Doris raised her eyebrows as she huffed a faint laugh. “It? Singular? Oh, honey. I regret so many things I wouldn’t know where to begin.” She gave her head a quick shake as she reached for the coffee pot. “Maybe with that last round of sake last night.”
Kono ducked her head with a snort of agreement. Adam had refused to get up this morning, still nursing his own regrets over the sake. “Okay. Bad question.” She thought for a moment. “How did you get started, down this path?”
Doris shrugged, dumping a heaping spoonful of sugar into her coffee and stirring vigorously. “Paths branch, kid. But, if you’re asking me how everything began, well, Hmm.”
Doris was quiet, looking at her hands cradling the small porcelain cup. Kono began to think she would brush the question off, when Doris took a deep breath, looked up and said, “I think it begins because I wanted to be Modesty Blaise.”
The reference confused Kono for a moment, and then she placed it. “From the comic strip?”
“Yep. The very same. Are you familiar with her?”
“Only a few images. Piled dark hair, pointy boobs, lots of leather. And cars. She was some kind of secret agent?”
Doris grinned widely. “Yeah. That’s her.”
“So, how did you go from wanting to being?”
“Well, I never did get the boobs. Or a Willie Garvin of my own.”
“Okay. Funny.”
“This part is boring family history. Sure you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. My dad was a young army officer, stationed in Seoul, South Korea in late 1949. He was there when North Korea invaded in 1950. He survived the rout, running south for Pusan along with everyone else.” Doris paused, and added, “I was born while it was all going on. My mother had no idea if my father had made it when she brought me home from the hospital.”
“Rough.”
“She was an army wife.” Doris shrugged matter-of-factly. “And, he survived. Yay! But, on that panicked retreat, he picked up a lot of Korean. Surprisingly quickly for a white guy in his twenties. Turned out he had an ear and a knack for Asian languages. When his term was up, he left the Army, got a PhD, and became a professor. At George Washington, in D.C.”
“Impressive!”
“Mmhm.” Doris took another sip of her coffee. “Given his background, you shouldn’t be shocked to learn that he did a lot of consulting. Army, State, DOD, CIA.”
“No. Not shocked.”
“It all seemed terribly glamorous to me.” Doris looked up and winked, “and a stepping-stone to becoming Modesty Blaise. With his help, I got an internship with the State Department the summer before I headed up to Wellesley. Dad had taken us to Korea several times while I was growing up, twice for a whole school year. So I spoke Korean well, Chinese acceptably, and had a smattering of Vietnamese and Japanese. The State Department, seeing all that, sent me back to Seoul, to intern in the cultural affairs office at the Embassy there.”
Doris paused again, her eyes looking at something far away and long ago. Kono kept still.
“It was 1967. The world was staring to burn. Given my background, I was no hippy. I believed in the American Dream. I believed that we were involved in a titanic struggle, east and west, tyranny and freedom. I believed we lived under constant threat of nuclear Armageddon. I believed all of it. So damn hard. Cold Warrior all the way.”
She looked at Kono then, humor back in her eyes. “I was so damn young. And so easy to recruit.”
“CIA?”
“CIA.”
“Did you come home and go to college?”
“No. I did my level best to become Modesty Blaise. Only the American version.”
“I bet you were good at it.”
Doris nodded. “Damn good.”
Kono shook her head. No false modesty here. Steve apparently came by this trait honestly.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2013-09-01 01:15 pm (UTC)“Do you ever regret it?” Kono asked.
Doris raised her eyebrows as she huffed a faint laugh. “It? Singular? Oh, honey. I regret so many things I wouldn’t know where to begin.” She gave her head a quick shake as she reached for the coffee pot. “Maybe with that last round of sake last night.”
Kono ducked her head with a snort of agreement. Adam had refused to get up this morning, still nursing his own regrets over the sake. “Okay. Bad question.” She thought for a moment. “How did you get started, down this path?”
Doris shrugged, dumping a heaping spoonful of sugar into her coffee and stirring vigorously. “Paths branch, kid. But, if you’re asking me how everything began, well, Hmm.”
Doris was quiet, looking at her hands cradling the small porcelain cup. Kono began to think she would brush the question off, when Doris took a deep breath, looked up and said, “I think it begins because I wanted to be Modesty Blaise.”
The reference confused Kono for a moment, and then she placed it. “From the comic strip?”
“Yep. The very same. Are you familiar with her?”
“Only a few images. Piled dark hair, pointy boobs, lots of leather. And cars. She was some kind of secret agent?”
Doris grinned widely. “Yeah. That’s her.”
“So, how did you go from wanting to being?”
“Well, I never did get the boobs. Or a Willie Garvin of my own.”
“Okay. Funny.”
“This part is boring family history. Sure you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. My dad was a young army officer, stationed in Seoul, South Korea in late 1949. He was there when North Korea invaded in 1950. He survived the rout, running south for Pusan along with everyone else.” Doris paused, and added, “I was born while it was all going on. My mother had no idea if my father had made it when she brought me home from the hospital.”
“Rough.”
“She was an army wife.” Doris shrugged matter-of-factly. “And, he survived. Yay! But, on that panicked retreat, he picked up a lot of Korean. Surprisingly quickly for a white guy in his twenties. Turned out he had an ear and a knack for Asian languages. When his term was up, he left the Army, got a PhD, and became a professor. At George Washington, in D.C.”
“Impressive!”
“Mmhm.” Doris took another sip of her coffee. “Given his background, you shouldn’t be shocked to learn that he did a lot of consulting. Army, State, DOD, CIA.”
“No. Not shocked.”
“It all seemed terribly glamorous to me.” Doris looked up and winked, “and a stepping-stone to becoming Modesty Blaise. With his help, I got an internship with the State Department the summer before I headed up to Wellesley. Dad had taken us to Korea several times while I was growing up, twice for a whole school year. So I spoke Korean well, Chinese acceptably, and had a smattering of Vietnamese and Japanese. The State Department, seeing all that, sent me back to Seoul, to intern in the cultural affairs office at the Embassy there.”
Doris paused again, her eyes looking at something far away and long ago. Kono kept still.
“It was 1967. The world was staring to burn. Given my background, I was no hippy. I believed in the American Dream. I believed that we were involved in a titanic struggle, east and west, tyranny and freedom. I believed we lived under constant threat of nuclear Armageddon. I believed all of it. So damn hard. Cold Warrior all the way.”
She looked at Kono then, humor back in her eyes. “I was so damn young. And so easy to recruit.”
“CIA?”
“CIA.”
“Did you come home and go to college?”
“No. I did my level best to become Modesty Blaise. Only the American version.”
“I bet you were good at it.”
Doris nodded. “Damn good.”
Kono shook her head. No false modesty here. Steve apparently came by this trait honestly.