From Wonso Pond (24 page)

“My goodness, I didn't hear you come in.”

With a broad smile on his face, Sinch'ol looked at Okchom. He hung his overcoat on the wall.

“So you've come over to visit . . .”

“ W here on earth have you been, Sinch'ol? I'll bet . . .”

Stopping mid-sentence, Okchom smiled sweetly. His stepmother smiled as well.

“Okchom dropped by earlier this evening and has been waiting for you ever since.”

“I see. Well, you'll have to forgive me.”

Sinch'ol took a seat in the chilly room.

“This floor is freezing.”

His stepmother slid a cushion over to him, which he pulled to himself and sat on. Her round eyes seemed to roll from one side of her fair-skinned face to the other as she looked back and forth between Sinch'ol and Okchom. Her trademark snaggletooth jutted out from between her lips.

Okchom noticed that the tip of Sinch'ol's nose was red.

“I got a letter from home the other day,” she said.

“A letter?”

Sinch'ol instantly thought of Sonbi. His curiosity was now piqued. Had they sent Okchom a letter saying they'd be sending Sonbi to Seoul?

“Does your father say he's well?”

“Yes, he does . . . And as far as Sonbi goes, he says they're going to send her here in the spring.”

“Well, good,” replied Sinch'ol, though he felt somewhat disappointed. “It'll be easier for her to enroll in classes then.”

His stepmother rose to her feet.

“Well, I'm going to my room. Enjoy yourself, dear.”

Okchom promptly stood up as well, to say goodnight.

“Yes, good night then.”

When Sinch'ol's stepmother finally made her way into the yard, Okchom breathed a sigh of relief. She gazed into the lamplight, lost in her thoughts. She could hear the sound of a taxicab whizzing by in the distance. The honking of its horn rang in her ears like the sound of a vibrating wire.

“Where have you been going off to all the time? There's a girlfriend in the picture now, isn't there, Sinch'ol?”

She stared him square in the face. Sinch'ol brushed some of the dust from his trousers, then tried to blow it away.

“Uh . . . are you talking about me?”

“You are so easily distracted! You won't even listen to me when I'm talking to you. Are you thinking about someone else?”

“Me? Who should I be thinking about?”

He tilted his head to the side as though he were pondering her question.

“Sinch'ol! Does what I say mean anything at all to you? Why do you always treat me like this?”

Her eyes were now as bright as glass beads, and had begun to well up with tears. She thought about how she had walked circles around this neighborhood night after night in the hope of running across Sinch'ol. Had she gone to all that trouble just to hear this sort of insincerity? She regretted everything now, and jumped to her feet.

“I'm going!”

“You are?” replied Sinch'ol, as he watched her stand up. Then he smiled. “You're not going home all alone, are you?”

“Well, why not? Do you think I'm not up to it?”

She put on her gloves and wrapped on her scarf. She could feel the warmth of her breath in her scarf and a faint dampness against her cheeks. She realized she was on the verge of tears.

“Now, Okchom, why don't you just sit back down for a while. Then I'll walk you back home.”

Once Okchom had stood up to go, he had thought the empty room rather lonely.

“Do you mean it?”

With this offer to walk her home, much of the resentment lodged in Okchom's heart seemed to melt away of its own accord.

“Of course I do.”

Then something occurred to her.

“You know, your father might scold me for being in here,” she said, glancing over at the door and then back at Sinch'ol. “Let's go back to my place. I'll order something for you to eat when we get there.” With a tilt of her head, she looked at him like a child begging for something.

Sinch'ol jumped to his feet. He threw on his overcoat and they went outside.

58

They set off on foot, walking side by side. There were no buses or taxicabs to be seen on the street, nothing but the dim light from the streetlamps standing guard at the alleyways. They walked along slowly, casting long shadows on the ground. The biting wind of a winter's night swept icily up the edges of their clothes. It was finally Okchom who broke the silence, as she looked up at a streetlamp.

“I wonder how many times I've walked this street,” said Okchom softly, “all alone . . .”

She looked out at Paksok Heights, which rose in the distance. She let out a gentle sigh.

“Hey . . . I was wondering how old Sonbi is now,” said Sinch'ol.

“I guess she's about eighteen. Why do you want to know that?”

“I just thought I should know.”

“Why should you know that?”

Okchom stared up at Sinch'ol. Was Sinch'ol asking these questions, she wondered, because he couldn't get the girl out of his mind?

“Come, Sinch'ol, I want to know why you need to know?”

“I . . . well, if she's going to come to Seoul in the spring . . . you've got to know how old she is in order to enroll her in a school, don't you?”

“Oh, I see . . . I don't know why I was so . . . Hah, ha,” chuckled Okchom.

Sinch'ol laughed, too.

“Well, she's too old to go to a primary school. So I guess you'll have to enroll her in some sort of private academy.”

“Yes, I suppose we will . . . But as far as studying goes, you know, I'm not really sure that she's up to it. I think you're right about having her come up and work as my maid for a while. That way we can show her around the city a bit, and when we find a nice family for her, we can get her married . . . It'd be shame to waste those good looks of hers in some village in the middle of nowhere.”

Okchom pictured Sonbi in her mind's eye. Indeed, the only virtue she had to waste was a pretty face, considered Okchom.

“Now, tell me,” she asked. That cousin of yours you mentioned the other day, is he really going to marry some country girl?”

“Yes, he is! He doesn't have much of an education, you know, so for a wife he decided to choose a real bumpkin.”

“I suppose he'd have to. If two people aren't equals, they certainly aren't going to live long, happy lives. In any case . . . I guess that settles it then. Once we bring the child to Seoul, we'll have to send her to school for a few months so she can learn how to read the Korean alphabet, and then we can arrange for her to get married.”

“Yes, well, we can worry about that part later . . . But in marriage, you never know what'll happen until you actually get a chance to meet each other. I mean, all that really matters is that you like each other, isn't it? Hah, ha.”

“Well, naturally!” she said with a chuckle. “Of course, you must be fond of each other.”

As they walked along, Okchom moved closer to Sinch'ol's side. If only she could find some way of bringing a quick conclusion to their own plans to get married . . . Perhaps I should just ask him about it tonight? she thought.

Before long, they had come to the crest of Paksok Heights. The wind blowing through the dark forest that surrounded the University Hospital carried with it the faint scent of disinfectant. But down there, beneath those romantic stars, the bare trees of Ch'anggyong Park and the surrounding wall that snaked around it brought to mind the enduring history of the five-century long Yi Dynasty.

“See, this is the part I hate most about walking home alone.”

“Hate? Well, I suppose you shouldn't go out so often then.”

“Oh, Sinch'ol!” she said in exasperation, then grabbed onto his overcoat. In a secluded place like this, she thought, it would have been nice if he'd at least offered the warmth of his hand in hers. No matter how she thought about it, Sinch'ol truly seemed like a person without any feelings. She even wondered if maybe he had some sort of physical defect. Before long, they had arrived at Okchom's boarding house, where Sinch'ol came to a full stop.

“Well, I guess you'd better go on in now.”

“Come on inside with me.”

Okchom stepped in front of him to block his escape. She seemed exceedingly desperate for something to happen.

“Oh, come on, Okchom, it's late . . . I've got to go back home and get some sleep. How am I supposed to make it to school tomorrow?”

“Oh, just for a few minutes . . .”

Okchom was practically clinging to Sinch'ol now. Sinch'ol didn't object exactly, but nor did he think it a particularly good idea. He remembered the debate they'd had today in his reading group about relations with women.

“I'll come again tomorrow.”

“Come again tomorrow? I've had enough of your false promises! Come inside right now.”

Okchom grabbed hold of Sinch'ol's hand and pulled on it. Should I go inside? Sinch'ol wavered. Or maybe not?

59

Sinch'ol finally went through the gate, against his better judgment. Well, as long as I don't make any foolish mistakes, he said to himself, everything will be fine! Inside Okchom's room, there were books piled here and there on her desk, and the floor was littered with apple peels. Judging from the rolled-up futon that had been shoved into the corner, it seemed as though she'd come over to his house right after climbing out of bed. Okchom went around the room picking up the apple peels and found a cushion for Sinch'ol to sit on.

“It's awfully messy in here, isn't it?” she laughed nervously.

If only she'd known Sinch'ol would be coming over, she would have made a point of cleaning up the place—this sense of regret, and the fear that Sinch'ol would think her lazy, both struck her at the same time. There was nothing that she could do about it now. Her face felt hot just thinking about it.

Sinch'ol pulled over the cushion, took a seat, and watched Okchom as she tidied the room. He noticed the whitish dust that had collected on the rim of the electric lamp, the cosmetics carelessly left around the room, and the socks that had been pushed into the corners.

“Would you like to read this letter?”

Okchom picked up a blue envelope from the stationary chest on her desk and handed it to Sinch'ol, with the purpose of diverting his attention from everything else he might see in the room. Sinch'ol pulled the letter from the envelope, and after reading it through a couple times handed it back to Okchom. She was sittting right in front of him, in the middle of peeling a pear. He knew at first glance that she must have paid at least four or five chon for it. Her pointy fingers seemed somewhat pinkish in contrast to the pear she was peeling. Just then, he suddenly remembered that ugly hand, that hand that he'd seen disappear behind the reed fence, holding a summer squash! Whose hand had that been? he wondered again. Okchom cut the pear in pieces, stabbed one slice of it with the end of her knife, and handed it to Sinch'ol. She also took out a box of chocolates from her desk drawer and placed it down in front of him.

“Have some of these, too . . . Can I get you anything else to eat? I can wake up the owner and send him out for something.”

She cocked her head and stared at Sinch'ol with eyes that seemed to overflow with affection for him.

“No, this is great. I couldn't ask for more.”

“But . . . maybe you'd prefer something warm . . .”

“Oh, please stop. I'm very happy with this.”

“Well, shall I have the brazier brought in? It's awfully cold in here, isn't it?”

“Don't worry about me, Okchom. I'm fine.”

Sinch'ol ate his slice of pear and then unwrapped a piece of chocolate. Okchom crunched away on her pear, staring at him bright-eyed.

“You know, your mother is such a nice person.”

“Yes . . . I suppose she is.”

Okchom smiled and asked again, “I bet you have a girlfriend somewhere, don't you, Sinch'ol?”

“Well, that's the first I've heard of it.”

“But your mother said that you did.”

“My mother? I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Okchom laughed.

“Sinch'ol, why do you always seem so tired of me?”

“Me, tired of you? I don't quite know what you mean . . .” He laughed.

Sinch'ol thought it rather silly that Okchom was trying to probe his feelings. Oh, why don't I just go home to bed instead of wasting time like this, he thought to himself. He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief and stood up to leave.

“Thank you for the snacks, Okchom.”

Okchom stared up at him in surprise.

“You're not going yet, are you?” She grabbed the hem of his overcoat and pulled it toward her. One way or another she was going to find some sort of closure—even Sinch'ol saw the determination in her eyes.

“I'll come by again tomorrow. If I don't go home now, I won't make it into school tomorrow.”

“Oh, just stay a little longer . . . Another half an hour . . . No, how about just twenty more minutes?”

“I said I'd come back tomorrow.”

“I don't want you to go. Tomorrow is tomorrow.”

Sinch'ol found this all rather awkward, and he hesitated, at which point Okchom stood up and backed him into the corner.

“I won't let you go home tonight!” She was breathing excitedly, and her cheeks were flushed. The sight of this was so amusing to Sinch'ol that he couldn't stop himself from laughing. This girl's about ready to pounce on me! he thought.