You Must Be Mistaken

The tap on her arm startled her, snatching her back to mundane life. The fantasies in her head inspired by the music of such household names as DJ Dean, Zico, and Mino blaring through her earbuds evaporated instantly as she simultaneously opened her eyes and recoiled from the touch. Confused borderline offended, her coworker, building mate and frequently companion pointed to an empty seat. She shook her head to decline the offer. Instead, she wobbled momentarily while she fixed her mandatory face mask and changed the position that she held the overhead bar. The way that the handgrip had been looped on her wrist had caused her hand to become numb while she had been daydreaming. Her gaze drifted to one of the windows as her companion sat down. The scenery whizzed by in a blur as the metro careened through a dizzying array of countryside, suburbs, and urban sprawl. 

Do I go back or stay here?

The gears inside her head were whirling at 1000 miles per hour. Her coworker studied her face with concern. “Yo, what’s going on? After 6 months, I know that look quite well. What are you thinking about? Hello?! Hey, Earth to Zariyah!” the distinctive British accent sounded so strange, pronouncing American colloquialisms in a desperate attempt to cut through the sudden mental haze of her seonbae. 

As the other passengers, particularly the locals, turned to look at the spectacle, all that the late born millennial heard though was the first line of the autoplay YouTube video on her phone which was in serious danger of being dropped and cracked yet again.

Let’s go back to the early years….

And just like that, it wasn’t 2022 anymore. 

Yes, let’s go back to the years when an unusually somber young girl never lifted her gaze from the ground, knowing well the unhappiness, shame, and loneliness of a child forced to live in the shadow of selfish adults and fractured beginnings. Yes, come, let’s go back.

He had held tight to their hands as they stood outside the underground station entrance. A woman only a few years into her fourth decade of life followed closely behind. The atmosphere was cold in more ways than one. The children, yes even the boy, were dressed carefully and warmly with tights as a part of their foundation clothing layer. Physical warmth was the least of the factors thickening the tension around them, though. He held on to their small hands as passersby did double takes at the ridiculous scene emerging onto the street. The towering man barely past his 25th birthday with pale skin, closely cropped dark hair in the waning days before the vanity of the 21st century took over, and liquid murky pond water eyes hinting at shades of dull chrysoprase and hidden behind ridiculously thick eyeglasses. They marveled at the sight of him and at the darker skinned children he held on to while being flanked by some aging bar girl fresh from one of the many camptowns that had sprung up around the numerous US military installations in the wake of the great war. Regardless, he was oblivious to it all.

She emerged from the underground like a typhoon, coffee hued and enraged , still in her miraculously spotless dining facility cook whites uniform, shoving her way through the crowd that mostly didn’t even reach her shoulder. She honed in on the man with a ferociousness he knew well. Until his female companion stepped in front of him, all of five feet 4 inches tall, even in heels. 

“You take one, you leave one.” The middle-aged woman said slow in painfully thick English. “If the boy no choose you, he stay here.” 

“I know that you did not bring her here !” The younger woman had replied.

“If the boy choose you, then you take him.” The middle-aged woman said again.

The boy, the boy, everyone was obsessed with the boy. 

Then it was over in a flash. 

“You came back! Hi! ”The boy, older by less than two years, cried out as soon as he looked up. 

Within seconds, he had wrenched himself free of his security guard and threw himself against her midsection.

Within seconds, the stone faced man had bent down and swooped the competition’s loser into heavily tatted arms like the slightly chubby pie faced toddler was just a rag doll. 

Within seconds, the middle-aged woman cursed at the younger woman for one of the last times.

Within seconds, the trio was walking away, the younger woman with the boy the much coveted prize slung on her hip still cursing up a storm. 

“Zariyah! Girl, what is up with you?! You’re looking like you’re hypnotized! Do you even know where we are or what year it is?!” 

She opened her eyes as the train came to a stop and followed her work friend off the train. 

They joined throngs of people making their way upstairs and out of the station. Welcome to Itaewon! Mere minutes after they emerged into the clear, slightly breezy day, though, her coworker suddenly swore in the way only a British person can. “Oh bloody hell!! My friend told me, invited me here, and now I am only just remembering!”

Currently, dragged back to the present, Zariyah looked at the Anglo-Indian woman confused to no end as she tried to explain.

“There’s a festival here right now! That means everything will be so crowded and hectic that we won’t be able to leave Seoul to go back home until quite late. So Kakao this guy of yours that wants to meet you so badly and tell him there’s no way to get back in time, so you can get changed.”

“Now, you tell me Shiva? After saying, it was so easy to come here, get our work stuff, and go back home again ?” Zariyah grumbled slightly annoyed. 

Yet she still took out her samsung galaxy to break the news as the two stopped at street food stalls for takoyaki, yakitori, and plastic cups of gin and tonic. It was only just after 3 pm, but they couldn’t make it back home in enough time for her to change out of the baggy sweatpants, oversized tshirt, and crocs she now wore to come meet up by 7 pm, and more importantly, they had already started to drink. No way would she allow her junior to try to go back home alone now. The replies were almost instant.

Come to me. Come to me still. Come with your friend. Come to me, Miss. I just really need to see you, okay?

Sipping her drink and eating her chicken skewer while seated on the curb of the sidewalk in good company, Zariyah agreed and allowed herself to enjoy the parade. Unfortunately, though, the snack was consumed, and the show didn’t last more than 30 minutes, so the women still had so much time to kill before they moved on. Their reason for coming was easily fulfilled, and they would have to take up the remaining time in other ways.

Luckily, Shiva was well travelled, well settled into life as an expat, and always prepared. “That place does Russian food, I think. Have you ever had Russian food?” She pointed out a third floor terraced restaurant.

Zariyah acquiesced with a simple shrug and followed along.

Seated outside despite temperatures dropping in tandem with the approaching sunset, they poured over the menu with heads down. 

“Pelmini, borscht, plov, and khleb brot.” Zariyah muttered without thinking. “We need smetana too.”

“Wait a minute!” Shiva crinkled her forehead. “Are you speaking Russian right now? Didn’t you tell me that you’re American? Since when did hagwons start hiring Russian speakers?”

Zariyah lifted her gaze, raised herself to sit properly instead of leaned over, and casually set her thick, dark, voluminous curly hair free from the usual tight ponytail to cascade down over her shoulders and back without a word. She rang the call button on the side of the table and spoke to the male server, who came to take their order in a way Shiva could not understand. “By the way, do you want drinks? Stoli is so good.” was all she said to Shiva.

They downed a shot before the food arrived, and Zariyah allowed herself to lean back and gaze out across the surrounding neighborhood. The first thing to catch her eye was the mosque with high spiraling minarets. This place had really changed over the decades. 

“This guy hasn’t messaged you back yet? Is he really going to be in Myeong to meet us later?” Shiva once again snapped her back to reality. “Kakao him again and ask what station we’re getting off at so I can figure out how to get us there on time after the waiter charges our phones for us.”

Again Zariyah obeyed her junior, humored her and Kakao messaged the guy again, although she said nonchalantly, “It is not too difficult to get around here even if you are a foreigner, so don’t worry.” before handing over her phone.

“Yeah, it’s going to be really difficult for us to get out of Seoul tonight, so this guy had better not be playing games and have his mind made up by the time we get our phones back!” Shiva insisted.

The food came served by course and Zariyah ladled borscht into bowls with generous dollops of smetana offering the first one to Shiva. Always taking care of others, never accepting any care for herself, a lifelong ambition to earn her keep with everyone she encountered. They ate in silence as the genie in the bottle began to do its job, and a faint smile crossed Zariyah’s face. 

“You should do that more often.” Shiva commented. “Smile I mean. You have such good skin smooth like my used to be Sudanese Saudi fiancé. He always said that it was the melanin and black don’t crack whatever the hell that means, but you would know that right?”

The compliments hung in the air as the pelmini arrived followed soon by the plov. 

“You’re American right? Like the director of our academy Leona told me that you’re American native like Gina and Eric.” Shiva came again from a different angle.

A simple nod sufficed as the senior picked up a plate. She heaped plov on to it before asking. “Do you want any of the sliced tomato or onion?” 

Plates dished up, the mysterious silence settled again.

The sun set behind the mosque’s minarets, and it was time to be on their way. 

Now or never, I guess!

There were no responding messages when Zariyah could again look at the cracked screen of her Samsung Galaxy. Yet, she still began to walk towards to the station. Shiva was on her heels but still uncertain. She was just a casual observer, though. Whatever was going on, the atmosphere was one of mystery rather than excitement or nervousness.

They arrived at the destination station and emerged back into the vibrant Saturday night crowds enjoying street foods and seasonal pop up bars. 

“Okay, so, Earth to Zariyah for the millionth time! Who is this guy? Are you sure he isn’t some catfish, and since when do guys here meet you on Facebook randomly? Where's he supposed to be coming from? Message him again and say we’re here, so he can come already if he’s real!”

"Yongsan, he's at the base in Yongsan." Zariyah shrugged. "You can't exactly tell Uncle Sam when you are leaving or roll out whenever you please. He'll come eventually I'm sure."

Shiva could tolerate no more than 10 minutes standing outside in the autumn chill though.

And so they began to walk around to see the sights, as the much-anticipated arrival continued to refuse to respond. 

“Let’s have the authentic Korean experience," Shiva suggested.

Pop-up bars being all the rage, how can you not do as the Romans do when in Rome?

Two bottles of terra and two bottles of fresh and a pot of fermented stew were ordered. They sat picking at the service bowl of clams in shallow broth with chopsticks. It was something to do while ignoring the elephant in the room. When the drinks arrived, it only got slightly easier to ignore the situation. This was a straight-up stand-up.

“Excuse me please! But is there anyone in here who can call this server back over here and tell these people that they’re going to get sued for killing me with these clams or whatever ?” A voice suddenly called out in English. 

In tandem, Shiva and Zariyah both whirled around to see who the stereotypical rude foreigner was.

“Hey, you’re very loud and rude, so don’t stay here if you are not wanting to have manners and go back to your mom that didn’t beat the rudeness out of you!” Someone called out as they passed by the spectacle. 

The offending man shut up right away as he shot to his feet, puzzlement and confusion evident on his face.

“You said it! You said it!” He insisted as he honed in on the table of the only two non-Koreans at the establishment.

“Yo, man, back up!” Shiva cried out, frantically reaching for her phone. 

To her horror, though, Zariyah sat transfixed. 

“The man is drunk and trying to kill us by the way!”

The drama was uncalled-for and over in a minute, though.

The man halted mid stride and just stood there staring.

The words alluded him at first.

“You….” he pointed a long bony finger at Zariyah. 

“Do you think we’re escorts or something? Foreigner woman is always easy?” Shiva unlocked her phone nervously ready to activate the SOS app in a nanosecond.

“You….” the tall café au lait hue man not yet in his 30s repeated his words perfectly clear. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Slowly and hesitantly and again to her coworker’s absolute horror Zariyah erected herself to full height and close to meeting the man’s gaze eye to eye stood expectantly.

“Do you know this drunk guy that’s about kill us?” Shiva revealed that they could speak and understand English with the lack of tack that follows newly minted young adults into their 20s. 

“What does the day September 8th mean to you?” The man asked.

“It’s the day I was born.” Zariyah remained oblivious to the clear and present danger of being accosted by drunk american guys at nearly 10 pm on a Saturday night.

“How do I know that if you never told me before?” The man queried as his aggression dissipated.

“You have some beautiful eyes.” She noted as she struggled internally for a response to his question that made sense. 

“And why do you like my eyes?” A relieved smile flashed briefly across the man’s face.

“Yeah, let’s call the police now before you agree for us to go anywhere with this creep because you’re a sucker for the light eyes. ” Shiva again attempted to interfere.

“And why do you think she is a sucker for light eyes?” The man’s smile grew bigger.

“Cuz she’s crazy and we’ve been drinking since about 3 pm after we stayed outside of CU drinking till 4 am this morning after work last night, maybe?” Shiva was now at her friend’s side. “I know judo you know, so why don’t you piss off already?”

“One day…..” The man started to say.

“We’ll be together again one day. Just me, Little Sister, and you too Mommy, right?” Zariyah finished the man’s sentence tipsily. "You might have mentioned it once."

The skinny little boy’s huge deep set perodite eyes behind bifocals staring intently at the computer’s screen, more than 15 years ago, he had whispered a simple prayer. Alert and curious he had noticed when the little girl on the other side of the screen turned to someone partially hidden off screen and whispered something with words he had long since forgotten the meaning of. 

“What did she say?” His mother had demanded to know.

“The answer is no.” A harsh voice had said firmly in accented English.

“What did she say?” Mommy had insisted.

“She said she wants to know if she can be with you and the boy." The obscured voice grumbled. “Neither he comes here nor she goes there. I don’t care if Mother and I are dead for a hundred years. That link to you will never again bring terror and turmoil to my family."

Then the screen had gone black without warning, never to light up again.

And so now firmly grounded in the present reality, Zariyah turned now and walked away with a look of detached dullness.

She had been missing those eyes since her father last closed his at the beginning of the pandemic. She would know them anywhere. And yet even so she felt there was no other choice. The misery, the sadness, and the oh so familiar hollowness of childhood rejection's enduring pain.

“Sorry.....you must have me mistaken. Come on, Shiva. Let’s see how close we can get back towards our gu on the trains before we have to start trying to flag down taxis.” 

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