The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [15]
“Some psychopath stuck me in here,” she said. “Thank God you came along, I thought I was dead, and then you came to set me free.”
Jun Do looked again for any sign of Gil, but he knew there wouldn’t be.
“Thanks for getting me out of here,” she said. “Really, thanks for setting me free.”
Jun Do tested the strip of tape with his fingers, but it had lost much of its stickiness. A lock of her hair was fixed to the tape. He let it go in the wind.
“My God,” she said. “You’re one of them.”
Sand blew into the bag, into her eyes.
“Believe me,” he said. “I know what you’re going through.”
“You don’t have to be a bad guy,” she said. “There’s goodness in you, I can see it. Let me go, and I’ll sing for you. You won’t believe how I can sing.”
“Your song has been troubling me,” he said. “The one about the boy who chooses to quit rowing in the middle of the lake.”
“That was only an aria,” she said. “From a whole opera, one filled with subplots and reversals and betrayals.”
Jun Do leaned close now. “Does the boy stop because he has rescued the girl and on the far shore he will have to give her to his superiors? Or has the boy stolen the girl and therefore knows that punishment awaits?”
“It’s a love story,” she said.
“I understand that,” he said. “But what is the answer? Could it be that he knows he’s marked for a labor camp?”
She searched his face, as if he knew the answer.
“How does it end?” he asked. “What happens to them?”
“Let me out and I’ll tell you,” she said. “Open this bag and I’ll sing you the ending.”
Jun Do took the zipper and closed it. He spoke to the black nylon where her face had been. “Keep your eyes open,” he said. “I know there’s nothing to see, but whatever happens, don’t shut them. Darkness and close quarters, they’re not your enemy.”
He dragged the bag to the waterline. The ocean, frothy cold, washed over his shoes as he scanned the waves for Officer So. When a wave reached high upon the sand and licked the bag, she screamed inside, and he had never heard such a shriek. From far up the beach, a light flashed at him. Officer So had heard her. He brought the black inflatable around, and Jun Do dragged the bag into the surf. Using the straps, the two of them rolled it into the boat.
“Where’s Gil?” he asked.
“Gil’s gone,” Jun Do said. “He was right beside me, and then he wasn’t.”
They were knee-deep in waves, steadying the boat. The lights of the city were reflected in Officer So’s eyes. “You know what happened to the other mission officers?” he asked. “There were four of us. Now there’s only me. The others are in Prison 9—have you heard of that place, tunnel man? The whole prison’s underground. It’s a mine, and when you go in, you never see the sun again.”
“Look, scaring me isn’t going to change anything. I don’t know where he is.”
Officer So went on, “There’s an iron gate at the minehead, and once you pass that, that’s it—there are no guards inside, no doctors, no cafeteria, no toilets. You just dig in the dark, and when you get some ore, you drag it to the surface to trade through the bars for food and candles and pickaxes. Even the bodies don’t come out.”
“He could be anywhere,” Jun Do said. “He speaks Japanese.”
From the bag came Rumina’s voice. “I can help you,” she said. “I know Niigata like the lines on my palm. Let me out, and I swear I’ll find him.”
They ignored her.
“Who is this guy?” Jun Do asked.
“The spoiled kid of some minister,” Officer So said. “That’s what they tell me. His dad sent him here to toughen him up. You know—the hero’s son’s always the meekest.”
Jun Do turned and considered the lights of Niigata.
Officer So put his hand on Jun Do’s shoulder. “You’re soldierly,” he said. “When it comes time to dispense, you dispense.” He removed the bag’s nylon shoulder strap and made a slip loop at one end. “Gil’s got a noose around our fucking necks. Now it’s his turn.”
Jun Do walked the warehouse district with a strange calm. The moon, such as it was, reflected the same in every puddle, and when a bus stopped for him, the driver took one look