monks ignored me. Figuring, I guess, that as long as they kept an eye on the burlap bag containing the jade skull, they had nothing to fear from me.
I found the little nun squatting on the tile floor of the kitchen. Crying.
I knelt down in front of her and reached for her chin.
'Ul-jima,' I said. Don't cry.
Her wet, crinkled face looked up at me. 'But it's Buddha's money,' she said.
I nodded. 'Yes. I believe you. But that little girl, Mi-ja, she also belongs to Buddha, doesn't she?'
The little nun nodded. 'She does.'
'Then help us escape from here. Help us save an innocent child's life.'
'Escape?' The nun's liquid eyes flashed wide with terror. 'I could never help you do that!'
That's what I was afraid she might say.
'Okay,' I said. 'You don't have to.'
I stood and glanced out the window. The sandy shore that led to the pond had been carefully raked. There had to be gardening tools around here somewhere. I rummaged in a storage shed behind the kitchen and found them. One rake. One shovel. Perfect.
I walked back to the little nun and knelt down again. 'Kokchong ha-jima. Na da halkei.' Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.
I tested the heft of the rake and the shovel. I liked the shovel better.
When I walked back into the main sitting room, I didn't give the first monk a chance. Swinging the shovel in a full arc, I slammed the metal spade into his spine. A whoof of air erupted from his mouth.
Mid-shout, Ernie turned. The monks turned. I tossed Ernie the rake and managed to clobber two more monks before they had a chance to react.
Ernie started swinging. Lady Ahn knocked over a flower vase, grabbed the wooden stand, and clobbered Bo Hua on his bald head.
We fought our way to a paper-covered latticework doorway and smashed through it. Splinters and oil-paper confetti splattered everywhere.
Ernie thrust the rake into the face of one of the guards. The monk screamed and clutched his eyes.
'The bridge!' Ernie yelled.
'No. It's too well guarded,' I said. 'Into the pond.'
Lady Ahn didn't hesitate for a second. She dived, twisting at the last second before hitting the water in order to protect the jade skull. Ernie waded in after her, waving his rake at the enraged monks who followed.
Splashing in up to my waist, I threw my shovel at the closest monk, dived into the water, and swam after Lady Ahn.
The monks floundered in the water, some of them going under and sputtering back up for air.
On the shore, pressing a rag to his bleeding head, stood Bo Hua, shouting orders. Waving his monks back toward the bridge in hopes of cutting us off.
When I reached the far shore, Lady Ahn pulled me to my feet in the slippery mud. Then she helped Ernie up. The pack of monks was crossing the half-moon bridge now, about forty yards behind us.
We sprinted into the tree line.
Ernie shoved branches out of his face, still jabbering. 'You did a goddamn number on that monk, George! No warning, just whomp! I didn't know you had it in you.'
Neither did I. Not until greed stood in the way of a little girl's life.
We emerged onto a manicured lawn with cobbled walkways and statues and more palaces in the distance. Lovers strolled arm in arm. Women pushed baby carriages.
Dripping wet, we sprinted across the lawn and hopped a low wire fence. Lady Ahn hurdled obstacles like a trained runner.
We zigzagged through the crowds, Lady Ahn leading the way, until I realized where she was headed. A tourist bus had just pulled up in front of the statue of Saejong Daewang, the fifteenth-century king who had invented hangul, the Korean writing system.
I glanced back. The monks had broken through the trees and were sprinting straight for us.
The tourists piling out of the bus all wore identical caps and jackets. Each seemed to have about a dozen cameras strapped around his neck. Japanese.
Lady Ahn elbowed one out of her way and shoved another. Stepping up into the bus, she swung her fist and punched the Korean bus driver on the side of the skull. Ernie tossed him down the steps. I managed to slow his fall. Still, he twisted and sprawled face-first onto the pavement.
Lady Ahn stood behind Ernie, shouting at him to drive. But Ernie couldn't seem to get the hang of how to operate the little Korean bus. The monks were so near that I could see the rage in their red eyes. I grabbed the handle and pulled the bus door shut. Two monks slammed into it. I jammed the sole of my foot against the door and held them back.
'Start the goddamn bus, Ernie!' I yelled.
'There's some trick to this ignition,' he shot back.
Lady Ahn ran through the bus, slamming every window shut. Monks started to climb up the walls. Ernie twisted something, pushed a button, turned the key. Nothing happened. He cursed and tried it in a different order this time. The engine roared to life. Ernie jammed the bus into gear, let out the clutch, and it lurched backward.
Reverse. The engine died.
Swearing, Ernie started it again. He rejammed the gears, and this time we leapt forward. The two monks banging on the door had to step back. Others still clung to the side of the bus.
'Shake 'em off, Ernie! They're still hanging on.'
'Can do easy,' he said.
Pedestrians leapt out of the way as we swerved through the park. Up ahead loomed a great stone gate with an upturned tile roof. The five-hundred-year-old entrance to the Doksu Palace grounds.
A low wire fence spanned the round arch. Behind it stood rows of uniformed schoolchildren, lined up patiently behind fluttering banners. Ernie honked the horn. People glanced at us, but no one moved.
Ernie pounded his palm on the horn. 'Move, goddamn it! Move!'
Ernie swerved around more pedestrians, and the wheels of the bus squealed. Finally, schoolchildren pointed and started to step out of the way.
Instead of bursting right through the center of the arch, Ernie aimed the bus for the two-yard-thick stone wall. The monks still clinging to the bus realized what was going to happen. Ernie was going to scrape them off the side. One by one, they dropped off the bus like fleas abandoning a mutt.
Ernie kept blasting his horn. Panicked schoolteachers waved their arms and blew their whistles, trying to shoo children out of the way.
We slammed into the side of the arch with a great crunch. The metal partition in front of us shot forward like shrapnel from a grenade. The last of the schoolchildren screamed and scurried out of the way.
The bus swerved through the open blacktop area in front of the entranceway. Turning the steering wheel madly, Ernie careened into traffic.
Horns honked. Tires screeched.
'Anybody left hanging on?' Ernie asked.
I looked back. One lone monk clung like a pinned moth to the rearmost window.
'Just one,' I said.
I walked back, pulled down the window, and punched the monk in the face.
He fell back, bounced twice on the asphalt, and rolled until he slammed up against the concrete curb.
'No more monks,' I called back to Ernie.
'Pesky devils,' Ernie said.
Lady Ahn sat on a vinyl seat in the middle of the bus, rocking the jade skull, cooing to it softly.
As if it were her own precious baby.
