long Soo-jung would wait before leaving him. There was no timetable they argued. It could happen immediately. Six months into service, one year, one and a half years, even a few weeks before returning. Soo-jung and Ji-won stared down at the table. Soo-jung stared to cry. No one noticed at first, but soon tears were falling from her face onto the table. Ji-won noticed and grabbed her hand tightly, but this only opened the door for more crying. The table fell silent and one of the other girls quickly handed Soo-jung a package of tissues. Ji-won led Soo-jung outside.
For a while, as they stood under the electric sign advertising the singing room below the bar, they looked like high school kids again. Shy, not used to being around members of the opposite sex, they stood as if they were strangers. But as they stood their eyes occasionally darted to spot the other, and like a clock, they slowly began to edge toward one another.
They both wanted to say everything at once. There was so much to say, yet no way to say it. Soo-jung wanted to tell Ji-won that she couldn’t wait for him, that while she cared about him deeply, she was too young and too naïve to trust her heart and commit to him. That in many ways she was still a little girl. That she had many things to learn in life, things that Ji-won couldn’t teach her from an army base. That the future was unknowable, and while she wanted to offer both he and she hope for the future, it was impossible.
Ji-won wanted to tell her that he was starting to understand that he’d misjudged Soo-jung. That he’d always assumed she couldn’t afford not be with him, and that in doing so he’d sold her short as a person. This, despite the fact that in his heart, he loved her greatly, even though his actions didn’t always show this.
So they just hugged. At first Ji-won scanned the immediate area for a motel, but the idea quickly left his head. The uncertainty of their future had become a reality. The next time he held Soo-jung, if he could hold her again at all, things would different. To expect her to be the same, and for him to find and catch his former self in her was an unrealistic expectation. He was scared, yes, and he didn’t want to go. But that wasn’t his concern anymore. Nothing was his concern anymore, because it was upon him.
As they let go of each other Ji-won offered Soo-jung a cigarette. They smoked, not saying anything. The only sound was the electric sign above them, humming two tones. Bright and dark.
Years later Ji-won would recall the sound of that sign. Like two buzzes, each with its own distinct pitch. Similar, but not matching exactly. On/off. Purple/Pink. Neither dominant, just back and forth, at war, synchronized for a short time and then separate again. Like so many things in life. For Ji-won the electric sign would come to symbolize his memory of him and Soo-jung. The girl he loved deeply, but the girl that time refused to allow him to be with.
Soo-jung would also remember. She remembered the hanging silence. The soft buzz of the sign reminded her a little of the light above the mirror at the Roma motel; where she had sometimes envisioned her future with Ji-won. She would always remember how even though she’d convinced herself that she’d made the right choice; she may have passed on the truest and purest form of love she would ever know.
“We should get my friends and move on to the singing room,” Ji-won finally said. There was a little regret in his voice. Soo-jung didn’t want the moment to end either. She smiled broadly, her upper lip falling across her bottom lip. She nodded her head and they went inside.
A few hours later everyone piled into taxis and went to the train station where Ji-won would catch the 5:10 a.m. train. Soo-jung pulled his bag from the locker and everyone helped Ji-won hoist it onto his back.
At the gate leading to the train his friends huddled around him. They each said goodbye and offered words of encouragement. They gave him dried pumpkin and M&Ms for the train ride.
When it came time for Ji-won to say goodbye to Soo-jung the rest of the group slowly backed away.
Ji-won felt his legs might collapse from under him and he didn’t know what to do or say. Whatever questions had remained in his mind had been answered. He was leaving part of his life behind at the train station. Soo-jung fell into Ji-won’s arms and they hugged for a long time. No one watching, nor Soo-jung or Ji-won, wanted to see them let go of each other.
Just before they did let go Ji-won muttered something into Soo-jung’s ear. She laughed softly and they pulled back their heads and smiled at each other. They slowly backed away, still holding hands, then letting go. They continued to look at one another, walking backwards, not wanting to let the other fall from sight. They each bit their upper lip and tried to hold back the tears that would soon enough overwhelm them. They nodded their heads in a small polite bow, backing away until they could barely see one another; at last turning in their own directions.