Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

“What’re you going to do when you go home and get discharged?”

“Well, first I guess I’ll ride my motorcycle as much as I want. Then I’ll make some money.”

“Can you get out of here on off-duty days?”

“Not easy to go all the way downtown. Just outside the camp around here, sometimes.”

“Good, let’s go to China Beach sometime.”

“Sure, easy to get there.”

“Leon, you got any fruit salad in here? My boss is crazy about that junk. First thing he eats in the morning. So I came over to see if I could get some.”

The corporal quickly got up, saying, “Come with me, I’ll give you a couple of boxes.”

Two boxes would mean twenty-four cans. Leon walked through the maze of the warehouse until he reached a certain spot where he started lifting cartons to check their labels. The whole area was filled with cartons of various canned fruits. He lifted up one box and put it on his shoulder, pointing with his finger at another.

“There, take that one yourself.”

They each brought out a box and set them down on the desk at the entrance. Yong Kyu took out a ten-dollar military certificate and held it out to Leon, who looked confused.

“What’s this?”

“Don’t you recognize it? It’s money. I don’t have anything in exchange this time. Just take it.”

“That’s a ten, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, be a big spender when you go out on R & R.”

“Want some more fruit salad?”

“No, this is enough. By the way, how about coming downtown with me next weekend?”

“Downtown is off-limits for us. We get stopped at the checkpoint on the outskirts of the city.”

“That’s OK, I’ll come and pick you up. You just get a leave pass.”

Leon whistled again. “That’s great. Downtown, huh? Who the hell are you anyway?”

“I’m Westy’s old man.”

The corporal cackled until his faced turned red. Yong Kyu, the father of the commander of the American forces. Yong Kyu loaded the boxes on the truck and the driver drove out from the Turen supply warehouse. The driver laughed and said the whole thing seemed absurd.

“And for just this, two measly boxes, you asked for a truck to come all the way here?”

“I was just dipping a toe in. Let me cover your pocket money for today.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Yong Kyu had the truck stop in front of the Bamboo Club. He unloaded the boxes and left them with a vendor on the street. He said to the driver, “Tell Sergeant Yun I said thanks. I’ll be dropping by next week.”

It happened to be lunch hour and inside the Bamboo he found Vietnamese civilians sitting around sipping drinks. They appeared to be merchants or bureaucrats. During the day the patrons were mostly Vietnamese, but at night it was mostly Western soldiers. Toi was at a table in the corner. Sitting beside him was an oily-haired middle-aged man in a white shirt.

“Did you cut a deal?” asked Toi.

“Who’s this?” Yong Kyu asked, glancing at the other man.

“Major Pham sent him. I met him for the first time today.”

“He promised to meet me when he gets leave Saturday.”

Toi nodded. “Then we should have the goods in our hands by sometime next week.”

When Toi said something in Vietnamese to the middle-aged man, the latter bowed slightly.

“Do you speak English?” Yong Kyu asked him.

“Very little. A few words for business,” the man mumbled with a thick guttural accent.

“If Major Pham sent him, he must be in on the dealing channels on their side. . do you know anything about this man?”

“No, not yet. Perhaps within three days I’ll be able to tell you about his cousins’ cousins. I talked with him a little before you came in, and it seems he’s got channels to the town merchants throughout the central region, including Quang Tri, Hue, Bien Hien, Hoi An and as far south as Quang Ngai. I’d say you could count the men in Da Nang with his kind of trading network on your two hands. Looks like he’s been doing business with the provincial government for a very long time.”

“Ask him if he owns a store.”

“A merchant like him wouldn’t bother with retail selling. He probably has warehouses and vehicles.”

Toi asked the man something, then interpreted the reply for Yong Kyu.

“He has eight big transport trucks. As for warehouses, he has two small ones in the Le Loi market and a bigger warehouse across the river.”

“Good. Can he rent a store in Le Loi market we can use?”

“He says we can share his younger brother’s office. Of course, we should pay a little as rent.”

“What kinds of things does he need?”

Once again Toi did not relay the question and instead looked scornfully at Yong Kyu.

“Confident, are you? So, you planning to empty all of Turen yourself? This man wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the order from Pham Quyen, and I can tell he doesn’t have a very high opinion of us.”

“Ask him anyway.”

Toi asked the man, who looked at his watch and then curtly mumbled something.

“He says demand for salad dressing is pretty high right now.”

“I see. If he wants, I can deliver the goods this time on Monday. Price?”

“Instead of talking price, isn’t it more urgent to settle the delivery procedures and the method of sale? The price can be negotiated at a suitable amount when the market is checked.”

Toi had a point. Yong Kyu sunk back into his chair.

“You’re right. I don’t now. Discuss it with him your way.”

Toi spoke with the middle-aged man in Vietnamese. “Have you done many deals with Major Pham?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see what that has to do with what we’re doing here.”

“My friend here says he’ll bring the salad dressing you want this time next Monday. How do you want to handle it?”

“What’s the quantity, exactly?”

“Well. . about one truckload.”

“If it’s only a single truck, then it won’t be more than two pallets. Ordinarily a pallet is twenty cartons, so it’ll be forty boxes altogether. But in case of cans, it may be different. Twelve cans make one box, and the total quantity is less. Anyway, for that amount we won’t need a full container, a conex box will be fine and down at the pier terminal there are plenty that belong to the provincial administration. We’ll give you a number and a key and you’ll deliver the goods down there. Be sure not to forget the key. When we pay you for the goods, you just hand over the key to us. That’s all.”

“You said you have your own warehouse, so why ask us to deliver the goods to storage?”

“Depending on the market situation, the goods might go to our warehouse or end up across the river. But deals of this kind are generally done with keys and drops. In case we want to resell to another party, we can just leave the goods in the conex box for them to pick up.”

“We haven’t settled on a price.”

“It fluctuates quite a bit. In a business like this we have to trust each other. A dealing line is like a lifeline we both are holding onto. The going rate for salad oil has been around 2300 piasters for a large box and 1900 for a small one.”

“Can you pay in dollars?”

“You mean hard cash?”

“No, military dollars will do.”

“We can pay however our partner wants. But if you ask for military currency, there’s a service commission of 20 percent. Stateside cash would cost up to 30 percent. So if payment is in military currency, the large boxes will be eighteen dollars and fifteen for the small. Depending on what the seller wants, in some cases we can also pay in gold, in money orders, or in the currency of a third country.”

“So, you’re in the money-changing business too?”