Martoons

Cast of characters

Fred

Donna

Miss No

*

A wind whistled around the parking lot.

The dozens of apartment towers acted as barriers and could magnify any breeze tenfold.

Fred quickly put his jacket on and zipped it up, shuddering as the insulating shell sealed him inside.

Outside his peripheral vision, the white van quickly and quietly pulled up beside him. When it tooted its horn he glanced over half-consciously.

The passenger window was fogged yet he got a deep-seated tingle that something was awry.

Down came the window to reveal a stern-looking Miss No; and beside her was Donna – driving – but not looking over.

Her visual avoidance gave Fred an unnerving vibe.

No gestured for Fred to get in the van’s sliding side door. Feeling like a kid accepting candy from a stranger, he did so and squeezed into the back seat.

He slid the panel door closed and it clicked shut with an eerie finality.

The whole thing had caught him completely off guard. He had the distinct feeling he’d just walked into a bear trap.

*

Up in the front seat, No was uttering instructions to Donna, who waited for a break in traffic and then pulled out onto the road.

* Where are they going? *

Heavy after-lunch vehicle volume was bearing down on all sides and Donna seemed a bit shaky at the wheel.

No sensed it and after a few blocks instructed her to turn down a quieter side street.

Donna obediently did so and then was given instructions to pull over and idle.

No mumbled something to her, held out a handful of change (which Donna waved off), and then Donna got out of the van.

She disappeared into a corner store for something. The mood in the van became decidedly icier.

Fred suddenly felt claustrophobic and became almost neurotic about getting some fresh air into the back.

He quietly flipped-up the latch on the side panel window and pushed it open.

The inch gap allowed a soothing breeze to waft in. He took a deep breath and composed himself. Tension gripped him – tighter than a knot.

No turned to face him: “Fred – I’m sorry. You are fired.” Her monotone voice betrayed a steaming cauldron of repressed emotion.

* Will Fred care about being fired, since he planned on leaving anyway? *

Fred shrugged and struggled to fill the uncomfortable silence. “About this morning … the housewives … the drum dance. It’s totally my fault.”

He chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Miss No, I think I’m chronically culture-shocked. Please try to understand.”

Fred often thought that the average Korean simply could not understand what it was like for a foreigner to live in Korea.

This might be his last chance to say his piece.

“Miss No, do you have any idea what I gave up coming here?

Everything. Job, friends – the few that I had – and all that; but … it’s the little things.

“Like spaghetti! You Koreans eat rice and kimchi at every meal. We Canadian bachelors eat spaghetti.

But over here Ragu spaghetti sauce costs $10 U.S. a jar! It was really hard to give that up.”

He shrugged but didn’t want any sympathy.

“Life here is very difficult for foreigners. Every time I open my mouth and try to communicate with someone in Korean, I have no idea if I’ll be understood or not.

“When I’m back in my room at Mrs Won’s apartment, I can see the bus stop from my window.

Sometimes on weekends if I want to go somewhere, I look out and see a bunch of Koreans waiting there.

“It makes me not even want to go outside.”

“It puts me on edge – whenever I go anywhere, there’s always Koreans whispering to each other, ‘Waygook, waygook!‘

“We waygooks encounter misunderstandings every day. It gets frustrating. It’s physics – pressure builds and builds and you blow.

“That’s the way it is and there’s nothing I or you can do about it. So people like you Miss No – whose business is foreigners – have to cut us some slack sometimes.”

* Will Fred’s speech strike a cord with Miss No? *

As if she’d heard nothing, No turned frontward to retrieve a briefcase at her feet.

“You must leave Korea today. We will soon meet Mr Go and he will drive you to the airport. I am very sorry.”

She hoisted her briefcase up on her lap, clicked it open, and carefully removed a sheet of paper as if it was a specimen and not wanting to contaminate it.

“You must sign.”

*

Tomorrow: Fred makes a run for it.