Hyejin Kim: Jia: A Novel of North Korea

After several rings, the sound suddenly cut off.

“Wei?”

Through the thin line of the telephone, Jin’s low voice shot into my ear. I couldn’t respond at first, I didn’t know how to explain where I was.

“Hello. Is it Jia?” After a silence, he repeated the question. “Jia, is it you?”

“Jin, please help me.”

“Jesus Christ, Jia! Where are you?” he shouted.

I explained what I could, that I was in the hands of the police, at a station near the Korean-Chinese center.

“Okay. I’ll be there soon. Don’t say anything, okay? I’ll be right there.”

I hung up, they took the phone back, and the man who spoke Korean made a phone call. In Korean, I heard him say, “Right, you guys come here and check her out.” Catching my eyes as they filled with confusion, he spoke to the others in Chinese. Parts of what he said I could understand: “I called them. They’ll come… and figure out whether she’s theirs or not.” He went back to his desk and opened the magazine he had been reading.

I was stunned. He must have called the embassy or some agents from North Korea. I stared at the door; if they got there earlier than Jin, there was no hope. I tried to stay calm and not watch the door, but I couldn’t control my shaking hands.

I shut my eyes tight, regretting my decision to conic to the Korean-Chinese district by myself. Why didn’t I tell Jin first?

At that moment, someone banged on the iron bars of the cell, causing an uproar.

“Jia! Hey! It’s me!” It was Jin, puffing hard in front of me.

I leaped up and grabbed the bars. I could barely open my mouth, but I managed to whisper, “Please, Jin, get me out of here.”

Only the thickness of the bars separated us. He lowered his voice and said, “What are you doing here? Why are you here? ”

He rebuked me. I couldn’t control myself and started sniffling. “I didn’t know this would happen. I’m sorry.”

Through the bars, I clutched at his jacket and pleaded with him. “North Korean investigators are coming. I have to leave before they get here, please.”

He headed to the policemen and bowed to them. They talked for a while and Jin patted one man’s shoulder, smiling, nodding his head on and on. My heart beat loudly, and my eyes returned frantically to the door.

Jin came back with a man wielding a ring of rusty keys. The man searched through them slowly, looking for the right one. I wanted to snatch the keys out of his hands and open the cell door myself.

Standing behind him, Jin said, “Once you’re out, get right in the car, okay? Stay inside, okay?” He stressed each syllable. I could feel his nervousness as well.

Finally I heard the sound of the key turning smoothly. As soon as the policeman opened the door, I jumped out and followed Jin. His car was right in front of the police station, and I rushed in as he ran back into the station in a flurry. I sighed and leaned back in the seat.

At that moment, three men strode brashly into the police station. I couldn’t see their faces very well, but I sensed they must have been the agents the Chinese police had called, and I sank into my seat. Jin came out with flushed cheeks and ran to the car, finding me crouched under the dashboard. Jumping in, he cranked the engine and we sped away.

“Is everything okay?” I asked as I straightened up in the seat.

“It’s okay, let’s just get out of here.”

We turned onto a wider road and right into a traffic jam.

“As you feared, those were the North Koreans. I was just finishing with the policemen when they came in, so I tried to get out quickly.” Holding the wheel, he loosened his necktie. His face was dripping with sweat.

“Why did they let me go?” I asked.

He glanced at me. “I told them you are my ernai. That means my lover. I said I bought you and lost sight of you while we were shopping. They said that when they catch you next time, they’ll send you back right away and arrest me, too.”

I listened in silence; the excuse didn’t matter. I don’t have to go back! Those words spun around my brain. I was sure he must have had to strike a deal with the police.

“And then?” I looked at him.

He whistled shortly and smiled. “Don’t worry. Everything is okay. I showed my appreciation to them.”

Jin’s deep voice pounded through the car. “Why did you go there by yourself? Why didn’t you tell Hyunmi or me? She called me and said you were sick, so I went to the house to check on you. When I found you were gone, I knew something was wrong. If I hadn’t gone back, or picked up the phone, what would you have done?”

He paused, collecting himself. “Whenever you want to go into town, we’ll take you to the Korean-Chinese neighborhoods. But for the time being, it’s not safe for you to go by yourself.”

I wanted to crawl into a mouse hole. I was trouble to Jin, worse than a pet. I sulked. “I just wanted to find my friend,” I said meekly.

He shook his head and stepped on the accelerator. “Oh, Jia, are you out of your mind? You have to take care of yourself first.”

The cars were thinning out. Feeling the air conditioner in the car and watching the scenery go by, I couldn’t believe it was stifling outside. Everything looked so peaceful. The trees looked even fatter than the day I arrived at Jin’s house.

To come so close to losing all this made me shiver with fright.

We passed several small stores and houses, and came upon a crowd of people surrounding some police cars blocking the road.

“What’s going on here?” Jin said, honking the horn. After a moment, he gave up and said, “Let’s see what’s happening.” He pulled over and we walked toward the center of the crowd. I saw five women seated on the ground, weeping. Some women were hugging men; one woman grabbed on to a policeman’s leg. Clicking their tongues and shaking their heads, spectators watched the scene. Some muttered in Korean, “Tsk. That’s too much.”

There was an old man next to me, with three deep wrinkles in his forehead. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

He glanced at me and explained, “The policemen rounded those women up just now. They’re all from North Korea and are married to Korean-Chinese men. The policemen are trying to take them back to North Korea, but they don’t want to leave. That’s why they are crying and begging.”

One woman, pregnant and in tears, nodded to a policeman. The policeman told her husband in Korean that a superior office had given the order and nothing could be done. Other officers smoked at a distance and watched the scene, barely interested.

The old man said, “If their husbands have money, it’ll be fine. There are a lot of North Korean women married to Korean-Chinese men in this village. But those husbands can’t pay the fines—they spent all their money buying their wives.”

Having seen enough, the old man turned to go, talking to himself. “They are not harmful. Why not let them live here?”

The policemen dragged the women away as their husbands looked on, helpless. The pregnant woman’s husband mourned bitterly, slapping the ground.

Jin grabbed my arm and tugged. “Let’s go. This place isn’t safe for you either.” We got in the car, but I couldn’t turn my eyes away.

“The director of the police station said that investigators are getting stricter,” Jin said, watching the police cars speeding in the opposite direction. “It really looks like he wasn’t kidding.”

The rest of the ride was silent. When we arrived back at the house, I was overcome with fatigue. I collapsed on the bed and fell asleep.

That day brought several changes to our life, Jin’s and mine. I asked Hyunmi to teach me Chinese one more hour each day, and I spent hours watching Chinese TV. I practiced my Chinese with Jin daily, despite my embarrassment. He developed a new habit of collecting newspaper clippings related to North Koreans in China.