Martin Limon - Buddha's money

Where three alleys converged, a huge puddle blocked most of the intersection. Herman plowed into it like a water buffalo charging a river. He sloshed forward a few steps, stumbled, and fell face forward. Slicky Girl Nam splashed in after him and leapt on his back like an enraged she-leopard. She clawed at his neck and they both twisted and growled and collapsed into the muddy pond.

Herman rose first, filthy rainwater sputtering off his lips. He punched Slicky Girl Nam in the nose and she slammed straight back into the puddle.

By now, Korean National Policemen had emerged from all the alleys. The slicky boys stood in the pathways above us, arms crossed, silent, observing. Herman pulled out Ernie's. 45 and waved it in the air.

"Back off!" he shouted.

All the policemen leveled their M-l rifles at him.

"Drop it, Herman!" I shouted, but I don't think he heard me. Instead, gripping the butt of the pistol in his two big fists, he crouched and pointed it directly at one of the policemen.

A shot rang out. Herman's bowling-ball body lurched forward. Blood blossomed between his shoulder blades. He swiveled, raising the pistol, and this time a volley of rifle shots whistled through the rain like wasps.

Herman jerked like a stung bear. Crimson gore gushed from five spots. He dropped the. 45, stared up into space, and performed a graceful pirouette.

Slicky Girl Nam held up her hands but it did no good. Herman's body crashed down on top of her.

Ernie and I splashed forward. We rolled Herman off of Slicky Girl Nam and helped her to her feet. I knelt, probed my fingers into Herman's neck. No pulse.

Nothing.

Captain Kim barked crisp orders. Policemen approached. Four of them hoisted Herman's fat body into the air and carted it off through the muddy alleys.

Ernie gazed after them. When he finally spoke, there was awe in his voice. "Don't ever point your pistol at a Korean National Policeman," he said.

Slicky Girl Nam was shaking. She shrugged off my hand and marched over to the first policeman who had shot Herman. He noticed her standing in front of him with her feet spread and glanced down at her. She spoke first.

"Ku namja na ui nampyon ikun!" That man was my husband!

She'd been about to kill Herman herself, and now she was pissed because somebody else had done the job for her.

No emotion showed on the policeman's face.

Without warning, Slicky Girl Nam swung her small fist and smacked the KNP on the side of the head. The cop raised his rifle to ward her off but she kept coming, scratching and kicking and spitting.

Other policemen rushed over to help. Slicky Girl Nam smacked them, too.

Finally, they wrestled her to the ground.

A red-faced Gaptain Kim didn't hesitate when he shouted his commands. The policemen hoisted Slicky Girl Nam into the air, as they had done the corpse of her husband, and carted her off, too.

With muddy fingers, Ernie unwrapped a new stick of gum, popped it into his mouth, and started chomping. "Hate to see a family destroyed like that," he said.

Blood swirled in the puddle around our feet.

"You're developing a conscience," I told him.

Ernie seemed amazed. "Me? No way."

We tromped back through the rain to the Itaewon Police Station.

The doctors at the 121 evacuation hospital cut off lady Ahn's leg. Just below the knee.

When she was released, Ernie and I carried her out to our new jeep and drove her all the way down south to the ferry at Ok-dong. Ernie said his good-byes and strolled away so we could be alone. I helped her to the loading ramp. She had one crutch and was becoming pretty skillful with it. She kept slapping my hand away.

"I will do it myself," she said.

Before she boarded the ferry, I told her that I wanted to see her again.

"Why?"

"You should know," I said.

"Because you love me?"

"Because I'm starting to."

"Then stop," she said.

Normally, I wouldn't have argued. My pride would've stood in the way. But this time pride didn't seem to matter. It didn't matter at all.

"Why?" I asked. "You know that we're made for each other. You're too independent for most Korean men. We could go together back to the States. You could be anything you wanted to be there. You could become someone important."

"I am someone important."

Heat swept over my face. "Yes. Of course you are."

"Don't forget that/' she said. "And that's why I won't marry you."

"Because you're someone important?"

"Yes. And because I am royal."

I spread my hands. 'Tour family was royal at one time. Not anymore."

Her eyes shot bolts of anger into mine. "We are still royal. And that's why I can't marry you. It would defile my blood."

I thought of more words to say. A lot of them. But all of them were stopped by the knot in my throat. She had decided that she wouldn't stoop so low. Not as low as a GI. Not as low as me.

I envied her such arrogance. Life had punched mine out of me years ago. But she would need hers. I hoped it helped her as much as that crutch did.

I decided to settle for what I could get.

"If you ever come to Seoul, will you visit me?"

"No. I will never see you again, George Sueno."

She turned and hobbled up the loading ramp.

I stood and watched the ferry for a long time. Even as it pulled away, she didn't appear on deck.

When we drove off, Ernie didn't say anything. For the entire drive back, he didn't even click his gum.

When we arrived back in Seoul, we didn't bother going to the compound. Instead, we parked the jeep in Itaewon and slipped into the nearest barroom.

Like a pharmacist administering a drug, Ernie purchased a double shot of bourbon at the bar and set it on the table in front of me.

"You'll feel better after this," he said.

I jolted it back. Then I had another. Still, I didn't feel better.

"She'll change her mind," I said.

Ernie shook his head. "Don't count on it."

"There's got to be a way." Finally, it hit me. I clutched Ernie's forearm. "I didn't tell her about the jade skull."

Ernie blew breath between his lips. "So you figure that if we find the skull you can get her back?"

"Sure, I can."

"But for how long?" Ernie asked.

We let that question hang. I had a couple more shots.

After a while, we were reeling from bar to bar. Making a night of it. It was in the King Club that we saw her.

She was small, almost tiny compared to the business girls who surrounded her. She wore a blue cotton skirt that stopped just above her knees and a red-and-white polka-dot blouse. Atop her head, pulled down until it almost covered her ears, was a bright red cap with a fuzzy white tassel on the top.

When she approached us, Ernie waved her off perfunctorily but I grabbed his hand and made him look again.

Round balls of rouge exploded off the woman's cheeks. She smiled bravely but it seemed as if she was about to break down in tears.

We both recognized her at the same time: Choi So-lan. The Buddhist nun.

"What the hell happened to you?" Ernie hollered.

Her face fell. She covered her mouth with both hands, turned, and ran off toward the back of the King Club.

"What the hell did you say that for?" I yelled to Ernie.

Ernie could only point and sputter. "That was the little nun!"

"I can see that. Apparently, she's quit her job and now she's in Itaewon, looking for you. And you treat her like she's some sort of freak."

"She is! With that makeup and those clothes. She looks like a clown."

"So she's not up on the latest fashions. She'll catch up."

Ernie and I gulped down our drinks and walked over to the back hallway and convinced one of the business girls to go into the women's latrine and ask the nun to come out. About five minutes later she emerged, her face pink from crying.