CHAPTER 11
1144 Words
CHAPTER 11
No matter how bad it gets, it still beats life in the prison camp. The food was better, for one thing. Mee-Kyong didn’t have to eat bugs anymore. The pain sometimes threatened to knock her unconscious, but it probably wasn’t any worse than what Pang would have put her through if he were still alive.
Why did it always come back to Pang? Why couldn’t she forget the soothing power of his voice or the silky touch of his skin? There was a time when his irresistible charm, even his possessive insanity, exhilarated her. When else in the gulag had she felt so alive? She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of missing him. He had been useful for one thing, and one thing only — survival. Pang’s extra rations got her through prison camp. And his jealous passion for her eventually got her out of it.
Because of Pang, Mee-Kyong was free. At least, she would be once she found a way to leave the Round Robin. Having Sun there complicated things. Mee-Kyong couldn’t articulate why she cared about the unfortunate girl. If it weren’t for Sun, there was no way she would have agreed to work a double shift. And what good had it done? Sun would still have to go through her introduction as soon as Mr. Lee found a patron wealthy enough to purchase the child’s innocence.
You should find a way to escape, fool, not waste your energy worrying about some pathetic child. Once she regained some of her strength, she could flee. But that would mean leaving Sun behind without anyone to stand between her and Mr. Lee’s hungry customers. Why do you care about her so much, anyway? Sun had never done anything for her. If Mr. Lee started working Sun right away like he initially planned, Mee-Kyong would only have half the customers to trouble over. Why should she worry so much about a little girl, a girl who had brought her nothing but torment?
She couldn’t answer that question, even though it kept her awake at the end of each shift.
One day you’ll thank me, little cousin.
Mee-Kyong started to dress for the day but jumped up when Mr. Lee barged into her room. Red splotches stained his fleshy face, and drops of sweat beaded on his bulging forehead. “I hope your friend is worth ten thousand yuan.”
She forced all emotion out of her expression. “So your little bidding war worked out in your favor?” Mee-Kyong spoke slowly and tied her bathrobe around her waist.
Mr. Lee ignored the question. “She’s been adequately prepared, I assume?”
Mee-Kyong fingered the nylon sash of her robe. “She’ll be ready in a few more days.”
“She’ll be ready this afternoon.”
She reached over for her comb and brushed her hair, taking pride in the way she could deliberately keep her hands from trembling. How many times had she lied to Pang? This would be no different. “You should let me have a little time with her first.”
Mr. Lee chuckled mirthlessly. His entire midsection jiggled, and his lungs wheezed with the effort. “I gave you two whole days.”
She shrugged. “Two days or two weeks, she’s still only a child.”
“What do you think I’m getting paid for? An old hag dripping blood?”
Mee-Kyong ignored the insult and fidgeted with her collar. “She’ll be nervous. She might make a mistake.”
“That would not be so fortunate for you, Teacher.” Mr. Lee spat out the last word like a curse.
Mee-Kyong imagined the expression on his adipose face if she plunged a knife into his heart. “Of course, I’ll continue to coach her so she’ll be ready for her meeting.”
“Good,” Mr. Lee grunted, passing gas as he maneuvered his overburdened frame out the door. “I just hope her customers are more satisfied than yours.”
Mee-Kyong lost track of how long she spent vacillating between her bed and the door once Mr. Lee left. What good had she done by giving Sun extra time before her introduction? None at all. Two days. A mere two extra days of childhood, but her fate was still the same. Mr. Lee was the only one who benefitted at all from Mee-Kyong’s plan, which gave him extra time to find the highest bidder.
Her legs were as stiff as a statue of the Dear Leader himself, and just as heavy, as she made her way to Sun’s room, liquor flask in hand, sick with the realization that she had no way to help Sun escape. She couldn’t even help herself. In better health, she could probably sneak past Mr. Lee’s guards, but she wasn’t strong enough yet. She couldn’t run, and she certainly couldn’t fight her way out. One kick to the abdomen would drop her in an instant. In a month or two, she could run away. But what about Sun? The girl was nothing more than a child. She was a head shorter than Mee-Kyong, and just as skinny and malnourished as the sickliest of girls from the gulag. Mee-Kyong was only a few years older, but when it came to life experience, the difference could have been measured in decades.
She couldn’t get Sun out, not yet anyway. The child would have to go through with her introduction. She eyed the small flask in her hand. At least she could help Sun forget for a few hours. But Mr. Lee would get his money’s worth out of the child after all. There was no other choice. At least not with Mee-Kyong still so weak from the delivery. She took a deep breath. She hadn’t told Sun anything yet. She had tried once or twice but always changed her mind out of pity. The girl had no idea what was about to happen to her. Mee-Kyong had been waiting, refusing to squelch Sun’s enthusiasm and naiveté until the very last moment.
That moment was here.
Her hand felt like it was weighed down with an iron chain as she lifted it to Sun’s door. She knocked even more loudly when there was no response. The poor soul was probably taking a nap, oblivious to her danger, dreaming about home and all the money she’d bring back to her adoring family.
Go in there and get this over with, you stupid coward. Mee-Kyong couldn’t wait any longer. In just a short time, Mr. Lee’s bidder would come and claim his prize. There was no way to spare Sun from the fear and the pain, but at least Mee-Kyong could tell her the truth. The child deserved that much. She deserved to know what was about to happen to her. And the liquor could help her relax. Would Sun hate her after tonight? Mee-Kyong took a deep breath and lifted her chin. It was time to tell her everything. Beyond that, there was nothing else she could do. Not yet, at least. She cracked the door open and heard the child’s stifled sobs.
She was too late.
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