Bee and Jo

“Upon the Rubble of Life begins more rubble.” T.S. Brock

Bee was a recycler from Seoul, South Korea. In the West, he would be equivalent to the scavenger of aluminum cans and the like, but here in the wild, wild East, in the sing song post-war burnt-out prairies of his previous hometown, practically everything short of edible food was carried off to recycling centers, centers that sunk into the urban landscape like bad poetry.

Splintered metallic jeeps, their parts wrapped ugly and unidentifiable were stacked up in absurd but slightly elegant piles. Artwork by accident at best. They awaited grumbling trucks with gigantic holds. The stationary loader had mantis-like hydraulic grips. It ripped into the sky to feed rusty appliances, car parts and mangled bullet-ridden objects into the trucks’ empty metal pits. One imagines hungry dinosaurs. Crash! The resisting metallic objects dropped into the beds of the shaking monstrous trucks. Such crashing, resounding elegance. Such delicate display of catastrophe. Such a waste of time and life.

Jo befriended Bee because Bee allowed it and it benefited his empty heart. Members of the community would have to measure the plusses and minuses of a relationship between them. Truth be told, Bee was South Korean but had no cares regarding his community. In this way, he was independent. But Jo, she was North Korean and she was sensitive and wounded. Perhaps her pains were greater than his and this made him empathetic. She had survived the war and somehow made it south…maybe she was a miracle.

“Bee… Can I make lunch now?”

“Why do you ask me? You are not my servant.  I’m Bee… Just a normal man Ha!”

“No… You’re Bee… Expert in Junk. What’s that name mean anyway?”

“Bees make honey Ha! No thanks!”

“Ah… What?”

“It means “No thanks!”

“Why are you called “Jo”?

“Ji eye Jo gave me the name.”

“Who the hell?”

“Yah, who the hell…”

“Who the hell gives us theeese cans of meat and… phoey.”

“I’m tired of this canned food… Jo… Let’s make a garden!”

“I know how to do that!” Jo raised her smiling face.

“Don’t ignore me Jo. I want you to be my partner.”

“Yes Bee. We will be partners and make a large garden”.

“Demmit! We will make a wonderful life.”

Jo appeared exhausted but happy. She was unbathed but beautiful.

“So let’s have lunch…” They looked deeply into one another.

Then they had lunch.