Marilyn and Me by Ji-Min Lee

Author:Ji-Min Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2019-06-03T12:41:51+00:00

The Return of the First Ghost

Evening of February 16, 1954

My name is Alice.

“Hello, Joseph.”

The man who gave me that name is walking up to me, his pale face emerging from darkness, his jaw as strong and his eyes as sharp as ever. He smiles. Our connection, which was abruptly severed four years ago, bridges that span instantly.

“You’re not surprised to see me.” Joseph sounds a little disappointed.

I’m not. I never doubted I would see him again. “I was waiting for you. For a long time.”

“You’re still so …” Joseph catches himself before he says “beautiful.” “Alice, you’re so thin!” He looks at me with alarm.

“And you’re as dashing as ever, Mr. Missionary. God’s keeper, am I right?”

He nods, unfazed by my jab.

“Looks like you’re not hiding your identity tonight.”

Joseph remains calm. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go inside.”

“Are you the intelligence officer who’s been wanting to question me?”

Joseph goes to the jeep and opens the back door for me. “I’m here as your friend before anything else. I’ve always been fond of you, Alice.”

My supposed friend, with whom I had a passionate affair, is being formal. I try to gather my thoughts. This isn’t the Joseph I knew. Well, I guess I never knew him in the first place. I have so many questions for this handsome American intelligence officer who befriended me while pretending to be a missionary. I shouldn’t be angry; I vow to be grateful that I can now find out what actually happened.

The jeep speeds through the dark. The wind is forceful. We get out in front of a Quonset hut. It’s warm inside. The place is outfitted with an overstuffed couch and a furnace. Joseph sends away the MPs who accompanied us and turns on all the lights. I can tell from his expression that I look even more grotesque under that bluish light.

“Are you here with Marilyn Monroe?” I ask.

He nods noncommittally.

“Why are you here now? You must have heard about me from Hammett.”

“I’ve been in Tokyo this whole time. I’ve been hearing how you were.” Joseph comes over and guides me by the shoulders to the couch. His touch is still light and gentle. “I wanted to come and see you last year when I heard you’d gone to meet Hammett, but I wasn’t able to. I’m glad you went to him for help, Alice.”

I stare at him. “I remembered your old friend when I got back to Seoul. These days you can’t even be a beggar without connections.”

“Your English has gotten so good.” Joseph smiles.

“Of course it has. I had a great first teacher,” I say sarcastically. “You don’t have to look at me like that. I know what you really are, so let’s stop pretending.” I purse my lips and touch my rust-colored hair. “I don’t hate you. I know I was the foolish one. I only discovered who you really are quite recently. I found a letter on Hammett’s desk with a picture of me inside the envelope, so I knew it was going to you.

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