Chapter 7: Departure

January 3, 1919.

It was the day before departure.

Lee Jun-hyuk was finishing packing his last belongings.

Two trunks were packed to the brim.

Clothes, books, medicines, and various documents.

Knock knock.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and the landlady Auntie entered.

“I heard you’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’m setting off early in the morning.”

Auntie pushed something forward.

It was a bag with sandwiches.

“Take these to eat on the ship. The trip to the harbor is a long one.”

“Auntie…”

“Oh, it’s nothing. You’ve worked hard all this time. Being in a foreign country at such a young age…”

Auntie’s eyes grew moist.

“My sons would be about your age now. If only they had come back from the war…”

She trailed off.

Lee Jun-hyuk felt he understood her heart.

She must have looked at him and thought of her sons.

“Thank you very much for everything.”

“Come back healthy and well. And if you succeed, come back and show off to our boarding house — that someone who left our home became a big success.”

The two shared a smile.

But behind their smiles, a tinge of sadness lingered.

***

In the afternoon, he went to see Kim Young-soo.

“You’re leaving already?”

Kim Young-soo sounded disappointed.

“I wanted to spend more time talking.”

“I’ll keep in touch from Cuba. And…”

Lee Jun-hyuk handed over a business card.

It was a card made by Morgan & Associates Trading Co.

“Oh, already a manager!”

“Since I’m in charge of the plantation, they made it like this.”

“That’s great. You’re really becoming a businessman now.”

Kim Young-soo pulled something out of his drawer.

“Take this with you.”

It was a small notebook.

“I organized contact information for the Chinese Community in Cuba. People I know, people they know. I wrote them all down. It might help you.”

“Thank you so much.”

“And this…”

Kim Young-soo handed over an envelope.

“It’s an amulet. My mother made it. Supposedly good luck for merchants.”

He opened the envelope to reveal a small fabric pouch with prayer beads.

A Chinese character was written on it.

“Thank you. I’ll carry it with care.”

“Make sure you succeed. Only then will we have hope.”

Lastly, he visited Kim Bong-seok, the old man.

The pharmacy still smelled strongly of herbs.

“You’ve come.”

The old man welcomed him warmly.

“Tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, finally leaving.”

“You’ve thought it through. You must challenge yourself when you’re young.”

The old man pulled out something wrapped in silk.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a seal. It’s one I used to use.”

It was a wooden seal.

The character “信” was engraved on it.

“It means trust and faith. The most important thing in business.”

Lee Jun-hyuk accepted the seal carefully.

“The seal of an elder… I…”

“Keep it with you and return it later. By then, you’ll have your own seal.”

He understood what this meant.

The seal would be returned when he was recognized as a legitimate merchant himself.

“I will. I will succeed and return it.”

“That’s right.”

The old man stood and patted Lee Jun-hyuk’s shoulder.

“It will be hard. There will be times you want to give up. But…”

The old man’s gaze was deep.

“Every time that happens, think about why you started and what you’re aiming for.”

“Yes, I will remember.”

It was already evening as he left the pharmacy.

Street lamps were beginning to light up.

It was his last night.

He had been here since November 1918 — just over two months.

It had been a short time but filled with many events.

And many people he had met.

Mr. Morgan, Thomas, Kim Bong-seok, Kim Young-soo, Auntie Landlady.

All benefactors he had met in a foreign land.

“I won’t forget.”

His steps felt heavy as he walked back to the boarding house.

Tomorrow, he would leave.

For a new challenge.

January 4, 1919, 5 a.m.

The sky was still dark.

Lee Jun-hyuk was already awake, making his final preparations.

He hadn’t slept well last night due to nerves.

He checked his trunks once more.

Passport, contract, money, letter of introduction.

He put all the essentials in his bag inside the trunks.

So if he lost the trunks, the core items would be safe.

In his pocket was a gun.

Its weight felt heavy.

Still unfamiliar, but as Thomas had said, he thought of it as ‘insurance.’

He looked out the window.

Snow was falling lightly under the streetlamp’s glow.

January in New York was cold and lonely.

“You’ll be going somewhere warm soon.”

January in Cuba would be the exact opposite.

Knock knock.

“Are you awake?”

It was the landlady Auntie’s voice.

“Yes, I am.”

When he opened the door, Auntie held a steaming mug.

“Have some coffee before you go. I made it warm for you.”

“Thank you.”

He accepted the coffee.

It was strong and hot.

His body warmed instantly.

“Did you call a taxi?”

“Yes, it’s supposed to come at 6.”

“Good. You need to be on time. Don’t miss the ship.”

Auntie seemed about to say more but stopped.

It seemed difficult to say goodbye.

“Well then. I’ll help with the luggage.”

The two carried the trunks down to the first floor.

Waiting by the entrance, the taxi arrived shortly after.

It was a Ford Model 7, though converted for taxi use.

“Where to?”

The driver asked.

“Brooklyn Dock, Pier 3.”

“Understood.”

They loaded the trunks and got into the car.

“Take care. Stay healthy.”

Auntie waved her hand.

“Thank you. Truly.”

The taxi departed.

Looking back in the rearview mirror, Auntie was still standing by the door.

Her figure grew smaller and smaller, stirring a pang of regret.

The New York streets at dawn were quiet.

Only occasional milk wagons or bread delivery trucks passed by.

All the shops were closed, and the streetlamps cast light on the empty roads.

Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.

The view of Manhattan from above was magnificent.

As the eastern sky brightened, the silhouettes of the buildings gradually appeared.

About thirty minutes later, they arrived at the dock.

Many people had already gathered.

Travelers with large suitcases, immigrant families, sailors.

“S.S. Orizaba?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked a nearby staff member.

“Yes, that’s right. Boarding is over there.”

The Orizaba was a large steamship.

Its black smoke billowing as it was docked, an imposing sight.

It was a regular passenger liner between New York and Havana, sailing once a week.

While going through boarding procedures, he looked around.

Most were Americans, but there were people who looked Cuban.

And some East Asians as well.

“Lee!”

Someone called out.

He turned to see Thomas standing there.

“Thomas? Why are you here?”

“I had to see you off. Our partner is leaving.”

Thomas extended his hand.

“Travel safely and stay healthy.”

He handed over an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Inside was a photograph.

A photo of Mr. Morgan, Thomas, and Lee Jun-hyuk together.

Lee didn’t even remember when it was taken.

“It’s from your uncle. He said it’s a family photo.”

Lee Jun-hyuk looked at the picture and was momentarily speechless.

Mr. Morgan smiled kindly, Thomas had a confident expression.

And he himself looked slightly nervous and awkward.

“When was this taken?”

“The day we signed the contract. Your uncle prepared it in advance.”

A family photo.

No blood relation, but they had truly treated him like family.

“Thank you. I’ll take good care of it.”

“And one more thing.”

Thomas took out a small box.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a compass. Silver-plated.”

He opened the lid to reveal a delicate compass inside.

The inscription was on the inside of the lid.

“Always find your way back home.”

Lee Jun-hyuk’s throat tightened.

“Really…”

“Don’t cry. You’re a man.”

Thomas smiled.

But his eyes looked moist as well.

The ship’s whistle sounded.

It was time to board.

“I guess I have to go.”

“Yes. Keep in touch often. Even just telegrams.”

“I will.”

They shook hands one last time.

Thomas’s hand was warm and firm.

As he climbed the gangway, he looked back.

Thomas waved.

Sitting on the deck, the sea breeze blew over him.

A faint salty smell filled the air.

The harbor was still bustling with people.

“Is this your first time?”

A man beside him spoke.

He looked to be in his fifties.

A neatly dressed gentleman in a gray suit.

“Yes, it is.”

“It takes four days to get to Cuba. Three if the weather is good.”

“I see.”

“Are you going there on business?”

“Yes, for the plantation.”

“Oh, youth. A good time for that.”

The man handed over his business card.

He was an oil company employee.

“I was just assigned as the Havana branch manager. We might be seeing each other often.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Lee Jun-hyuk handed over his business card in return.

“Oh, Morgan & Associates! That’s a good company.”

The ship’s whistle blew again, and the ship slowly started moving.

The dock grew distant.

Thomas’s figure grew smaller and smaller.

Other passengers also came out on the deck.

People saying goodbye to family, those setting off on new beginnings, business travelers.

Each must have had their own story as they boarded the ship.

“It’s cold. Let’s go inside.”

Davis said.

“Yes, let’s.”

They went inside the cabin.

Lee Jun-hyuk’s room was second class.

Not large, but clean.

A bed, a small desk, and a wardrobe were all there was.

He unpacked and sat on the bed.

Outside the window, New York was already fading away.

The Statue of Liberty was visible briefly before disappearing.

He took out his notebook from the bag.

He wanted to organize his plans.

But whether it would go according to plan was uncertain.

As Thomas warned, it wouldn’t be easy.

Asian, young, poor Spanish skills.

There were more than a few disadvantages.

But.

“I can do it.”

Knowing the future was the greatest weapon.

In 1919, sugar prices would rise to 9 cents per pound. And in 1920, up to 22 cents.

Now it was only 6.5 cents.

Calculations ran through his mind.

If done right, he could become a millionaire within a year.

***

In the evening, he was guided to the dining room.

Though not as luxurious as first class, the second-class dining room was still quite elegant.

Tables covered with white tablecloths were neatly arranged.

“Please sit here.”

Several people were already seated at the table, including Davis and some strangers.

“Oh, Lee, sit here.”

Davis greeted him warmly.

“They’re all businessmen heading to Cuba. It’s good to get to know each other.”

Simple introductions followed.

Steel company employee, tobacco importer, and…

“Jose Martinez. A local Cuban.”

A Cuban man in his mid-thirties.

Black hair and a mustache, a typical Latin appearance.

“I’m on my way back after business in New York.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Lee Jun-hyuk.”

They shook hands.

“You’re East Asian? Chinese?”

“Korean.”

“Ah, Korea! I’ve heard of it.”

Martinez showed interest.

“There are quite a few East Asians in Cuba. Mostly Chinese, but also in Havana’s Chinatown.”

“I’ve heard so.”

“What kind of business are you in?”

“I’m going to run a sugar plantation.”

Martinez’s expression shifted subtly.

“Sugar. Good choice. Prices are good right now. But…”

“But?”

“It won’t be easy. Especially for foreigners.”

Just as he thought.

“Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“What area?”

“Near Matanzas.”

“Oh, eastern region. Then you might be neighbors. My family also owns a plantation there.”

Neighbors.

They could be rivals or partners.

Dinner was served.

Fish dishes, steak, and wine.

A splendid meal for eating on a ship.

“To new beginnings.”

Davis raised his glass.

“To new beginnings!”

Glasses clinked.

The wine was slightly bitter but fragrant.

“By the way, Lee…”

Martinez asked quietly.

“Do you have a local sponsor? Someone to help you on the ground?”

“I heard the company will guide me…”

“That won’t be enough. How about the locals? Influence is quite important.”

He handed over his business card.

“If you need help, contact me. Farm owners have to help each other.”

“Thank you very much.”

After the meal, he went out on deck.

The night sea was black and deep.

The stars shone brightly.

Without city lights, the sky was so clear.

The wind was cold.

But it would grow warmer as they moved south.

From his pocket, he took out the compass Thomas had given him.

The needle pointed precisely north.

Towards New York.

Towards home.

No, not anymore.

For the next year, or even longer, Cuba would be home.

“When I return…”

He would be a different person.

No longer a poor student studying abroad, but a successful businessman.

Returning to his cabin, he wrote in his diary.

<January 4, 1919.

Finally departed.

Many people came to see me off.

They were all good people.

Now, I am alone.

No, I am not alone.

I carry their faith and expectations with me.

I will not let them down.>

He put down the pen and lay back on the bed.

The ship’s engines rumbled steadily.

Thud thud, thud thud.

Like the beat of a heart.

By tomorrow, he would be further south.

Somewhere warmer. Somewhere where a new beginning awaited.