“You did? That happens once in a while, you know.”
“Oh, why does the damn thing have to cause me so much grief ?”
Ever since Sinch'on Taek had missed her last period, Tokho had been badgering the villagers with orders for special foods and herbal tonics to give her.
When Tokho worshipped her like Heaven, Sinch'on Taek was somehow easy to hate, but today the girl was sitting there simply a ball of nerves, and Sonbi's mother found herself both sorry for the young woman as well as amused at the situation.
“You'll have a baby sooner or later, dear. You've still got plenty of time, you know.”
“Well, that's what I say. It's not like I'm forty years old, or even thirty. I don't know why he's making such a big fuss.”
Sinch'on Taek let out a deep sigh.
“I guess I'll have to go back home tomorrow. He keeps telling me I have to leave anyway.”
“Oh, the master is just saying that. He doesn't really mean it.” Sinch'on Taek shook her head and lowering her voice said, “He's been visiting Kannan's house recently, you know.”
Sonbi's mother flashed a look of surprise at her guest.
12
A period of some three years passed by.
Sonbi's mother had lain in bed now for several days with chest trouble, and instead of going to work at the big house, Sonbi kept a vigil at her mother's bedside.
As always, they could not afford an oil lamp, so they burned wild sesame oil, poured into a small saucer just to the side of the bed. The flame from the saucer spewed out a long, black stream of smoke and flickered fiercely in the drafts that swept in through cracks around the door.
Her mother seemed to have fallen asleep, so Sonbi moved closer to the flame. Her rosy cheeks glowed all the more in the light of the oil. She stared vacantly into the flame, then slowly stood up and walked into the next room.
A short time later she returned with her sewing kit in hand, sat down facing the light and set herself to work.
At the sound of her mother groaning, Sonbi put down her sewing and turned to face her.
“Does it hurt again, Mom?”
Her mother's sunken eyes opened, but just barely.
“Bring me some water.”
“You know you're not supposed to drink much water.”
Sonbi came to her mother's side and looked down upon her. Maybe it was because she'd been sick for so long, but her mother seemed to give off a smell.
“Just get me some!” she cried, a bit louder.
Sonbi pleaded with her mother to the point of tears. But she wouldn't listen, and after crying out a few more times, she lifted her head up to get out of bed on her own. Sonbi knew she'd eventually have to give in, so she went into the kitchen to boil some water and brought a cup out to her mother.
“How could I drink that, you little rat!” said her mother, seeing the steam rising out of the cup. “Get me some cold water!”
“Oh, Mom, please . . .”
She helped her mother up and held the cup to her mouth. The woman shook her head a couple of times, then finally took a few sips of the hot water before lying back down again.
“Sonbi,” she called out a few minutes later. Sonbi put down her sewing and again came to her mother's side.
“I saw your father in my dreams last night. But I wasn't excited to see him or even angry. It was just like things always were back when he was alive . . . He had you on his back, and he was heading off somewhere, so I followed after him and asked him where he was going. But he just
kept on walking without saying anything to me . . . What do you think it all means?”
Sonbi now saw her father's face flash into her mind. But it wasn't clear, and she could just barely make out his features, as though his face were shrouded in mist. She looked at her mother. It seemed as though the woman was, at that very moment, staring at the ghost of her husband. A terrifying thought crossed Sonbi's mind, and she felt goosebumps all over.
“Mom!”
Sonbi placed her hand on her mother. Then she sat up close and stroked her face. Her mother's eyes rolled upward and stared at the ceiling. Those frightening eyes then turned onto her daughter.
“What's the matter, mom?”
Staring up at her daughter, Sonbi's mother began to sob with short gasps of air. Her lips began to tremble.
“Sonbi, we've got to find someone to . . . to take care of you . . .”
Her mother was speaking clearly, which comforted Sonbi. But it was a scary thing to watch anyone dying, thought Sonbi, especially when it was your own parent.
Just then, Sonbi heard the sound of the brush gate opening, and she quickly looked over to the front door. As the door opened she saw Tokho step into the room. Alarmed, Sonbi rose to her feet.
“She's still sick, is she? Well now, that's too bad.”
Tokho spoke with concern in his voice, standing just inside the door and looking over at Sonbi's mother. When Sonbi's mother realized it was Tokho, she made an effort to sit up.
“Lie back down. Lie down,” Tokho said. “Did she have anything to eat today?”
He looked over at Sonbi, who lifted her head slightly, but then hung it again.
“She hasn't been able to eat anything.”
“Now, that won't do, will it? We should have some honey over at the house. You come on over and get some, mix it up with water and give it to her, you hear? She won't get any better if she doesn't eat.”
Tokho lit his pipe, stuck it into his mouth, then looked as though he were about to sit down.
“What do you call that? How are you supposed to live here with that for a lamp?”
Tokho took out his wallet, pulled out a five-won note, and tossed it in front of Sonbi. Sonbi was shocked. Then, once again, the front door rattled open.
13
They looked toward the door in surprise. It was Tokho's younger wife, Kannan, who had joined the family after Tokho had driven Sinch'on Taek out of his house. After opening the door, Kannan hesitated, unable to bring herself to come inside. Tokho was glaring at her.
“What are you doing here? How dare you barge into someone's home like that . . . like some sort of commoner! Where the hell did you learn to call on people like that?”
Witnessing this spectacle, Sonbi and her mother did not know what to say to relieve their own embarrassment. After staring at the two for some time, Sonbi's mother finally broke the silence.
“Please come inside.”
“What does she need to come inside for? Get out of here, you little bitch. Who ever taught you to barge in on people like that? I said, get out!”
His hand clenched into a fist, Tokho glared at the young woman.
“Oh, no. Please don't be upset with her,” said Sonbi, standing up in the confusion of the moment.
Kannan's face turned bright red and she ran outside. Tokho slammed the door shut and came back into the room. He noticed the five-won bill still on the floor.
“The nerve of that little bitch . . . Now, here, just take this and put it away somewhere. And you be sure to get a new lamp tomorrow and call the doctor. You hear?”
Sonbi's mother poked her daughter sharply in the side. Only then did Sonbi reply,
“Yes, Sir.”
Sonbi still found it hard to pick up the money. And yet, she couldn't just give it back to him. As she hesitated, her mother picked up the money and thrust it into her hand. Sonbi accepted it reluctantly and shoved it beneath the bedding.
Tokho, standing there awkwardly, turned to leave.
“Don't forget to come by tomorrow for the honey.”
“She won't,” replied her mother. She poked her daughter in the side again and gestured for her to follow Tokho out the door.
Sonbi slowly got up and followed Tokho out to the gate.
“Goodbye, Sir.”
“Stop by the house tomorrow, okay?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Sonbi gently closed the gate behind Tokho and went back inside. She felt her heart racing for fear that Kannan might for some reason barge in again. She came to her mother's side and sat down.
“Mom, why do you suppose Kannan came by?”
Her mother had been trying to figure this out as well.
“Well, I . . . Oh, no, it's coming back again.”
Her face contorted and she fell into a fit of coughing. As Sonbi rubbed her mother's back, she wondered what could have brought Kannan over so suddenly. Neither of them ever visits us here, so what could they have been thinking? Was it because mom was sick? Or was it something else? No matter how she thought about it, it was downright suspicious that both of them just happened to stop by.
Kannan had once been Sonbi's very best friend. But ever since she'd become Tokho's younger wife, the two had grown apart, and whenever it was unavoidable that they cross paths, they simply greeted each other with a faint smile. One day Sonbi had found herself suddenly working as a servant to her best friend, and while she was never bitter because of it, it had made things quite awkward between them.
After moaning for some time, her mother quieted down again. Sonbi covered her with the quilt and went over to the light. When she picked up her sewing, though, she couldn't concentrate on her work, and made little progress. She neatly folded her sewing and stared vacantly into the flame.
“Buy an oil lamp and get some light for this room . . .”
She murmured this to herself, picturing Tokho's face as he'd handed her the five-won bill. Never before had he ever shown them such kindness! Sonbi hadn't the slightest idea how to interpret it, but a sense of unease unlike anything she'd ever felt before, weighed heavily on her chest.
She turned to her mother.
“Mom!” she called. But there was no reply.
She heard the faint sound of snoring. Her mother slept like this whenever
her chest pain subsided. Sonbi couldn't grasp what had caused her to call out for her mother so suddenly. She stared at her mother's pale face, and then thought of the five-won bill she had earlier slipped under the bedding. Unwittingly, she let out a deep sigh.
14
Sonbi felt a chill go through her body and she finally got up. She hadn't slept all night long, and now had a splitting headache. The pain her mother was suffering had been on her mind as well, but the way both Tokho and Kannan had appeared on their doorstep last night was also worrying enough to keep her from sleeping.
“Mom, shall I heat up some water and wash your hands and feet?”
“Please.”
Her mother had barely uttered the word before she turned onto her side with another groan.
“Is the pain back again?” said Sonbi, coming to her side.
Her mother simply moaned in reply. Sonbi pulled the blankets over her mother's chest, then went outside.
The light of day hadn't yet broken. Sonbi was still lost in thoughts of the previous night as she quietly pulled open the kitchen door. The sour smell of fermenting vegetables hit her. “Oh, the
kimchi
c
is over-pickled,” she muttered, as she swung both the front and back doors to the kitchen wide open.
She had filled a pot with water and was just lighting a fire beneath it when she heard somebody give the brush gate a shake. Kannan's face flashed into her mind. She kept perfectly still and listened carefully. Who else could it be this early in the morning?
Finally she heard the gate slowly creak open.
“Who's there?”
Sonbi stepped out into the kitchen doorway and looked outside. She jerked back in surprise and took a few steps backward, then ran back into the inner room in sheer terror. Her mother, quite alarmed as well, turned to look at her.
“What's going on?”
“A man just came in through the brush gate,” said Sonbi, having come to her mother's side and set her eyes on the front door.
At this her mother attempted to sit upright, fearing a thief. But she quickly fell down.
“Who's there? Who is it?” she cried as loud as she could.
“It's just me, ma'am.” The man stood hesitantly just outside the front door.
“Well, who is âme'? And what are you doing here at the crack of dawn?”
She couldn't recoginize him by the sound of his voice alone. Slowly, he pushed the door open. The two of them stared at him intently, trying to hide their fear. Though it was still too dark to see clearly, his silhouette and his height finally told them that it was Ch'otchae.
But this untimely visitor was only cause for further alarm. What had that good-for-nothing come to do to them at this time of night, they wondered, their hearts racing faster than ever.
“So what are you doing here?”
“I heard that you were sick, ma'am, so I just brought over some sumac roots for you to make medicine with.”
His words gradually faded into a whisper. The mother and daughter were somewhat relieved by what he had to say, but now they were even more confused.
“Well, thank you for going to such trouble . . . ,” said Sonbi's mother, noticing the bundle of sumac he carried into the room with him. He placed the bundle down on the floor, then immediately turned to leave.
“Go home safely,” Sonbi's mother called to him.
She waited for the sound of his footsteps to disappear into the distance.
“What does that boy think he's doing?” she said under her breath as she glanced at Sonbi. Though it was just a vague feeling, it hit her that maybe all of this had to do with Sonbi. She now felt even more pressed to make a decision about Sonbi's future as soon as possible.
The room filled with sunlight. The sumac roots poked through holes in the horribly tattered cloth in which the freshly unearthed roots had been bundled. Sonbi was still so terrified that she hadn't moved an inch. She even recalled how he'd once stolen her sourstem when they were younger.