Tower of Luck - a story for South Korea

I open my eyes and it is still dark outside and there is an itch at the back of my throat. I turn towards my wife, Sarah, and listen to her breath and watch her wriggle in her sleep. She grinds her teeth and it is not the first time, but I have yet to tell her. I remember something of a dream and I recall my time out east last year on business.

The work was fairly tedious, but on my spare days my South Korean colleague insisted that his younger sister show me around the nearby town and harbour with it’s bustling fish market. My knowledge of Korean only extended as far as ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ and she knew little English, but I listened to the different sounds as she talked and imagined what she was saying. Walking through the tight streets, I looked up at the garish signs for each restaurant and accessory shop and nodded and smiled back at her.

Watching her as we walked between the buckets of wriggling eels in the market I realised how different she was from my wife. Earlier in a café she waited for me to order and followed me to a table, while my wife would always take control. In the evening at a Korean restaurant she giggled as I forgot to remove my shoes at the front door but at the markets she haggled loudly over the price of squid. I found it hard to read her, if she was merely being friendly and if she could sense my softness for her.

A few days later she drove us up into the mountains and we took a trek alongside a river. As we walked in the blazing sunshine she pointed out the beautiful plants and exotic insects as gun shots echoed past us through the valley from the nearby army base.

The river tightened as we rose higher and the stream quickened through the rocks, rushing past us. We stopped and I closed my eyes and thought of nothing but the sounds and smells around me.

When I opened them again she had climbed down the verge to the edge of the water and was piling small rocks on top of each other. She gestured for me to join her and do the same. I later learned this ritual bought good luck, unless the stones were later disturbed. After piling up a tower of three rocks she smiled and gave me a thumbs up and we stood for a moment to admire our good fortune.

After continuing along the river a little further she led me up this steep track up through the trees until we came to a peak. She stopped and pointed out at the breathtaking view back through the valley to the town in the distance and I was astounded at how far we had climbed. She sat us down on a large rock and we did not speak, merely smiling and looking out towards the ocean.

I watched her for a moment before leaning over and kissing her on the lips. They were hard and dry with no give, but she did not pull away. I sat back and she smiled softly at me beore turning back to admire the view once more.

She did not refer to the kiss afterwards, though when I said goodbye a week later I could sense something in her eyes. When I arrived home I told Sarah almost everything. I have thought of her a few times since, at quiet moments, wondering what she was thinking behind that smile.

There is the whir of a milk float outside and I lean forward and kiss Sarah on the lips and they are soft and moist and she kisses me back, but her eyes do not open. I settle back to sleep and think about my little tower of rocks on the other side of the world.