Terminal
I rose from my seat. Ma Juri looked up at me, startled.
"Wait here a moment."
I hurried into Byeolchae, threw on some clothes, and came back out. Winter seemed to be closing in; the air had a bite to it, so I dressed a little thicker. I jogged over to Ma Juri and said,
"Let's go."
She stared at me in surprise, then got to her feet in an awkward half-crouch. Together we walked out of Simanjeong. Follow the road all the way down and you reach what passes for this neighborhood's busy strip. I took us there at an easy pace.
"Hungry?"
It was well past dinner hour. Ma Juri shook her head.
"I'm not hungry. And Simanjeong has a cafeteria, doesn't it?"
I smiled, eyes on the road ahead.
"True. Our ladies cook like gods. I'm sorry to those aunties, but tonight I feel like eating out."
She couldn't hide her bewilderment at this sudden turn of events as she trailed after me. Once we reached the main road, shops still open late, lights blazing, began to come into view. My mood lifted at once. Lately I rarely had the chance to step outside for a simple, unhurried dinner like this.
Ma Juri watched me with a faintly puzzled look as I went around beaming. Unbothered by her stare, I grinned and surveyed the street. Then I spotted a food tent at the far end of the road. I headed for it almost at a run, and she followed.
Inside the tent my spirits soared. Grinning, I ordered dish after dish—and soju, of course. Ma Juri still sat there looking dazed, her eyes fixed on my face. I poured a glass and held it out to her.
Watching me knock back the soju with obvious pleasure, she took a sip herself and said,
"I wouldn't have guessed. I thought Jisin never came to places like this…"
I smiled.
"Why? Did you assume I always eat off silver trays?"
She said nothing. I tore into the food-tent classics I hadn't seen in ages—grilled eel, chicken feet, crunchy cartilage—and looking at the spread, I really had ordered a ridiculous variety. Ma Juri only watched me for a while, then finally started eating as well. I laughed as I looked at her.
"You're not what I expected either, Ms. Ma."
"Pardon?"
I drained my glass. She refilled it for me, watching my face.
"You run a bar, don't you? Every day it's top-shelf liquor and fancy bar snacks. And before that you lived large, right? I figured you'd turn your nose up at common food like this…"
I glanced at the menu and prices overhead.
"Though, honestly, the prices here are too steep to call it common food anymore…"
She was still staring at me blankly. I held out my glass, and we drank in silence, round after round. Juri could hold her liquor, all right. Even downing several shots of soju with nothing to chase them, her expression barely shifted. Between the two of us we were working through four or five bottles. She gazed blankly ahead and said,
"That past of mine… it was good back then, but…"
Her voice was too soft, and the noise around us too thick; I couldn't catch it clearly.
"What? I didn't hear you…"
She kept her eyes forward. Sitting beside her, I turned to look at her.
"When I was young, I loved that glittering life. Drinking every night, hitting the clubs, running around with men… Every single day felt like a festival, like a permanent vacation. Because of that, I couldn't settle into an ordinary life. I just couldn't cut myself off from all that glamour. But I wasn't some chaebol's daughter. How long could I keep living like that?"
Juri downed another shot in one go and set the glass down.
"Looking back, it was a stupid choice. I fell in with the neighborhood punks, and at a club I met a foreigner who was in Korea on vacation. That man was David Chow—a mid-level boss in the triads. I latched onto him for all I was worth. I figured if I got close to him, something good would come of it."
There we go. Her real story was starting to surface. I gave no sign of it. Any reaction from me might make her shut herself away again like a clam.
"Luckily, we did get close, and I ended up living in Hong Kong. He had a ton of money and a fair number of men under him. The problem was he did drugs—and when he was high, he'd beat me. Not quite to death, but close. The next day he'd apologize and hand me a fortune. Instead of thinking about how much it hurt, I thought shopping and living it up with all that cash was better."
God, what a mess… I felt a wave of contempt, but I hid it by chewing on a piece of side dish.
"Like I told you, David was killed in an internal power struggle. Honestly, I don't know if he was framed or if he really did something. After he died, I knew I had to move. I knew where he'd stashed his money and jewels while he was alive. So I took all of it and ran for Korea. I shipped the cash and gems with my luggage by freighter. He'd once told me how he moved drugs into Korea. That route was his private trade secret—the whole reason he'd made mid-level boss."
What kind of idiot goes around telling people his business secrets… The thought made me roll my eyes—and then I wondered if this woman simply had something about her that made men spill everything.
"I used that money to take over a bar in Korea. At first I thought I'd just live quietly off it. But the triads aren't people you take lightly. One day they showed up at my place. They showed me photographs of David's three other women—skinned. I thought I was dead."
In Chinese gangster movies they were always doing things like that. My face twisted before I could stop it.
"But to my surprise, they made me a strange offer. They'd let me keep making a living with the bar—if I served as a middleman for their business."
"Middleman?"
"Yes. A kind of post office. Using the same method I'd used to bring in the money and jewels, they'd ship the drugs. I'd collect them and hold them until the Korean dealer came to pick them up. It wasn't hard work, and it wasn't really an offer—it was a threat. I had no choice. I started helping them."
Was that luck? By her account, she seemed almost absurdly lucky—and long-lived. Without that twist she would have ended up like those three women.
"The Korean sales network was airtight. The person who came for the goods was different every time. I thought nothing of it at first, but after a while I realized they were always watching me, posing as customers in my bar. The triad people must have told them my history. As time went on, I figured out that a man who came to our place often was the head of that sales chain. I had no real proof—just a feeling."
When I looked at her with a face that said and what am I supposed to make of that, Juri turned to me with a weak smile.
"Anyone who lives a life like mine gets sharp instincts. I guess that kind of sense develops when you're just trying to survive."
She faced forward again and went on.
"For survival, I approached that man—and he didn't seem to mind me much either. We started living together, and he learned that I knew everything. He told me that as long as I was in his arms, even the triads couldn't touch me. I did everything I could for him, for my own survival. Over time his guard came down, and after that the triad never threatened me again. He had someone watching his back as well. All I know is that person has power you can't even imagine."
Juri knocked back more soju. This time she grimaced.
"Just when I thought I could finally live a stable life, the heavens refused to leave a filthy life like mine in peace. Not long ago I felt unwell, went to the hospital—and got a terminal diagnosis."
I stopped mid-chew. Juri glanced at me and gave a short, dry laugh.
"Shocked? If it were something like cancer, maybe I could cling to a last hope. But it's not. They say it's an extremely rare disease. Genetic. The cells in my brain keep dying. No medicine, no treatment. They told me that in about a year, symptoms like dementia will start. It's almost convenient, really. Nothing changes on the outside. I just live like this until my memories start vanishing—and then I can start getting ready to die."