Sweet Nothings

This is really amazing because the character in the story inspired me by appearing in my dreams. And I wish she returns too....

Sweet Nothings

There was a place nearby where they took classes in speaking and writing Korean. I was working in the embassy and was required to pass a certain grade in order to represent in the South Korean Ministry

Mrs. Wong was one of the few who taught Korean in our city. She was demure, her voice gentle yet one that commanded attention. Her coaching methods were outstanding, with the delicate language being interpreted in surprisingly effortless ways by us with her guidance. There were a few 7-8 odd students with me attending the course.

She lived with her husband, who had retired from working at the embassy in India. Mr. Wong knew me, as I had joined shortly before he retired. He never spoke much to me, or to anyone else of that matter. Always keeping to himself, he rarely joining the banquets and occasional parties at the office, preferring to rather finish his book at the coffee lounge, where he sat alone for long hours in his free time.

Mrs. Wong had kept a recitation lesson for us that day. It was about a visit to a university lecture on global warming. We had to narrate the points of the writer, what he learnt from the presentation, the facts, et cetera. My mind occasionally wandered as other students read aloud their assigned paragraphs.

My eyes suddenly darted to the open door. There was somebody in the corridor. I knew it wouldn’t be her husband, he was probably out of town or in his study room. Mrs. Wong had nobody else living with her in the house.

I assumed it was some handyman, who had come to probably fix something in their house. It was a rather old villa, and the maintenance was stupendous thanks to the ministry’s help for their employees.

My eyes focused back to my book, but not for long. The person passed again through the corridor, and went down the stairway.

It was a woman. Her dark, straight hair and her dull grey gown was all I could make out from her back. Maybe Mrs. Wong had gotten herself a maidservant. After all, the house was big, and she was getting old. She needed somebody to help her.

I stood up next and read out my passage rather inattentively.

The class ended. We walked down the stairs, the students asking the teacher a few doubts, spellings, pronunciations, and the lot.

The woman was there, sweeping the floors and dusting their carpet. As I had assumed, she was their maid.

Her hair, the feature that struck me first, was long, sleek and black. It was like silk on black velvet. Her eyes looked down, barely making contact with anybody or anything in the room. With soiled hands, she continued her work.

“Mrs. Wong, I see you have someone new to help in the house.”

“Oh yes. She’s Dae. She came here with her brother Seung. They’re in search of a job here. They lost all their land back home. We know their family; we’re of the same village and clan. She’s helping me around in the house until she gets her job. She wants to be a cook.”

“That’s lovely.”

“Certainly. We’re looking out at any vacancies in the continental foodjoints for a kitchen-help. She doesn’t know to speak anything other than Korean, but she will learn fast. I try teaching her a few things too.”

I nodded, as I kept looking at her. She was unusually attractive. Her body was lean, a little weak and impoverished, but her face young and beautiful. Her features were innocent. Perhaps she hadn’t seen much of the world. I wanted to take a look at her evading, mysterious eyes.

I finally caught her attention. She looked up abruptly, then cowered her head and resumed her job.

That moment seemed like time without end. Her eyes were slender, dark, beautiful. I delved into the depths of her abyssal, black irises. A feeling overwhelmed my senses, a connection so deep I failed to explain what it was. That moment was sacred, so pure, so untainted. It was a feeling from the soul, a subconscious knowing. An absolute stranger seemed like a love I had known for years, generations, centuries, eons. And all this encapsulated in that tiny moment.

“I feel sad for her and her family. Her parents are in really poor health. My cousins back at home try to help them as much as they can. She also had a sister, whose whereabouts are unknown.”

“What happened to her?”

“We fear she may be dead. Or being exploited. She was kidnapped by flesh traders.”

A lump formed in my throat. It hurt me to hear such news.

“Many Korean girls end up that way here. They all get dragged into prostitution. I fear for her safety. She is at such a tender age, in such an unknown place, unable to speak with the people here.”

Some part of my mind grew heavy with worry. My heart was pained. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to be with someone who would care, protect her. Instinct drew me towards her even more.

She looked once more, and I managed to give a smile this time. She looked away, possibly flushed, or in distaste. I didn’t want to lose her. My mind was getting overly protective, even possessive.

I had to leave. It would be very awkward to stay back just to talk with Mrs. Wong about Dae. I said my goodbyes and left.

I walked home on the cold tarmac, my mind thinking constantly of the look in her eyes. Her gaze in that diminutive timeframe had etched itself in my heart. It was a soul connection, a subconscious knowing of love.

I had to help this girl. Immediately after reaching home, I called up a friend of mine who worked in the hospitality sector. I told him of an excellent Korean cook who could work anywhere as long as she felt secure. He asked about her skills and qualifications, and I had to convince him that she would just require a bit of language training. And I wanted her to work with other women, just for peace of mind & security.

“That’s a hell of demand you’re putting.”

“Please, you got to help me get her a job. Its important.”

“You’re strange as always man. Fine, I’ll look into it.”

I felt some relief knowing there was something I could do.

Dae. Her name was just like her, rare, chaste, beautiful. Lying on my bed, I thought of her as I slowly drifted off into sleep.

The next few days I had no idea what Mrs. Wong was teaching. All I did was look out to catch a glimpse of her. After classes, I walked back slowly, trying to meet her. It was pointless, for I wasn’t going to have a conversation with her, nor was I going to greet her or get her anything. We felt so disconnected and yet that attachment persisted, pulling me towards her magically.

It was sweet nothings. I just looked, and her eyes mesmerized me as before.

My mind was lost. Nothing had disturbed me so deeply ever in my life. I felt like it was destiny, us being together. She meant nothing to me, yet she was inseparable from my life. I anticipated for our few moments, each passing minute killing me again and again. It was a fire breathing inside me, it burnt me when she wasn’t around and gave me warmth on seeing her.

Mrs. Wong spoke to me a little more about her life. Her brother Seung was unhappy with the money she was getting working as a help in the Wong villa. He had come several times asking for more, even threatening to leave her job.

“I don’t get it. I treat her like my own child, feed her, clothe her, help her pay for the family’s needs, I send the money drafts myself through the bank to her village. But her brother is acting strange. Why is he complicating the situation, I do not understand.”

A week had passed. I received a phonecall that weekend. It was my friend whom I had talked to earlier about Dae’s employment.

“Well, I spoke to this woman downtown. She really wants to run a Chinese-something style authentic restaurant and is drooling over my offer of getting an actual village cook and her recipes to run the kitchen. She’s got the job. Get her ready to speak English in a month. Let the chef decide the décor and menu until then.”

I was overjoyed. I wrote down all the details and decided to call up Mrs. Wong straightaway.

“Mrs. Wong? I have great news for you. A restaurant is ready to accept Dae as a cook. She is an influential and well-to-do restaurateur. I’ll give you the details…”

“That’s really nice of you, but she’s gone.”

“She’s gone?”

“Yes, her brother got tired. He decided he needed our help no more. So she left the job.”

“But…but where could they have gone?”

“He left in rage. I don’t know where they might be right now. I doubt if they’ll ever return either.”

I was devastated. Keeping the phone in the cradle, I leaned against the wall. I had to do something. Somehow I had to find her and change her fortunes.

I made inquiries the following day. I learnt her brother was a construction worker at a nearby land developing site. A few men claimed to know him.

“Do you know the man? His name is Seung.”

“He was this Chinese-guy…Never spoke much English. Got the job done most of the time. We don’t know where he was from, where he lived.”

“Who would know?”

“Ask the labour union head.”

The head of the union was the supervisor of all work. He appeared busy.

“You aint supposed to be here wearin no hat.”

“Sorry, but you got to help me find a man named Seung.”

“Ha, that weird Korean. He’s probably drunk now at some brothel. Never showed up much at work. Glad we got rid of him.”

“Where did he live?”

“He spent most of his time at the brothel. He’d end up on the pavement several times too. Why does he concern you?”

“Never mind. Thanks for the information.”

I walked away without waiting for his reply.

My worst fear was coming true. He must have sold his sister to a pimp. My chest felt like a knife had been stuck there forever.

The brothel owner wouldn’t speak up. He wouldn’t tell. All he told me was that Seung had gone to some other city, and the girl’s location is unknown. The client took her away with her. They weren’t going to inquire on her whereabouts either.

And that was it. I had lost her. In the end, it was nothing but a mirror that broke into shards, the darts cutting through my heart. She was gone.