Slave Again

by Alana Terry

  Benjamin planted himself down, his bulk threatening to demolish the dainty cushion Juliette perched on to preen every morning. “I’ve come to make confession.”

  Roger raised his eyebrow. “You know it’s the middle of the night, don’t you?” He studied the way Benjamin’s hands rubbed the tops of his thighs. “But if it’s going to help you sleep better, then go ahead.” He forced himself to keep his eyes open.

  Benjamin gazed into his lap. “I slept with Eve.”

  Roger scratched at his bald spot with one hand and ran the other across his stubbly cheek. Slept with Eve? Roger’s Korean was pretty good by now, but he still ran over the words in his mind just to make sure he had gotten them right. He cleared his throat, aware that he wasn’t as awake as he should be for a conversation of this magnitude, especially one in a foreign language. “Slept with Eve? Just now?”

  Benjamin’s shook his head, reminding Roger of a massive horse swishing his tail from side to side. “Long time ago.”

  “So why are you telling me?” Roger knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the question left his mouth, but he couldn’t take it back. What did Benjamin expect this late?

  The security guard curled his shoulders even closer to his chest. “She came again. Tonight.” Roger heard the catch in Benjamin’s throat and wished to cough for him.

  “So you were together in the past, and she thought it might be fun to spend some time together again. And you ...”

  “Forced her out.” Benjamin stopped rubbing his pants legs and started tapping his knee which bounced rhythmically.

  Roger thought about his housekeeper. Beneath a sharp and somewhat angular exterior lay an obvious feminine allure, easy to catch the eye of a young man like Benjamin. “That must not have been easy.”

  Benjamin shook his head once more. His brow was sweaty. “I didn’t want her to go.”

  “You didn’t want her to go, but you knew she couldn’t stay, so you did the right thing and sent her out.”

  Benjamin held his large palms open. “I hurt her.”

  Roger leaned forward. “Hurt her feelings, you mean?”

  “No. I pushed her. Made her fall.”

  “Where is she now, then?”

  Benjamin shrugged. “Her room, I guess. Didn’t see her after that.”

  “Well, then, she’s probably not injured too bad. Physically at least.” Roger stared at Benjamin’s reflection in the dresser mirror and noticed his back trembling.

  “I’m awfully sorry,” Benjamin remarked.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “For that. It was before I was baptized.”

  Roger shook his head once to get a little more oxygen flowing to his brain. “You weren’t even saved. It makes sense you would have acted that way. I can see how that might make living and working in the same house together somewhat awkward, but you have nothing to apologize to me for. Now, if you caused our housekeeper to fall and break her ankle so she can’t cook us Saturday brunch tomorrow, then I might be a little upset.” Benjamin made no response to Roger’s attempt at humor. Roger sighed. “Tell you what. It’s late now. I’m not thinking clearly. We could talk about this all night long, but I probably wouldn’t make very much sense. This sounds like something you need to deal with between yourself and God. Why don’t you go back to your room, spend some time in the Word, and tomorrow after brunch, we can talk about it more.”

  Benjamin scrunched his face up. “I guess.”

  Roger thought back to when he was saved right out of college, the temptations that assaulted him as soon as he confessed his beliefs, the late nights alone in his room with only his memories, his thoughts, his fleshly desires. He put his hand on Benjamin’s shoulder once more. “Here’s another option. If you don’t want to go back to your room just yet, head to the den. You can pray and study there, hopefully without as many distractions.”

  Benjamin nodded, his eyes almost rising to meet Roger’s for the first time that night.

  Roger held the door open. “Good luck, Brother.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Even after several weeks living with the Sterns, the ticking from the stately grandfather clock made Mee-Kyong cringe each time she tried to fall asleep. The Round Robin had been noisy, customers coming and going at all hours of the night, and the pedestrians and taxi cabs polluting the days when Mee-Kyong tried to rest. Here at the Sterns’, that incessant tick was the only sound to be heard at night, lying to its listeners that all was right in the world as it lulled the household to sleep with its deceptive consistency.

  Mee-Kyong gritted her teeth and wrapped her arms over her head so they covered her ears. Why did everything at the Sterns’ have to be so tidy? Life wasn’t tidy. And no matter how serenely that old clock clicked away time’s passage, she wouldn’t let it fool her. She thought back to the night sounds from Camp 22 — girls shrieking in their sleep, harsh and angry whispers between rivals vying for the better spot on the cold concrete floor. It was only the newcomers who ever cried, though, keeping their neighbors awake with their pitiful mewing. She squirmed underneath the thick comforter. When she escaped with Pang, she never expected she would prefer the familiar sounds of the over-packed girls’ dorm to the meticulous ticking of a fancy antique clock. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  In the labor camp, she hadn’t realized she was miserable. You ignorant fool. How could she miss those girls in the dorm, now that she was fed amply three times a day and given a whole closet full of fashionable clothes? How could she long for girls she never really knew, girls who might already be dead, when here at the Sterns’ she was doted on and smothered with attention? She scowled. What kind of commitment had she given Mrs. Stern? Now that she had proclaimed faith in the American’s deity, what would they ask of her next?

  She dressed herself in the dark. It didn’t matter what they demanded. She knew how to keep her patrons happy. Whether the currency was in flesh or scribbled verses, it made little difference as long as she got what she needed. She placed her hand on the door frame. Why did her bedroom always feel so stuffy, even as winter crept upon them all? The air was thick with poisonous doubts and fears. She tiptoed down the hall. She would copy that entire Bible of theirs ten times over if it meant keeping her position here.

  Mee-Kyong had survived this far. And she certainly wasn’t about to quit now.

  ***

  Benjamin wasn’t used to spending vast amounts of time with the Lord. His prayers were the kind conjured up in the moment of need or guiltily recited at the end of the day. Tonight he lowered his head to his lap and begged for forgiveness. Mr. Stern had acted like Benjamin hadn’t done anything wrong. What did he know? Had Mr. Stern ever had a half-clad young woman come tapping on his door in bare feet in the middle of the night? How could a godly man like Mr. Stern experience such an overwhelming swell of desire that his blood pressure continued to rise even half an hour later? When he first committed himself to a life of purity, Benjamin expected the Lord to erase his body’s memory. Where was the deliverance the Sterns were always talking about? Where was the freedom? Almost a year after his baptism, Benjamin was still here, his stomach nauseous with the intensity of his own longings.

  “Oh.” It was a timid sound, but it sent Benjamin flying up off the couch, blinded by the sudden brightness. Mee-Kyong stood in the doorway of the den, her hand raised to the light switch. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.” She looked around with a frown. “What are you doing?”

  Benjamin glanced at his palms, which he held open like a culprit caught in the middle of a crime. “Just reading. That’s all.”

  “In the dark?” Mee-Kyong’s voice held the slightest trace of bemusement.

  “What about you?” Benjamin shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s late,” he added lamely.

  Mee-Kyong sat down at her desk. “I couldn’t sleep. I decided to get some extra work done.”

  Benjamin watched her pull out her notebook and pen. “I’ll go.” He scratched the
back of his neck but made no move to leave.

  “No, stay.” Mee-Kyong crossed her arms and looked up at him. Her smile was crooked, mischievous, mocking. She didn’t open her notebook. “So you like to come here and read in the dark?”

  “Tired of my room.”

  “I can understand that,” she muttered. “Well, since you’re here, maybe you can tell me what’s expected of me now.”

  Benjamin looked up. “Now?”

  Mee-Kyong tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Now that I’m a Christian, or whatever it is you guys call yourselves.”

  Benjamin laughed mirthlessly. “Ask Mrs. Stern.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I will. But I want to hear it from you. You’ve been here, what, at least a year?”

  “Little over.”

  “And did you ‘get saved’ right away?”

  Thinking about his arrival at the Sterns’ opened the gateway for a flood of other unwelcome memories. “Something like that.”

  “Why?”

  The pointedness of the question startled Benjamin. He snapped up his head. “Why what?”

  “Why did you go along with it? I mean, did you genuinely believe, or was it just that you wanted a place to stay, or what?”

  Benjamin’s head drooped once more. “I believed,” he muttered into his chest.

  “And that’s all?” Mee-Kyong folded her arms and leaned back in her chair.

  Benjamin shrugged. “Got baptized later.”

  “That’s when they put you under the water, right?”

  Benjamin nodded. His cheek tickled.

  “And did it work?” Mee-Kyong stared straight at him.

  “What work?”

  “Washing your guilt away. Did it do it?”

  Benjamin pressed his lips together. “All Christians struggle.”

  “So it didn’t work.”

  “Didn’t say that.”

  Mee-Kyong turned her face away, twirling her hair with her pointer finger. “No, but it’s what I figured.”

  ***

  Eve’s only regret was that she couldn’t get into Mee-Kyong’s room again to grab more clothes. Oh, well. She stuffed her belongings into one of the small bags she used to carry groceries home from the market.

  Home. Not anymore. She looked around her room. The Sterns’ room, actually. She smiled once to herself when she thought of Mee-Kyong having to clean up after her for a change. She pressed her shoulder where Benjamin had pinched her when he spun her around and sent her away. Wouldn’t it be nice if she were here tomorrow and could show him the bruise? But it was too late for him. Benjamin could have the mansion. He could have the Sterns and their religious fanaticism. He could even have Mee-Kyong.

  Eve was done.

  Her eyes scanned the clutter one last time. Was there anything else she would need? She paused in front of a leather-bound Bible, a gift from Mrs. Stern on some holiday or other. She thumbed through the pages. The book’s spine was still stiff. With a small grunt, she hefted the bag over her shoulder and walked out the door, leaving the book in its place on the shelf.

  CHAPTER 38

  Juliette’s nose reminded her it was Saturday even before she opened her eyes. Saturday brunch. The family tradition began before the Sterns moved to Yanji and continued after nearly everyone left. Eve usually spent an hour or more getting everything ready. Roger would join them before putting in a half day at the office. Juliette breathed in the scent of garlic and onions, imagined the warmth from the oven steaming all the way up the stairs, and thought she heard bacon sizzling.

  She took her time getting dressed, enjoying the slow, lazy feel of the day. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept in so late. She thought of her friends back in the States who held subscription boxes at the opera and pitied Juliette and her “backward” existence overseas. Did any of them wake up to homemade feasts like these? Juliette’s smug smile reversed into a frown, and she remembered Eve. What had she been doing last night in Kennedy’s clothes? Juliette suspected some of her housekeeper’s erratic behavior lately was because of Mee-Kyong. Was Eve jealous she didn’t have Juliette’s full attention anymore? Or did having Mee-Kyong here remind Eve too much about working in the hotel district? Whatever it was, Juliette knew she’d have to bring it up.

  Today.

  After a quick make-up job, Juliette headed downstairs toward the yeasty smell of hot rolls and the fresh-roast coffee Roger loved. The house was surprisingly quiet for this late in the morning. Juliette walked into the kitchen and stopped. Roger stood over the stove, a spatula carefully poised over bubbling batter. “Good morning, Baby Cakes.”

  Juliette immediately noticed the way Roger focused on her forehead, not her eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Making breakfast.” He turned back to the stovetop and flipped over a perfectly golden pancake.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she saw her husband cook. “Where’s Eve?”

  “Gone.”

  Juliette didn’t say anything. Roger passed her a scribbled note. “She left this downstairs.”

  She reached out for the paper tentatively, skimming Eve’s scrawled message before placing it on the counter. “Why would she do something so rash?” Juliette asked.

  “I have a pretty good idea.” He told her about his conversation with Benjamin.

  “And so she just left?”

  Roger shrugged. “Would you want to keep on living here after something like that?”

  Juliette didn’t say anything. She thought about her own past, the lengths she went to after she met Roger to erase all those reminders. “Does Benjamin know?”

  Roger poured more batter onto the griddle. “I haven’t seen him yet. He was up pretty late, I’m guessing.”

  “Sounds like we all were.” Juliette took out a pitcher and mixed some lemonade. “Mee-Kyong hasn’t come downstairs yet, either?”

  Roger sampled a bit of bacon. “Nope. Looks like it’s just the two of us.”

  Juliette laid her head on her husband’s shoulder. “I can think of worse ways to start the weekend.” She sensed her husband’s body tense and looked to the hallway. Mee-Kyong was standing in the entryway, eyeing them both with a small smirk. “Good morning,” Juliette squeaked. She and Roger bounced away from each other, like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

  Mee-Kyong furrowed her brow. “What’s going on?”

  Juliette and Roger shared a quick glance. “We’ll be doing the cooking for the next few days,” Roger answered. Mee-Kyong raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any more questions.

  “Would you like some lemonade?” Juliette reached to the cupboard to pull down a glass. “Breakfast is just about ready.”

  ***

  Benjamin woke up to a tight spasm in his back. He groaned to himself and reached for his pillow. Where was it? He sat up, hunched over to ease the tension in his lumbar region, and realized he wasn’t in his own bed. What had happened?

  Eve. He groaned once. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let himself ... No. He shook his head. Nothing happened. He was tempted, but he remembered sending her away. He had sent her away, hadn’t he? His heart caught somewhere near his throat. He looked around. No, this definitely wasn’t Eve’s room. Benjamin let out his breath.

  Glancing around the den, he recalled his conversation with Mee-Kyong. How late had they stayed up? He was relieved to note she wasn’t still in here. He got up to stretch his back some more. Judging by the amount of sunlight, he had overslept by several hours. He smelled bacon coming from the kitchen downstairs, and his mouth watered. Still, he hesitated. He didn’t want to go down and face Eve. He couldn’t be sure, but he had a pretty good feeling he had used more force than necessary when he sent her away. Was she injured? Bruised? He squeezed his eyes tight as an unwelcome heaviness seeped into the empty space in his stomach.

  He squatted down on the ground and started his morning push-ups — a habit from his special military training he had never outgrown. He focus
ed on his breathing and wondered what would have happened to him if he hadn’t met the Sterns. Would he have tried to go back to see his family? He thought about the toothless old man who hired him to track down an illegal immigrant and wondered if he would have supported himself by turning in his own countrymen. Twenty minutes later, his muscles amply warmed up, Benjamin gave his body one final stretch and headed downstairs. He had hidden in the den long enough.

  ***

  It was one of the quietest meals Mee-Kyong could remember having at the Sterns’. Benjamin kept his face to his plate and was so bent over he looked like he was impersonating a boulder. Mr. Stern munched one bacon strip after another, while Mrs. Stern poked her plate with her fork. She would look around every now and then to steal a glance at Benjamin, her eyes full of questions and compassion, and open her mouth only to fill it with another small bite of eggs.

  “Well.” Mrs. Stern punctuated the word as if it were a sentence in and of itself. “I guess we’ve had enough pancakes. I’ll go see if the rolls are ready.”

  While she was out, Mee-Kyong glanced over at Benjamin. Their late-night conversation in the den was by far the longest they had shared together, but if that meant anything to him, he only showed it by shoveling more pancakes into his mouth.

  Mrs. Stern returned and dumped a bun on each of their plates. “I’m sorry we don’t have any extra butter. I’ll go get some from the market later today.” She sat and exchanged a quick glance with her husband. “So.” Mrs. Stern wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin embroidered with tiny purple flowers and looked directly at Mee-Kyong. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  Mee-Kyong smiled and took a sip of lemonade. She reminded herself that if she went through the initiation tomorrow, she could enjoy hot brunches like this every Saturday for at least the next year.

  Mrs. Stern leaned forward in her chair. “Are you nervous?”