Martoons

Cast of characters

Fred

Dame

Mr Go

*

Fred Pineridge hadn’t slept a wink all night. After his crazy Christmas night out with Max and Mr E, he lay in his own bed back at Good Lucky Apartments pondering his future.

This was it.

* What is it? *

Over the last day or two he’d been putting it off but now the idea hit him like a 20-kg bag of rice: This very day, which the sun would soon illuminate, could very well be his very last in Korea.

It would all be decided by Miss No at their meeting in a few short hours.

* How do you think their meeting will go? *

Deep down Fred wanted to stay in Korea, but he’d learned in life that sometimes the more you want something, the less you get it.

He looked over at his empty red hockey bag sitting crumpled in the closet, and imagined himself soon packing it full of his few belongings.

Then he visualized himself slugging it over his shoulder and breaking a sweat as he headed to the bus terminal.

By day’s end he’d be out of this God-forsaken country.

At 6:05 hrs he was waiting at Lucky Apartments’ bus stop, off to meet Miss No.

He hadn’t seen Mrs Won when he’d gotten up, so he’d shoveled some rice and kimchi down the hatch and efficiently left.

As he boarded the bus and watched riders embark along the way, he was taken by how caught-up they were in their own little worlds. They lived in a bubble.

Most were expressionless; like robots, dulled by a grueling, inflexible daily routine, which started before the sun came up and ended after dark, practically every day of the year.

Conversely, Fred Pineridge had never felt so uncertain about his future. And – oddly perhaps – he found that kind of refreshing and even invigorating.

*

Go stood by No’s desk working the kinks out of his back. “Aigo! That sofa – no good for sleeping. I should have known better.”

He rubbed his palm and fingertips over his stubbly, itchy face and realized he’d better stop by the men’s room and freshen up. He collected the soju bottles off the desk.

“Hey, get up Mr Damion! We must leave now!”

Dame came-to, conducted a cursory survey of the surroundings and stretched uncaringly. He eyed-up the manila envelope, still sitting in the middle of the desk.

Last thing he remembered was Go translating it for him when he must have passed out from its dry content.

Now, with the soju empties clanking in his arms, Go started for the door.

He noticed Dame’s eyes transfixed on the envelope and remarked, “That legal piece of paper cannot change my situation. I cannot believe it. I do not trust courts or lawyers.”

* What will the courts ultimately decide? *

Dame instantly sprung up from the big chair and pushed it under the desk. He did a few rudimentary calisthenics, belched, farted and then quickly left the office with Go.

He followed him into the seldom-used men’s washroom to dump the soju bottles.

“Pit stop,” Dame said. “I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

*

Tomorrow: Miss No leisurely picks away at her breakfast and talks with her mother.