Damp and Soggy
McKinnon picked up his share of the hamburgers.
He peeled back half the wrapper, took a huge bite, and chewed slowly, his expression so relaxed it was almost serene.
It was the calmest, most easygoing look I’d seen on anyone I’d been traveling with so far.
I sat across from him and stared, my eyes narrowing with an odd sort of suspicion.
Sensing my gaze, McKinnon raised one brow.
“What? Got a problem?”
“...No. Not really.”
Yeah, there wasn’t exactly a problem.
It was just a little... strange that after spending the last few days kidnapping people, trading gunfire, and getting into car chases, the place we’d ended up to wrap it all up was McDonald’s.
Especially since McKinnon was the one who’d dragged me here in the first place.
“Hmm...”
I looked around. It was lunchtime, so the place was packed.
Families wandering around with trays in hand, hunting for seats; teenagers laughing over shared fries; a lone man eating a burger while staring at his phone.
Far off at the pickup counter, an employee kept shouting out order numbers at the top of his lungs.
If you’re going to do that, why not just put up a screen with the queue numbers?
It was loud, chaotic, and exactly what an ordinary McLunch rush looked like.
As I watched, McKinnon said casually, “Once you’ve been run ragged in places like this for more than ten years, you’ll start liking it too.”
He stuffed a fry into his mouth and continued in an unruffled tone, “McDonald’s tastes the same no matter where you go.”
Then he picked up another limp fry and muttered, “And I only feel like the job’s really over once I’ve eaten this. These goddamn soggy fries.”
I grabbed one of my own fries and ate it.
He was right. It really was soggy. They must’ve fried it early because of the lunch crowd.
“Don’t people usually go to a pub or something after work? That’s how it is in movies.”
“Movies are movies. Reality’s reality. And I like McDonald’s.”
Such a stubborn preference. I snorted and took a sip of cola.
Come to think of it, Marcus in Hong Kong was the same way. People in this line of work really did seem to have strong tastes.
“The Prague job. Overall, it wasn’t bad.”
McKinnon, halfway through his burger, tossed me the comment like it was nothing.
“There were a few clumsy spots, but whatever. You did well checking your ammo in the field.”
“...That’s a compliment, right?”
“Take it however you want.”
McKinnon tore open the wrapper on his second burger with all the enthusiasm of a man embarking on a sacred rite.
One bite in, he seemed to remember something and looked back at me.
“Lee.”
“Yeah?”
“Learn how to let yourself unwind a little, and keep your stress down. If you can’t do that, you’ll be in for a rough time later.”
That was unusually considerate advice coming from him.
I nodded. McKinnon kept chewing as he went on, “If you ever need something like counseling, say so. I know a decent therapist. I can introduce you.”
He said it as if it were nothing, but I could feel the concern underneath.
In one way or another, this had been my first mission after leaving training, and it had also been the first time I’d killed someone.
At the time I’d been too busy to think about it, but it was definitely the kind of situation that could leave a scar.
And my own thoughts on that were...
...I’m surprisingly fine.
Maybe it was because I’d seen countless deaths in the memories of Tang Chun-yeong’s past life.
Honestly, those memories had always felt less like things that had actually happened to me and more like I’d been watching someone else’s life unfold from the outside.
So I’d assumed my past-life memories hadn’t really affected me much—but looking at it now, maybe that wasn’t entirely true.
“Anyway, when you get back, take a break for a while. Stop doing this shitty work for a bit. Work-life balance, or whatever. That’s my advice.”
With that, McKinnon shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth.
Then he immediately tore open the third wrapper. The guy was serious about burgers.
After finishing the third one too, McKinnon pushed his tray away and stood up.
“Guess it’s time to part ways.”
I stood up as well. McKinnon held out his hand.
We shook briefly, and then he gave my shoulder a quick pat before turning away.
“See you in the States.”
His broad back disappeared into the lunchtime crowd.
Of course, he didn’t look back.
Left alone at the table, I looked down at the tray.
There were still a few fries left. I picked one up and put it in my mouth.
It felt like everything that had happened over the past few days had been a dream.
And then I opened my eyes and, like a lie, found myself back in ordinary life.
Fluorescent lights, plastic trays, McDonald’s, and fries.
“Yeah. Soggy, all right.”
I muttered that to myself and took one last drink of the flat cola.
I picked up the tray and got to my feet.
***
The digital board chirped as the train time rolled over.
Announcements kept pouring out of the speakers in German.
I sat on a platform bench and stared at the tracks.
Gray sky. A cold wind drifted in from the far side of the rails and brushed past my cheek.
“Hoo...”
I pulled a Manila envelope out of the bag beside me.
It had been delivered by someone on the CIA side while I was staying in Germany for a few days. It was fairly thick.
I opened the flap and took out the documents inside.
They were more or less what I’d expected.
E-2 visa approval notice.
Certificate of LLC registration in Virginia.
A copy of the lease agreement for a commercial clinic space.
NCCAOM exam schedule and registration instructions...
Everything Lee Dohyun, a Korean medicine doctor, would need in order to open a clinic in Virginia.
It was also part of what I’d requested when I made my contract with Hoffman.
I need an official reason to stay in the United States for the long term without raising suspicion.
The CIA had handled the process for me and taken some of the hassle off my hands, but all of it had gone through proper channels.
In other words, the paperwork was completely legal and squeaky clean.
“They really do handle this kind of thing quickly.”
I roughly straightened the papers and shoved them back into the envelope.
There was a lot waiting for me once I returned to the United States.
Not bad.
I checked the time. The train still wouldn’t be here for quite a while.
So, thinking I might as well look around, I got up from the bench and walked into the station.
As I was strolling casually past the bookstore inside, a pile of Christmas cards, shoved into the corner because the season was over, caught my eye.
I stopped walking, staring at the half-price stickers on them.
Sorry, but let’s go together next time.
A flushed face opening the café door and stepping inside.
The streets of Prague in falling snow. The lights of the Christmas market shining in the distance.
That little thing with Hanna, which had been bothering me for days, came back to mind.
“A postcard, huh...”
I wouldn’t be able to go back to the Czech Republic for a while, but a postcard should be fine, shouldn’t it?
I pulled out my wallet and bought a Christmas card and a stamp on the spot.
“Let’s see.”
I sat down on an empty bench nearby and took out a pen.
After thinking about what to write, I jotted down a few short lines.
I didn’t know Hanna’s address or contact information, so I had it sent to the café where I worked.
If the owner saw it, he’d definitely notice the postcard and pass it on to Hanna.
Well, that should do it.
I left the station building.
There was a yellow mailbox standing on one side of the square.
After a moment’s hesitation in front of the slot, I slid the card in.
Thud.
It wasn’t much, but I did feel a little lighter.
I looked at the mailbox for a moment, then slowly turned and started walking.
It was time to go back to the United States.
***
The streets of Prague, stripped of their Christmas decorations, looked oddly empty.
Where the stalls had once stood, only a vacant square remained, and the snow that had half-melted along the roadside had frozen into dirty clumps of ice.
Hanna finally left the house in the afternoon, laptop bag in hand.
She had barely finished an urgent translation job sent over by her publisher, and at last she had a little free time.
She walked through the familiar alley and opened the door to the café she always visited.
Jingle—
Warm air and the smell of coffee rushed out at her.
Hanna’s steps slowed slightly as she approached the counter.
The face standing in front of the espresso machine was unfamiliar.
A Czech man with his hair cut short was staring blankly back at her, apron tied around his waist.
“What can I get you?”
“Ah... one cappuccino, please. Lots of milk, just a little cinnamon.”
Usually the menu had been waiting for her on the counter before she even asked.
Actually speaking the order out loud felt strangely awkward.
She set her bag down at the corner by the window, at the usual seat.
She opened her laptop, but the words on the screen refused to settle into focus.
Hanna ended up resting her chin in her hand as she stared at the blank document, the cursor blinking patiently at her.
Daniel.
He was the kind of man who seemed shy at first glance, but with a sly, easygoing streak hiding underneath.
Just when she thought they’d become close, he’d start dodging the conversation the moment his own life came up.
He always felt like someone hiding something, though maybe that was just the sort of person he was.
More than anything, he was comfortable to be around.
That was why she’d grown fond of him.
Honestly, quite a lot.
Then, all at once, she remembered the last conversation they’d had.
She’d gathered her courage and asked him to go to the Christmas market with her.
She hadn’t known that would be the last time.
Could I have driven him away?
For days now, Hanna had been unable to sleep because of that thought.
Had she been that burdensome? Had asking for one date been enough to make him run?
The more she regretted it, the angrier she felt.
...Am I really that awful?
Who would’ve thought I’d actually end up doing one of those joke internet things where you confess to someone just to chew them out?
With her feelings in complete knots, Hanna pulled the notebook beside her laptop closer and took up her pen.
She started scribbling without thinking.
Really??
She pressed hard enough with the pen tip to make the paper dent.
Really????????
By the time she’d written that much, the ballpoint looked ready to punch straight through the page.
And then, suddenly realizing what she was doing, Hanna’s face went hot.
She covered her cheeks with both hands and let out a long breath.
“Um, Hanna, right?”
She looked up.
The new employee at the counter had come over.
There was a small sheet of paper in his hand.
“A postcard came to the café, and it was addressed to you. They told me to give it to you when you came in.”
The employee set the postcard on the table and walked away.
Plop.
Hanna picked it up with a puzzled expression.
It was a Christmas card, far too late to be on time.
She turned it over.
=====
Hanna.
Sorry I couldn’t go to the Christmas market with you.
I really wanted to go together, but something urgent came up and I had to head back to the United States.
Next time we meet, let’s definitely go together. Anywhere is fine.
Anyway.
Belated Merry Christmas.
- Daniel
PS. So stop cursing me out. I can hear you.
=====
After reading it to the end, Hanna let out a laugh that was half disbelief.
“What a ridiculous guy.”
He hadn’t left her a phone number or an email address.
With no promise of when they’d meet again, he’d just tossed out a bold little promise like it was nothing. He really was the worst.
Hanna thought that as she felt the corners of her mouth keep tugging upward.
And yet, oddly enough, she didn’t feel bad.
If anything, it felt very much like him.
The United States, huh.
Hanna held the postcard in both hands.
Then she looked out the window. Snow was beginning to drift down beneath the gray sky.