LONTAR issue #2 Read online

  Bong-hwa leaned closer and lowered his voice. "How did you get out?"

  She pushed some rice around in her bowl with her chopsticks. "The way most do."

  "China?" Many defectors had snuck out of North Korea through the Chinese border, on foot. Those who were desperate to try to run across the heavily-guarded DMZ at Panmunjeom rarely survived the attempt.

  She chewed another piece of beef silently. Nodded.

  "You know what I do. Where do you work, Chon-ji?" Bong-hwa asked. She was young enough to still be a college student, but she seemed mature, hair and all. She had no ring, so he knew she wasn't married. He still suspected she might be an observer from Pyonggang.

  "At the moment, I'm just traveling," she said. "Seeing as much of the country as I can before I settle down and raise a family the way I'm supposed to."

  She was unemployed, then. Defectors, even the ones that tried to blend in, had a hard time finding jobs in South Korea. Despite the increased interest in reunification, there was still a lot of discrimination. The war had technically never ended, after all.

  Bong-hwa wondered how his mother would react to Chon-ji, if she ever met her. His haraboji, his mother's father, had been killed in the Battle of Incheon in 1950. To her, all North Koreans would always be murderers.

  He looked down at his plate.

  "What is it?" Chon-ji asked.

  "Nothing," he said. He bit into his lettuce roll and chewed madly. There was no doubt that his father would object to any relationship with Chon-ji. Bong-hwa's second aunt had married a miguk, a soldier stationed in South Korea after the war who took her to America thirty years ago. She had returned for a visit only once, when Bong-hwa was young, the only time he'd met her. He dreamed of visiting her in Los Angeles one day, but it seemed unlikely.

  "Your turn," she said. "Do you really think there are tigers in the DMZ?"

  He swallowed. "I'd like to think so. There's a famous man here, Lim Sun Nam. We call him 'Tiger Man'. He believes Korean tigers still exist in our country and he's dedicated his life to finding them."

  "Some might say that's as hard to believe as a tiger who can become a woman." Chon-ji smiled.

  Bong-hwa rested his chopsticks on the table and folded his hands. "I wrote to him once, asked him if I could help. He turned me down and told me to do anything else if I could."

  "So you ended up at the zoo instead."

  "I realized that I could still do something for the remaining Korean tigers." He sighed. "But it would be incredible to find them living in the wild. It would be such a boost to Hanguk's national identity."

  "They're out there," Chon-ji said.

  "How do you know?"

  "Because they have to be. Korea—Hanguk and Choson—wouldn't survive without its tigers."

  "You're a romantic, too," Bong-hwa said.

  She picked a shred of meat from a kalbi bone delicately and slipped it between her lips, her eyes on his. He desperately wanted to kiss her.

  "So what have you done to help the tigers, Bong-hwa?"

  In reflection, his efforts seemed inadequate. What was handing out flyers and collecting signatures compared to exploring the wilderness in search of a mythical beast?

  "I joined the DMZ Forum, an international group trying to preserve the border as a natural wildlife habitat. Think about it—few people have stepped foot in those forests since before the war. There are many rare and wild animals living there, some of them the only ones in the world. It's the only place left in all of Hanguk that hasn't been developed."

  "What's it like?" she asked.

  "I don't know." He lowered his eyes. "I haven't been. Civilians can't just go to the DMZ whenever they feel like it."

  "I'd like to see it before I leave," she said.

  He looked up. "Leave? Where are you going?"

  "Back to Choson."

  "Won't you be punished?" It was difficult enough to escape North Korea, he couldn't imagine how one would sneak back in—or why anyone would want to. He wrapped his hands around his lukewarm cup of barley tea. "Why do you want to go there?"

  "It's where I belong, all I've ever known. I was on my way back when I found out that my oraboni is in prison. Because of me."

  "Oraboni?" Bong-hwa asked. He'd heard the word before, but never in conversation. It was a formal version of the word oppa—brother. But it was also sometimes used to refer to an older boyfriend. His grip on the porcelain cup tightened. "You mean your...brother?"

  She nodded and he unclenched his fingers. "When I left, he must have followed me and gotten captured. I must free him and bring him home."

  Bong-hwa blew air from his lips. "I'm sure he doesn't blame you, Chon-ji. It wasn't your fault."

  "I still blame myself."

  "But what can you possibly do to help him?"

  Chon-ji emptied the last drops of soju into her cup and drank it down. Her pale cheeks were splotched red.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  Bong-hwa felt something brush against his bare calf. He started in his seat.

  "Are you all right?" Chon-ji asked. She smiled mischievously.

  "I thought—" He felt it again, a toe stroking his leg. The pink tip of her tongue emerged from between her lips.

  A moment later he felt her foot glide up to nudge his crotch. He splashed tea on his hand.

  "You know, you're cute," she said.

  "Thank you. So are you." He shook his head. "You're beautiful."

  "You'll help me, Bong-hwa, won't you?" She continued to massage the inside of his thighs with her foot and his khakis grew tight. He couldn't believe this was happening.

  "Help you...with what?" he asked.

  "Bong-hwa." He liked the way she said his name with her accent, in that soft tone of voice. "You want to sleep with me?"

  He licked his lips. Nodded.

  Chon-ji leaned over the table and kissed him roughly. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and when he responded, she nipped at his tongue with her teeth then pushed him away playfully. He tasted metal and salt as his tongue bled.

  "You're drunk," Bong-hwa said. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

  "That's why I want you. Don't worry, I can take care of myself. I'm a tiger, remember?" She clawed a hand and swatted it at him.

  "If you say so."

  It didn't matter whether she was playing with him or actually believed her claim; he would agree to anything she said tonight.

  *

  "Shhh..." Bong-hwa said as he opened his apartment door. It was late, and the walls were thin.

  "Are you afraid we'll wake someone?" She slid off her shoes and tried to slip into the house slippers, but her left foot missed the mark. She gave up and stepped onto the wooden floor barefoot.

  "My parents..."

  She laughed and leaned against the doorjamb. "You still live with them?"

  "It's custom, isn't it?" he said gruffly.

  "My family has different customs." She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes.

  "Besides, I don't live with them. They're upstairs. They rent me these rooms." He was proud of his independence, rare among his unmarried male friends, even if it was only the illusion of freedom from his filial responsibility.

  "Hold on, let me get the light," he said.

  Chon-ji lurched toward him and he caught her. "Leave it dark. I like it better," she said.

  She had a musty scent mixed in with the smoky charcoal smell from the barbecue, and her body was as hot as the fire had been. She slipped her arm through his and leaned against him.

  "We can't be together you know," she said. "I can't be a traditional Korean wife."

  "That's not what I'm looking for," Bong-hwa said. A wife was what his parents wanted for him. He supposed that was the life he wanted, too. Eventually. But right now he was happy with Chon-ji, even for only one night.

  "I just wanted things to be clear."

  She brought her face close to his and he felt her warm breath against his cheek. Then he f
elt something wet and rough. Her tongue. His penis hardened.

  "You taste good," she whispered. He bent his head to kiss her.

  She spun away and staggered. He followed her into the main room—the only room, aside from the bathroom and the kitchen tucked behind a paper folding screen.

  "This place is so small," she said. "How do you live with so little space?"

  "I think it's...cozy."

  "It's cramped. Like a cage." She looked around. "Where do you sleep?"

  "Here." He kicked the rolled up sleeping mat and it unfurled under the window. Moonlight slatted through the blinds, creating bands of light on the bedding.

  She tackled him and they fell on the mat together. He tried to get up but she pushed him down. He let her.

  Chon-Ji straddled him and undid her golden jacket. It fell open to reveal small pale breasts, striped white and dark by moonlight. He noticed a thin scar stretching down her left side, over her jutting ribs. He ran a finger down it and she shuddered while her legs tightened around him.

  "How did you get that?" he asked.

  "Playing with my brothers," she said.

  Chon-Ji nuzzled his cheek, nibbled at his neck with her teeth. She tugged at his shirt and pulled it off him. Her unwrapped skirt followed it to the floor.

  "Are you...sure?" he said breathlessly.

  She pressed her pelvis against him and rubbed, then arched her back. He moaned and fumbled for his belt.

  He grabbed for her but she pulled away.

  "Bong-hwa. Do you believe me now?"

  "Yes," he said. "I believe you." He put his hands around her slender waist and ran his fingers through the thick hair falling down her back. He imagined it as a soft coat of fur. He pressed his palms against her back and stroked her feverish skin, traced the hard muscles underneath.

  Her eyes flashed in the darkness as she leaned down, her face hovering just above his. Tangles of hair fell past her face to tickle his and her nails dug into his shoulders like acupuncture needles. Tingling pleasure shot through him. She stuck her tongue out and licked his nose.

  "Gotcha," she said.

  *

  Chon-ji wasn't beside Bong-hwa when he awakened. He'd fallen asleep with her curled against him, her body thrumming gently in his arms as she breathed.

  His body ached. His chest burned. There were four thin gashes across it, tender and spotted with dried blood. He probed the stinging injuries gently with his fingers.

  He sat up and saw Chon-ji pacing back and forth, naked. Her body was white and ghostly, as though it had absorbed moonlight. Her copper hair was like fire against the stark skin.

  "Good morning," he said, testing his ability to speak. His tongue felt thick and raw in his mouth. From the gray light in the room, he knew it was much earlier than he usually woke up. He would call out from work today anyway. He didn't feel up to going in, and he wanted to spend every moment he could with her, if she would let him.

  "I drank too much," she said.

  So much for that. She already regretted what they'd done. Bong-hwa clambered up from the sleeping mat. Their clothes were scattered all around it.

  "I thought you wanted to—"

  "Bong-hwa," she said impatiently. "I just mean that I have a terrible headache. I'm not used to alcohol." She continued pacing.

  "Something else is bothering you," he said. Bong-hwa pulled on his jeans and glanced up at her through his dark bangs.

  "I have to go."

  Of course she would want to move on. He was lucky she'd waited to say good-bye instead of slipping off while he was asleep. "So soon? Breakfast—"

  "Bong-hwa, I need a favor."

  "What is it?" He'd worried she might ask him for money for last night. He wouldn't begrudge her that, but he felt disappointed.

  "Please take me to Kaesong," she said.

  It took him a moment to understand what she was asking.

  "The tiger at the zoo?" he asked.

  "He's my oraboni," she said. "My brother. The one I told you about. I have to see him."

  "Oh," Bong-hwa said. He sat on the couch. "Oh."

  He buttoned his shirt slowly, hiding the red welts crossing his chest. She'd said her brother was in prison. It was true that she'd seemed to have a strange rapport with the caged animal at the zoo, but this was taking things too far.

  "Impossible," he said.

  "What's impossible? My request? Or that I am what I say I am?"

  Both. "Chon-ji, I can't do that. It's against the rules."

  She stopped pacing. Her expression was soft, but every muscle in her lithe body was tensed. Bristling. He was suddenly afraid of her. The cuts on his chest throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

  She approached him and caressed his cheek.

  "Dear Bong-hwa," she said. "You must help me."

  "Why do you want to see him. Your...brother?" he whispered. He still couldn't believe it.

  "He doesn't belong here any more than I do. I'll teach him how to change into a human. It's the only way we can free him."

  Bong-hwa panicked as he wondered how he would explain a missing tiger to his superiors. He could never cover something like that up. Then he realized how foolish it was to worry about that.

  "No." Bong-hwa stepped back. What she was suggesting was delusional. "I can't go along with this pretense any longer. I like you, Chon-ji, but I can see that you are not a tiger. After last night..."

  "People see what they want to see," Chon-ji said. "Whatever is easiest to accept. I hoped you might be different."

  She smiled sadly and bowed low to Bong-hwa.

  Then she turned into a tiger.

  He stared for a long moment before jerking backward with a yell. The change was sudden, not like in those horror movies with sprouting fur and fangs and a cracking of bones. One moment Chon-ji was there and the next, a tiger was in her place.

  She chuffed at him gently and extended a large paw toward him, her head bowed. She was a small tiger, perhaps 150 kilograms, but she still dwarfed the room. His apartment suddenly seemed as cramped as she'd said. His furniture and possessions took on a surreal quality, his brain struggling to process the image of a wild animal in such a familiar and normal setting.

  Her fur matched her human hair, a pale orange-gold coat, with rich brown stripes. He reached out with a trembling hand to reassure himself that he wasn't hallucinating. Her fur was thick, wiry and warm. He bunched her coat up in his fingers and ran them along her neck. She purred, a deep rumble of pleasure. She nudged him with her head and he looked into her gold eyes.

  She was still Chon-ji—the real Chon-ji.

  She licked his face with her rough flat tongue.

  "How...?" he murmured.

  She was a woman again. She was on all fours, his arm around her shoulders. He didn't know what to say. They just looked at each other, huddling together on the floor.

  He glanced at the clock and nodded.

  "You'd better get dressed. We have three hours before the zoo opens. If we leave now, I can get you in before the other zookeepers arrive for work."

  "Thank you," she said.

  Bong-hwa looked around the room. Even though Chon-ji was back to being a five-foot-three woman, the room still appeared to be too small to contain her, or the idea of her. His whole world seemed much smaller and all the things he thought he'd cared about were just clutter now.

  He'd always wanted to help the tigers, but he'd satisfied himself with this life, the one he'd been told he should live, instead of doing something real. Now he had another chance.

  Bong-hwa watched Chon-ji dress, remembering the feel of her fur and her skin and confusing the two.

  *

  An hour before opening, Seoul Grand Park was alive with the sound of waking animals throughout the grounds.

  Bong-hwa had barely spoken a word since they left his apartment. Being in public with Chon-ji, on the subway to Gwacheon, made the events of the morning seem distant and unbelievable.

  "It wasn't a trick,"
Chon-ji whispered.

  "I know," he said.

  He slipped his hand into hers.

  Bong-hwa brought her to the indoor plexiglass cage they used for close-up demonstrations. It connected to the outer tiger habitat through a rectangular opening four feet above the floor. Tigers could come and go as they pleased.

  They did nearly everything as they pleased.

  "Oraboni!" Chon-ji shouted. "I'm here!"

  A tiger roared in response, followed by a chorus of roars from other tigers all around the enclosure. It went on forever. Bong-hwa clapped his hands to his ears, his scalp tingling at the sound.

  A shadow soon obscured the entrance. Kaesong dropped gracefully into the cage. Bong-hwa felt the vibration as the tiger's weight hit the floor.

  Kaesong padded toward them slowly, his tail high and swaying back and forth like a metronome. He chuffed as he faced Chon-ji on the other side of the glass. Bong-hwa felt exposed, even with the clear boundary separating them.

  Chon-ji pressed her palm against the transparent barrier. "I came back for you, brother. I'm so sorry for what happened."

  Kaesong roared. Chon-ji flinched.

  "Leave him out of it," she said.

  "What's going on?" Bong-hwa asked.

  She silenced him impatiently with a wave of her hand.

  Kaesong shook his head and turned away. Bong-hwa wondered if the animal really understood what Chon-ji was saying.

  "It was my choice, brother, as it always was. I don't regret that," Chon-ji said. "Times have changed, but we must survive. It isn't only about you or me, it's about our entire race."

  Kaesong growled and walked away from the glass wall.

  "You have to leave here with us," Chon-ji said.

  "I don't think he's interested," Bong-hwa said softly. "You tried. It's time to go, Chon-ji."

  She glanced at him then turned back to Kaesong. When Bong-hwa blinked there were two tigers before him—one in the cage and one on his side of the wall. His heartbeat raced. Chon-ji had transformed again.

  She nudged the sliding bolt on the door with her nose and looked at Bong-hwa expectantly.

  "Absolutely not," Bong-hwa said. But he went to the locker on the side of the room and took out a tranquilizer gun. He checked that it was loaded and walked back to the cage where Chon-ji waited for him. He reached down and placed his hand on her head.