From Wonso Pond (40 page)

Read From Wonso Pond Online

Authors: Kang Kyong-ae

BOOK: From Wonso Pond
6.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Sinch'ol tried to read the expression on Ch'otchae's face. He sat there unflinchingly. On the one hand he seemed like a well-behaved ox, the very picture of loyalty, and yet on the other hand, there was something else, something unwavering about him that ran much deeper. Sinch'ol could see it there in him.
“Well then! Time for you to go!”
Sinch'ol got up and Ch'otchae followed him outside. With a quick but firm gesture, Sinch'ol placed a sheaf of manifestos into his hands.
“Be careful now!”
Ch'otchae took the pamphlets and shoved them down his pants. Then he shook Sinch'ol's hand firmly. He pulled down his hunting cap over his brow and headed out the main gate.
His nerves were on edge now because of what Sinch'ol had told him. His concentration was such that he'd become all eyes and ears. And by the time he finally arrived at the Taedong Spinning Mill his heart was
racing. First, he made a loop around the compound. Someone might have come to spy on him, he feared, so he kept his eyes peeled for anything that looked suspicious. He could hear the clamor of the factory generators. Out of that black smokestack rising into the sky came a stream of smoke, turned white now in the light of the moon.
He made his way back into the alley. There wasn't a trace of human life in sight—everything was completely still. This time he slowly emerged from the shadows and headed straight for the northeast corner of the factory compound, where he pressed himself up against the wall. He pulled the pamphlets out of his pants, quickly shoved them into the drainage pipe, and then turned around to go. Breathlessly, he dashed to the corner of the house opposite him, but his eyes were still fixed on the pipe. Again he saw that long line of factory girls in his mind and, then in the midst of them all, Sonbi. Oh, Sonbi! he cried silently, almost despite himself. Was that really you? Could you really be spinning thread in there now? Or maybe sleeping? It seemed like she was looking straight into my eyes . . . But had she even recognized me?
He hoped Sonbi was reading all those notes he'd been leaving in the factory. He wanted so much for her to be smart, not just pretty and gentle, like the old Sonbi used to be. If only she took that one step forward and became a strong, committed woman. That was the only way he'd ever be able to trust her and to walk with her side by side.
All human beings, after all, had to make a point of understanding what class they belonged to, and furthermore, it was those who struggled for the historical development of human society who were, in the truest sense, human beings—this is what Sinch'ol had told him.
102
Having finished night class and returned to Room No. 3, Sonbi lay down on her bedding before she'd even taken off her clothes. Back when she was in Room No. 7 with Kannan, they used to snuggle under the covers as soon as night school was over, and talk late into the night. But now that Sonbi had been moved, she felt like a guest in someone else's house, and she was never really comfortable—perhaps because she wasn't very close to her new roommates. What was that idiot of a supervisor thinking anyway? That she was going to give him favors if he moved her in here? There was something fishy about the move, to be
sure. Maybe Kannan was right, and he was just trying to keep a better eye on her. But maybe I'm right, thought Sonbi, and the fool has actually fallen for me.
Along with these thoughts, an image of Ch'otchae's face appeared in her mind's eye. It was on the way to Wolmido, on that cobblestone street on the wharf—they'd actually stared right into each other's eyes. But had that really been Ch'otchae?
Having caught this glimpse of him so unexpectedly, Sonbi couldn't help but think about Ch'otchae at night. She remembered the time when she'd climbed up the hill to collect wild herbs, and Ch'otchae had stolen some of her sourstem, and she had run back down the hill in tears. And then there was the time when her mother was sick—the day when at the crack of dawn he'd brought them sumac roots! She knew she'd failed to appreciate what he'd tried to do for her. What a precious gift those sumac roots seemed to her now, and how grateful she felt for them! Proof of Ch'otchae's sincerity, his pure heart, had been right there in those freshly dug roots still moist with soil, and yet at the time she'd completely failed to see it. What had she done with those roots? Roots he had surely spent all night digging? Roots that no doubt symbolized his true feelings? What she should have been grateful for she had tossed into the back corner! The more she thought about it, the more angry, the more ashamed she felt about her behavior.
Oh, if only just once! Was it really impossible for her to meet him again? Sonbi rolled onto her side and let out a deep sigh. She felt the warmth of her breath coming back into her face. But this triggered yet a different memory: of Tokho breathing heavily whenever he grabbed her. She shuddered at the thought of it. She had lost something now, it seemed, something without which she'd never be able to meet Ch'otchae again. She felt absolutely helpless and horribly ashamed. The chastity she had guarded for twenty years had been stolen from her by that pumpkin-faced old Tokho, and the more she thought about it, the more enraged she became. She'd been so traumatized at the time that she hadn't even had the wherewithal to get upset about it. But as she lay in bed and pondered it now, she knew that Tokho had ruined her life forever, and her face flushed with shame. She tried to paint a picture of Ch'otchae's face in her mind. Judging from his expression the other day, he'd seemed quite surprised to see her, which must have meant that he had recognized her. Even though their eyes had met for only the briefest
instant, Sonbi could tell that Ch'otchae hadn't forgotten her. Somewhere, in some corner of his mind, he had kept a memory of her alive.
Perhaps his eyes had lit up the way they did because Sonbi herself had stared at him with such excitement. In any event, it seemed certain that Ch'otchae had recognized her. Sonbi had felt such a rush of emotions, first of sadness and then of joy, that her heart had simply trembled under their sway. She didn't ever want to leave Ch'otchae's sight. And yet people had backed up behind her, and were pressing her on. Like a flash of lightning their paths had crossed, and like a flash of lightning myriad memories had suddenly swept through her mind. She'd had no choice but to move on.
Ch'otchae's body was so big and strong now, she could hardly recognize it, and with his features so rugged, it was only those sparkling eyes that she recognized for sure—eyes that had smiled at her so long ago, those of a boy chewing on a piece of stolen sourstem. In those eyes she could now see something troubled by the world, as well as something of their earlier innocence and vitality. But in the very pupils of his eyes she could also see a powerful, almost terrifying glow! And it was this, and this alone, she knew, that would free her from her hatred of Tokho.
Then she remembered something that Kannan was always telling her—that the world was full of enemies, people just like Tokho. If we want to stand up to them, we have to do it together. Somehow Sonbi felt suddenly empowered. Only by doing what Kannan had taught her could she ever imagine taking Ch'otchae's hand into her own. That strong back of Ch'otchae's that must have carried so many loads of dirt! Her own hands that were blistered from spinning so much thread! There was no other choice but to bring together all those backs and all those hands and to join together in a fight against all the Tokhos of the world. This was the only path Sonbi could now see before her.
“Ahem!” At the sound of someone coughing, Sonbi flinched.
103
Sonbi listened with bated breath. When she heard the cough again, she realized that it had come from the supervisor in the night duty room. There was nothing but a single wall separating her and the super as they lay there side by side—the very thought of this made her uncomfortable. Sonbi remembered what Kannan had told her about Yongnyo.
Sure enough, the supervisor had moved Sonbi into this room hoping to make her into his next Yongnyo, but she would never let him get his way with her. And if he ever did come after her and try to make a plaything out of her like Yongnyo, she thought, well, I'd make a complete fool out of him and then just get out of here. Aren't there other factories out there besides this one?
In spite of her determination to avoid Yongnyo's fate, Sonbi's mind was plagued by a sense of foreboding about her future, which was no little cause for distress. If only Kannan were still in the same room with her, she might have said something to comfort Sonbi at a time like this. She wanted to make contact with Kannan and to discuss a plan of action, so that they could take a stand against this supervisor who kept throwing himself onto the girls. For some time now she'd been wanting to talk with Kannan, but it hadn't been easy to find the chance. They were both busy all day long, and had to work the night shift every other day, and if ever they had a single moment to spare, they'd have to use it to sew their clothes. If she didn't take advantage of nights like these, months, even years, might pass by before she found even a minute to sit down face to face with Kannan.
And yet judging from the fact that the supervisor had just coughed, it seemed he hadn't yet fallen asleep. At the sound of a door opening he'd most likely come chasing after her. Oh, to heck with it, I'll talk to her some other time! she thought. Why should it have to be today?
Then she heard a door open. Sonbi quickly looked at her door. It wasn't hers but rather, it seemed, the door to the supervisor's night-duty room. There was a sound of soft footsteps coming from outside. Sonbi flinched in fear that her body was in imminent danger. She pulled the blanket over her head and held her breath. She could hear the sound of footsteps no longer. But in her mind the supervisor was standing right outside her door, trying to guess whether the girls inside were sleeping or not. Sonbi's heart was racing a mile a minute for fear that he might any second now enter the room and force himself upon her. She was on the point of waking up her roommate, who was sleeping soundly beside her, oblivious to everything.
Sonbi slowly pulled down her blanket and tried listening for the sound of footsteps or the sound of a door. The girl next to her popped her head out of her blankets and looked at Sonbi.
“That was a door, wasn't it?”
Sonbi was so glad to hear that someone else was awake that she quickly moved closer to her, rustling her covers.
“You awake, too?
“Yes, whose door was that, anyway? It sounded like it came from the supervisor's room, didn't it?”
“It sure seems like it did.”
The girl next to Sonbi put her lips up close to Sonbi's ear.
“This all just started a couple of days ago, you know . . . but the supervisor doesn't sleep at night any more. He actually goes out on patrol. Haven't you seen all those funny pieces of paper lying around recently?”
Sonbi feigned innocence.
“No . . . What kind of paper?”
“Well, I don't know about the other rooms, but when we wake up in the morning we've been finding these little notes scattered around the room. They have all sorts of stuff about the factory written on them. You know those shoes we all got when we went to Wolmido the other day?”
“Yes.”
“Well, those shoes were . . . Look, I'll explain later.”
After glancing over at the door, her roommate cut herself short. But since Sonbi had already heard the story from Kannan, she didn't press her any further. Besides, she feared the supervisor might have overheard what they were saying, and her heart was now practically in her throat. Thank goodness she'd stopped! But so many of the factory girls were now caught up in the mystery of those little paper notes that Sonbi knew for sure that it had to be Kannan who'd somehow managed to spread them around. Even though she had never mentioned them to her before, judging from her words and behavior she could tell that the mystery person had to be Kannan. And there were certainly others involved on the inside as well. Kannan wasn't normally someone to keep any secrets from her, but she was almost certain that on this matter Kannan was hiding something. Whatever it was all about, and whoever was directing things behind the scenes, wasn't quite clear to Sonbi, whose initial suspicions were only gradually taking shape into a better sense of what was going on. Sonbi wasn't yet ready to confirm her guesswork however—she hadn't quite pieced everything together.
Then, without warning, the door quietly swung open, and the beam of a flashlight streamed into the room.
104
They quickly pulled their bedding over their heads and pretended to be asleep. The door closed again softly and the sound of footsteps grew closer. Sonbi had her hands clutched tight against her chest and her head buried beneath her pillow. She was holding her breath, but her heart was pounding wildly. She couldn't help thinking that he'd actually heard what they were saying from the other side of the door, and was now coming after them to give them a piece of his mind.
A moment later, Sonbi felt the supervisor's hand touch her bedding, and instantly the blanket was ripped off of her. She recoiled in fear, her chin pulled in close to her chest.
“Why aren't you girls asleep?”
The supervisor's terrifying voice echoed in the room. Sonbi gave not a word in reply.
“How do you expect to get your work done tomorrow without a good night's sleep, huh?”
The supervisor quickly stretched out his hand and touched her face, but Sonbi instinctively pushed it away from her. Then she grabbed her covers and pulled them back over her.
“Tell me, have you found any notes scattered around this room? You hand them over to me, if you do, you hear?”

Other books

Death is Semisweet by Lou Jane Temple
Blaze by Andrew Thorp King
Dead Tropics by Sue Edge
Fire & Ice by Alice Brown, Lady V
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
The Good Partner by Peter Robinson
Breaking Big by Penny Draper
Something True by Karelia Stetz-Waters