The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [174]
“No, no, no,” she said. “You never do that to me, you never disappear on me. We all go together. Your job is to make that happen. Is it the Casablanca movie that’s got you confused?” Her voice was rising now. “You don’t stay behind like a martyr, like Rick. Rick failed at his job, his job was to …” She stopped herself before she became too upset. Instead, she gave him that voluptuous actress smile of hers. “You can’t leave me. I’m your captive,” she said. “What good’s a captive without her captor? Won’t we need a lot of time together if we’re to prove once and for all if the Dear Leader’s syndrome is true?”
He could hear the lie in her voice. Her acting, he could recognize it now. But he saw the desperation and vulnerability underneath, and he loved her all the more for it.
“Of course I am going with you,” Ga told her. “I’ll always be with you.”
And then came the kiss. It started with the tilt of her head, her eyes flashing to his mouth, a hand slowly reaching to his collarbone, where it rested, and then she leaned in, the slowest lean in the world. He recognized the kiss. It was from Hold the Banner High!, the one she planted on the weak-minded South Korean border guard, distracting him while her band of freedom fighters cut the power to the sentry tower and began the liberation of South Korea from the hands of its capitalist oppressors. He’d dreamed of that kiss and now it was his.
Into his ear, she whispered, “Let’s escape.”
CITIZENS! Open your windows and cast your eyes upward, for a crow flies above Pyongyang, its raked beak twitching at every possible threat to the patriotic populace below. Hear the black wings beat, flinch at its sharp call. Observe this master of the air swooping into the schoolyards to sniff all the children for traces of cowardice, then dive, claws extended, to gauge the loyalty of the doves that adorn the statue of Kim Il Sung. Being the only animal with eyes sharp enough to spot virginity, witness our crow circle a Juche Youth Troop, and nod in approval as this illustrious avian performs an aerial inspection of their reproductive purity.
But America’s what’s really on this crow’s mind. It’s not hunting chestnut thieves or peering in housing-block windows for the telltale paw-prints of illegal dog farming. No, citizens, the Americans have accepted the Dear Leader’s invitation to visit Pyongyang, the most glorious capital in the world. So the dark wings that protectively cast their shadow upon the fields of Arirang are hunting for any hint of capitalist sympathizers. One traitor is all it would take to disillusion a land so pure it knows nothing of materialist greed or war-crime sneak attacks. Luckily, citizens, no animal keeps its benevolent eye on the Korean people like the crow. It won’t let ours become a nation where people give names to canines, oppress others because of the color of their skin, and eat pharmaceutically sweetened pills to abort their babies.
But why, you ask, does this crow circle the Chosun Relaxation Footpath? Isn’t this where our finest citizens come to stroll, where young people gather to wash the feet of the old and where on a hot day wet nurses volunteer their paps to refresh Pyongyang’s finest yangban babies? The keen-eyed crow is here, citizens, because it spotted a man tossing a shiny object into the bushes, where some scrambling orphans fought to obtain it. Not only does the giving of coins to orphans rob them of their self-respect and Juche Spirit, it violates a central rule of good citizenship: Practice Self-Sufficiency.
Looking more closely, the crow noted that as this man spoke to a woman, he made certain gestures that were clear indicators of the discussion of a plan. Tomorrow is a concern of the state, citizens. Tomorrow is the business of your leaders, and you must leave what’s to come in their hands. So another rule of good citizenship had been