“I hit her first. But the little bitch kept struggling.” He pouted and looked at his fleshy underarm. “She bit me. So I held her.”
“By the throat?”
“Yeah. And when I finished, she wasn’t moving anymore. There was nothing I could do for her.”
The River Rat got up and started to flutter around in little circles, like a wounded bird with one good leg. She mumbled some more and made squeaking noises.
Bogard spoke to her tenderly. “Shut the fuck up.”
She shut up.
“Finish your soju,” I said. “Then you’re coming with us.”
Bogard let out a chortling laugh that seemed to cause his shoulders to bounce. He raised the half-empty soju bottle to his mouth and took huge, breathless gulps. The level of the clear, fiery liquid fell straight down into his gullet.
He burped and handed the empty bottle to the River Rat. She took it as if it were a great gift and carried it with two hands to deposit it in a safe place.
“I ain’t going,” Bogard said.
Ernie stood away from the fence and jammed his hands further into the pockets of his jacket.
“Think for a minute, Bogard,” I said. “You’ve got no place to go. You can’t leave the country. You have no income, except for dealing a little drugs or whatever. You can’t stay here and you can’t get away.” He just looked at me, amused. “The last GI convicted of murder here in Korea got four years.” I waited for that to sink in. “After he finished the time they sent him back to the States. No sense making it harder on yourself. Come with me, and we’ll get this shit over with.”
The River Rat came back into the courtyard, stopped, and stood stock still for a moment. She started flitting back and forth again, humming and talking to herself, walking amongst us on imaginary errands, a gracious hostess serving her guests.
Bogard bared his block-like teeth. “I ain’t going,” he said. “And it’s going to take more than you two guys to bring me in.”
Ernie took his hands out of his pockets and stepped away from the wall. I reached behind my back and pulled out my handcuffs. Bogard stood up, his feet shoulder-width apart, still smiling, and put his drainage pipe arms out slightly as if he were ready to embrace us.
I took a step toward him. He crouched, and I stopped. He would pulverize me. And once I got in close, Ernie would be unable to use the.45.
Ernie pulled the big pistol out of his shoulder holster, slid back the charging handle, and shot Bogard in the leg. The River Rat screamed. Bogard doubled over, grabbed his leg, and bellowed like a wounded bear. I moved forward and snapped one of the cuffs around his huge wrist. When he realized what I was doing, he let go of his leg and swung an enormous paw at me. I went down. The River Rat jumped on Ernie; screaming and clawing at his face like a wildcat tearing the bark off a tree.
Bogard hopped on his good leg toward Ernie, his enormous girth rising and falling thunderously with each hop. I jumped up, ran at him, and rammed my shoulder into the green expanse of his side.
The foot of his wounded leg hit the ground, he screamed, and we all slammed to the ground in a huge pile. Things crunched. I rolled to my side, groped for the cuffs, and managed to get both of Bogard’s hands shackled before he could recover from the pain.
Ernie hopped up and held the gun on him. Bogard rolled on the ground, his big, square teeth clenched in pain. The River Rat didn’t move.
I checked her out. Her breathing was shallow. I left Ernie in the hooch and walked carefully along the lace covering of newly fallen snow to the main road. I trotted a few clubs down to an MP jeep and had them radio for an ambulance. They followed me to the mouth of the alley so they could guide the medics to the hooch.
When I returned, a few of the neighbors stood around outside talking amongst themselves. Ernie sat on the porch, hunched over, holding the.45 loosely in his hands. Bogard was still on the ground but sitting up now, slowly trying to shake the fresh snowflakes off his massive head. He clutched the upper part of his thigh, but a puddle of blood continued to grow beneath him. The River Rat hadn’t moved.
The medics brought a stretcher. Cursing and howling, Bogard managed to roll up onto it. It took four of us to carry him out of the hooch, down the alley, and then hoist him up into the ambulance. One medic stayed in the back with him, the other was about to climb into the cab.
“What about the girl?” I asked.
“Can’t do nothing for her,” he said. “You know that.”
“You can treat civilians when it’s an emergency.”
“Only on the compound.” He closed the door and started up the engine. Ernie climbed into the back of the MP jeep. I told him to wait, and I trotted back down the alley to the hooch.
The River Rat still lay on the ground, unmoving, and a few of the neighbors had wandered inside. I checked her pulse. Faint. She was becoming pale.
I talked to one of the old women. She told me that the hooch’s owner had been notified and was on her way. In Korea, going to a hospital requires front money, in cash, and I didn’t have much. The MP jeep honked its horn. I ran back down the alley, got in the jeep, and we spun our tires all the way back to Camp Pelham.
Bogard was all right. The bone had been broken, but not shattered, and the chopper came and took him to the army hospital in Seoul.
Ernie and I spent some extra time on the paperwork. The shooting meant that if it wasn’t done right, it would be our ass.
The MPs at Camp Pelham treated us like heroes, slapping us on the back and congratulating us. They were glad to have Bogard out of their village.
It was well past curfew, but I managed to convince the desk sergeant to give me a jeep. At the main gate the guard came out in the snow and rolled back the fence for me, just wide enough for the vehicle to squeeze through.
The village of Sonyu-ri was completely dark. Not even the glimmer of stray light from behind shuttered windows was visible to mar the beauty of the moon-cast glow on the white shrouded street. The road was slippery, and I drove slowly.
I parked the jeep, locked the security chain around the steering wheel, and felt my way down the pitch black alley. The stench from the river seemed lessened now, and the murky waters lapped peacefully against the glistening mud of the shore.
The gate was open. Inside, the moonlight shone down on the unsullied snow, and the River Rat lay on the ground where I had left her. I brushed the frozen lace from her hair and pressed my fingers into the base of her neck.
I waited a long time. When I got up, I brushed the snow from my knees and walked away from the unblinking eyes that followed me.
THE BLACK MARKET DETAIL
A full-length dress clung to the soft, round parts of her short body like cellophane on a peach.
“Looks like we’ve found our culprit,” Ernie said.
We’d been sitting in the parking lot of the Yongsan Commissary for about thirty minutes, sipping acidic coffee, watching the housewives parade in and out, trying to decide which one to pinch for black-market activities. None of them had been good-looking enough. Until now. She pushed her overflowing shopping cart toward the taxi stand and smiled at the bright spring day. A voluptuous Oriental doll come to life.
“Instant coffee, strawberry jam, a case of oranges, about twenty pounds of bananas. Is she black marketing or what?”
“Either that or she owns a pet gorilla.”
The bag boy helped load her booty into the trunk of the big PX taxi. The driver closed the door for her after she climbed in the back seat, ran around, and started the engine.
Ernie tossed his Styrofoam cup onto the pavement and choked the old motor pool Jeep to life. He slammed the gear shift into low, we jerked forward, and I barely managed to keep what was left of my coffee from splashing all over the front of my coat and tie.