Beasts of a Little Land(32)
When she arrived at their meeting place, there was only one guest seated by himself at a corner table away from the door, deep in his own thoughts. He met her eyes immediately when she entered, and rose courteously as she walked toward him.
“I’m Lee MyungBo. It is so good of you to come,” he said with a bow.
“You shouldn’t say that, it is my honor.” Dani returned the bow and settled on the chair across from him. They ordered tea and warmed into some small talk about the weather.
“It is so much colder here, of course. In Shanghai, it only ever gets as cool as autumn in our country, and it seldom snows,” MyungBo said with a smile. Though not as handsome as SungSoo, MyungBo had a woodsy attractiveness in his umber eyes and baritone voice.
“Oh, how I should like to see Shanghai,” Dani replied naturally, without thinking. She liked how he had said “our country,” that he’d been everywhere in the wide-open world where she also longed to go, and that he was warm, simple, and unaffected in all his mannerisms. He was so modest that he nearly blushed as he struggled to bring up the true purpose of their meeting. She broached the subject first.
“With regards to that matter, which you could not specify in your letter for reasons of discretion, I am ready to lend you my support in whatever way I can.” She gazed significantly at his warm, weary face.
“Thank you for such a clear pledge. It is so taxing to ask of a stranger, and a woman no less . . .” he muttered, looking down at the table as to avoid her dark and dazzling stare. Then he explained, in fits and starts, that there were several simultaneous “initiatives” being planned all at once, both in the peninsula and abroad. The leaders of separate activist groups and militias across Manchuria, Primorski, and even the United States and Hawaii were attempting to create a unified center in the form of a provisional government in Shanghai. Meanwhile, in Korea itself, there was an effort to bring together the various factions led by the Cheondoists, the Christians, the Buddhists, the Nationalists, and the Communists, in an unequivocal declaration of independence at a single moment.
“All of these efforts take a considerable amount of resources, to feed and arm our soldiers and activists, to have offices and safe houses, print the pamphlets and manifestos, transport the people across the border, bribe officials and get people out of jail, and for a hundred other reasons. I am constantly straining to discover new sources of funds,” MyungBo said apologetically. His cheeks crimsoned like a child’s, which was unexpected and touching in someone so grave and dignified.
“My friends have all but abandoned me, and even my younger brother refuses to see me. Among my family, only my wife and my son have stayed by my side.” He smiled a bittersweet smile, and Dani felt herself smart just a little, as if she’d been jabbed with something sharp.
“Speak no more. I understand. But do you see, you’ve met just the right person.” She smiled reassuringly. “The rich are ever so much more willing to spend their money on courtesans than on the cause. Luckily, the courtesans have more heart than they do. I can round up the five courtesan guilds in Seoul. I am the leader of one and know the heads of each of the others. No one is better suited to convince them than I am.”
“Truly, I am overwhelmed.” MyungBo looked up at her with a joyful expression, and she also felt her spirits soaring. “Yes, I have met the right person, at last.”
On the way home, Dani reflected on these words and MyungBo’s expression as he uttered them. She wondered anxiously whether they had a hidden meaning or were innocently spoken. In the deepest part of her heart, she sensed that there was some significance there besides the relief at finding a willing supporter. This thought came to her as a strange new delight after the onslaught of depression caused by SungSoo’s letter. It occurred to her that SungSoo’s moral laxity was what made him both available and less appealing; conversely, MyungBo’s integrity kept him aloof and more worthy of admiration. As she reflected she took in the snow-covered streets, blue-gray in the shade and brilliant gold in the afternoon sun, and thought it was all more beautiful and alive than usual. She felt younger than she had in a long time—perhaps even years.
*
ONE AFTERNOON, there was a quiet knock on their gates and Jade went out, expecting to see JungHo’s familiar face. Instead, she was greeted by a handsome gentleman who asked her politely whether her aunt was home. Jade went back inside to announce the visitor, and Dani put on her coat and went outside.
“You didn’t reply to my letter,” SungSoo said to her, without any superfluous greetings. He was wearing a fashionable hat with a medium brim and a new coat of the finest English wool. A fresh scent of cologne and good health emanated from his robust, well-fed body, but his face wore a sorrowful expression.
“I hope you know how sorry I am. I should never have left you here and gone to Japan . . .” he continued, feet firmly planted on the ground, as if demonstrating his steadfastness. Above his head, bits of snow were starting to float around like dandelion fluff. They were so weightless that their descent seemed to take forever.
“You do look very sorry judging by your expression,” she replied. “But you know what gives you away? Your voice. It doesn’t sound sorry at all.”
She turned around and was about to walk away when he grabbed hold of her hand. He pulled her firmly, spinning her round to him and placing his other hand behind the small of her back. Then he kissed her.