The Target

Chapter 62

The Jumbo Jet flying in from Frankfurt, Germany, descended smoothly into the airspace around JFK. Min watched out the window from near the back of the plane. She had been nervous about boarding an airplane but had done so when reassured by Chung-Cha.

As Min looked out the window, Chung-Cha gazed over her shoulder at the impressive Manhattan skyline that appeared in her line of vision when the jet banked to come in for a landing.

Min looked at Chung-Cha in wonderment. “What is that?” she asked, pointing at the buildings down below.

“It is a city. New York City, they call it.”

“I have never seen so many tall…” Here her limited vocabulary faltered.

“They are called skyscrapers,” said Chung-Cha. “And they used to have two others that were the tallest of all.”

“What happened to them?” asked Min.

“They fell down,” replied Chung-Cha.

“How?” asked an astonished Min.

Since they were currently riding in a jet, Chung-Cha did not want to answer truthfully. “It was an accident.”

They landed and taxied to the gate, where they deplaned. They went through customs. Chung-Cha steeled herself for any questions that might come her way. Her documents identified her as a South Korean here with her niece. South Korea was a staunch ally of America and thus they anticipated no problems. But such anticipation guaranteed nothing, Chung-Cha well knew.

However, the customs agent merely looked over her passport and smiled at Min, who clutched a doll that Chung-Cha had purchased for her, and welcomed them to America.

“You have a good time, honey,” said the female customs agent. “The Big Apple is a great place for kids. Don’t miss the zoo in Central Park.”

Min smiled shyly and clutched Chung-Cha’s hand.

Chung-Cha too smiled at the agent. Their plan had worked well. The child had caused all defenses, all natural caution to be abandoned. While she felt guilt for using Min in this way, she could not leave her back in North Korea.

They retrieved their luggage and were met by a car and driver in the area outside the international arrivals terminal.

They were driven to a hotel in lower Manhattan. On the way Min spent the entire time staring out the window, her head constantly swiveling so she would miss nothing.

Chung-Cha was doing the same. She had never been to America either.

They arrived at the hotel and checked in. They had one room on the ninth floor. They took the elevator up and unpacked some of their clothes.

“Is this where we will live?” asked Min.

“Just for a little while,” answered Chung-Cha.

Min looked around the room and then opened a small door in a cabinet.

“Chung-Cha, there is food in here. And things to drink.”

Chung-Cha looked inside the minibar. “Would you like something?”

Min looked doubtful. “Can I?”

“Here is some candy.”

“Candy?”

Chung-Cha withdrew a small package of M&M’s and handed it to Min. “I think you will like these.”

Min looked down at the package and then carefully opened it. She took one of the M&M’s and looked up at Chung-Cha.

“Do I put it in my mouth?”

“Yes.”

Min did so and her eyes widened at the taste. “This is very good.”

“Just don’t eat too many or you will get fat.”

Min carefully shook out four more of the pieces and ate them slowly. Then she rolled up the package and started to put it back in the cabinet.

Chung-Cha said, “No, they are yours now, Min.”

Min gaped at her. “Mine?”

“Just put them in your pocket for later.”

In a flash Min had secreted the package in her jacket. She walked around the room touching everything and then stopped in front of the large TV set in another section of the cabinet.

“What is that?”

“It is a television.” Like many North Koreans, Chung-Cha did not have a TV in her apartment. TV ownership was allowed in North Korea, but all sets had to be registered with the police. And all of the programming was heavily restricted and censored and mostly consisted of melodramatic praise of the country’s leadership and the bashing of countries such as South Korea and the United States and organizations like the UN. Though she did not own one, Chung-Cha had seen and used TVs when traveling. She did own a radio, because they were far more widespread than TVs, but most of the programs were similarly censored.

Things were changing slowly, particularly with the advent of the Internet, but there was no one in North Korea who could be said to be connected with the rest of the world. It was simply not acceptable to the government. While North Korean law, like American law, provided for freedom of speech and the press, there could not be a greater contrast between the two countries in that regard.

Chung-Cha picked up the remote and turned the TV on. When a picture of a man came on and he seemingly started talking directly to her, Min drew back fearfully.

“Who is that man?” she whispered. “What does he want?”

Chung-Cha put a calming hand on her shoulder. “He is not here. He is in the little box. He cannot see or hear you. But you can see and hear him.”

She clicked through the channels until she came to a cartoon. “Watch that, Min, while I check some things.”

While Min was instantly intrigued by the cartoon, even going so far as to reach up and touch the screen, Chung-Cha took out the phone she had been given and accessed her texts. There were a number of them, all in Korean. And they were all in code. Yet even if someone broke the code they would seem nonsensical because behind that code was another code that only Chung-Cha and the sender knew, and it came from a book the identity of which only they knew. These one-time codes were virtually impossible to break, because unless you had the book, you would not be able to crack the code.

Using her copy of the book, she deciphered the messages. Now she had some free time. She looked over at Min, who was still engrossed in the TV show.

“Min, would you like to go for a walk and then get something to eat?”

“Will the TV be here when we get back?”

“Yes.”

Min jumped up and put on her coat.

They walked many blocks until they reached the water. Across the harbor was the Statue of Liberty and Min asked what that was. Only this time Chung-Cha did not have an answer for her. She did not know what the thing was.

They later ate at a café. Min marveled at the odd assortment of people on the streets and in the shops.

“They have things on their skin and metal on their faces,” observed Min as she dug into a hamburger and fries. “Have they been injured?”

“No, I think they did those things by their own choosing,” said Chung-Cha as she glanced at the tattooed and skin-pierced people to whom Min was referring.

Min shook her head but could not tear her eyes away from a group of Asian girls who were giggling and carrying shopping bags and were dressed like typical college students. They clutched their phones and were endlessly texting.

In a low voice Min said, “They look like us.”

Chung-Cha glanced over at the girls. One of them saw Min and waved.

Min hurriedly looked away and the girl laughed.

Chung-Cha said, “They do look like us. But they are not like us.” She said this last part wistfully, but Min was too enthralled with all that was going on around her to notice.

Min said slowly, “People here, they laugh a lot.” She looked at Chung-Cha. “At Yodok, only the guards laugh.” She grew somber and continued to watch everything.

Chung-Cha observed the little girl and knew that it was as if she had been born in a cave and had now been whisked by a time machine into the present day and to a city that was a melting pot beyond all melting pots.

Where people laugh.

They stopped at Washington Square Park later and watched street artists perform: mimes and jugglers and magicians and unicyclists and musicians and dancers. Min stood there clutching Chung-Cha’s hand, her face utterly amazed at what she was seeing. When a person dressed as a statue suddenly moved and plucked a coin from behind her ear, Min screamed but did not run away. When the person handed her the coin Min took it and smiled. The person smiled back and gave her an official salute.

Chung-Cha led her away after a while, but Min clutched the coin and kept looking back over her shoulder at the performers.

“What is this place?” she asked. “Where are we, Chung-Cha?”

“We are in America.”

Min stopped so fast her fingers slipped from Chung-Cha’s. She exclaimed, “But America is evil. I heard so at Yodok.”

Chung-Cha quickly looked around and was relieved that no one had seemed to hear Min even though she was speaking Korean.

“You heard much at Yodok. It does not mean it is all true.”

“So America is not evil?”

Chung-Cha knelt down and gripped Min by the shoulder. “Whether it is or not, you must not mention such things here, Min. There will be people who come to visit me. You will not talk when they are with us. It is very important.”

Min slowly nodded, but there was fear in her eyes now.

Chung-Cha straightened and took Min’s hand once more. They walked back to the hotel without breaking their silence.

And once more Chung-Cha second-guessed herself about bringing Min along.

But I could not leave her.