The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [112]
There was a knock at the door. No one ever knocked at this door, so out of the way is their house. This is the safest nation in the world, where crime is unheard of, so she didn’t fear for herself. Yet she hesitated. Her husband was the hero Commander Ga, often away on dangerous missions, as he was right now. What if something had befallen him, and here was a messenger of the state to deliver the bad news? She knew that he truly belonged to his nation, to his people, and that she shouldn’t think of him as hers, and yet she did—such was her love. How could she help it?
When the door opened, there stood Commander Ga—his uniform was crisp and on his chest were pinned both the Ruby Star and the Eternal Flame of Juche. He stepped inside and at the sight of Sun Moon’s great beauty, he brazenly undressed her with his eyes. Look at how he ogled her curves beneath her housecoat, how he studied the ways in which each small motion of her body heaved her chest. Look at how this coward treated the great Korean modesty of Sun Moon like rubbish!
The good citizen is thinking, How can you call the hero Commander Ga a coward? Did Commander Ga not famously complete six assassination missions via the tunnels under the DMZ? Does he not hold the Golden Belt in taekwondo, the most deadly martial art in the world? Did Ga not win for his bride the cinema actress Sun Moon, star of the movies Immortally Devoted and Oppressors Tumble?
The answer, citizens, is that this was not the genuine Commander Ga! Look at the photo of the real Commander Ga on the wall behind this imposter. The man in the picture had broad shoulders, a crenellated brow, and teeth worn down from aggressive grinding. Now look at the spindly man wearing the Commander’s uniform—sunken chest, girl’s ears, barely the notion of a noodle in his trousers. Certainly it is an insult to do this imposter the honor of being called Commander Ga, but for the beginning of this story, it will suffice.
He commanded, “I am Commander Ga, and you will treat me as such.”
Even though all her instincts told her this was not true, she was wise to set aside her own feelings and trust the guidance of a government official, for he bore the rank of minister. When in doubt, always look to your leaders for proper behavior.
For two full weeks, though, she was wary of him. He had to sleep in the tunnel with the dog, and he was only allowed out to taste of the broth that she prepared once daily for him. His body was lean, but he did not complain of the thin soup. Every day, she drew a hot bath for him, and he was allowed to enter the house from the tunnel to cleanse his body. Then, like a dutiful wife, Sun Moon bathed in his leftover wash water. Finally, it was back to the tunnel with the canine, an animal not meant to be domesticated. For an entire year, this beast had chewed the furniture and urinated at will. No amount of beatings from Sun Moon’s husband could get the dog to obey. Now, Commander Ga spent his time in the tunnel training the animal to “sit” and “lie down” as well as other indolent phrases from capitalism. Worst of the commands was “hunt,” which encouraged the beast to poach game from the public lands of the people.
For two weeks, this is the routine they kept, as if by maintaining it, the real husband would simply enter one day and all would be as if he never disappeared. As if the current man in her house were nothing but a smoker’s intermission in one of her epic