Hidden Moon

Chapter Six

What makes us different, O?”

Rarely am I at my desk after midnight; rarely does the Sad Man say more than a word or two if we run into each other in the morning when the shifts change.

“Some of us stay out of other people’s apartments unless they’re asked in.” My mood was not the best, all things considered.

Yang shrugged. “The chief told me to go, so I did. That’s not what I meant.”

“But you never went in, did you?”

“No. It wasn’t my idea to snoop around your place without your permission. So why are you mad at me? Especially if I kept out.”

“But you would have gone in if you could have.”

“Meaning?”

“You didn’t turn around on your own. It was the old lady kept you out, wasn’t it?”

Yang frowned. “She’s tough.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the side entrance?”

“I did. She was waiting for me.”

“She moves pretty fast for someone her age. She’s smart, too. What did she say?”

“She didn’t say anything. When I opened the door, she was standing there with her arms crossed. I told her she could be cited for interfering with the work of an investigation. She snorted.”

“So you just backed out. But if you could have sneaked past her, you would have gone in.” I paused, thinking I’d calm down, but I didn’t. “If you’d had some gumption.”

Yang pretended not to hear my last remark, but I could see it had struck home. I wished I hadn’t said it.

“She’s an old lady, O, why should I hassle her? She did her job.” Yang looked sadly around my room.

“And you? What was your job, Yang?”

“I went for a smoke and a walk around. But I saw something while I was leaving. Two guys.”

Yang was uncomfortable. He looked over his shoulder, down the hall toward Min’s office.

It was already the longest conversation I’d had with Yang in years. “Go on.”

“Two guys, not SSD. They didn’t dress like SSD, they didn’t walk like SSD, not even when SSD is trying to pretend to be someone else. Clean shirts, nice cuffs.”

“So, not SSD. So, what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Also not military intelligence. Something else, not like I’d ever seen. Maybe a new group that they haven’t told us about. I walked.”

“You followed them?”

“Nah, I was just walking behind, and they were walking in front. I happened to see the license plate on their car. It’s a special series, I think.”

“And this concerns me, my apartment, or the wallet?”

“Maybe none of them. There’s probably someone else in your building it concerns. Some old war widow, or the high school teacher that lives below you. Sure, that’s it, they sent two guys with nice cuffs out in a car with special series plates to play hide-and-seek with a high school teacher.”

That Yang could be sarcastic was a revelation; maybe it was a good sign. That he had stumbled on an unidentified surveillance team was not such a good sign.

“Well,” I said, “what if this teacher is up to something? Could be this teacher has a black-market radio; very likely, this teacher skipped a key lesson in the social studies section. I don’t teach social studies.” No sense avoiding the obvious question, so I asked it. “Why would I be of interest to anyone?”

Yang threw the wallet on my desk. “This.”

“I thought you said you didn’t make it to my apartment?”

“I didn’t, not when Min sent me.”

“You went there another time?”

Yang shrugged. “So, get mad. If someone saved me a lot of trouble, I might be grateful.”

“What trouble?”

“When I got there, a man was just opening your door. I coughed, and he limped down the hall. Cool as could be, didn’t miss a beat. Went a few doors down from yours and let himself in. He was a tall fellow, though a little stooped. Pretty good clothes for your neighborhood. Couldn’t see his face. You might try putting at least one bulb in the hallway; I’ll get you one. Maybe some locks, too. Doesn’t your building believe in locks?”

“We don’t fancy light in our building; it ruins our sense of sacrifice. Locks suggest a lack of trust. This man, maybe he mistook my room for his. It happens once in a while.” Actually, I’d never heard of it happening before, in all the years I’d lived there. Even the drunks knew their own doors. “How’d you get past the old lady?”

Yang put his finger to his lips.

I put the wallet in the very back of the drawer, right next to a piece of persimmon wood that I had been keeping for a slow day, something to pass the time. “Alright, I owe you a favor. What is it?” There weren’t going to be any slow days; I took the persimmon out of the drawer and slipped it in my pocket.

“Answer my question. Just do that for me. Why are we different?”

“Different, meaning what?”

“Apart. Separate. You are you, I am not. Why?”

“Is something the matter with you being you?” Maybe after years of not talking to people, the man had lost the knack. He wasn’t making sense.

Yang finally moved all the way into my office. “Mind if I sit?” He pointed to the chair but then walked slowly to the other side of the room, so we were talking across a space, however small. “I’m serious. What makes us different?”

“You ask a question I really hadn’t thought about before.” I was feeling my way along and watching Yang closely. “But now that you mention it, we are different. I’m older, I have more time in the Ministry. You’re taller than I am-which is a point I never underestimate, height-and probably smarter. Your mind works better than mine; you observe things I can never see.” Yang waited, motioned for me to continue, but I didn’t want to continue. It was going to get painful in a minute. The only things left would be unpleasant. “That’s about it, I’d say.”

“You know better, O, there’s more to it.” He looked at the floor for a long time. “I’m sad, you’re not.” Already it had the makings of a mournful list. “I have bad luck, yours is good. You have shown bravery, I am a coward. Your grandfather was a hero, mine was a traitor who went south. What would you do if someone’s life were in your hands, if by your sacrifice you might save them?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On the moment. Bravery is momentary, it doesn’t stay with you. It’s a wave, it comes out of nowhere and then recedes. It’s not the same as goodness. That soaks into a person, never leaves them.”

“Like sorrow.”

“You’ve been through bad times, Yang. It’s not easy. Bad things happen. Lots of families had someone who went south and have had to live with it. Give yourself a break.”

“No, the others, my children, they went through bad times, I went through nothing. I was here. Just like I am now, talking, sipping tea. I probably had my feet up on the desk while they were suffocating. Nothing happened to me. But you know what? I have disappeared, O, by degrees. I don’t exist anymore. That’s what makes us different. You’re here, I’m not.”

I cleared my throat and started to respond, then just gave up. Whatever it was I was going to say, something appalling and hollow, decided not to get said. “I’m glad you came in to talk about something like this, Yang. Talking about these things…” The words dried up all of a sudden. There were only a few left, so I said them. “I wish I knew how to help. I wish I did, but I don’t.”

“Perhaps you can, O, you never know.” He walked into the hallway, then turned and came back in front of my desk. “It’s impossible to be anything but sad. I have nowhere else to go, nowhere.”

This was becoming embarrassing. I needed to break it off. “Maybe we should get a drink somewhere, after work. It’s easier to be philosophical with a shot of alcohol in your system.”

He shook his head. “No, I do better with a clear head. I don’t drink. And you stopped after Pak… died. Everyone knows that.”

Something in his voice made me sit up. “What else does everyone know?”

Yang moved over to my window and looked at the dark street. “It’s impossible to be happy here. You, of all people, know that.”

“Is that what you think? Is that what you and Li talk about in the dead hours?” I could have bitten my tongue. Why did I say something like that?

Yang pointed at the night sky. “Even the moon goes through phases. Not like this. Nothing should be this way, O. It shouldn’t stay like this, endlessly. Something’s got to change. Even the dead rot away.”

He turned around. There was nothing to say. We might have stared at each other until dawn, but my phone rang.

“I need to see you right away.” It was a woman’s voice, shaking, barely above a whisper. I remembered what I had said to Han about anonymous phone calls.

“Who is this?”

“You know who it is, Inspector.” The voice found itself; it was the Gold Star Bank manager.

“Where?”

“Near the Potang-gang Hotel, there is a group of three benches just where the road turns into the hotel lot. I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Not such a good place for a woman at this time of night. Pick somewhere else. Where are you now?”

“I’m on my cell phone, Inspector. How about your apartment?”

“My place? Are you crazy? I don’t have any chairs. Give me a second.” I looked up at Yang. “Where do you and Li go if you get hungry at this hour?”

“Nowhere. He brings in his own food; I never eat. But there’s a place where the foreigners go near the Koryo, open all night. The Ministry used to have a watch on it, just lazy duty. We pulled our people because nothing ever happened.”

“I heard, Inspector.” The voice on the other end of the line was building back to its regular sharpness. “I know where it is. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You seem well placed, ten minutes from everywhere.”

“See you.” The phone cut off. Yang had closed his eyes.

“I’ve got an errand to run, Yang. You alright here?”

“Don’t worry about me, O.” He didn’t open his eyes. “I’ve got plenty to do. Plenty.”