by Mike Denver

  

  

 I met him on one of the local barstools one Tuesday night.  He was a slightly pudgy, plain  looking sort of fellow, with an average joe haircut and clothes. Just another white guy in his   early thirties.  He was already fairly drunk and beginning to sway when our conversation  began, starting on another scotch and water served by a bartender who had the look of  hesitation when she passed the fresh glass to his unsteady hand.  But he paid her no mind and  started in on his story and his fresh drink simutaneously.

   In keeping with all the other mediocrities surrounding him, our talk had started off with the  two most average questions  known to anyone who has ever taught English in Korea; " So,  where are you from?", and  " How long have you been here?".  I was going through the  motions of making conversation while sipping on  my first lukewarm mug of beer, waiting for  my girlfriend, who  I'd made a date with,  to show up at the bar.  I answered the questions  first, with an unconcious tone of weary cynicism, offering " Well, I'm from Denver, been  teaching here for a little over a
year.", and then started sort of looking past him at the ceiling,  expecting him to reciprocate with something similar.  I barely noticed when he said,

  " Well, I was born in Moentat, and  I've been here since the beginning of Xinsday.".

  " What?", I asked, thinking that he was beginning to slur his words due to his drunken state.  But it'd snapped me out of my bored pose just a bit. " Whatthefuck're you talking about,  man?".  The voice in my head was beginning to beg the question of why and how long I was  going to haveto talk to this drunken loser.  I was starting to look for an out, wondering where Cha-Myong was, and why she was late.

   " Moentat ... I was born and raised in Moentat ... been here since Xinsday ... you know  Moen-tat ... since Xins-day", he repeated more slowly,  with a slightly annoyed tone.

   " Where the fuck is Moentat?", I asked, " Is that Germany ... are you German or maybe  a Swede?".  My confusion was rising, none of his other words were accented any different  than mine.

   He looked at me like I was crazy, as if he was talking to a child. "Where have you been  brother?", he  replied sarcastically,  reaching for apack of smokes on the bar.  I looked   down at the pack and  saw  the symbol of a brand I'd never seen before. The name was  " ManVannen" and the trademark was a simple profile silhouette of a busty woman with no  arms or legs, cigarette in her mouth,  a wispy plume rising from her nose.

   I snatched them from his hand, quickly asking, " Mind if I have one of those butts?".

   " No problem,", he answered, segueing back into his story. " So I was dating this girl, cute  little  Korean gal who was studying ...",

   Lowering my eyes I looked at the manufacturer's label on the ManVannnen's, which  read  " manufactured by  Tam Laysis Guernocco Co., Moentat, Kahlambrica, Phoetember,  01, Warning: Guernocco is reported to bring latent anamnesis de-evolusive states to the   surface of mental  subconscious reservoirs in a high percentage of users".  Even more confused, I slowly began withdrawing one of the normal looking cigarettes from the half empty  pack.

   He'd noticed me studying the label intently, and broke from his story, " Yeah, I know,    they're lousy for 'ya, but everyone's gotta die of something, know what I'm saying?".  He said  as I placed the beige filter end between my lips, " Yeah, so I'm dating this Korean Gal back home for a number of months. Moon-Ta's her name, and  She'd been there studying at  the U of M for a couple years, totally fluent  and all.".

   I was looking more intently at his face now while steadying the cigarette in my mouth and  raising the lighter, flicking the flint switch. He reached down and grabbed a smoke for   himself.  I lit mine and took the first draw, noticing that the flame on the cherry glowed with a  purplish tint.  The smoke tasted a tinge metallic, and sent speed lines racing by my  peripherals, nearly dropping me off the barstool.  "Ha ha, ", he chuckled, " those things are  good, hey? Now yer catchin' up with me.".
 

   The speed lines persisted, giving me the impression that his face was all that I could see at  the end of a long tunnel speeding by the sides of my head.  I looked in his eyes, grayish-blue, and noticed a pattern of equidistant black dots encircling his pupil, set deep into the color  of the iris. " So we were an item for the better part of a year back there in Moentat. 
  She even moved out of the school's dormitories and shacked up with me in my place on the   Ganth side of town.  Then one day, at the very  end of Leptember ... the 32nd I believe it   was, she says to me ' Gemma',  which is my name by the by,", he says with a lopsided grin,  reaching out, grabbing and shaking my limp hand, " ' Gemma, it's time for me to go home for  a visit with my parents.  I'm going to be there for a little more than a little while, and I want you to come with me.  So here I
am, Hello Pusan, South Korea.".

   I found myself sitting there speechless, puffing my guernocco cigarette, the acrid alkaline  smoke filtering through my trachea, lungs, nasal passages and around my tongue which was    strapped for a response. Then, coming to the surface of my space, I mumbled, " Oh yeah,   I'm Mike.".

   " Mike Denver, ", he responded, " It's damn good to meet'cha, even if you aren't much on  the conversational end.".  I managed a dull smile and took a large sip of beer.

   It was at this time that I saw his eyes pass beyond me, over my shoulder, widening as he  grinned and said, " Well ahn-yong, honey.". Swiveling around on the stool, I felt a familiar   hand clasp my shoulder lightly.  It was Cha-Myong, standing behind me.

   "Hi Mikey,", she said sweetly like she always did during the few months we'd been   dating.  " I've been here for a few minutes, but I didn't want to interrupt your conversation  with ...,", eyeing Gemma, " well, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?".

   I exhaled a puff of smoke with relief,. thanking the gods that she'd arrived just in time to  settle this madness and bring me back down to the surface realm of reality.  "Gemma, I want  you to meet my girl, her names Cha-Myong,", I said, grasping both their right hands and   drawing them together for a shake, " Baby, this is my new buddy Gemma," and then with a   farcical look on my face, I told her, " He's from Moentat, and he's been here in Pusan since   last Xinsday.".

    To my shock she giggled and said, " Ohmygod! You're from Moentat? Like Moentat as  in the capital city of Kahlambrica ... Cerst of Quayton City?".

   " That's the place, darlin'", he said with a drunken smile, " Ever been there?".

   Christonthecross! I thought, is she playing along? I reached for another ManVannen, on   the pack of which his hand was resting, and withdrew with a slight wave.

   " No, ", she said, so sincerely that it was beginning to frighten me, "but I've had friends  who studied at he Uni there in Moentat ... I've seen pictures and heard so much ... I've   always wanted to go.".

   I lit my second ManVannen and this time faint purple amoebas with rhythmically waving  cilia like fields of grain of  began floating across the my field of vision.

   " Ohmygod!", she said again, squeezing my shoulder with genuine excitement, " I've never  met a Kahlambrican.  Where do you live in Moentat ... Vanth or Cerst of the river?".

   "Well,", he replied, taking a liberal sip of his scotch, " My parent's estate is CerstWest of  the Tranka, but I have a small place on the lower Vanth side.".  And then, he began speaking  Korean to her in a steady, confident flow.  I felt her grip loosen on my shoulder and looked at  her and saw that she was nodding in complete understanding.  I caught the few random  words that I know, me, you, him, us, her, meeting, going, here, there, ... but for my own   ignorance of the language, didn't begin to get the gist of what they were talking about.  As I'd  done before in a few
other helpless situations, I was cursing myself for not studying the  Hangul-mal any more than I'd lazily absorbed in my 14 months in country.  Doom! I thought  and felt, as I desperately watched their conversation in Korean in a pale of total ignorance.   And in my eyes, the amoebas were expanding a new dimension of space between my mind's   eye and the the lenses of my eyes; sailing towards my brain, giving my visions theeffect of   being in a theater within my own head.

   " Nae, nae, " she giggling in the Korean affirmative, " Nae, Nae.".
Then I felt her grasp  again on my shoulder as she phased back into speaking English, " That would be fabulous, I  would love to meet her.".

   I'd had enough, I made a desperate attempt to break this ridiculous scene.  " Hey, the both  of you must be mad!", I said angrily.  " Where the fuck is Kahlambrica?  I've never  heard of it!  What the fuck is this ridiculous shit about Cerst and Vanth and Moentat, and  Leptember  and  all this other insanity?".  I'd asserted myself, demanded an explanation of the disparity that was beginning to enshroud me.

   Gemma only grinned and gently grasped my forearm closest to him, saying, " Come on  Mike Denver, I'll show you the map once we all get back to Moon-Ta's parents house.   What'a'ya say we all head back for some eats and a nightcap?  Cha-Myong and Moon-Ta   absolutely have to meet each other tonight ... for all I know they've got mutual friends from the  Uni in Moentat.  And lord knows you need a lesson in geography.".

   I spun around to face Cha-Myong, flashing a desperate queue for us to escape this  monster.  But I saw in a second that she was no longer with me, she was somewhere Vanth  of the Tranka, and all she could do was mouth, " Kah-jah!"  - let's go- in Korean.

   I made one more desperate attempt to escape, playing the time card, " Oh,", I moaned, "  But it's getting late!  We certainly can't traipse into Moon-Ta's parent's house at this time of   night!".  And then I made the mistake of grabbing Gemma's arm and looking at his watch, the third fourth hand of which was halfway inbetween the 13 and the 14 ...

   " Don't be daft Mike Denver!", Gemma scolded me, pressing another ManVannen between my lips and lighting it, " It's not even 14'o'clock yet ... hell, it's only 79  past the hour ... c'mon.  I'm too drunk to leap us, we'll take a taxi!".

Part 2 Parallel Lines & Hazy Times