The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [42]
The Pilot said, “It wasn’t a rogue wave, but the wake from a South Korean container vessel. They nearly swamped us.”
The First Mate said, “Let’s run her aground near Wonsan and swim for it. Then, you know, the Second Mate just didn’t make it. We’ll make for a beach filled with retirees, and there will be plenty of witnesses.”
“There are no retirees,” the Captain said. “It’s just what they tell you to keep you going.”
Jun Do said, “We could go looking for him.”
“Suit yourself,” the Captain said.
Jun Do shielded his eyes and looked again upon the waves. “Do you think he can survive out there? Do you think he can make it?”
The First Mate joined him. “His poor fucking wife.”
“Without either the raft or the man, we’re screwed,” the Captain said. “With both gone, they’ll never believe us.” There were fish scales on the deck, dry and flashing in the light. The Captain ran a couple around with a finger. “If the Junma goes down, and we go down with her,” he said, “the mates’ wives get pensions, the Machinist’s wife gets a pension, the Pilot’s wife gets a pension. They all live.”
“They live with replacement husbands,” the First Mate said. “What about my kids and some stranger raising them?”
“They live,” the Captain said. “They stay out of the camps.”
“The Americans were mad,” Jun Do said. “They came back and they took him.”
“What’s that?” the Captain asked. He shielded his eyes and looked up at Jun Do.
“They wanted revenge,” he said. “And they came back to get the guy that had outfought them. They boarded us again, and they kidnapped the Second Mate.”
The Captain lay back on the deck in a strange position. He looked as if he’d fallen from the rigging and was in that moment where you don’t move, where you’re only trying to assess if anything’s broken. He said, “If Pyongyang really thinks a citizen has been kidnapped by the Americans, they’ll never let up. They’ll ride it forever, and eventually the truth will come to light. Plus, there’s no proof the Americans came back—the only thing that saved us last time was those idiots fooling with the radio.”
From his pocket, Jun Do produced the card that Jervis had left him, embossed with the seal of the U.S. Navy. He gave it to the Captain. “Maybe the Americans wanted Pyongyang to know exactly who had come and kicked some ass. In fact, it was the exact same guys—we all got a good look at them. We could tell almost the same story.”
The Machinist said, “We were longlining when the Americans came aboard. They caught us by surprise. They grabbed the Second Mate and mocked him for a while, and then they threw him to the sharks.”
“Yeah,” the First Mate said. “We threw the raft down to him, but the sharks tore it up with their teeth.”
“Yeah,” the Pilot said. “The Americans just stood there with their guns, laughing while our comrade died.”
The Captain studied the card. He reached for a hand, and they helped him up. There was that wild light in his eyes. “And then one of us,” he said, “without regard for his own safety, jumped into the shark-filled sea to save the Second Mate. This crewman suffered ferocious bite wounds, but he didn’t care because he only thought about saving the Second Mate, a hero of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. But it was too late—half eaten, the Second Mate slipped below the waves. His last words were of praise for the Dear Leader, and it was only in the nick of time that we pulled the other crew member, bleeding and half dead, back aboard the Junma.”
Things suddenly got quiet.
The Captain told the Machinist to start the winch. “We’ll need a fresh shark,” he said.
The Captain came to Jun Do and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him close in a tender way until they were almost forehead to forehead. No one had ever done that to Jun Do before, and it felt like there was no one else in the world. The Captain said, “It’s not just because you’re the one who put all the stupid ideas in the Second Mate’s head. Or that you’re the one with the actress tattooed on your chest