After a while, he looked up at me with his eyes open wide. I’ll never forget that stare. He opened his mouth to speak, but all his strength had gone. All we could hear was the sound of his labored breathing. Then he closed his eyes.
He snored for twenty minutes or so, and I let myself think he just might pull through.
But then the snoring stopped. The room fell silent. The man known as Tiger was dead.
I buried him on the far side of the mountain in Dong Chong-ri, facing south toward the sea. That way he could see South Korea, his mother country. His funeral was a perfunctory affair in the administration office of the factory where I worked. I didn’t know where Eiko was, so I couldn’t even tell her of our father’s death. I sent Hifumi a telegram, but she didn’t arrive in time. My father had so many friends over the course of his life and had helped so many people along the way, but not one of them was there to lay him to rest.
I still don’t know what my father made of his wreck of a life. I never will. He knew he’d been deceived by the League, but he never really complained about his lot. Did he feel some kind of misguided patriotism through it all? I’ll never know. I loved him, of course, but there are things I will never understand about him.
Sometime after his death, my sister Masako informed my wife and me that she’d found a job, and she moved out with her two stepchildren. I didn’t know what kind of job she could possibly have found, since there weren’t any jobs to be had, but she may have left simply because there wasn’t enough food to go around. I felt very empty and alone after they left.
A few weeks later, her stepkids burst into our house in the middle of the night. Their mother was being beaten up by a whole group of people, they yelled frantically. I had to do something.
They led me through the icy streets to the place where they were staying. Five young men sat in a pitch-black room, surrounding my sister.
One man was trying to block the entrance. “Are you her brother? I lent her ten thousand yen. If you can’t pay me back, I’m going to kill the bitch,” he said in a very low voice.
“What the hell kind of person are you? Beating her up right in front of her children. You’ll get your money back. I’ll see to it. Now, piss off before I break your neck!” I yelled.
He hesitated, and I knew he was sizing me up, trying to decide if he and his cronies should come after me as well. But he just clenched his fists, called off his men, and vanished.
I found a light switch by the door and flipped it, but there was no electricity.
My sister was sobbing. Her stepchildren burst into tears and hugged her. I peered around the room. It was difficult to see much in the darkness, but one thing was obvious: there wasn’t a single stick of furniture in it. They were clearly squatting there. And the job she’d talked about? Obviously a fabrication. No job meant no food ration. All she could do to survive was borrow money.
But ten thousand yen! It was only the equivalent of eighty dollars or so, but to me, that was an astronomical sum. Even if you had a proper job, it would take several years to save up that amount. What had she done with it?
I tried to borrow some money to help her, but it was hopeless. I asked everyone I could think of. Returnees. Managers in the factory. Even people who’d previously looked down on me. But everyone was struggling to survive themselves.
I eventually decided to visit Ro Jegu-an. We’d attended the same Korean school in Yokohama, and he was the richest returnee in Hamhung. I didn’t really think he’d remember me, but he was our only chance. So I looked him up.
When I arrived at his place, I just stared at the doorknob, which was so polished that I could see my reflection in its gleaming surface. I found myself wiping my hands on my work pants and straightening my clothes—not that it mattered. When I looked down at my shoes, I saw that my big toes were poking out, and my tattered shirt was missing some buttons. I suddenly felt ashamed of myself, but I had no choice. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Then the door opened, and a man’s face appeared. He had a round face and rosy cheeks. He was the picture of health.
I kind of jammed myself in the doorway so that he couldn’t just slam the door in my face.
“My name’s Masaji Ishikawa. I don’t suppose you remember me, but we went to the same school in Yokohama. I think we may have spoken once or twice. The fact is, I’ve come here to ask you a favor.”
He looked suspicious. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you. It was such a long time ago. Anyway, you’d better come in.”
The whole experience was surreal. I’d never seen anything like his place. My eyes moved from the TV to the telephone to the sparkling chandelier to the furnishings fit for a queen and then down to the sumptuous carpet. It felt soft beneath my big toes. And room after room after room. The place seemed to go on forever. I could hardly take it all in.
I sat down across from him on the sofa. His wife brought a cup of tea and put it on the low table in front of me. I lowered my head. There was some expensive-looking candy on a small silver tray. Why on earth do I remember that? I don’t know. But I do remember I told him the truth about my sister, about how desperate our situation had become. I asked if he could lend me some money. I promised to pay him back.
He coughed once and then fell silent. I waited, trying to think how to fill the painful silence.
Finally he said, “Hold your head up! Don’t sit bowed down like that!”
He turned to his wife and asked her something, his voice very low. I have no idea what he said, but his wife looked very cross and made no attempt to hide her irritation.
Then a miracle happened. Ten thousand yen appeared, right there on the table in front of me. I could scarcely believe my eyes. I could pay back my sister’s debt in its entirety! I forced back my tears and thanked the man from the bottom of my heart as best I could. I couldn’t find the words, and my throat felt constricted, like I could barely breathe. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and relief as I left his sumptuous home.
As usual, however, I was too optimistic. Oh sure, I paid off my sister’s debt, but a few days later, she simply disappeared. It turned out she’d borrowed money from other people too. I have no idea what she spent that money on. I’ll be wondering about that till the day I die.
I heard rumors occasionally. They were seen sleeping near the station. Then they were sleeping in front of someone’s house, living on whatever scraps they could find on the street. I went looking for them whenever I heard news of where they might be, but I could never find them. I never saw them again.
CHAPTER 5
July 8, 1994, began like any other day. The sky above Hamhung was thick with haze. You would have thought a storm was on the way, but the billowing clouds were actually just smoke from the factories.
I went to work as usual. Around lunchtime, a woman’s high-pitched voice came across the factory speakers, announcing that we should be prepared for a special news bulletin. I couldn’t imagine what it could be.
I was taking a break, standing in a corner and smoking a cigarette, when solemn music suddenly started booming from the speaker above my head.
“There is very important news. There is very important news. Today, the Great Leader, Comrade Kim Il-sung, passed away!”
The factory abruptly fell silent. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stood there dumbfounded. But not for long. Soon a great clamor filled the air. People began crying and wailing, while others pounded the workbenches and walls.
My cigarette slipped from my fingers, and my jaw dropped. To my utter shock, I found myself crying too. I have no idea why, but hot tears streamed down my cheeks. Was it shock? Fear? Relief? I felt a strange mixture of feelings that I’ve never been able to explain to this day.