Martoons

Cast of characters

Fred

Mr Go

*

“Okay, Mr Go, where do I sign? Let’s get this done,” said Fred. 

“Just a minute. I can help you find another institute – my friend’s – in another place. Wait please.”

Go got on his desk phone, speedily dialed a number and was soon speaking rapidly.

* Who did Go call? *

“I will send you another foreigner…” he exclaimed into the phone, sounding a little more excitable than usual. Pause.

Garbling from the other end. Go got irritated. Pause. More garbling.

Fred was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable and doubtful again.

He appreciated that Go was going out of his way to assist but this last act seemed to be running into some resistance.

Fred figured it might be best to give Go some privacy to hash things out.

“Me thirsty … drink,” he gestured and when Go didn’t respond, he casually slipped out into the hallway to take one last look around the institute while he got his drink.

He spotted a new water cooler at the top of the circular stairwell. He filled up a little, conical paper cup and took a sip.

“Mr Fred!” Go shouted from the other room. “Come here pali pali.”

The waygook walked quickly back, holding his paper cup out and trying to keep it steady, having only sipped a bit of the water.

“Here Fred, talk to my friend. He wants to make a schedule for you for tomorrow. I will prepare your new contract.”

Fred took the landline. “Hello?”

“Meesta Fled – this is Meesta Kang.”

Go quickly flipped through the paperwork on his desk and reached down to open his top desk drawer to get his ink pad and name stamp.

Yet as he slid open the drawer, the first thing he saw was not the name stamp.

* What did he see? *

What he did see made his heart palpate and his eyes glaze over.

Slipping into a semi-conscious daze he recollected the phone conversation he’d had in the cab early this morning on his way back to Chinju.

Comrade No’s face now flashed before his mind.

He grasped at fragments of what he could remember from the cab ride: He’d been listening to the news; there’d been a story about kidnapping – some rich guy in Seoul – his kid had been snatched.

Comrade No over the phone had asked him about it. Then things got hazy but presently he recalled that he’d been issued an order by Comrade No.

When the correct timing presented itself, he’d gotten out of the cab (fuel tank empty) and jogged into town (took about 30 minutes); he’d stopped at the Raw Fish restaurant … gotten himself a coffee from the machine (as he’d done a thousand times before) and lit up a smoke …

With the chemicals coursing through his brain, he’d sauntered up to Raw Fish’s main window and peered in.

Closed of course. The deep inside of the restaurant was dark, yet the front was visible merely from the daylight.

Comrade No’s order reverberated through his head. Go’s glazed-over eyes glanced around and he spotted a broken cinder-block nearby, which he retrieved.

* What was her order? *

Moving up to the Raw Fish main front window – directly behind were all the aquariums – he stepped back and dispassionately flung the cinder block chunk through the glass.

There was not a shred of malice going through his mind – he was dutifully carrying out a military order.

Similarly, his throw had no reckless, destructive abandon: Comrade Go was concerned not to disturb any of the fish tanks of live fish.

Miraculously almost, upon impact the bigger shards of glass and the cinder fragment fell inside without even grazing the tanks.

The flat fish flopped around innocuously in their tanks.

Go briefly observed them and felt calm and then his view scanned to his main point of interest: A thick-density cutting board sitting just inside the window, blond in colour with a scent similar to pine.

Sitting atop it were two sashimi sushi chef knives – a 325 mm stainless steel one and a shorter 210 mm version.

Go did a quick calculation and deemed the shorter version to best suit his purpose.

* And what would that purpose be?… *

He carefully reached through the smashed-away space circumferenced with horrid, jagged points of splintered window pane.

Carefully directing his hand inside, he clutched the wooden handle of the knife and delicately removed it.

Concealing it under his jacket he quickly strolled away.

There were neither passers-by nor onlookers at this early hour.

The clock was ticking though and within a minute a siren was audible – yet our Comrade Go was a safe distance away.

He stopped momentarily; clutching the sushi knife under his jacket, he hunched over and caught his breath. He was dizzy and struggled to keep his balance.

He’d carried out the first part of Comrade No’s order: He had the knife now. He was to proceed to the institute.

Wait for Fred to return from the beach. Carry out the solution.

* The solution?… *

*

Tomorrow: Mr Go’s mind gets toyed with once again…