How did she know that word?
'Conquistadors? I don't really know. After the conquest a lot of regular people came. Farmers, priests, merchants, sailors. I don't know if my ancestors were conquistadors or not.'
'But not all of your family is from Spain?'
'No. Part of my family is Indian.'
She pulled back slightly. 'They are the poorest people?'
'Usually. But in some cases they are the only ones who are free.'
'What do you mean?'
'My mother's side of the family, we have much blood of the Yaqui Indians. The Yaqui were never beaten by los conquistadores. They are still free, a separate nation. They've only signed a peace treaty with the Mexican government.'
'So you are one of these free people?'
'Part of my blood is.'
'One of your grandfathers?'
'Maybe a great-grandfather.'
'And was this great-grandfather a chief?'
Has anyone ever been descended from an Indian who wasn't a chief? 'Of course,' I replied.
Lady Ahn seemed to think about this long and hard, holding her gaze on my face. I hadn't a clue as to why it was so important to her.
'Then you are a prince,' she said at last. 'A prince of the people known as the Yaqui.'
I fiddled with my hand towel. 'I suppose you could look at it that way.'
Lady Ahn sat back in her seat, satisfied for some reason.
After a few minutes of silence, however, she sat up suddenly. 'What does Suefio mean?'
'It means dream.'
She smiled. 'That's nice. I like to dream.'
Lady Ahn reached out and squeezed my hand. Her flesh felt as cool as I had imagined. As cool as a mountain spring.
'I like to dream, too,' I said.
When she let go of my hand, I was disappointed. She turned away from me and curled up slightly and gazed out the window.
I let her dream.
Over three thousand islands lie off the coast of Korea. Almost every one of them is inhabited by seafaring people.
Koreans aren't usually thought of as seafarers. If anyone in the West thinks of them at all, it is as rice farmers or merchants or tae kwon do instructors. But Koreans have been sailors and fishermen since before history began. The islands of Japan were settled by Koreans in ancient times. In fact, the Japanese and the Koreans are nothing more than cousins who have been separated for a long time. Their languages have the same grammatical structure, although few words still sound alike.
The culture on the islands off the coast of Korea is a world of its own. People fish, they harvest seaweed from the sea, and they worship ancient gods who have never been banished by any foreign invasions. Not by Buddhism, not by Confucianism, and not by Christianity.
These islands have often been used as a refuge. During the Mongol invasion of Korea seven hundred years ago, the entire royal court moved from Seoul to the island of Kanghua. There, the Koreans negotiated with the Mongol generals, gave up most of their sovereignty, but managed to keep the royal court fundamentally intact.
Before Lady Ahn, Emie, and I reached the coast of the Yellow Sea, our bus crossed a small mountain range. Down the steep cliffs of winding roads were lush green valleys, so narrow and rocky they didn't appear to have ever been cultivated.
We entered a long tunnel carved in granite and when we emerged, the magnificent panorama of a curved coastline opened before us. On the beach near a wooden quay sat the ramshackle blue-tile-roofed buildings of Ok- dong. At the end of the pier bobbed a ferryboat. Beyond that rose the rocky outcroppings of mist-shrouded islands.
Ernie grabbed the back of my seat and leaned forward. 'I gotta piss like a racehorse.'
Lady Ahn pretended not to hear.
'Soon you'll have a whole ocean out there to do it in,' I answered.
'By the time I get through,' Emie said, 'it really will be the Yellow Sea.'
We pulled into the Ok-dong station and climbed off the bus. Ernie made a beeline to the public byonso and I stretched my legs while I waited for him to return. After we had all relieved ourselves, Lady Ahn guided us down the main drag of the city, heading downhill toward the pier.
The farther we traveled from Seoul, the farther back in time we seemed to be going. Here in Ok-dong the road was lined with shops with old metal scales and woven hemp bags bulging with rice, and wooden stalls teeming with mackerel and squid and octopus. The tang of salt air rose up from the ocean and bit into my sinuses.
People gazed at us politely but no one stared. I think they'd seen so few foreigners around these parts that, at the sight of us, all the natives went into a mild state of shock.
Ernie clicked loudly on his gum and strutted down the wood-planked road.
'So where's the beer hall?' he asked.
'No time,' Lady Ahn told him. 'The ferry will leave soon.'
A foghorn ripped through the air. We started to run.
By the time we reached the loading dock we were pretty much out of breath. I pushed my way to the front of the ticket booth and pulled out some wrinkled Korean bills. When the ticket vendor asked me which island, I turned back to Lady Ahn.
'Majimak,' she said. The end of the line.
I turned back to repeat the instruction to the vendor, but she had already slid our tickets forward and slapped a few bronze coins down as my change. We moved toward the loading ramp.
What I saw there made my heart leap. A counter manned by uniformed representatives of the Korean National Police.
Ernie elbowed me. 'You think they received the report of us punching out those cops in Taejon?'
'I don't know,' I said. There was no way around them. 'We'll find out.'
Why would the KNPs have an inspection counter at a ferry loading dock?
Since the Demilitarized Zone dividing Communist North Korea from the South was protected by six infantry divisions and about a jillion land mines, it was a little difficult to cross it whenever you wanted to. As a result, the North Korean commandos often raided South Korea by sea. The offshore islands were the perfect hiding spot for them. The South Koreans had set up hundreds of military bases and thousands of observation posts, the location of which North Korean spies would be delighted to know about. So the offshore islands were a sensitive area militarily. The KNPs checked people out before allowing them to travel in this area.
Lady Ahn stood between Ernie and me. 'Don't talk,' she told us. 'I talk.'
It sounded like a good idea to me.
The Korean police inspector had a sunburned face and bored but suspicious eyes. Those eyes widened, though, when he saw us. He seemed shocked to see such a gorgeous Korean woman with two American GIs.
'Wein ili issoyo?' he asked Lady Ahn, a hint of incredulity in his voice. What business do you have?
Lady Ahn gazed steadily at the policeman. 'My mother lives on Sonyu Island,' she answered. 'I am going to visit her.'
The policeman studied her National Identification Card, looked up, and pointed at Ernie and me. 'And what of these two?'
Lady Ahn wrapped her arms around my elbow and hugged her soft breasts against me. 'I am going to marry this one. He must meet my mother first. The other is his commander.'
Her statement had the desired effect. The policeman's mouth fell open and he jerked back as if he'd been stung. 'Are you registered to consort with foreigners?'
'No.' She pointed at her ID card. 'I'm a student, as you can see. But we are to be married. It is legal for me
