LONTAR issue #2 Read Online Free Page B
Author: Jason Erik Lundberg (editor)
Tags: Southeast Asian Speculative Fiction
accepted by my kind again, no matter where I go."
Bong-hwa wrapped his arms around her. He caught their reflections in the glass of the empty cage. A trick of the light made it unclear which side of the transparent wall they were on, inside the cage or out of it.
"The park's opening soon," he said.
"Where do I go now? The rest of my family will kill me if they ever see me again. I don't think they'll be as forgiving as my brother."
"I have an idea."
"I can't stay with you, Bong-hwa. This isn't my life either."
"I know. But there may be another option."
*
Bong-hwa had never visited Daeseong-dong. It was a small community of government-subsidized farmers, the only South Korean settlement allowed inside the DMZ. It had taken a couple of weeks for his contacts in the Korean Federation for Environmental Movement to get him and Chon-ji passes to the so-called "Freedom Village," as representatives of the DMZ Forum. Though Chon-ji had been anxious as they waited, the time had passed more quickly than Bong-hwa liked. And now here they were, and he wasn't ready to let her go.
Chon-ji had dyed her hair black to make her stand out less. She'd worn a pair of jeans and a blouse for the same reason, but he pictured her the way he had that first day. He realized with a pang that he'd never taken a photo of her—as if he could ever forget her.
"It's beautiful here," Chon-ji said.
Bong-hwa had lived in cities his whole life, and the natural wilderness here showed how small and insignificant he really was in the world.
On either side of them, away from the rice paddies and crop fields, were 250 kilometers of virgin forest and marshland all along the 38th parallel. Here the separation between South and North was even more pronounced—the North Koreans had long ago stripped the forests on their side, leaving a barren wasteland just beyond the Demarcation Line.
"In Choson they say there's an impassable wall dividing the Korean peninsula," Chon-ji said. "I suppose they spread the lie to keep people from trying to escape to the south. But there may as well be a real one here."
"Those kinds of walls cause more harm than good," Bong-hwa said. South Koreans might feel safe and free for it, but the North Korean people were prisoners in their own country.
Chon-ji closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "It smells like home."
"Choson is just a couple of kilometers that way. You could make your way there if you wanted. Soldiers wouldn't stop you." The sight of a tiger crossing the border would give them something to talk about though. Bong-hwa could make out another small village across the fencing and barbed wire: Gijeong-dong. It was dubbed the "Propaganda Village" because the North Korean settlement was unpopulated—just for show.
She shook her head. "That's just where I grew up. This is where I'll raise my family."
Bong-hwa studied her in surprise. Now that she was out of the loose-fitting gaeryang hanbok, he noticed her belly was slightly rounded.
He did the math. The normal gestation period for a tiger was about three months, so in her human form, the pregnancy would already begin to show.
"Chon-ji—"
"This doesn't change anything. Tiger mothers raise their cubs alone. You've done your part."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"You wouldn't have brought me here if you knew. I'm sorry, but it's what I had to do."
He nodded. During their brief time together they had settled into an almost domestic relationship, while keeping her presence a secret from his intrusive parents. It was hard enough for Bong-hwa, since he'd had a taste of the life he couldn't have. But it also showed him that things couldn't go back to the way they were before he'd met her.
"I'll have even more reason to work to keep this area safe," he said. "Once there's proof that Korean tigers survive here, we'll have more support for preserving the DMZ. You represent the strength of the Korean people, after all."
"No, I think that you do," Chon-ji said.
She
Bong-hwa wrapped his arms around her. He caught their reflections in the glass of the empty cage. A trick of the light made it unclear which side of the transparent wall they were on, inside the cage or out of it.
"The park's opening soon," he said.
"Where do I go now? The rest of my family will kill me if they ever see me again. I don't think they'll be as forgiving as my brother."
"I have an idea."
"I can't stay with you, Bong-hwa. This isn't my life either."
"I know. But there may be another option."
*
Bong-hwa had never visited Daeseong-dong. It was a small community of government-subsidized farmers, the only South Korean settlement allowed inside the DMZ. It had taken a couple of weeks for his contacts in the Korean Federation for Environmental Movement to get him and Chon-ji passes to the so-called "Freedom Village," as representatives of the DMZ Forum. Though Chon-ji had been anxious as they waited, the time had passed more quickly than Bong-hwa liked. And now here they were, and he wasn't ready to let her go.
Chon-ji had dyed her hair black to make her stand out less. She'd worn a pair of jeans and a blouse for the same reason, but he pictured her the way he had that first day. He realized with a pang that he'd never taken a photo of her—as if he could ever forget her.
"It's beautiful here," Chon-ji said.
Bong-hwa had lived in cities his whole life, and the natural wilderness here showed how small and insignificant he really was in the world.
On either side of them, away from the rice paddies and crop fields, were 250 kilometers of virgin forest and marshland all along the 38th parallel. Here the separation between South and North was even more pronounced—the North Koreans had long ago stripped the forests on their side, leaving a barren wasteland just beyond the Demarcation Line.
"In Choson they say there's an impassable wall dividing the Korean peninsula," Chon-ji said. "I suppose they spread the lie to keep people from trying to escape to the south. But there may as well be a real one here."
"Those kinds of walls cause more harm than good," Bong-hwa said. South Koreans might feel safe and free for it, but the North Korean people were prisoners in their own country.
Chon-ji closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "It smells like home."
"Choson is just a couple of kilometers that way. You could make your way there if you wanted. Soldiers wouldn't stop you." The sight of a tiger crossing the border would give them something to talk about though. Bong-hwa could make out another small village across the fencing and barbed wire: Gijeong-dong. It was dubbed the "Propaganda Village" because the North Korean settlement was unpopulated—just for show.
She shook her head. "That's just where I grew up. This is where I'll raise my family."
Bong-hwa studied her in surprise. Now that she was out of the loose-fitting gaeryang hanbok, he noticed her belly was slightly rounded.
He did the math. The normal gestation period for a tiger was about three months, so in her human form, the pregnancy would already begin to show.
"Chon-ji—"
"This doesn't change anything. Tiger mothers raise their cubs alone. You've done your part."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"You wouldn't have brought me here if you knew. I'm sorry, but it's what I had to do."
He nodded. During their brief time together they had settled into an almost domestic relationship, while keeping her presence a secret from his intrusive parents. It was hard enough for Bong-hwa, since he'd had a taste of the life he couldn't have. But it also showed him that things couldn't go back to the way they were before he'd met her.
"I'll have even more reason to work to keep this area safe," he said. "Once there's proof that Korean tigers survive here, we'll have more support for preserving the DMZ. You represent the strength of the Korean people, after all."
"No, I think that you do," Chon-ji said.
She
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