The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [220]
Tommy turned to the Senator. “You wanna inspect a forklift?” he asked.
When the Senator hesitated, the Dear Leader called for Commander Park to stop one of the forklifts. Ga could see Comrade Buc approaching from the far side of the loitering crowds, but luckily, Park hailed a different forklift—yet this driver, terror on his face, pretended not to hear and drove on. Park hailed another one, and again, the driver feigned utter concentration on the path to the airplane. “Dak-Ho,” Park yelled after him. “I know that’s you. I know you heard me.”
The Dear Leader laughed. He called to Park, “Try using some sweet talk.”
It was hard to tell the emotion on Commander Park’s face, but when he hailed Comrade Buc, it was with authority, and Ga knew that Buc was the man who would stop.
Not ten meters away, pallet hoisted high, Comrade Buc halted his forklift, and it would be clear to anyone who bothered to look upward that human shapes shifted inside.
Commander Ga moved to the Senator, clapping a hand stiff on his back.
The Senator gave him a hard look.
Ga pointed at Buc’s forklift. “This will be an excellent batch of aid to examine, no?” he asked the Senator. “Much better than the contents of that forklift over there, yes?”
It took the Senator a moment to process this. He pointed to the other forklift and asked the Dear Leader, “Is there some reason you don’t want us to inspect that one?”
The Dear Leader smiled. “Examine any one you like.”
As people began moving toward the forklift the Senator had selected, Brando lifted his nose in the air, and tail wagging, started barking at Comrade Buc’s forklift.
“Never mind,” Ga called to Comrade Buc. “We don’t need you anymore.”
Commander Park cocked his head at the barking dog.
“No, hold on,” Park called to Buc, who stared away in an effort not to be recognized.
Park kneeled down beside the dog and studied it. To Ga, he said, “These animals are supposedly good at detecting things. It’s said their noses have great strength.” He studied the dog’s posture, then Park looked between the dog’s ears and down the length of its nose, where he saw, as if in a gun sight, the barrels on Buc’s forklift. “Hmm,” Commander Park said.
“Commander Park, get over here,” the Dear Leader called. “You’re going to love this.”
Park took another moment to contemplate the situation, then called to Buc, “Don’t you go anywhere.”
The Dear Leader called again. He was laughing.
“Come on, Park,” he said. “We have need of a skill only you can provide.”
Park and Ga walked toward the Dear Leader, Brando bounding at the end of his leash in the other direction.
“They say that canines are particularly vicious animals,” Park said. “What do you think?”
Ga answered, “I think they’re only as dangerous as their owners.”
They approached the forklift where the Dear Leader stood with the Senator and Tommy, Wanda and the Girl Rower now joining them. On the forklift’s pallet were two barrels and a stack of boxes, shrink-wrapped.
“How can I be of service?” Park asked.
“This is perfect,” the Dear Leader laughed. “This is too good to be true. It seems we have a box that needs to be opened.”
Commander Park pulled a box cutter from his pocket.
“What’s so funny?” Tommy asked.
Commander Park ran his razor down the box’s seam.
Park said, “Because I’ve never actually used this thing on a box before.”
The Dear Leader laughed all over again.
Inside the box were bound volumes of the complete works of Kim Jong Il.
The Dear Leader grabbed one, bent its spine open, then breathed deeply of the ink inside.
The Girl Rower removed her sunglasses, her eyes looking deeply sedated. Squinting, she regarded the books, and it was with sudden horror that she recognized them. “No,” she said, looking as if she might be sick.
Tommy pulled the lid off a barrel and scooped up a handful of rice.
“This is short grain,” Tommy said. “Isn’t it Japan that grows short-grain rice, while Korea grows long?”
Wanda adopted Dr. Song’s voice. “North Korean grains are the tallest-statured grains in the world.”
The Dear Leader