followed close behind him, waving the light over the ground as he picked up twigs and sticks. Waiting for the right moment. He stretched up high, his hand pulling tight on a branch to bring it down, the lamplight flooding his face.
Now, I thought.
“Was it really real, Father, that place in my dream?”
He stopped. His whole body stiffened and his face filled with anger as he stared at me. Then he turned away again, yanking at the branch. “Is that why you followed me down here? To ask me that?”
“No,” I lied.
The branch came away in his hands and he strode towards me, towering over me. “I told you to forget it. There’s nothing to tell. It was a dream.” He turned away.
I shook my head, following him. “That’s not right. There’s something you’re not telling me…”
He spun round, his face in mine, his finger jabbing at me. “I told you, child, to leave it.” For a second I crumbled, frightened of him. Then I took a breath and I looked up.
“I hate it when you call me child,” I spat.
“You behave like one.”
“You treat me like one. Why don’t you trust me and tell me the truth? Tell me whatever it is you’re hiding from me! I’m old enough to know!”
His lips were thin as he stared at me, his chest heaving up and down as he breathed.
“You wouldn’t believe me,” he hissed.
I didn’t move, I didn’t argue, I didn’t say a word. I just waited, watching as his face relaxed and his shoulders dropped, as his head lowered and his eyes closed.
“All right,” he whispered, lifting his head to look at me. “But you have to promise me you won’t repeat a word. Not to anyone. And that you’ll listen, really listen, to what I have to say.”
I nodded. “I promise,” I breathed, and my skin prickled and my lungs felt hot and my palms were sweaty with excitement and anticipation.
“Your dream,” he whispered with a sigh, “that place you saw in your head, it is real, it does exist.”
I stared at him open-mouthed. “It’s Pyongyang, isn’t it? I think, Father, I think, you know, if I work really hard, that maybe He would let me go there, don’t you? If I try really hard? If we all do, He’ll let us go together. Today was a mistake, I was wrong, I shouldn’t have been daydreaming. But…”
He lifted a finger to my mouth to silence me. “Listen,” he said. “If you want me to tell you, then for a minute just listen.”
I nodded again.
“It does exist, and it is just as you saw it. It has enough food for everyone, and medicine if you get ill. It has houses and apartments with bathrooms where you wash and go to the toilet. It has heating where you flick a switch and the room gets warmer.” He lowered his voice further. “And it has shops where you can buy things.”
I stared at him, and suddenly everything felt very serious.
“Clothes. And music, all different sorts. And they have televisions with programmes and channels you can choose. And books with stories, or about different countries and their leaders, who are voted for.”
“We have a leader that we vote for too,” I whispered.
He nodded. “But in other countries,” he said slowly and carefully, “there is more than one name on the slip. They have a choice.” His eyes bored into mine. “One day I’ll take you there. I hope you can live there. Have a future there. Be happy… but…” His voice drifted off and I watched as he lifted up the lamp and scanned the darkness around us, as he wiped his hand across his face and took a step towards me.
“Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Yoora?”
I nodded, although I wasn’t sure. I thought I did, but I didn’t know if I wanted to hear this, didn’t understand how anywhere like that could exist. Didn’t know whether to believe him. Or to trust him.
He sighed, moving closer to me, looking at me so intently. “What do you think to things here, Yoora? Our country? What do you think to our Dear Leader?”
I felt my body stiffen and my back straighten.
“You think he’s fair? Looks after us?”
“Of course,” I replied without thinking.
“You think we should feel this hungry? Or this cold?”
“Why are you asking me that? We’ve got everything we need here. He provides everything. There’s nowhere any better than here, He tells us that… He tells us…” My blank eyes stared into Father’s and I quoted lines I’d known for ever:
“We grow up in the land of freedom
All the little comrades march in rows
Singing in this paradise of peace
Tell me, of what can the world envy us?”
I focused back on him.
“Freedom?” he asked. “Paradise? You think so? Really, Yoora? After what I’ve just told you? After seeing that place in your dream?” He shook his head. “Open your eyes, look around you. If this is truly how you imagine freedom and paradise, then you have no imagination.” His voice was alive with passion and anger. “Are you hungry, Yoora? He’s not, our Dear Leader. He eats Chinese dolphins and French poodles, caviar and sea urchins.”
My mouth fell open at the hatred I could hear in his voice. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I just stood there, hearing words coming from Father’s mouth that I never thought he would say.
I could believe that place was real. I could believe it was in North Korea. I could believe it was somewhere only the most hardworking and loyal citizens were allowed to go. But I could not believe any more than that. Father’s words about the city had made me question him, but these… these made me worry about his sanity.
“Are you cold?” Father continued. “He’s not. He lives in his palace with fires in every room and people to make them for him. Look how thin you are. Think of what he looks like. Has he ever missed a meal? Eaten only corn for a whole week? Gone to bed hungry? No. Is that how it should be? Is that right? Should he live like that while his people are starving?”
My hands flew over my mouth then over my ears. I strode away and then back. I couldn’t believe he dared even think the words coming out of his mouth. I didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want those thoughts and words in my head, corrupting me with reactionary lies, challenging my faith in my country, our Fatherland. What he was saying was a crime against the state, an insult to the authority of the leadership that he could be arrested for. That it was my duty to report him for. That I could be arrested for if I didn’t.
“I’ve wanted to share this with you for so long, what I think, really I have. For years your grandfather’s been telling your mother that you’re old enough to understand and to know not to say anything. But how could I? You had
