Hwang Sok-Yong - The Guest

Ah, Comrade An, the reason we asked you to come by is none other than this: we were wondering if you would care to be in charge of the Christian League in Sinch’ŏn County.

Our church considered the Christian League, an organization established by the state, to be a bunch of heretics, just like the shrine worshipers during the Japanese occupation. I told the clerk exactly that.

We churchgoers consider members of the Christian League to be heretics, sir.

There’s a war going on right now for the liberation of our nation. The churchgoers, too, ought to stand on the side of the People, don’t you agree? What I mean is that you ought to believe in the God of Chosŏn, not the God of America.

I will give your offer some thought.

This position has been offered to you because you come so highly recommended from above for your earnestness and good nature. Think it over carefully.

Without actually giving them a yes or a no, I sat quietly for a while. Later, as I made my way out of the county hall, someone ran out after me. I couldn’t place him right away, but his face was very familiar.

Sŏngman, it’s me. It’s Sunnam.

Delighted, he grabbed hold of my hands. Finally, I recognized him in spite of his changed appearance and shook his hand in return, overjoyed to see him again.

How long has it been? What’s brought you here?

I told him the story about the League. He nodded.

First the country was divided; now the church is split in two as well. Anyway, do think it over carefully. Most of the reactionaries have left for the South, but there are still law-abiding Christians living among us in the People’s Republic. Somebody has to protect their interests, don’t you think?

I just listened to him. He continued.

Seoul was reclaimed the day before yesterday. Now that unification is right under our noses, we need people like you to help us transform the church into a national institution.

I went straight home after we parted ways, but my mind was so troubled that I couldn’t get any sleep. I spent the night out in the front yard, praying out loud until dawn. Then, the following morning, I went back into town and found Sunnam. I agreed to accept the position as a committee member. The commissioner at the time was Reverend Kim Iktong of the Sinch’ŏn Church, the same man who’d organized the Christian People’s General Rally and been branded a heretic by our church. There really wasn’t much for the committee to do — our job was to meet once a week in a conference room that took up a corner of the Party Office and discuss religious matters or speak with Christians who’d been sent to us by the Party.

It was completely by chance that I happened to be there when Cho Sangho was brought in. Another presbyter among the committee members happened to mention the fact that Presbyter Cho’s eldest son had been arrested. Having no idea that he was a close friend of Yohan, I went looking for Sangho with the vague hope that he might have some news about our family — his father had been Christian for a very long time and was close with my sister’s father-in-law. When I entered the police station, everyone was quite friendly; they all knew me by then. When I said that I wanted to see Cho Sangho, however, the officer in charge frowned.

Oh, that little shit’s a real problem.

Well, I don’t know about that. Just because he’s Christian and so has a different ideology hardly makes him a problem.

At that, the officer shook his head.

The Party wouldn’t bother someone just because of his religion. This bastard’s a reactionary spy who’s been working with an underground network, hatching plots against us.

Even so, unless he’s committed a grave crime, I’d like to try and talk to him. Isn’t that the job you’ve entrusted us with?

He let out a long sigh, nodding in spite of himself.

We have no alternative at the moment. Unless he agrees to join the military.

The officer glanced at a clerk and soon, Cho Sangho was brought into the office. He cut a shabby figure indeed, shod in a pair of heelless komusin . I turned to the clerk.

Is there someplace quiet we can go?

The clerk shot a fierce, sidelong scowl at Sangho then led us to a room with “Investigations” written across the entrance. Opening the door for us, he growled, You shouldn’t waste your time.

I entered the room and took a look around. One desk and three chairs, two chairs on either side of the door and one pushed back against the opposite wall. I took a chair and offered him one facing mine.

Here, take a seat.

His movements were docile as he went over to the chair and sat down.

I don’t work for this police station, nor do I belong to the Party. I am a Christian, too.

I’m fully aware of that, sir.

Out of nowhere, he beamed as if he were overjoyed to see me. I was rather taken aback.

Are you saying you know who I am?

Yes, sir. I’m friends with Yohan.

I, too, was glad to hear that. Now that I was actively trying to place him, the lad did look vaguely familiar.

Is it true that you’ve joined the Unification Corps?

Some of my friends have, but not me. I was just hiding up in the mountains for a while, and then I came back home.

Why were you hiding?

Because the Church is against the war and I didn’t want to join the army.

I see. Well, first and foremost we need to keep you alive, don’t we? Tell them you’ll join the army.

Hanging his head, Sangho lowered his voice.

It’s too late now. The U.S. Army has landed in Incheon.

How can you be sure? I heard that the North has pushed all the way down to the Naktong River.

Well, now they’re falling back.

I’ll talk to them for you. Say nothing — just do exactly as I tell you.

After sending him back to the holding cell I went to speak with the police officer in charge, but before the man would speak to me he checked in with people at several different desks, deliberately taking as long as possible.

All right. If he wants to join the army, I’ll turn him over to the Department of Military Mobilization — but keep in mind that we need you, Comrade, and one other person to guarantee his trustworthiness.

I’ll have no problem doing it, but who else do you need?

Well, I’m afraid it will have to be a Party member.

It was then that I thought of Sunnam. I set out for his office at once. I explained the situation to him, got his signature, put down my name and my fingerprints, and brought it back to the police station. After that, though, no one really kept track of what actually happened to Sangho. The war was escalating too fast. Later on I learned, rather belatedly, that the recruits had been sent off to Sariwŏn in a truck. Thanks to the U.S. air strikes our vehicles could no longer move about during the day, so they only got started as twilight set in. Since headlights were banned, too, the truck was probably going about as fast as a bicycle. My guess is that Sangho simply jumped off the back of the truck as it made its way to Sariwŏn.

A breeze blew in through the open window, and the bedroom door came ajar with a clunk. Yosŏp woke up, dazed from sleep.

Come out here for a minute.

Eh, eh. who’s there?

Yosŏp squinted, peering through the darkness. He thought he could see something faint and whitish floating in through the crack of the open door. Fumbling in the dark, Yosŏp walked out of the bedroom. He had the feeling that someone was waiting in the pitch-black living room. As he came out of the room, he saw a row of milky white phantoms all clustered together. The one who’d called out to him was waiting by the door. As he might have expected, it was Big Brother Yohan. The thing was murmuring, This’ll probably be the last time. All of us are gathered here together.