Buddha's money

18

The sloth, I figured, was an import.

It was a dangerous, slow-moving tropical animal that would never have survived in Korea during all the thousands of years the peninsula has been populated by aggressive hunters and rice farmers.

The species must've been brought to the island of Bian-do by Lady Ann's ancestor, Ahn the Righteous Fist, to help protect the treasure hidden deep in the bowels of the mountain. Who knows what other sorts of creatures lurked in the thick foliage of Bian Island? I didn't want to find out.

As we stood on the rock-strewn beach gaping at the mouth of the AK-47, Ernie decided to act nonchalant. He stared at the monks, like a punk on a street comer trying to intimidate the gang from another block.

One of the monks stepped forward. His head was shaved, and the brown leather of his skin stretched tightly across high cheekbones.

"Chosim heiya ji," he said. You must be careful. "Yogi ei dongmul manhayo." There are many animals here.

I translated. Ernie nodded toward the automatic weapon still pointed at us. "You ought to be careful with that thing, too."

The leathery monk barked an order. The AK-47 was lowered.

Lady Ahn stepped forward, arms wrapped around the jade skull, head bowed. Gracefully, she lowered herself to a kneeling position on the beach.

"We have greatly bothered you," she told the monk in formal Korean. "For that I am full of regret."

Ernie fidgeted, not liking all the groveling, even of a formal kind, but I shot him an evil look, warning him to shut up.

It was our only chance. Koreans have to work these things out in their own way. Ways that have been mapped out by thousands of years of culture.

While they talked, Ernie and I moved a few feet farther apart. If we had to charge, one of us might be able to reach the gunman.

The leather-faced monk narrowed his eyes at us. "Umjiki-jima!" he said. Don't move. Ernie and I froze.

He spoke to Lady Ahn in rapid Korean. So rapid I had trouble following it all. But in general he was berating her for having stolen the skull, for not coming to him and explaining why she wanted it. He knew of her descent from the last emperor of the Sung dynasty; he knew, too, that the precious jade skull held the key to untold wealth.

Lady Ahn raised her voice and interrupted him. Ernie grinned. I held my breath. Pissing the monk off was a gamble. This guy held all the aces. Nobody even knew we were on this island.

"If I had come to you," Lady Ahn said, "would you have turned the jade skull over to me?"

The monk thought about it for a moment. "No. I would not have."

"Then I had no choice. I had to devise a plan. I had to seek help. Not from Koreans. It would be too tempting for a Korean to betray me and keep the wealth for himself. So I had to seek help from these foreigners, who have no family here. Who have no ties to ancient clans or to secret societies. Had I asked for the jade skull, you would've laughed at me."

"No." The monk shook his bald head. "I would not have laughed. I understand your desire to see the Sung dynasty rise again. To see a fully Chinese emperor once again sit on the Dragon Throne. Not a Mongol. Not a Manchu. Not some intellectual with political ideas stolen from the West. But a true Chinese leader of royal blood. Don't you think we have wanted the same thing, too?"

Lady Ahn raised her head, staring up at the monk, her jaw clamped tightly. The monk continued.

"But where would we find such a leader? The answer is simple. No one can find such a leader. Such a leader must rise by his own strength. No matter what the obstacles. So the answer is no. Had you asked for the jade skull, I would have turned you down. But you didn't ask, you took it!"

The other monks murmured in assent.

Fisherman Yun crouched silently in his boat, a look of grave resignation on his face, as if he expected to be executed any moment. Ernie's teeth clicked madly on his ginseng gum, his eyes darting like two bumblebees swarming from a hive. He was about to make a move, no question about it, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

The monk turned to his own men. "She took it," he said again. "And with a bold plan. With fierce warriors performing daring feats at her command!"

The monks murmured again, a little more fiercely this time. Ernie didn't understand enough Korean to follow this. The monk with the AK-47 raised it slightly.

The chief monk turned back to Lady Ahn and held out his open palm. "Rise, Lady Ahn," he commanded. "Rise!"

Ernie picked this moment to dart for the shore. A monk stepped in front of him.

Ernie flung out his elbow, catching the monk square in the jaw with a loud crack, slamming his bald head back.

Everyone on the beach exploded into action. One monk leapt at Ernie and grabbed him by the ankles; another snatched the skull out of Lady Ahn's hands. Three more swarmed toward Ernie. They piled on until he lay on his back punching and cursing and kicking.

I tried to pull them off of him, but somebody threw me to the ground with a deft judo move. When I looked up, the monk with the rifle held the barrel on me. Smiling.

After a few well-placed karate chops, Ernie lay silent on the blanket of pebbles. I watched his chest rise and fall. He slept as soundly as a lifer after Happy Hour.

The monks dusted off their robes and resumed their positions behind their leader.

During the fight, Lady Ahn had risen to her feet. She now stood staring solemnly at the leather-faced monk.

He motioned. A young monk stepped forward. Holding the jade skull out with two hands, the monk said, "You earned the jade skull." He offered it to Lady Ahn. "It is yours, good lady. Do with it as you wish."

She accepted it, then bowed. He barked another order. The monk with the rifle pulled out the curved ammunition clip, switched the rifle to safety, and tossed both the rifle and the clip to me. Startled, I barely caught the weapon before it hit the ground.

The chief monk spoke again, this time in English.

"The rifle belonged to the man who tried to invade our island two weeks ago. He wore the uniform of a North Korean commando and carried one of their weapons, but he wasn't one of them." The monk waved his arm behind him. "This island has no military value. The man was a mere thug. His mission was to sneak into our temple and steal the jade skull. However, he was careless, and the brown sloth caught him before he could complete his job." The monk turned and stared into Lady Ann's eyes. "The man was hired by another foreigner who stalks our land. This foreigner is a Mongol, a member of a people who have plagued our peaceful country before. This foreigner knows of the Tomb of Genghis Khan and he knows of the jade skull. He is ruthless; he will stop at nothing to possess it. We have no use for that rifle. But if you and your soldiers insist on keeping the jade skull, you will need it."

Lady Ahn bowed until her head was level with her waist. "We are grateful, Honored Monk."

She stood upright and the monk looked her over one last time. "Make your ancestors proud," he said.

With that, he barked a final order and he and his entourage disappeared into the trees and shrubs that lined the shore.

Ernie came to and jerked his head up.

"Where are they?" he said. "I'll knock me some bald-headed monk out."

"Relax, Ernie," I said. "They're gone."

We were in the boat now, Fisherman Yun rhythmically pulling on the oar, Lady Ahn sitting forward, clutching the jade skull, staring into the distance.

Ernie rubbed the back of his head. "What happened?"

"You got your ass kicked."

"I mean, besides that."

"The monks decided they liked Lady Ann's style. They let her keep the skull."

"What do you mean they let her keep it? We all stole it, right? Fair and square."

Lady Ahn didn't move, although she must've heard Ernie's comment.

"She still plans to trade it for Mi-ja," I answered. "Don't worry about anything else."

This time I noticed her back tense a little. Maybe she was having second thoughts about releasing the jade skull after all she'd gone through to possess it. I had no such doubts. The skull had to be traded for Mi-ja. I'd see that it was. One little girl's life was more important than all these bitter squabbles over ancient treasure.

Mi-ja was real. And she needed our help. And she needed our help now.

I decided to keep an eye on Lady Ahn.

Not that I hadn't before.

Lady Ahn's mother was so sad to see her daughter go that she couldn't hide her tears. As we left on the ferry, Lady Ahn held hers through what seemed to be a massive display of will.

After the ferry stopped at the first island on its way back to the mainland and picked up a few more passengers, Lady Ahn told us about the KNP inspection routine at the dock in Ok-dong.

"They don't inspect every bag," she said. "Just the ones that might produce a tip for them."

A bribe is what she meant.

Plenty of smuggling went on in these islands. Foreign products not stamped by the Ministry of Customs were illegal. A few hundred won, however, would convince most KNPs to look the other way. But they wouldn't look the other way for an AK-47 automatic rifle. Or an antique of such obvious value as Kublai Khan's jade drinking cup skull.

Our problem was how to slip both items past them.

Lady Ahn shoved the jade skull deep into a twenty pound sack of unhusked rice, threw away some of the excess grain, and slung the heavy bag over her shoulder. The sack looked big and awkward. It might work. It might not.

Ernie had dismantled the stock from the main firing chamber of the AK-47. The disassembled mechanism fit easily into the bottom of his leather bag.

Still, it was a big risk. Either item, if discovered, would set off alarm bells from here to Seoul. The first thing that would happen is that they'd be confiscated. The second thing that would happen is we'd be thrown in jail.

Ernie and I would almost certainly be court-martialed for carrying a Communist-made weapon. I thought of getting rid of it. In fact, I damn near told Ernie to toss it over the side. But finally, I reconsidered. Now that we had the jade skull, there was no telling who might be after us.

At the time, I figured I was just paranoid.

The skull was a bigger risk than the machine gun. The Korean government would take possession of it and we'd never see it again. And then we'd have nothing to use to bargain for Mi-ja's freedom.

Once they knew they weren't going to obtain the jade skull, the kidnappers would only want to cover their tracks. Killing Mi-ja was the sure way of doing that.

Leaning on the rail of the ferry, the three of us talked it over.

The sky was gray. Gulls swooped into the choppy waters of the Yellow Sea. The crisp air reeked of fish.

Lady Ahn thought we should be prepared to pay a large bribe.

Ernie objected. "No way. I'm not coughing up no more money to no more KNPs." He waved his hand dismissively. "You just leave it to me. I'll get this stuff past them."

Maybe he would. Still, I counted out the dollars I had on me. Less than forty. Lady Ahn had about fifteen thousand won, almost thirty bucks.

That might work. But it would leave us broke and with no money to make it back to Seoul.

The worst case was that it would only be enough money to piss off the KNP, and instead of letting us off the hook we'd be charged-in addition to arms smuggling and theft of national treasures-with attempted bribery of a public official.

Ernie occupied himself with trying to hustle three college girls wearing caps and backpacks and hiking boots. He passed out ginseng gum all around, and soon the four of them were laughing.

Lady Ahn and I went to the galley and bought two tin cans of iced coffee. We walked back up on the deck. As we sipped, the lush islands of the Korean west coast floated by.

She wore a freshly pressed pair of beige denim slacks, a sky-blue blouse, and a brown windbreaker with a snap-on collar like the race car drivers wear. Shades would've completed the picture, but Lady Ahn was too busy studying the world to allow anything to intervene.

As she breathed slowly, I watched her and thought of reaching for her hand. Somehow, I never quite worked up the courage.

The crowd debarking from the ferry pushed and shoved. Everybody shouted, trying to reach the narrow exitway past the Korean National Police inspection counter.

Some of the women with bundles atop their heads had to stop and open them. Others were waved through by white-gloved policemen.

When it came our turn, Lady Ahn went first, followed by me and then Ernie right behind. The fat policeman pointed at Lady Ahn's bag. He told her to drop it on the counter.

Ernie stepped forward. "Wait just a minute, honcho," he said. "I saw that little lady in front of us and you let her squirt on by without so much as a howdy-do."

The fat policeman stared at him blankly, not understanding a word he said. Ernie leaned forward, jabbing his forefinger into the palm of his open hand.

"You have to understand here, chingu. Us Miguk people, we don't put up with this kind of treatment. No, sir."

Ernie pounded on his chest like a gorilla from the Congo.

"I'm an American, you alia? Born and bred in the U.S.A. No, sir. We don't put up with this type of treatment. We're here defending your country and we demand to be treated with some serious respect!"

The line behind us came to a complete halt. People craned their necks to see what was going on and still kept shoving forward. Soon, some of them started to yell.

"I want to see your boss!" Ernie roared. "I want to see your honcho and I want to see him right now!"

The Korean National Policeman was still confused, not sure what was going on. Most people just followed his orders. He wasn't used to some big-nosed foreigner shouting loud English at him.

Other cops yelled at him to keep the line moving. Someone in an office behind the counter with its big plate-glass window finally noticed the commotion. A man dressed in a neady pressed khaki uniform under a brass-braided cap strolled out.

The same officer who had waved us through when we boarded the ferry two days ago.

When the officer saw Ernie, his face crinkled as if he'd bitten into a sour persimmon. The KNP looked at him for instruction.

"Migun itjiyo?" the honcho shouted. Aren't they GIs?

"Net." The fat cop nodded. "Migun ieiyo." Yes. They're GIs.

The honcho impatiently waved his hand. "Kurum ka. Bali ka!" Then let them go.

The KNP waved us forward. Ernie glared at the cop for a moment, shifted his bag on his shoulder, thrust out his chest, and sashayed past the inspection counter.

Lady Ahn and I stayed right with him.

On the main drag of Ok-dong, we stopped in a noodle shop and ordered three bowls of meiun-tang. Spicy noodle soup, the broth flavored with a few tiny clams and the head of a mackerel.

Lady Ahn slurped delicately on her noodles. I asked Ernie about the college chicks he'd met on the ferry.

"They're from some university out near Suwon. They gave me their phone numbers, but I don't think I'll call them."

"Why not?"

"Because they only want to go out with me one at a time."

"So?"

"When I meet 'em in a group, I want them to stay in a group. All the way into the sack."

Lady Ann's cheeks turned pink. I changed the subject.

"Looks like rain," I said.

A few drops slapped against the pavement.

"Yes," Lady Ahn said. "We must hurry."

We paid the bill, shouldered our bags, and trooped through the narrow pathways of Ok-dong, heading for the bus station.

Looking back on it, there were signs I should've Noticed. The local villagers didn't stare at us, as they would normally when encountering foreigners. Instead, they turned their heads away.

Men loitered near wooden carts, squatting and exchanging cigarettes. Nobody loiters in Korea. Especially not in a remote fishing village, where scratching out a living is a full-time occupation.

And the leather-faced monk on Bian Island had warned us. Other people were after the jade skull.

The reek of salted flesh filled the air, mingling with a dry mist of sawdust kicked up by our feet.

We had decided to take a shortcut through the Ok-dong market.

Ahead, huge glass tanks swarmed with fish. On either side, damp wooden stalls wriggled with purple-veined squid and piles of reddish crabs pinching madly into nothingness. Above us, a sea of canvas blocked the sky.

Two men stepped out from behind glass tanks. Three more appeared behind us.

All wore the loose pantaloons and soiled vests of farmers. But in their hands each man held a short heavy club or the wickedly curved sickle used for harvesting grain.

They were sunburned men and not Koreans. I knew right away who they were. Mongols. Ragyapa's thugs.

I pushed Lady Ahn behind me until her back was pressed against a stall crawling with crustaceans. Ernie dropped his bag, unzipped it, and started scratching through it frantically.

Searching for the AK-47.