handed her a tin.
'I found a car,' she told us. 'It belongs to a gambler who lost all of his money at the casino at Songni-san. We'll have to buy the gasoline.'
'No sweat,' Ernie said. 'Can do easy.'
Before we left, Ernie loaded up with some puffed rice disks and some dried cuttlefish and four bottles of sparkling apple cider. And another pack of gum, just in case.
The gambler pulled his little Hyundai sedan up next to the curb and flashed us a toothy grin. We clambered in, Ernie riding shotgun, Lady Ahn and me in the back.
The gambler told us his name was Mr. Peik. As he wound through the Taejon traffic, he described how bad his luck had been at the roulette table. We stopped and bought gas. When we rolled onto the Seoul-Pusan Expressway heading north, I paid the toll.
Mr. Peik kept up a steady chatter in Korean until Ernie reached into my overnight bag and pulled out the AK- 47. Peik's hands tightened on the steering wheel, his head swiveled, and his Adam's apple started to bob while his eyes bulged halfway out of his head.
Ernie pointed straight down the highway and said only one word in English: 'Drive '
Mr. Peik, the gambler, stepped on the gas pedal, pressed his nose up against the top of the steering wheel, and kept his bulging eyes glued to the white lines slashing beneath our tires on the pavement below.
We only made one pit stop during the entire trip, this time Ernie bought papaya juice and we drank that down and munched on dried squid tentacles that tasted a lot like beef jerky.
Mr. Peik lived in Seoul, and had no trouble navigating the maze of roads when we crossed the Han River. Ernie told him to take us to Itaewon, so the guy hung a right at the Samgakji Circle, cruised past the Ministry of National Defense, and had to slow for traffic in front of Yongsan Compound, our base camp and the home of the Eighth United States Army Headquarters.
We heard chanting up ahead. I saw picket signs waving. It was then that we realized we'd chosen the wrong route.
'Demo,' Mr. Peik said. Demonstration. He was more concerned now with the angry mob up ahead than with Ernie's AK-47.
He kept rolling forward, searching for a spot to make a U-turn, but we were hemmed in by rows of cars on either side. Most of the vehicles were managing to squeeze past the shouting crowd by decelerating and creeping along in the extreme right lane.
The demonstrators were mostly college kids. They wore white headbands slashed with Chinese characters. A few were inspecting each car as it rolled past, peering in the windows, waving each driver forward.
Mr. Peik kept glancing frantically to his left, looking for a chance to turn around, but every other driver was thinking only of rolling past the demonstration safely, before Molotov cocktails started flying. The other cars wouldn't let him turn.
'An dei,' he said. 'An del' No good. No good.
'What's the problem?' Ernie asked. 'We'll creep past 'em like all the other cars.'
Lady Ahn was leaning forward now, scanning the situation. 'But the students are checking each car.'
Ernie swiveled around. 'So?'
'So all the other GIs are already back on the compound. We are the only car out here with Americans in it.'
I suddenly realized that she was right. That's why the students were searching each car. They were looking for foreigners.
I made out the lettering on some of the picket signs.
'Avenge the nun!' the signs said. 'Be the strong fist of Buddha!' 'Throw out the foreign louts!'
'She's right,' I told Ernie. 'They're looking for Miguk faces.' In unison the students chanted. A volley of rocks flew over the compound gate, clanging against metal roofs on the far side of the wall.
'Looks like we could use some quick plastic surgery,' Ernie said. He shifted in his seat, rolled down the window, and slapped the side of the AK-47. 'Or one of these babies.'
He stuck the barrel of the rifle out the window.
'Knock off the bullshit, Ernie,' I said. 'You don't even have any more bullets. If we're peaceful, they might let us by.'
But it was too late.
Three burly young men, students with headbands, strode down the line of cars. One of them spotted us through the windshield, yelled at his comrades, and pointed. The students forgot about the other cars: They headed toward us.
Mr. Peik started blubbering loudly, pounding his fist on the steering wheel. 'An del An del An del' No good.
Ernie leaned out the window, held the rifle leveled at the students, and shouted.
'Freeze, assholes! Hold it right there or I blow your goddamn skulls off!'
'Damn it, Ernie!' I grabbed for him. He tried to swat my arm and the barrel of the rifle pointed toward the sky.
The students saw their chance. One yelled back for reinforcements. The others charged toward us.
Before Ernie could turn, someone had snatched the rifle, yanked, and jerked it out of his hands. Ernie cursed and leaned out the window, but it was too late. The AK-47 had vanished.
In a moment the students were kicking the doors of our car, rocking it back and forth on creaking springs. With a mighty lunge, the car teetered and almost tipped over. Lady Ahn cradled the jade skull tightly. Miraculously, at the last moment the car rolled back and crashed firmly onto all four wheels.
I started to breathe easier.
Until a baseball bat smashed the front window.
20
'Try to drive!' I shouted, 'Get this thing moving.'
I figured our best chance was to stay in the car, keep it rolling forward, try to break loose from the crowd. But Mr. Peik was a complete wreck. He was crying and moaning, and the little sedan still idled in park, a stationary target for the enraged students now surrounding us.
Ernie reached across Mr. Peik, popped open the door, and began shoving the gambler out of the car. 'Move!' he shouted.
Mr. Peik clawed at Ernie in terror. Ernie propped his back against the far side of the car and, using the soles of his dirty sneakers, kicked the gambler out onto the street. The protesters pounced. But when they realized their prey was Korean, the punches and kicks stopped. By then Ernie had slammed the door and slid into the driver's seat. He popped the clutch: The little Hyundai sedan lurched through the sea of students. We moved like a giant frog, leaping a few feet forward whenever Ernie found a small opening.
Demonstrators swarmed toward us. We were the center of attraction for the mob now. Ernie gunned the engine, ground the gears; swerving, slamming on the brakes, and cursing all the while.
Lady Ahn sat rigidly still, the bag containing the jade skull strapped around her neck.
Glass splintered into the car. Lady Ahn let out an involuntary murmur but quickly composed herself.
'Get down on the floor!' I shouted.
She sat up even straighter. 'No. I will not kneel to these people.'
The road ahead was clogged with students. Those in front-even if they wanted to-would be unable to move because of the surging crowd pressing behind them. Ernie swerved again, a confused bull surrounded by picadors.
Like a tidal wave, the bodies engulfed us. More windows smashed; hands reached into the car. I slapped at them, punched them, twisted them, broke them, but still more hands seeped in. Tentacles from a thousand-armed beast.
