The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [200]
“Arirang, Arirang, ah-rah-ree-yoh, Arirang all alone,
With a bottle of rice wine hidden under my skirt.
I looked for you, my love, in our secret spot, in Odong, Odong Forest.
Arirang, Arirang, give me back my love.
“When I was finished, the Dear Leader seemed not to hear the faint song answering back.
“I was taken to his personal train car, where the windows were so thick that the light through them was green and warped. Here, he asked me to recite lines from a story he had typed out. It was called ‘Tyrants Asunder.’ How could he fail to smell the urine on me, or the stink of hunger that creeps up your throat and infects your breath? I spoke the words, though they had no meaning for me in that state. I could barely finish a sentence without succumbing.
“Then the Dear Leader called out Bravo and showered me with applause. Tell me, he said. Tell me you will memorize my lines, say you will accept the role.
“How could he know that I didn’t really understand what a movie was, that I’d only heard broadcasts of revolutionary operas? How could I know that on the Dear Leader’s train there were other cars whose construction was for propositions much less noble than auditions?
“Here, the Dear Leader gestured large, as if we were now in a theater. Of course, such is the subtlety of this art form, he added, that my lines will become yours. The people will see you fill the screen and remember only the emotion of your voice bringing the words to life.
“The train beneath me started moving.
“Please! I called out, it was almost a scream. My mother must be safe.
“Certainly, he said. I’ll have someone check on her.
“I don’t know what came over me. I raised my eyes to his. Safe forever, I said.
“He smiled with the surprise of new appreciation. Safe, forever, he agreed.
“I saw that he responded to conditions. He spoke the language of rules.
“Then I’ll do it, I told him. I’ll perform your story.
“This is the moment I was ‘discovered.’ How fondly the Dear Leader recalls it, as if through his keen insight and wisdom, I was saved from some destructive natural force, such as a landslide. It was a story he loved to recount over the years, when we were alone in his opera box or sailing through the sky on his personal gondola, this story of fortune bringing our two trains together. He never meant it as a threat to me, to remind me of how far I had to fall. Rather, it was a reminder of the forever of us.
“Through the green of the window, I watched the train bearing my mother recede.
“I knew you’d agree, the Dear Leader said. I had a feeling. I’ll cancel the other actress right away. In the meantime, let’s get you some proper clothes. And that ear of yours could use some attention.”
In the dark, Commander Ga said the word “cancel.”
“Cancel,” Sun Moon repeated. “How many times have I thought of that other girl? How could the Dear Leader know that my arms still go cold for her?”
“What happened to her?” Ga asked.
“You know what happened to her,” she said.
They were quiet a moment.
“There is another thing the Dear Leader doesn’t know about me,” she said. “But it’s something he’ll soon find out.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to re-create one of my grandmother’s songs. In America, I will discover the missing words, and this song, it will be about him. It will contain everything of this place that I could never utter, every last bit of it, and I’m going to sing it on the state channel of America’s central broadcasting division and everyone in the world will know the truth of him.”
“The rest of the world knows the truth of him,” he said.
“No, they don’t,” she said. “They won’t know it until they hear it in my voice. It’s a song I thought I’d never get to sing.” Sun Moon struck a match. In the flash of it, she said, “And then you came along. Do you see that the Dear Leader has no idea that I’m the purest actress, that it’s not just when I speak his lines, but every single moment? It is also the actress