“I made a house call, but now I’m headed back to the salon,” I said.
“I’m headed to work, too.”
Ali got off at Elephant and Castle with me, and we had kebabs at a Turkish restaurant nearby.
I returned home late that night and lay down next to Luna, who was fast asleep — but I kept tossing and turning. I would doze off for a moment, only to jerk awake. My ears hummed with the memory of my grandmother telling me one of her old stories. It was the one about Princess Bari, which she’d shared with me on snowy nights in the dugout hut across the Tumen River.
“Grandma, continue the story,” I said. “You said Princess Bari scrubbed clothes and cooked food and chopped wood and did all kinds of menial labour and travelled all the way to Hell. And she saved the souls who were suffering there and went through Hell herself and came all the way to the western sky.”
“Yes, yes, you remember it well. When she gets to the western sky, she is stopped by a jangseung — the wooden totem pole that stands guard at the border has come to life and is waiting for her. She loses a bet with him, and he recites the deal she must make: three by three is nine. She will have his babies and cook and clean for him for nine long years in exchange for the life-giving water. How do you suppose she met him in the first place? She avoided the blue and yellow paths and stuck to the white path, getting help along the way, but suddenly this giant, black totem pole of a man appears before her. Aigo! Aigo! What is she to do? If she falls into his clutches, all will be lost. She has to be clever and talk her way out.”
“Grandma, did Bari ask the totem pole how to get to the western sky?”
“Yes, yes, and the jangseung tells her: ‘There’s no such place. You have to live with me. My grandfather didn’t marry until the age of ninety-one, as he found no woman before that. I’m lucky to have met you, so now you must live with me.’ Bari keeps talking, trying to distract him as she edges away from him, but he throws her over his shoulder.”
I recited Princess Bari’s lines: “Hey! Put me down! We can walk together.”
“So they begin walking, her in front and him behind. As they walk, he tells her he lives in an earthen cottage with a straw mat for a door. Then he says he lives in a big house with a grand, tiled roof. Finally he says: ‘Forget it, we’ll just live in the first place we see.’ When they find it, it’s more of a shack than a house. The door is just a flimsy straw mat. With the sun shining brightly down on Bari, it seems she will be stuck with him for good once they are married and spend their wedding night together, so she sets out a bowl of clear water in the courtyard, lets down her hair and throws herself on the ground, kicking and keening.”
Then Grandmother mimicked the totem pole’s voice: “Ah! Why are you crying?”
I answered as Princess Bari: “Today is the anniversary of my grandfather’s death.”
“Bari stays up all night mourning. The next day, as evening approaches, she lets down her hair again, draws fresh water from the well and falls to the ground, weeping and wailing.”
“Why are you crying this time?”
My turn again: “Today is the anniversary of my grandmother’s death.”
“On the third night, she mourns again.”
“Why are you crying this time?”
“Today is the anniversary of my father’s death.”
“The next night she flops down and cries again, and he asks her what significance that day has.”
“Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death.”
Grandmother grumbled comically: “ ‘Huh! Did your whole family get the plague? How did they all die one after the other like that?’ Then the fifth night rolls around …”
“Grandma, Princess Bari has to marry the totem now, right? What does she do?”
“Well, first, she pleads with him.”
I continued in Bari’s voice: “I beg you! If you and I are to marry, then we must pray to our ancestors first. But how can we do that in this messy, dusty old house? We’ll hold memorial rites for our ancestors today, and cleanse and purify ourselves for the next three days. After that, we’ll be ready for a proper wedding ceremony. I’ll clean the house and sweep the floor, while you go chop us some firewood.”
“How dare you order me to chop wood?”
“Why aren’t you leaving?”
“I’m afraid you’ll run away.”
Grandmother took over Bari’s part: “ ‘You idiot! How on earth would I get away from you? I can’t go anywhere, so hurry off. I’ll tie this thread around my wrist and give the other end to you … so hurry off now.’ She begins cleaning the house and sweeping the floor. The stupid fool leaves. But he comes rushing back before it’s even lunchtime, looking like he’s fallen and cut and bruised himself along the way.”
“What happened to you?” I asked as Bari. “Did you run into a bear? Did you run into a tiger?”
“No, my A-frame carrier kept tugging me this way and that, and I tripped and fell.”
“Ah, I have to move my hands back and forth to clean the house! What an idiot you are! Don’t tie the thread around your carrier this time. Here, I’ll draw you a picture of me instead. Take it with you and stick it to a tree. If it stays up, that means I’m still here. If it falls down, then it means I’ve run away. Be sure to use lots of glue and stick it on good.”
“So the jangseung takes the picture, and whenever he wants to see his future wife, he looks at it and smiles. He glues it to a pine tree, and it stays in place. Finally he can relax, knowing that she hasn’t run away, and he goes to work chopping firewood.”
“Heaven brings the totem pole and Princess Bari together. Isn’t that right, Grandma? And now they have to have children?”
At some point, while recalling, one by one, the stories my grandmother and I used to recite, I slipped into sleep.
Nine
One day, around the time I’d nearly paid off my smuggling debt — which means I must’ve been working at Tongking for about a year by then — Uncle Tan called me into the hallway at the back of the shop where the toilets were. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but the grim look on his face made my heart race.
“Have you heard?” he asked. “There’s going to be a crackdown this week.”
“What kind of crackdown?”
“You don’t have a visa or a work permit, do you?”
I looked down and thought about his question. Uncle Lou must have told him my story.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to fire you. The problem is that if we get caught, the worst that will happen to me is I’ll be fined two thousand pounds and could lose my business licence, but you’ll go to jail and get deported.”
Vinh, the Vietnamese girl who lived in a government-subsidized flat nearby, had gone home the night before to find that a joint squad of local police and UK Border Agency officers had arrived in several vans and were blocking the entrance to the apartment building. They searched door to door and took away a dozen illegal immigrants. Uncle Tan pulled some cash from his pocket and tried to hand it to me.
“I called up some friends,” he said. “They said it looks like the shops in this area will be inspected this week. I need you to lie low until things have settled down. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of weeks.”
I bowed several times and said: “Thank you for warning me. And I don’t need your money. I didn’t earn it.”
“Take it. You can pay me back later.”
“As long as you’ll hire me back, I’m really okay.”