Gun On My Temple
(14 year old boy with mother in a police station during the Korean War)
The captain
His feet on his desk
Smoking a cigarette
Where’s your scumback communist brother?
I don’t know, Sir.
Where’s your father?
Supposed to be a Christian minister?
North Korean soldiers took him away
Several weeks ago
Didn’t a communist son
Help save his father?
No
Mother said
My brother was an idealist
Not a North Korean communist
Who told you all those lies?
I’m telling the truths, Sir
Mother told me never tell lies
So, my people are all liers
And you are telling the truth?
Captain scoffed
That does it
Go ahead
The captain ordered the policeman
Who was holding a pistol
On my temple
Yes, Sir
The police pulled the trigger
My head jerked
I pictured a bullet
Going through my head
Coming out the other side
With gray matter
But I felt nothing
Then I heard a woman’s voice
My mother’s voice
I turned
Mother’s on the floor
With her hands
Reaching out toward me
With her mouth open
With her eyes round
That night I could not sleep
Question troubled me
The bible tells
God who even looks after lilies in the field
That withers within days
Surly he will take care
Of his people
Then why doesn’t
God take care of us?
His people?
(From 'Sustained by Love thru the Wars', my Korean story, on Amazon)
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