It was a good punch. Even then-at the tender age of ten-I was strong. His right knee buckled and the other punks laughed and this enraged him. Although I fought back for the first few seconds, he was five or six years older than me and in the end he pulverized me good. When he was through, he kneeled over me to see if I was breathing; I was. He punched me one more time, on the side of the head, hard, and then rose to his feet, dusting off his loose khaki trousers, turned and strutted away. He could’ve killed me but he didn’t.
Kids were decent back then.
The Tongduchon City Market, partially lit by overhead fluorescent bulbs, was deserted. Wooden stands stood empty, some of them folded and laying on the ground. Canvas roofing vibrated from the steady susurration of sweet rain. The air smelled of green onions and fish, overlaid with a hint of rust. I wandered through the stalls, meandering, heading for a blue light that glowed at the far end.
Brandy’s note said that whoever wanted to talk to us would meet us here at eleven this evening. I had come early because I had nowhere else to go. Besides, I wanted to survey the meeting place. Make sure it was safe. Make sure there were no boulders waiting to fall on us or trapdoors ready to open and swallow us whole.
Within the blue glow, shadows shuffled. When I stepped closer, I could see that the blue and now greenish glow came from enormous tanks of live fish. Various-sized creatures wriggled and squirmed through the murky blue waters. More tanks were propped on tables, arranged at odd angles. Was this fish heaven? It looked more like fish hell to me.
The shadows I’d seen in front of the tanks were a Korean woman and her three children. I greeted the woman. “Anyonghaseiyo,” I said.
She stared at me, wide-eyed. I explained that I was here sheltering from the rain and that later I would meet a friend. Korea is a trusting society. She nodded and proceeded to fuss with her children.
The toddler waddled toward me, holding a red rubber ball that was almost as big as his head. He smiled and let go of the ball, thinking he was throwing it to me. Instead, the ball fell to the ground, bounced once, and rolled listlessly in my direction. I stooped, picked up the ball, and bounced it gently back to him. The toddler squealed with glee and chased the ball, which had somehow managed to slip past him.
The little family’s living quarters consisted of sleeping cots and a small hot plate that held a brass bowl of steaming rice. They lived here. For economic reasons, undoubtedly. Probably also to protect their fish. Where was her husband? I asked. She told me. He was a fisherman and once she had sold their share of the fish, she would return to her village on the shores of the Yellow Sea. Why come all this way? To avoid the middlemen. To pull down a larger share of the profit.
I would’ve liked to have asked her more questions, to pry into her personal affairs. Because I’m curious about things. And I’m especially curious about people who are different. Ernie tells me I’m nuts. Still, I would’ve liked to have talked to this woman, to find out more about her life. But there was no excuse. I wasn’t a reporter and she wasn’t under criminal investigation, so I continued my stroll through the market.
After a few yards, I reached the noodle stands, the same spot where Ernie and I’d eaten lunch just the day before yesterday. The stands were deserted now. No loose pots and pans sitting on the stoves, all bowls and chopsticks and bottles of soy sauce and vinegar locked up in wooden cabinets. Not so much as a napkin left unguarded.
Toward the back of the dining area, shadows ruled. The only illumination to reach this area came from the blue glow of the fish tanks. I found an unvarnished wooden table with folding legs, unlatched the legs, folded them, and lay the table flat on the ground. No sense returning to the yoguan. Who knew how long Brandy and Ernie would be at it. Ernie knew we had to rendezvous here at the Tongduchon City Market at eleven p.m. He’d show up. Probably, so would Brandy.
I lay atop the table. The surface was splintered and unyielding, yet it felt wonderfully comfortable. Better even than the cement floor of a KNP interrogation room. With the soft blue glow of fish heaven in my face, I closed my eyes and, almost instantly, I was asleep.
The first thing I heard was a scream. A woman’s scream.
And after the scream, a crash. Then the even higher pitched shrieks of children. Terrified children. And water. Water crashing like a wave. In less than a second, I was on my feet, reaching for the. 45 in my shoulder holster.
Gunshots rang out. My military training took over and I leaped to the ground. Face first. When I looked up I realized that the blue glow of fish heaven was much weaker than I remembered. Across the vast cement floor, a sea of liquid spread toward me, an expanding tsunami less than two inches high. By a trick of light the liquid appeared violet and for a moment I thought it was blood. But then I stood and the light changed and the liquid became blue again; at least one of the huge fish tanks had been smashed to smithereens.
Another gunshot rang out. Closer this time. Children screamed and a mother’s voice tried to hush them. A bare bulb hanging from the rafters above was still intact and by its glow, I saw a man crouching in water amidst flopping mackerel and crustaceans and squid. He held an automatic pistol pointed straight out in front of him and seemed to be aiming and then, squeezing with his entire fist, he popped off a round.
“Ernie,” I hissed. “It’s me.”
He swiveled, pointing the gun at me, and I stood perfectly still for a moment. He lowered the gun.
“Where the hell you been?”
“Here.” I jerked my free thumb over my shoulder.
“Get down. Some sort of high-power weapon out there. Probably a rifle.”
I low-crawled through wriggling sardines until I crouched next to Ernie, behind a short pyramid of cement blocks that had recently supported a fish tank.
“Where’s Brandy?” I asked.
“Back at the yoguan,” Ernie replied. “Said she was too tired. When I entered the market there didn’t seem to be anybody behind me. I found this woman and her kids and I tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t understand English. One of her kids bounced his rubber ball at me and when I stooped to pick it up the entire goddamned fish tank exploded.”
“Could’ve been your head,” I told him.
“Thanks. You see anything out there?”
We both peered over the edge of the cement-block foundation down the long corridor that led past the empty produce market and, after about twenty meters, onto the streets of Tongduchon.
I cursed myself for not anticipating this. A guy sends us a note and sets up the rendezvous for an isolated area with plenty of space like fish heaven, with darkness on the outside and light on the inside so he can see us but we can’t see him. When Ernie walks into the market, the guy takes up a position behind the shrubbery outside and doesn’t fire right away because he’s wondering where Ernie’s partner is. When he figures I’m not coming, he decides to take Ernie out. And he would have, too, if Ernie hadn’t leaned down to pick up that little rubber ball.
Did Brandy have anything to do with this? She’d gone to extraordinary efforts to contact Staff Sergeant Riley and then us. And she’d been particularly nice to Ernie. But when the moment of truth came, she had decided not to accompany him to fish heaven. Something told me that if we returned to the yoguan, Brandy would be long gone.
How much had she been paid to set this up? Or had she been coerced? Either way, I would love to have a chat with her.
A whistle shrilled.
“The KNPs,” Ernie said.
“No way,” I said. “If they take us into custody for questioning again, we won’t be getting out anytime soon.”
Ernie backed away from the cement blocks. “Come on.”
I followed.
On the way I nodded good-bye to the female fishmonger and her children huddled protectively beneath her arms. “Mianhamnida,” I said. I’m sorry. She stared after me, eyes wide with fright.