“Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute.”
Sonbi had almost reached the door to her room when she stopped, hesitantly.
“Um, could you get me a small bowl of cold water?” he asked.
In the confusion of the moment, this was all he could think of, but it would do. Briefly, it seemed as though Sonbi was considering his request, but then she opened her door and stepped inside. Her affront registered throughout his entire body, and he felt like collapsing onto the ground. Why hadn't he just kept quiet inside the outhouse until he could jump out and grab hold of her? he asked himself.
“Grandma. Grandma,” Sonbi was waking up the old woman. Sinch'ol held his breath in order to better hear her. Waking Granny was no easy task, it seemed, for all she did was grunt in reply.
“Grandma. . . The man from Seoul . . .”
Sinch'ol only caught a few of Sonbi's words. Perhaps Granny had woken, though, for now he could hear a rougher voice speaking.
“Just go and get it. How am I supposed to see anything in the dark?”
Sonbi murmured something to her once again.
“Oh, who cares, child. Just do it.”
Sinch'ol had lost heart as soon as he'd heard that Granny was awake, but now that it seemed that Sonbi might appear in front of him with a bowl of water, his heart pounded uncontrollably. Another shadow flickered between the door casing, the door slid open and Sonbi came out. There she was, her head down, moving toward the kitchen. He thought it rather ridiculous that he was standing in front of the outhouse, so he followed her.
As the dark inner quarters appeared before him, he peered inside to
see if anyone might have awoken. What if those glowing rubber shoes had transformed into a person! What if he heard the doors to the inner quarters open! Or what if Okchom herself were to come outside! His heart was now racing faster than ever.
Having quietly opened the kitchen door, Sonbi appeared, carrying his bowl of water. Oh, the sight of her bathed in the pure white light of the moon! She looked many times lovelier than did the Sonbi of the daylight. While she'd disappeared into the kitchen, Sinch'ol had come up with a new plan of action, but now that he saw her coming toward him, his plan escaped him and he panicked. He took the bowl of water from her and put it to his lips. He was terribly thirsty, but for some reason his throat refused to comply. He swallowed the wrong way, and by the time he stopped coughing and tried to hand the bowl back to her, she'd already vanished. He looked behind him. The hem of Sonbi's skirt was disappearing around the corner towards the outhouse.
30
He stared into the darkness. Could Sonbi really dislike me so very much? he wondered. Then he realized how foolish and downright vulgar he was acting. He wanted to throw the bowl to the ground and smash it into a million pieces. But as he looked into the bowl with angry eyes, he saw the moon that had earlier hidden itself from his view. It had fallen into the water, and quivered there ever so slightly. He could feel the anger inside him gradually subsiding. The water now seemed to reflect something in his heart. But this, too, was yet another of his fleeting thoughts. For now he laughed at how foolishly he was behaving, standing there analyzing this bowl! A sadness swept through his body, a feeling that his heart was somehow barren. With the water bowl still in his hand, he went back to his room.
He heard someone walking across the breezeway, and his door slowly slid open. A woman walked into the room. He looked at her in surprise.
“Hey, why aren't you asleep?”
He caught the scent of face cream in the air along with the powerful scent of a young woman's flesh. He felt strangely excited by Okchom in an altogether new way.
“What are you doing up and about?”
Sinch'ol managed to keep calm with his reply, but all sorts of emotions now swept through him, together with the fear that she could very well have seen everything that had just transpired. On any other day, Okchom might have come up to Sinch'ol's side and whispered something into his ear, but now she just stood there awkwardly.
“Well, either sit down or go on back to bed.”
Sinch'ol surmised that Okchom had indeed witnessed everything. Perhaps Sonbi had left him without taking back the bowl precisely because she had seen Okchom. He could have killed himself for being so stupid.
Okchom stood thinking for a moment, then sat down next to Sinch'ol.
“Sonbi is pretty, isn't she?”
The unexpected question was like a raised fist thrust before him in the darkness. Sinch'ol had been caught off guard, and he hesitated.
“Yeah, she is,” he finally replied, looking at Okchom.
Okchom hung her head, then snapped it back up again. “I should officially introduce you then.”
“Okay.”
Okchom sprung to her feet.
“I'll go get her.”
At this, Sinch'ol lost his composure. He grabbed Okchom's nightgown and pulled her toward him. Then, in an effort to preserve his dignity he spoke to her in a tone of reconciliation.
“Now, Okchom, don't be so childish . . . You have tomorrow and the next day to introduce us. Why ever would you want to do it at this time of night?”
Okchom grabbed the hand with which Sinch'ol was clutching her nightgown, and started to sob. All the passion she'd held inside until this moment seemed to find an outlet in her tears. Sinch'ol put his arms around her without thinking, and held her tightly around the waist. But the image of the moon quivering in his bowl of water flashed before his eyes, and he slowly saw Sonbi appear before him, glowing in the pure white light of the moon. He slipped his hands away from Okchom and tried to sit back, but a flame had been kindled inside of him by Okchom's sumptuous flesh, which was separated from his own by nothing but that thin nightgown. He shut his eyes tightly.
“Okchom, go back to bed now.”
Sinch'ol's voice cracked and the words didn't come out clearly. Okchom shook her body from side to side and squeezed even closer against him. Her whole body burned like fire now, and Sinch'ol was at the end of his wits. He heard a voice in his ear, the merciless sound of his own reason falling to pieces. And yet he realized it was impossible for him lift a single finger from this woman's body.
Just then the sound of someone clearing her voice in the inner room vibrated through the door. Sinch'ol pushed himself away from Okchom.
“Come on, you have to go back now. It sounds like you're mother's awake,” he said.
Only then did Okchom slowly straighten. She looked at Sinch'ol. “Don't turn on the light! I'll go.”
But the light was already shining. Sinch'ol looked over his shoulder and smiled to himself. He felt something close to joy at having crossed a line he should never have breached. But again he saw a vision of Sonbi, flashing a smile on that pretty face of hers.
Sinch'ol went to Okchom's side and stroked her disheveled hair. The sense of exhilaration he now felt practically forced him to do so. Okchom blushed to the tips of her ears, but she couldn't bring herself to look Sinch'ol in the face.
“Alright now, Okchom, go back to bed, okay?”
Okchom grabbed the hand with which Sinch'ol was smoothing her hair and clenched her teeth around it. Her whole body was trembling now, and she started to lick his hand with the tip of her tongue. Sinch'ol blushed, and pulled away his hand.
“Okchom, go back inside.”
“No! I don't want to!”
Again they heard the sound of someone coughing.
31
The next morning Okchom awoke with a start to find her father beside her, smoothing down her uncombed hair.
“Father?”
She instantly thought of the previous night and of Sinch'ol's hands. She sensed that the air in her room was thick with a hope that she couldn't quite explain.
“Why are you sleeping so late?”
“Oh, I stayed up too late last night.”
The thought of how Sinch'ol had held her tightly the previous night brought color to her cheeks. She wanted desperately to share with her father what had happened, but she was too embarrassed to speak of it.
“Daddy . . . would you buy me something?”
Tokho smiled.
“What now?”
“Well, how about a piano?”
“A piano? What's that?”
He'd never heard the word before. Okchom laughed.
“Oh, Father! Haven't you seen the pump organ they use to teach children to sing over at the school?”
“I suppose so.”
“Well, it looks like that.”
“So you want me to buy a Western-style organ? What the heck for?”
“To play, of course, Father . . .”
“Well, you can forget that! You've already got the chance to study. What do you need something like that for?”
“Oh, but Daddy, I simply must have one. Won't you buy one for me, please . . . ?”
“Hmm . . . Well, how much are they?”
“Do you promise to buy one?”
“Just tell me how much.”
“Only if you promise to buy me one.”
Perhaps Tokho realized that he would eventually give in if Okchom started to plead.
“All right, I'll get you one.”
“Well, I heard that a decent one costs at least a thousand.”
“A thousand won?”
Tokho's eyes opened wide. He was speechless. Okchom grabbed her father's hand and squeezed it tightly.
“Oh, Father, are you really that surprised? I'm going to get all your money anyway, won't I? You aren't going to leave it to anyone else, are you?”
She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye.
“Well, no, I suppose not. But mind you, even if you're going to inherit
my money, what sense does it make for me to go out and buy this foolish thing if you're not going to use it?”
“But no, Father, no, I will. If you go to Seoul, you'll see that every family with a respectable home has one. You've just never been in one before.”
“What use will this thing have anyway? I'd be the first person to get one if it did something like mint silver or gold, but what's the point of spending money on something that does absolutely nothing for you? Do you have any idea how much interest a thousand won will make in a year? Well, do you?”
“Oh, Daddy, if you don't get me one, I'm sure I'll fall ill, I want one so badly . . .”
“You're something else, girl,” he chuckled. “You need one so badly that you're going to be sick? Well, I'll think about it.”
When Okchom saw that he didn't outright refuse her request, she had a hunch that he'd give in. Tokho, however, had something else on his mind.
“Now, this boy Sinch'ol. Where did he say he goes to school?”
“Kyongsong Imperial University! He said he's going to graduate next year.”
“Hmm. And you'd say his family is well off ?”
“Well, his father is a teacher, so I suppose they have a monthly income. I don't know, they might even have some land in the country as well.”
Okchom blushed.
“Alright, Father, please go now. I've got to get up.”
“You see, I could tell he was the son of a gentlemen, brought up in a proper family. Hell, those manners of his are perfect.”
“Well, I guess so . . .”
Okchom painted a picture of Sinch'ol in her mind and felt a twinge of embarrassment thinking about the next time she would see him. This made her heart race even faster. Looking satisfied with himself, Tokho smiled and left her room. Okchom rose and dressed. She picked up her nightgown and held it tightly against her. The thought that Sinch'ol had held that nightgown in his arms last night sent a tingle down her spine. She folded her bedding and put it away. She opened her door just a crack and saw that the door to the side room where Sinch'ol slept was wide open, though she couldn't see Sinch'ol. It looked as if he had gone out
for another walk. He had a habit of going out before the crack of dawn. Okchom quietly crossed to his room. It had been cleanly swept and the books on his desk had been carefully arranged. There was a pair of Sinch'ol's dirty socks rolled in a ball under the desk. As Okchom stood there staring at them, reflecting on the events of the previous night, she wondered, Does Sinch'ol really love me?
32
As she sat and pondered this question, she recalled the scene she had witnessed: Sonbi and Sinch'ol standing face to face with a bowl of water between them. A wave of jealous feelings now swept uncontrollably through Okchom. Could Sinch'ol be in love with Sonbi? But what could he love about her? No, no, I must have this wrong, she thought. How could a person like Sinch'ol fall for somebody's servant? And especially for a hick like that who's never been to school and doesn't know anything. She might be pretty, but what else is there? Once Okchom had thought things through in this way, she felt somewhat reassured. Yet something still lingered in her mind, a cause for unease and discomfort. She made up her mind to ask Sonbi what had happened the night before, and hurried to the kitchen.
Sonbi was shuttling around the room clearing up the dishes.
“Hey, you, Sonbi! Come out here for a minute.”
Sonbi followed Okchom to the backyard. The loofa vines climbing the marsh reed fence had just set forth their first yellow blossoms of the season. Sonbi glanced at them delightedly, then went over to Okchom.
“Why did you leave your room last night?” Okchom asked.
Sonbi didn't at first seem to understand.
“Me, when?”
“Don't try to hide anything from me, Sonbi. Weren't you up last night getting water for the guest from Seoul?”