Daughters of the Dragon: A Comfort Woman's Story (4 page)

S
IX

S
oo-hee and
I went out to the well and washed. When we came inside to change for bed, Mother was building a fire in the iron stove. That surprised me. We only burned wood on the coldest days of winter.

When we returned to the kitchen, the fire was high and Mother was kneeling on the floor. She had washed the grime from her face and hands, and had changed into her white
hanbok
that she only wore on special occasions, before the Japanese outlawed them. She held her back straight and her chin high as I remembered she did many years earlier. Next to her, on the table, was the comb with the two-headed dragon.

I had only seen it a few times before. When I was young, Mother would comb our hair with it during the Korean New Year, before we paid our respects to our grandparents. Father was always away when she did, visiting a friend in need or helping the village men butcher a pig for the New Year’s celebration.

I had always wondered where Mother had gotten the magnificent comb with the gold spine and the strange two-headed dragon. I asked her about it once and Soo-hee scolded me for asking too many questions. But I could tell Soo-hee wanted to know, too. Mother had said we were too young to understand.

Then, when I was eight years old, the Japanese forced us to give our land to the skinny landlord with the big ears. They told us we had to celebrate the New Year the Japanese way. Mother did not comb our hair with the special comb that year, and I never saw it again. I thought she had sold it along with our furniture to buy rice. But now there it was, on the table in front of me.

Mother told us to come and sit by her so she could comb our hair. Soo-hee was the eldest so she got to go first. She knelt in front of Mother, facing the fire while I sat close. As the fire danced on the wood in the open stove, Mother pulled up the sleeves of her
hanbok
and carefully combed Soo-hee’s hair with the beautiful comb. Its gold spine gleamed in Mother’s hand and the dragon was white as new snow.
Ummah
worked slowly, carefully teasing out Soo-hee’s tangles.

“You never told us where you got the comb,
Ummah
,” I said, as I watched her work on Soo-hee. “You always said we were too young. Will you tell us now, please?”

Mother didn’t answer and I thought Soo-hee would scold me for asking questions again, but she didn’t.
Ummah
combed Soo-hee’s hair until it was smooth and shiny. And then it was my turn. I knelt with my back toward Mother. The comb pressed softly against my scalp. The fire threw black shadows against the kitchen walls. Our house was pleasantly warm and it smelled of burning aspen wood.

Then Mother began in a far-away voice. “My grandmother gave the comb to me after Soo-hee was born. Back then, our family owned the fields behind the house all the way to the tall trees. We raised pigs and cattle. We grew potatoes and
nappa
cabbage, and carrots, radishes, and onions. When I was a young girl, my father had to hire twenty men to bring in the harvest.”

I remained perfectly still as Mother combed my hair and told her story. Soo-hee, her hair smooth as silk, knelt off to my side facing mother as the fire softly crackled.

“My grandparents had two sons,” Mother continued. “Their youngest, my uncle, went to Manchuria to join the forces there that opposed the Japanese occupation of our country. The Japanese killed him, so my father was the only child, and I was his only daughter. My grandmother told me that is why she gave me the comb—because I was her only female descendent.”

“Where did she get it,
Ummah
?” I asked. “Who gave it to your grandmother?”

“Hush, Ja-hee,” Soo-hee said. “Let
Ummah
tell the story.”

Mother continued. “It was given to her by her mother. Your great-great-grandmother is the one who had it made. She was an important woman who lived in Seoul. When the Japanese became powerful, your great-great-grandmother sent her children here. She gave them this land and sent people along to watch over them. She visited from Seoul when she could, and one day, she gave her daughter this comb. Her daughter was your great-grandmother—my grandmother who gave me the comb.

“Our great-great-grandmother had it made?” I asked. “She must have been very rich. A yangban! Why did she give her daughter the comb?”

“She said the dragon had magic to help her,” Mother said. “She told me it must be passed on to daughters to help them, too.” Mother finished combing my hair and turned me around. She looked at me and then at Soo-hee. Her eyes were sad. “It was supposed to help me,” she said.

“How was it supposed to help you,
Ummah
?” I asked.

She did not answer. After a while, Soo-hee said, “You can tell us when we come back from the boot factory,
Ummah
. We must go to bed now. Tomorrow we have a long journey.” Soo-hee pulled at my sleeve. I wanted to ask more questions but Mother just stared into the fire. Soo-hee and I bowed to her and went to our mats to sleep.

*

I lay on my mat next to Soo-hee and tried to picture my great-great-grandmother, the important lady, the yangban, who could afford to have such a fine comb made for her daughter. I decided that she must have been beautiful with long black hair down to her knees. She must have commanded the respect of even the most powerful men. I wished my great-great-grandmother was still alive so she could stop the Japanese from making Soo-hee and me work in the boot factory. I wondered how the comb was supposed to help my mother. I hoped it would help me someday.

I lay awake for a long time waiting for Mother to come to bed. The floor was hot from the
ondol
heating system in our house. I kicked a leg out from under the blanket but the air outside was hot, too. I peeked through an opening in the latticed doors and saw an orange glow coming from the kitchen.

I crawled off my mat and went to the kitchen. The fire was high and the room was hot. Mother sat next to the fire still dressed in her white
hanbok
. A stack of wood was at her side. I asked her why she was burning all the wood. She stared at the fire and didn’t answer me.

I pulled on the sleeve of her
hanbok
. “
Ummah
,
Ummah
, what is wrong? Come to bed now. You have to go to work tomorrow.”

Mother turned to me and ran a hand along my hair. “No,” she said sadly, “I will not give them any more.”

It frightened me to see my mother so sad, so I quickly went back to my mat. When I crawled under the blanket, Soo-hee was awake. “Soo-hee,” I whispered, “
Ummah
is burning all the wood.”

Soo-hee put a hand on my arm. “I know. Go to sleep, little sister.”

I closed my eyes and eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep.

*

The next morning, Soo-hee tugged at me to get me out of bed. “Ja-hee, wake up!” she said. “We must make the
kimchi
before we leave.”

The house was cold and I didn’t want to get up. I rolled into my blanket but Soo-hee pulled it off of me. She yelled at me again to get up. “We don’t have much time,” she said.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes open. It was still dark outside and I couldn’t see well. I peered into the kitchen. The fire was out and the wood was gone. The shadow of Mother, still in her white
hanbok
, sat in the cold room staring at nothing. Her eyes looked like the eyes of old Mr. Lee when Soo-hee and I found him behind his house dead from starvation.

As daylight broke through the aspen trees, I helped Soo-hee drain the brine from the
nappa
cabbage and
daikons
. We only had time to rinse them twice instead of three times like we always did. We made a sauce from garlic, ginger, and hot peppers. The spices stung my hands. We tossed in the vegetables and put the mixture into two large
onggis
. We dragged them to the back of the house and buried them in deep holes. By the time we were done, it was daylight and Soo-hee said we had to go.

I washed the sting from my hands and braided my hair. I wrapped an extra set of clothes in a cloth sack and set it next to Soo-hee’s sack bag. Soo-hee packed a handful of rice and
kimchi
in a hide bag. She brewed some bori cha. All the while, Mother continued to stare into the cold stove.

I sidled up to Soo-hee. “What’s wrong with
Ummah
?” I whispered. It wasn’t at all like Mother to be quiet like that.

“She is very tired,” Soo-hee said. “Now drink some bori cha and eat some rice.”

I drank my bori cha and, though I wasn’t hungry, I ate a little rice. The comb was on the table in front of me. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I stared at the two-headed dragon and it stared back at me. I brought my face close in and something made me turn an ear to it. For a moment, I thought I heard the dragon speak to me.

“Come little sister,” Soo-hee said. “We must say good-bye to
Ummah
.”

The dragon had hypnotized me and I didn’t respond. “Ja-hee!” Soo-hee said. “We do not have much time!”

“Yes,
Onni
, I’m coming,” I said. I forced myself away from the comb and joined Soo-hee in front of Mother.

Soo-hee bowed low. “We are leaving to work in the boot factory,
Ummah
. We made
kimchi
and buried it in an
onggi
in the back of the house where the Japanese will not find it. We buried the rice, too. We will write if we can.” She bowed again. Mother continued to stare into the ashes.

I stood in front of Mother to bow. Instead, I took her by the shoulders and shook her hard. “
Ummah
, wake up!” I insisted. “You have to go to work!” She didn’t move and I took a step back, afraid that my mother’s spell would never be broken.

Soo-hee took me by the arm and pulled me toward the tarpaulin door. She told me it was time to go. We gathered our sacks and walked out of our house leaving our Mother inside, alone.

*

The sun had climbed over the hills in the east and the morning air was warming as we walked past the persimmon tree onto the dirt road. I slipped my hand inside Soo-hee’s and we walked down the road toward Sinuiju. We had gone only a little way when there was a rush of noise behind us. We turned to see Mother running toward us. Her feet were bare and her white
hanbok
billowed out. When she got to us, she stopped suddenly. I was glad to see that she was normal again. But then I saw she wasn’t. Her eyes were wild and scary.

“Here,” she panted, “take it!” In her hand was the comb with the two-headed dragon. She held it out to Soo-hee.

“
Ummah
, I am sorry,” Soo-hee said. “I cannot. The Japanese will steal it.”

“I do not want it anymore,” Mother said.

When Soo-hee didn’t take it, Mother took Soo-hee’s hand and pressed the comb into it. “Do not let go of it,” she whispered. “It has not helped me. Perhaps it will help you. And then you must pass it on to your daughter someday.” She gave Soo-hee a firm nod.

She turned to me and took me by the shoulders. “Ja-hee, listen to your
onni
,” she said. “Do as she says. It is important that you do.” She let go of me and stood straight. She looked from Soo-hee to me. Her mouth opened, her brow furrowed, and I was afraid that my mother might cry in front of me for the first time in my life. “My babies,” she said. “Ye
deulah
.” Then, she lifted her
hanbok
and walked to the house without looking back.

Soo-hee held the comb as if it were a baby bird that she didn’t know where to put. Then, she put the comb in her sack and took my hand again.

“Come, little sister,” she said. “We have a very long journey.”

S
EVEN

“W
e have come
to work in the boot factory,” I said in Japanese to the soldier behind the desk. Soo-hee held our orders out to him. On the soldier’s arm was a white armband with Japanese characters that identified him as
Kempei-tai
, the Japanese military police.

We were standing in a large room with high ceilings, wide plank floors, and many desks. Dozens of Koreans stood in lines, waiting to speak to soldiers sitting at the desks. Outside the window, the daylight was fading.

The
kempei
glanced up from his work. “Address me as ‘sir’. I am
Kempei-tai
and you must show respect.”

“Yes, sir,” Soo-hee said in Japanese.

“Let me see your orders,” the
kempei
said. He took the orders and scanned them. “Yes. You’ve come to the right place. The truck to take girls to the boot factory will be leaving in a little while. Wait over there with the others.” He pointed to an open area where five other girls sat on the floor. Soo-hee and I went and sat with them.

We had walked all day to Sinuiju and hadn’t arrived until the sun was low. Father always said he would take me to Sinuiju someday, but he wasn’t able to before he left home. I had imagined the city having tall, shimmering buildings, shiny cars speeding along on paved boulevards, and elegant ladies on walkways carrying pink parasols, just like in the books I had read with Mother. But when we arrived, all I saw were low shabby buildings, noisy military trucks cutting ruts in dirt roads, and hundreds of ragged workers heading home.

We had stopped at the city’s outskirts and asked a soldier where we should go with our orders. The soldier pointed down the road. “Military command,” he had said. “The two-story building with the Japanese flag.” We finally found the large stucco building flying the white flag with the red sun. We went inside with our orders and a soldier pointed to the
kempei’s
desk.

As we waited for the truck to take us to the boot factory, I studied the other girls. Their eyes darted about nervously. I recognized a tall girl from down the road from our farm. Her name was Sun-hi. All the girls were pretty and young. It concerned me that I was the youngest. I moved closer to Soo-hee.

My
onni
leaned into the circle of girls and whispered in Korean, “Are all of you going to the boot factory, too?”

“Yes,” whispered an older girl with light skin. “That is what our orders say.”

“I thought the factory was here in Sinuiju,” whispered Soo-hee, “but the
kempei
said we will be going on a truck.”

“Quiet over there!” shouted the
kempei
from his desk. “No talking!”

We bowed our heads and stayed silent, sitting on the cold floor, waiting for the truck to arrive.

*

An hour later, the
kempei
approached us followed by a Japanese regular army soldier with dark eyes and a thick chin. “This man has come to take you to the boot factory,” the
kempei
said. “Follow me.”

We followed the soldiers outside. The sun had set making Sinuiju even grayer. In front of us was a large green truck with a canvas top. The soldier with the thick chin helped us into the back. Inside were crates of supplies and sacks of rice. There was only a small area for us to sit. He handed one of the girls a water jug and slammed the truck gate closed as the
kempei
walked back inside the building.

We huddled together and stared at each other wide-eyed. The boxes and sacks of rice hovered over us. The engine roared to life and the truck lurched forward. Several girls let out a squeal. We grabbed each other and held on. The truck rumbled down the street and I could see that it was heading out of the city. Soon, we were in the country rolling past farms and rice paddies. Sinuiju’s lights faded in the distance.

“Soo-hee,” I asked, “where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” Soo-hee answered. “But I don’t think we’re going to the boot factory in Sinuiju.”

The older girl with light-colored skin shook her head. “I knew we weren’t going there,” she said. “My mother said that girls our age are sent to Seoul to work in the textile mill. At first, I didn’t want to go but she told me I had to. She said it’s easy work and we get as much rice as we want.” She turned to me and Soo-hee. She asked what our names were.

I spoke up first. “My name is Ja-hee, and this is my
onni
, Soo-hee.”

“My name is Jin-sook,” she said. My mother said that all we need to do is obey the Japanese,” Jin-sook said to all the girls. “Listen to me and do what I say.” Jin-sook looked like she was the oldest so we all nodded. No one said anything more as the boxes and sacks of rice swayed over our heads.

The truck rolled on until the sky was dark and the stars twinkled. The smell of farmland and the diesel fumes made me sleepy. I was hungry, cold, and thirsty, too. I leaned into Soo-hee who pulled me close. Someone passed the water jug. When it came to Soo-hee, she handed it to me without taking a drink. “Take my share, little sister,” she whispered. “I’m not thirsty.” I took two swallows and passed the jug on.

Eventually, I fell asleep.

*

I jerked awake in the middle of an odd dream where the dragon from Mother’s comb was chasing me. The truck had come to a stop and its engine was silent. It was completely dark and the air was still. I rubbed the dream from my eyes. “Where are we?” I asked in Korean. “What’s happening?”

“Shush!” Jin-sook whispered. “You’ll get us all shot.”

A light came from around the side of the truck and pointed in at us. I raised my arm to shield my eyes. A hand behind the light reached in and lowered the truck gate. The driver said, “You, come with me.”

I was terrified he was talking to me, but the driver reached in and grabbed the tall girl named Sun-hi. “The rest of you stay put,” the driver barked, “or I will cut off your ears.”

Sun-hi cried out, “Where are you taking me?”

“Quiet!” the driver commanded. There was a slap and a muffled cry. The light disappeared into the darkness. I sat close to Soo-hee and trembled. I could feel Soo-hee trembling too.

A short way from the truck Sun-hi cried out again. “No,” she said. “Please, no!”

There was another slap and the sound of tearing fabric. “Quiet,” the driver barked. “Better get used to it you Korean whore.”

I tried not to listen to Sun-hi’s cries, but it was the only sound in the dark night. After a few minutes, Sun-hi stopped crying and the driver grunted. He started breathing hard, then grunted again and again. Then he was quiet.

Eventually, the light came again and pointed in at us. I was terribly afraid. I looked out the back of the truck for where to run in case the driver came for me next. All I saw was smothering blackness. I pushed myself tight against Soo-hee and blinked back tears. All the girls sat perfectly still. The driver shoved Sun-hi into the truck and she flopped down next to me and curled into a tight ball. Her dress was ripped and her hair hung in strings over her face. A streak of blood ran down her chin.

The gate slammed closed and the light went toward the front of the truck again. The engine started and the truck jerked forward.

As we rolled along in the darkness, one girl started to cry. “I thought you said we would be all right,” she said to Jin-sook. Jin-sook didn’t answer. Two other girls began to cry. I was about to cry too, but before I could, Soo-hee drew me close and whispered, “Do not cry, Ja-hee. We must be strong. We must be strong or we will die.”

For the first time in my life, I was going to have to be strong. Until now, my parents and Soo-hee had always taken care of me. But now I had to do what Soo-hee said, so I pushed my cries down and felt my insides harden a little. I brought my knees up and curled into a tight ball like Sun-hi. I thought about the comb with the two-headed dragon. I hoped that if I stayed strong the dragon would protect me and I would be spared Sun-hi’s fate.

But as the truck rolled on toward our destination, I wondered if the comb was nothing. After all, Mother said it didn’t protect her. Maybe it was only a trinket she had bought in Sinuiju and the story about my great-great-grandmother was a tall tale to make Soo-hee and me less afraid about leaving home.

Maybe the comb with the two-headed dragon, hidden in Soo-hee’s sack, was nothing at all.