COMpound, the Korean business girls have a life of their own. They gossip and play huatu, Korean flower cards; they visit the public bathhouses with their friends; they smoke cigarettes and eat chop. The fact that there was a temple in Itaewon shouldn't have surprised me. A place to worship Buddha would fit right into the business girls' routine.
But what surprised me most was that I didn't know about it. Maybe none of them wanted to tell a GI about their secret temple. I didn't blame them. We Americans have a habit of ruining everything that's good.
Sooki wound through the alleys like an expert. I wasn't sure if we could trust her, but with only a minute or two until our rendezvous, I had no choice but to take a chance on her. I didn't have to explain this to Ernie. He was alert. Watching for a trap.
Up here above Itaewon the lanes became even narrower and darker. Even the clangs of rock and roll from the main drag faded into silence. All I heard was heavy breathing and our footsteps sloshing through the mud.
Finally, Sooki stopped and crouched at the corner of a tall stone wall. I squatted down next to her and she pointed, whispering. "The Dream Buddha," she said. "That's His temple."
"The Dream Buddha?"
"Yes. We call him Maitreya."
I'd read about Maitreya. The Buddha of the Vision of the Coming Age. A Buddha who has not even been born yet in his human form but who still manages to help mortals in the here and now. It makes sense when you think about it. All Buddhas are eternal. Neither the future nor the past is a barrier to their will.
Ernie and Herman crouched next to us, breathing heavily. I peered around the wall.
It was a small pagodalike temple. Made of wood, painted blue, with red and gold filigree along the tile of the layered roofs. A few candles shone inside, illuminating a gold-plated Buddha. His enigmatic smile beamed out at the world. The odor of incense wafted through the gentle rain.
"Nobody's there," Ernie told me.
"They're here," I answered. "Somewhere."
Herman motioned for us to keep quiet. "Listen," he said.
We heard creaking in the pagoda. Up high. Through the mist I saw another stone wall, looming behind the pagoda, almost as high as the highest roof.
"Somebody's up there," Herman said.
"Sounds like it," I answered. "Okay. They want us in the temple, so we go in the temple. Me and Herman. Ernie, do you think you could work your way around behind?"
Ernie chomped on his ginseng gum. "Can do easy."
"Good. That'll give us an extra measure of safety if they try anything."
A high-pitched moan sliced through the rain.
We all froze, looking toward the top of the temple. Sooki shivered, rubbing her bare arms. She stood. "Sooki go now."
Herman grabbed her elbow and yanked her back down. "If you mess us up," he told her, "I'll come looking for you. You alia?" You understand?
Sooki swallowed and slowly nodded her head.
"Good." Herman released his grip and Sooki rose and trotted down the dark lane.
Ernie waited until her footsteps faded. "Scared the shit out of her, Herm baby." There was admiration in his voice.
Herman grunted.
"Come on," I said. "Let's get this show on the road."
"Right." Ernie scurried off through one of the side alleys, happy as a drunkard in a saki factory. There was nothing like the prospect of violence to brighten up his outlook on life.
Ernie'd spent two tours in Vietnam. Driving trucks and hiding in bunkers from rocket attacks and buying vials of heroin from the snot-nosed boys who sold it through the wire. And he'd run the ville there, too. But Vietnam was a lot more dangerous than Itaewon. Bar girls turning tricks at night and selling military secrets in the morning. Still, Ernie loved it. The lying, the hatred, the intensity.
When I asked him about the Vietnam War he said, "There will never be another sweet one like that."
After Ernie's footsteps faded, I slapped Herman on the shoulder. "Looks like you and me are going to have to talk to these assholes."
Even
But what surprised me most was that I didn't know about it. Maybe none of them wanted to tell a GI about their secret temple. I didn't blame them. We Americans have a habit of ruining everything that's good.
Sooki wound through the alleys like an expert. I wasn't sure if we could trust her, but with only a minute or two until our rendezvous, I had no choice but to take a chance on her. I didn't have to explain this to Ernie. He was alert. Watching for a trap.
Up here above Itaewon the lanes became even narrower and darker. Even the clangs of rock and roll from the main drag faded into silence. All I heard was heavy breathing and our footsteps sloshing through the mud.
Finally, Sooki stopped and crouched at the corner of a tall stone wall. I squatted down next to her and she pointed, whispering. "The Dream Buddha," she said. "That's His temple."
"The Dream Buddha?"
"Yes. We call him Maitreya."
I'd read about Maitreya. The Buddha of the Vision of the Coming Age. A Buddha who has not even been born yet in his human form but who still manages to help mortals in the here and now. It makes sense when you think about it. All Buddhas are eternal. Neither the future nor the past is a barrier to their will.
Ernie and Herman crouched next to us, breathing heavily. I peered around the wall.
It was a small pagodalike temple. Made of wood, painted blue, with red and gold filigree along the tile of the layered roofs. A few candles shone inside, illuminating a gold-plated Buddha. His enigmatic smile beamed out at the world. The odor of incense wafted through the gentle rain.
"Nobody's there," Ernie told me.
"They're here," I answered. "Somewhere."
Herman motioned for us to keep quiet. "Listen," he said.
We heard creaking in the pagoda. Up high. Through the mist I saw another stone wall, looming behind the pagoda, almost as high as the highest roof.
"Somebody's up there," Herman said.
"Sounds like it," I answered. "Okay. They want us in the temple, so we go in the temple. Me and Herman. Ernie, do you think you could work your way around behind?"
Ernie chomped on his ginseng gum. "Can do easy."
"Good. That'll give us an extra measure of safety if they try anything."
A high-pitched moan sliced through the rain.
We all froze, looking toward the top of the temple. Sooki shivered, rubbing her bare arms. She stood. "Sooki go now."
Herman grabbed her elbow and yanked her back down. "If you mess us up," he told her, "I'll come looking for you. You alia?" You understand?
Sooki swallowed and slowly nodded her head.
"Good." Herman released his grip and Sooki rose and trotted down the dark lane.
Ernie waited until her footsteps faded. "Scared the shit out of her, Herm baby." There was admiration in his voice.
Herman grunted.
"Come on," I said. "Let's get this show on the road."
"Right." Ernie scurried off through one of the side alleys, happy as a drunkard in a saki factory. There was nothing like the prospect of violence to brighten up his outlook on life.
Ernie'd spent two tours in Vietnam. Driving trucks and hiding in bunkers from rocket attacks and buying vials of heroin from the snot-nosed boys who sold it through the wire. And he'd run the ville there, too. But Vietnam was a lot more dangerous than Itaewon. Bar girls turning tricks at night and selling military secrets in the morning. Still, Ernie loved it. The lying, the hatred, the intensity.
When I asked him about the Vietnam War he said, "There will never be another sweet one like that."
After Ernie's footsteps faded, I slapped Herman on the shoulder. "Looks like you and me are going to have to talk to these assholes."
Even
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