As Kim went out, he locked the gate of the courtyard from the outside. Joe at once grew nervous.
He leaned his suitcase against the wall, sat down, leaned his back on the suitcase, and from that spot observed the local man sitting opposite. He was a little weary, and his eyes soon grew dim. In a drowsy state he saw the man slowly stand up and move as if he were swimming in front of him, holding a bunch of poppies in his hand. The man was just opening his mouth when there was a confused sound at the courtyard gate. A terrified expression appeared in his eyes, and he threw the flowers to the ground. He seemed dejected. He put a hand into his clothing and felt around, as if he were stroking the painful region of his heart. Joe kept a concerned eye on him.
He stood in front of Joe, watching the wall beyond Joe as if absorbed in his thoughts. Joe looked up at him from below, curious about the hand always fumbling in his clothing. That weathered hand was very focused, but also a little hesitating. It seemed he was exploring a method to dig out his own heart. Joe waited.
“Oh, oh!” he said. He drew out a coldly glittering dagger from his chest.
Joe stared.
The man tested the knife point with his thumb, then squatted down, looking into Joe’s eyes as if seeking his opinion. Joe felt a numbing chill in his neck. He involuntarily nodded his head. His last thought was: Why do people who smoke opium also have murderous impulses? But his judgment was mistaken. The man threw away the knife, stood up, and left him.
Joe fixed his eyes on the blood on the floor. Was it his blood? He touched his neck; it was fine. So it must be that local man’s blood. Joe picked up the dagger from the ground and looked it up and down, yet did not discover any blood on the knife. Someone above him was speaking.
“This kind of bleeding is unconscious.”
It was the man named Kim, who’d come back in. Joe saw that the courtyard gate was wide open and there was a rush of people outside. They all peered in, but why didn’t they enter?
“Let me look at the knife,” said the man named Kim.
He accepted the knife, pointed it to the heart in his chest and pushed it in. Then he knelt down, motioning to Joe with his eyes, asking him to help pull out the knife.
Joe’s hands shook severely, but once he held the knife fast he immediately gained strength. He grasped the knife handle, agitated it a bit, then pulled the knife out. Kim looked gratefully at Joe. Blood gushed from the wound, but stopped in a short while. He covered the wound with his clothing. A row started outside the gate.
“This poppy garden is where our ancestors dreamed. People today, even though they smoke opium, cannot enter that territory. Someone who has the wrong intentions, like me, tries to achieve that end by slaughter, but blood cannot conquer those noble hearts. The result is predestined.”
Joe saw Kim’s face become extraordinarily white and fill with deep pain. He grabbed the yellow mud wall that circled the courtyard as hard as he could. Clay lumps fell in pieces to the foot of the wall. The row grew louder, as if the people all wanted to come in, but something blocked them. What was it?
“Where did the man go who was just here?” Joe asked.
“He’s a fearless bastard. I’ve seen him swallow a knife with my own eyes. But even that is a futile effort. For many months he’s stayed inside this poppy garden. According to him, no one comes out to drive him away, but no one admits him either. Opium’s effect is mysterious. He draws support from it to survive these days of despair.”
“What does he want to do inside the garden? Or is he waiting for something to come out?”
“No, it’s not that. He only wants to become a worker in the poppy garden. This way the source of opium won’t be a problem for him. His lazing around here will become an accomplished fact. How shameful!”
Joe could now carefully size up Kim. This Kim and the pasture owner Kim bore no resemblance to each other. The pasture owner had a northerner’s imposing high-bridged nose, and this one had a flat face, roughly drawn. His nose was only two holes. But why was their speech so similar? They spoke like twins, and even their gestures were exactly the same. Joe remembered the Korean Kim who lived halfway up a mountain and a warm emotion sprung up in his heart. Because of his fond memory, he clung to this flat-featured Kim in front of him. He wanted to spill out words from his heart.
An old man was pushed into the courtyard by the clamoring people outside the gate. He was blind and wore dark glasses, and he carried a walking cane. He appeared very timid, taking great caution in touching the cane to the ground.
“The rays of light from the snowcapped mountains stabbed him blind.” Kim’s voice was dry.
“Does he also smoke opium?”
“Of course. If he didn’t, how would he dare enter the courtyard?”
The wind sent the odor of the old man’s body over. It was a dizzying, evil stench. He shuffled to the extreme end of the courtyard’s circling wall. His gait looked like he might collapse and tumble to the ground at any moment.
The old man sat at the base of the wall. His feet showed from inside his robe. One was a fake foot made of wood. He took off his sunglasses, and Joe saw two deep eye sockets.
“Why doesn’t he stay here with us?” Joe asked.
“This man loves cleanliness. He fears even a touch of foul odor on his body. Just now when he entered, he probably smelled a stranger in the courtyard — you came from far away, and you haven’t show-ered — so he skirted us and walked over to that side. This old man is known for keeping himself clean and out of the muck. Look, one leaves and another enters.” He meant the man who’d just left, and the old man who’d arrived.
Joe listened and nodded, and all at once began to feel himself inferior. He wanted to ask Kim if he could help him get opium. Then he felt it wasn’t a suitable occasion for this question, because he was an outsider.
“I’m afraid the old man won’t leave now. In that case, you’d better leave for a while. He can’t stand you. Look how impatient he is, he’s digging holes in the ground with his cane. He wants to monopolize the poppy garden. That way he can return to the beautiful scenery of the snowcapped mountains.”
“Beautiful scenery of the snowcapped mountains? Weren’t his eyes blinded by light from the mountains?”
“Yes and no. How can I put it? He reached a place where ice and snow were everywhere, and the landscape made him go mad. In order to forever keep that landscape in his mind, he blinded himself. Of course, I’m not sure if his mind is actually filled now with the light of those snowy mountains. Or if it’s a stretch of pitch darkness. See how much he’s suffering? It’s because we are here. We should go.”
Kim lifted Joe’s suitcase without explaining further and walked outside.
One by one the people blocking the door gave way to Joe and Kim. A few of them lay down on the ground in fright. What were they afraid of? They lay prone on the ground and covered their faces with their hands.
“Do you like the women here?”
They stopped at the doorway of a bar, where Kim asked this question.
“I don’t know. I haven’t examined them. And I’m dirty, it’s no time to think about that kind of thing.” Joe felt himself speaking without logic. He didn’t even know what he was saying.
“How can you be dirty? Didn’t you just shower at the poppy gardens?”
Joe didn’t understand. He raised his head and saw the signboard for the bar. He didn’t recognize the blood-red script, but he felt that the red color was like a false display of power.
“Why is it so red?” He unconsciously spoke aloud.
“Hmm.”
They went in. There was no one inside.
They had just sat down when they heard a hair-raising, bone-chilling scream from the inner room, followed by restrained weeping. It was a woman.