The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [180]
When the Propaganda boys got done with her story, though, she was a monstrous capitalist spy bent on kidnapping loyal children of the Party to work as slaves in a Bible factory in Seoul. My parents were addicted to the story. Every night I had to listen to their summary of the loudspeaker’s latest installment.
“Go write your own tales of North Korean triumph,” I told the boys from Propaganda.
“But we require real stories,” one told me.
“Don’t forget,” the other added. “These stories are not yours—they’re the property of the people.”
“How’d you like me to take your biographies?” I asked them, and they didn’t miss the implied threat.
They said, “We’ll be back.”
I stuck my head in the Pubyok lounge, which was empty. The place was littered with empty bottles, which meant they’d pulled an all-nighter. On the floor was a pile of long black hair. I knelt down and lifted a lock, silken in the light. Oh, Q-Kee, I thought. Inhaling slowly and deeply, I smelled her essence. Looking up to the big board, I saw that the Pubyok had cleared my cases, every one of them except for Commander Ga. All those people. All their stories, lost.
That’s when I noticed Q-Kee in the doorway, watching me. Her head was indeed buzzed, and she wore a Pubyok-brown shirt, military pants, and Commander Ga’s black boots.
I dropped the swirl of hair, and rose from my knees.
“Q-Kee,” I said. “Good to see you.”
She said nothing.
“I see a lot has changed since I was conscripted to help with the harvest.”
“I’m sure it was voluntary,” she said.
“Of course it was.” Pointing at the pile of hair, I added, “I was just using my investigative skills.”
“To determine what?”
There was an awkward silence.
“It looks like you’ve got the Commander’s boots there,” I said. “They should fetch a good barter at the night market.”
“Actually, they fit me pretty well,” she said. “I think I’ll keep them.”
I nodded, admired her boots a moment. Then I caught her eye.
“Are you still my intern?” I asked. “You didn’t switch sides, did you?”
She reached out to me. There was a folded slip of paper in her fingers.
“I’m handing you this, aren’t I?” she said.
I opened the paper. It was some kind of hand-drawn map. There were sketches of a corral, a fire pit, fishing poles, and guns. Some of the words were in English, but I could make out the word “Texas.”
Q-Kee said, “I found this inside Ga’s right boot.”
“What do you think it is?” I asked her.
“It might be the place where we find our actress.” Q-Kee turned to go, but then she looked back. “You know, I’ve seen all her movies. The Pubyok, they don’t seem to care about really finding her. And they couldn’t get Ga, or whoever he is, to talk. But you’ll get results, right? You’ll find Sun Moon. She needs a proper burial. Results, that’s the side I’m on.”
I studied the map a long time. I had it spread across the Pubyok Ping-Pong table and was contemplating every word and line, when Sarge came in. He was soaking wet.
“Been doing some waterboarding?” I asked him.
“Actually, it’s raining,” he said. “A big storm’s coming in from the Yellow Sea.”
Sarge rubbed his palms together. Though he smiled, I could tell his hands were hurting.
I pointed at the big board. “I see there was a mass confession while I was out.”
Sarge shrugged. “We got a whole team of Pubyok with time on their hands. And here you were with ten open cases, just you and two interns. We were only showing some solidarity.”
“Solidarity?” I asked. “What happened to Leonardo?”
“Who?”
“My team leader, the baby-faced one. He left work one night and never came back. Like the rest of the guys who used to be on my team.”
“You’re asking me to solve one of life’s mysteries,” he said. “Who’s to say what becomes of people? Why does rain fall down and not up? Why was the snake created cowardly while the dog was born vicious?”
I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or not. Sarge wasn’t exactly a philosopher. And since Leonardo’s disappearance,