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The driver pulled up in front of a good-sized office building and steered the vehicle into a parking spot. He checked in with a receptionist at the front desk, and then led me to an elevator. We traveled up to the sixth floor and walked to the very end of a narrow hallway. An elegant door made from expensive-looking wood beckoned. Following a knock on the door, a gruff voice inside produced some kind of brief intonation. The English-speaking grouch who'd driven me here opened the door for me, motioned me inside, and then split.There in the swank, roomy, luxurious office, seated in a high-backed swivel chair in front of an opulent desk, I took in the sneering countenance of Mr. Choi.I was thrown off my game, but only momentarily. "What do you want from me?" I snarled."Sit, Mr. Gustafson," directed Mr. Choi in a calm voice. I took a seat in a chair which faced him, but my steely-eyed glare told him I wasn't backing down from my question."We are still evaluating your situation," he. She pointed it out in silence, signing her intent, and then we started to clamber down, knowing that now we couldn’t talk because of the loud noise of the rapids in the gorge and no longer from fear of us being overheard or scaring some birds.We managed to get up the other side without too much difficulty and hardly getting wet despite our packs. And now, that first night on the move together, we pitched camp again on the far side of the first big river we’d crossed. We stopped just before dusk and I collapsed, my back to a log, and rested. Mataoka poked around in her pack and disappeared silently into the tangled brambles around us. I don’t know how long it took her to put out her snares, as I fell asleep.“How you feeling?” she asked me tenderly in the morning. I slowly opened my eyes to find her round face studying mine intently. The blanket she’d thrown over me sagged as I stretched. It was the first words we’d had since we’d met again. I smiled at her. She had a sweet lilt to her.
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