Three weeks later:

Detective Kim called to Mrs. Robert Towne and asked her to come to the station. She did and was ushered into his office.

“Annyeonghaseyo, Mrs. Towne. Come in.”

He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. She held her purse close to her body and sat down, hunched over.

“Tea?” He asked her. She nodded yes. He waved at the girl outside the door and spoke some rapid Korean. She hurried away.

“Thank you so much. I understand how difficult this is.”

Shin nodded, head down.

“I had you come in to look over some things we found.” Shin’s head jerked up.

“Found?”

“Yes, some things that washed up on the shore and were brought to our attention.”

The female officer scurried back in with cups of hot tea and sugar. It was on a tiny tray, and she carefully put it on the desk in front of Shin.

Shin picked up some sugar, poured it in the tea and took a sip.

Detective Kim waited with one hand on a large, canvass bag at his feet.

“Okay?” he asked.

Shin nodded.

Kim pulled out the bag and stood up and started to lay things on the desk.

“A hat. One striped cotton shirt. A pair on long, cotton pants; size extra-large.”

Shin fingered the items and silent tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“One wallet.” He carefully laid the last item on the desk. It was still damp.

Shin picked it up with trembling fingers and opened it. She stared at her husband’s Korean driver’s license stuck behind the little rectangle of plastic and wept.

The lady officer was still hovering by the door. Kim waved her away and went and closed the door.

“I am so sorry.” He put a hand on Shin’s shaking shoulder and went to sit down.

“Where, where . . .? “

“The owner of the bait shop actually called us. A fisherman found these and brought them to him, thinking he might know about it.”

“Where . . .?“

“Yes, the shop where, I believe, your husband got his bait and tied up his boat.”

“We have to keep these things for a while as we are still searching for . .  . him. But then, you can have them back.”

She nodded, still sobbing.

“There is one last thing.” Kim paused and looked at her.

He got up, went to the corner and came back with a bamboo rod. “This.”

Shin looked at the rod.

“Was this his too?”

“I think so. I don’t know . . . They all look alike to me. He had so many.”

“And this.” Kim produced a coil of nylon rope and put in on the desk.

“Well, it’s odd about this rod.” The detective pulled on the line which was attached to the end. “There should be a hook and the hook has been torn off.”

Shin nodded.

“The rope also has an end which is sheered or pulled off.” He glanced at her.

Shin shrugged her shoulders.

“That plus the fact that his shoes were still in the boat when we found it, lead us to some conclusions.”

“Conclusions?”

“We think that perhaps he hooked a fish, maybe a big one, and the boat was dragged out to sea, where it was found. Then, maybe, he was pulled overboard. Which,” he glanced at her, “could be why we haven’t been able to find the body yet.”

She erupted into more tears.

Kim stood up. “That’s okay. That’s okay.” He walked over to Mrs. Towne while waving his hand at his girl. “Ella will take you to the front to sign some papers about the clothing and we will be in contact.”

“As soon as you know something,” She looked up at him.

“Just as soon as we know.” He reassured her.

The office girl led the still weeping Shin out of his office. Kim sat back down at his desk and pulled the rod and reel closer to him. He fingered the line and looked puzzled.

Finally, he got up and thrust the rod angrily in the corner and went out to have a cigarette.

                                                                        ###

Two months later, Shin and the girls were down at the marina. She had burned some of Bob’s things and they were in a little urn. They were going to sprinkle the ashes over the water where she knew he liked to fish.

She got down to the wharf, said hello to the bait and tackle guy who gave her a mournful little wave. They got into a little skiff, and she started the engine.

Being from Busan, Shin’s father had had a little boat and he taught her how to start the engine and to steer.

She headed out to sea about a half mile from shore. She felt that was far enough. Pulling the urn from her bag, she unscrewed the top. Each girl took a handful of ash and spread it on the water. She was the last and emptied the urn into her palms. Holding her hands up, the ash was carried away by the wind.

They then said a Buddhist prayer and were finished. They just sat rocking with the water and enjoying the breeze.

“Mom, look!”

Min, the oldest girl, was pointing to the water close to the boat.

Shin looked over the side as both girls rushed to look. She put her hand out.

“Don’t tip us over, okay?”

“Wow, Mom. What a big fish!” Julie cried.

Shin looked. Yes, it was an enormous blue fish. The type she didn’t know.

“Is it going to eat us?”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Shin replied. “I think they eat plants.” Whatever, she thought to herself.

“Wow, it’s so big! It kind of looks like that fish Dad kept talking about,” Min said.

“Yes,” Shin said thoughtfully.  “Yes.”

Yet, there was something about that fish. It had enormous blue eyes that, she could swear, were staring at her. And, it looked, it looked. . . so sad. It reminded her of . . . no, that was foolish. What the hell was she thinking?

She shook herself. “Time to go girls.”

“Oh, Mom. We just got here.”

“I know, but we have things to do. Got to go.”

Rapidly Shin restarted the engine and swung the boat around. The big blue fish didn’t seem to move. It just hung there in the water.

Shin turned her head around and watched the fish until she couldn’t see it anymore.

I don’t think I’m going to come here again, she thought to herself. No, I don’t think I will.

                                                                        THE END