"Red tag"

I woke up to an empty bed. Tae Jae was gone. I jumped out of bed and was about to race down the hall, when Tae Jae entered the room. I stopped and smiled.

"Good morning, Karen."

"An-nyong-ha-se-yo. I was a little worried."

She smiled, "I okay. Some strange man is lying in front of the bathroom . . ."

I peeked out the doorway. It was the one I palmed last night. I don't think I hit him hard enough to kill him. I saw someone come up the stairs.

They gave him a swift kick.

My lover of American women jumped up and grabbed his jaw, his knees seemed to fail him. He grabbed the other man's arm to steady himself.

The other man jerked his arm away, and stormed back down the stairs. I ducked back into the room and shut the door.

"Something wrong, Karen-san?"

"No, not at all. Ready for our journey."

She nodded.

I placed my caftan on and slipped my sandals on. I walked over to the blankets with our stuff, and made one blanket into a purse. I placed the pistol, Ahab gave me - it was an Eagle 44, heavy six-shooter out of Israel, into the purse. I looked around to see what else I could take and realized there wasn't anything. I slung the tied end over my shoulder. "We'll leave the rifle. It's worthless to us now." Damn I wish there were more I could do! "Ready?"

She nodded.

I looked back into the room one last time and closed the door. Forward and onward I told myself. We walked out the hotel and down the street. It was about eight in the morning and the streets and sidewalks started filling up with tourist and vendors. I flagged down a taxi. It had the words, 'PETIT' stenciled on the side.

"Where you go?"

"Bus station."

"Okay." He opened the door.

"Three dirham." I stated.

"No, five."

"What!" I slammed the door.

He drove off leaving us in a cloud of dust. I flagged another one down. He stopped and I told him the same thing. To my surprise he opened his door. We climbed in, he sped off into the crowd, missing several people. A minute later we stopped in front of a dismal looking site. There was a bench with lots of people waiting. An old building was in the background. Someone was sitting behind an open window with the words, 'BUS TICKETS'. I gave them three dirhams and thanked him. We got out, bought tickets and waited like the other people. We waited one hour with old men, old women, and young kids. The bus finally arrived, stopped, and opened up its doors, the driver took our tickets and Tae Jae and I stood in the middle of a crowded bus for three hours. The sun was high in the sky when we got to Marrakesh. We got off the bus. I walked over to the CTM bus ticket window and bought two tickets.

"When is the next bus to Casablanca?" I asked.

"Four hours."

"Four hours!?!"

"Yes, four." He held up four fingers.

I turned around, "Damn!"

"What is it Karen-san?"

"We have four hours to wait."

Tae Jae just said, "Oh."

We sat down on the ground next to the building and waited.

"Tae Jae?"

"Yes . . ."

"How did you get here?"

She seem to drift. Her eyes shun and her shoulders slump. "I work at bar. I red tag."

Red tag. "Oh."

She was a prostitute. There are five types of women in korea. The first is middle and upper class. They're educated or married to an educated man. Their rights are almost equal to the males and can work "normal" jobs and own businesses. They have no worries. The second, is the poor class. They do a lot of the hard work. If they're married to a farmer, manual labor is a staple of their diet. The males of the poor class wield a heavy hand and have power. They usually eat first, sleep in beds, and generally work less. The women are the menials, taking care of the kids, cooking, and help work the fields. It is a very rough life. The other three classes may include the poor, middle, or upper class. They become "working" women for various reasons. The first is called 'yellow tag'. They work in bars, usually as bar maids and bartenders. The main purpose is to keep men happy while they drink. They'll dance, get drinks, hold conversations, tease - a lot of teasing - just generally be there. That is it. The second is called, 'black tag'. The standard hooker, the street walker. They prostitute because the bars either won't allow them to work there - they may have a venereal disease, or they have no other skills, maybe not enough, to earn a decent living. When service men enter Korea, the first thing they are told is to stay away from the street walker. More than likely they carry some form of VD, and the strain could be a nasty one. I've seen the films on men who were unfortunate enough to capture the bad strain - they are not allowed to enter the United States again. The last is called a 'red tag.' This one works in bars and will perform the functions of a 'yellow tag'. She, at one point, was either a run away, or an outcast. She had to leave home or was dumped for some reason. A Mama-san, usually the owner of a bar or manager, will take them under their wing. They will be given a room to stay, they will be fed, and clothed. At this point, Mama-san literally owns them. Most of the women work for Mama-san because they want to. It is rather exciting - meeting men from all over the world, dancing, talking, making love and possibly finding a husband - the life of a 'red tag'. The yellow tags may do the prostitution part, however, they keep the money, if they ask for money at all. For the red tags, Mama-san gives them a room, a place to stay. To afford the room and Mama-san hospitality they have to earn money after hours. Being a bar maid doesn't pay enough for the room and their clothing. They are simply being pimped. Mama-san may not be mean, just business minded. She will usually get ninety percent of their earnings, remember, the women have to pay for room and board, and once that's paid off the girls usually stay because it can be 'fun', and the pay is very good.

I grabbed Tae Jae and hugged her. "Do you like being a red tag?"

She shook her head. "I have to give Mama-san my money. She helped me out and I must repay her. Rent is 100,000 won a day . . ."

" . . .12 dollars a day."

She nodded. "I get from Mama-san 130,000 won per week. She take twenty dollar from GI for short range . . ."

"Short range?"

"One shoot . . ."

"Okay." Twenty bucks for a few minutes of whistle wetting.

" . . .and forty for long range . . ."

"All night."

"Yes."

"And drinks?"

"I get . . .let me see . . . ," she started ticking, mentally, items off her fingers, " . . .on liquor, Mama-san give me one hundred won, on juice I get fifty won."

"How much do you owe Mama-san?"

"I owe Mama-san . . .", she took her finger and wrote in the sand, "one zero zero zero zero zero zero."

I looked at it, did some quick figuring. 8000 wons to the dollar that comes to, "You owe Mama-san 1250 dollars."

She nodded.

I sat back, "Do you like Mama-san?"

"Mama-san is good. She take good care of us."

"Do you miss your mother and brother?"

She looked down and nodded. Tears started to roll down her cheek.

I lifted her face up with my hand, "I will help you, Tae Jae."

She smiled, "I like you, Karen-san," and snorted up some tears. She hugged me, hugged tightly.

I whispered in her ear, "I like you, too, Tae Jae." and held back my own tears. I broke away and smiled meekly, "First we have to get to an embassy.", Then, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Do you have a bank savings?"

"Yes, 20,000 won, I save to pay Mama-san off."

My smiled broadened, "Good, now I know I can help you."

She gave me a questioning look.

"You'll find out soon."

"Okay."

We sat and waited in silence until the bus pulled up. We got on and found our seats. The bus was greyhound like. It had nice seats, and air conditioning. The further north you go the better the accommodations seem to get. I sat back and stared out the window. I took the aisle seat and gave Tae Jae the window. I reached up and turned the air condition on. The blast of cool air was a relief, my spirits soared. I breathed out heavily and relaxed. Tae Jae placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed lightly, I reciprocated. A moment or two later I was asleep.