Year of Impossible Goodbyes (3 page)

Mother sighed and said, "It is beautiful, isn't it? It was done by a silversmith for my mother when I was little. Both the silversmith and my mother died in a fire set by the Japanese soldiers. But somehow I managed to find it on the ground when I returned to the site of my old home. It was buried in the mud, but it caught my eye for it shone so brilliantly in the sun. I want to keep it as long as I can, and if it were polished, Captain Narita and his lieutenants might notice it and take it away. We would be in trouble for not having offered it long ago for the melting pot."

As I stared sadly at the pin in my palm, Mother brushed my hair from my forehead. "When the war is over and the Japanese leave, you can polish it and you can fix my hair with it. For now hide the books away and blow the candle out. We must sleep and save the candle for tomorrow night."

One hot, muggy day in June, while Inchun and I sat working on the tube socks, Aunt Tiger and Mother told us they had a plan. We were going to have a special surprise celebration for Haiwon's sixteenth birthday. Aunt Tiger insisted she would make a visit to my sister Theresa's convent to get one of those fancy books the nuns decorated with pictures of saints and angels. That would surely be something very special for Haiwon. Mother hesitated. It was her daughter, after all. "I'll go myself," she said. "You don't know the back route as I do."

The convent was in the countryside just outside of Pyongyang City. It was only twenty minutes away by train, but the Japanese Imperial police forbade anyone from traveling, so Mother had to go by foot on back roads. She really didn't want to go empty-handed; she had nothing to bring them. "But perhaps it is about time," Mother decided. "Maybe they will have some news about the war." The nuns often knew much more than the rest of us because of the radio hidden in the basement of the convent, and the occasional contact they had with American priests.

The next day, Mother left right after the police made their morning inspection in order to he able to return before dark. We all hoped that the Imperial police would not come back later in the day and notice her absence. Mother did so much work at the sock factory that the days when she went to the convent were extra busy for all of us. Kisa, Aunt Tiger, and I ran around twice as fast to get the work done. Even little Inchun and Grandfather came out to the yard to make it look busier in case the police suddenly appeared.

I wished I could have gone with Mother to see Theresa and the other nuns. Theresa, my oldest sibling, had entered the convent when I was very little. I remember visiting her there. She looked like a penguin in her long black gown and the little white veil on her head. But that was long ago. For the past two yeats, Mother had gone to see her alone. She said that most of the day was spent coming and going and the visit with Theresa and the nuns was very brief. It would be too much walking for me, and it was dangerous. If we were caught by the police, we would be questioned and punished for disobeying orders, and above all, for going to worship any other god than the Shinto god.

We all worried about Mothers safety when she left on these trips, but we knew how much she loved going to see the nuns. "Your mother would risk almost anything to see her firstborn at the convent," said Aunt Tiger. Mother always told us Theresa was an important part of all of our lives even though she was far away from us. I often wished that she were here so that I could talk to her. I remembered when Theresa told me how much she loved all of us. But if she loved us that much, why did she live so far away in that big house with strangers all dressed like penguins?

"That is the way it's supposed to be," said Mother. "God wanted Theresa to be a nun and she answered His call." I wondered if God would ever call me as He had called Theresa.

We were sorting the socks and tying them into bundles when Mother returned late that evening. "The Reverend Mother said the Japanese were doing poorly in the war," Mother said, picking up a pile of socks to examine. "The nuns are praying night and day for their defeat." Aunt Tiger looked at me, rolled her eyes, and left the room. She didn't think much of the nuns' prayers. But Aunt Tiger was glad to see that Mother had brought a small bag of pure white rice, just enough to make a few rice cookies. Mother didn't bring back any records this time, but she did have a small book of Christian stories full of pictures of colorful winged angels in Heaven. "You can look at it," Mother said to Inchun and me, "then you can wrap it up for Haiwon."

Inchun grabbed the book from me and ran into his room. I followed him and together we read the book. He got some paper and copied the pictures of the angels. I copied the passages and we made our own copy of this little book. We had to wrap it for Haiwon, but we wanted to make it special, so we took out a piece of white rice paper that Grandfather had given us, and drew lots of pictures and made our own fancy wrapping paper.

It was late at night and out rice-paper paneled doors were draped with thick blankets. We were all busy planning for Haiwon's birthday celebration. We heard Grandfather moving about in his room, and Mother and Aunt Tiger busy in the kitchen. Soon Kisa came by to check on us, and told us to turn off the lights. I felt too excited to go to sleep. Haiwon would be so surprised. I lay in the dark wishing it were morning.

The next morning I couldn't wait until Haiwon opened our little present wrapped with the special paper. The table was set much earlier than usual. Grandfather didn't meditate this morning. Even little Inchun was out early in the yard helping us. Instead of the few millet cookies and kettle of barley tea that usually awaited the girls, there was now a banquet for Haiwon. It was really a very humble feast, but a special occasion for us, since we had never before dared to have such a celebration. The little brass bowls with their matching tops had been brightly polished, and were now filled with hot soup. The brass plates held a few tiny white rice cookies, and the brass chopsticks shone in the sunlight. I could smell the hot beef broth, which we hadn't been able to have for a long time. We looked forward to the few minutes we could celebrate with Haiwon before the other girls arrived. Above all, we had to put everything away before the Imperial police came.

Haiwon came racing in looking as if she had just tumbled out of bed. She must have really rushed to arrive so early. She wore a worried expression as if she were thinking, "Is there something wrong? Didn't the soldiers like the socks I made?" Smiling, Mother met her and escorted her to her seat where the pretty package awaited her. She looked stunned when Mother told her that all this was in her honor, and she sat motionless. "Hurry and open your presents," Mother said. "We don't have much time."

As Haiwon opened her gift, her fingers trembled and tears began to well up in her eyes. She held the little book ever so tightly against her breast and she straightened the wrapping paper to see the drawings. She carefully rolled up the paper and put it in her bag. Inchun and I were happy to know that she liked our humble present as much as the little book. She bowed to Mother as she tried to hold back her tears. Haiwon's embarrassed delight made her look beautiful. Her face was flushed and for once she was speechless and remained silent long enough for me to see how pretty the shape of her mouth was. She seemed full of happy thoughts. Looking around me, I felt a big lump in my throat. As Haiwon wiped away her tears, she got up again and made another deep bow to Mother.

Then I saw Grandfather slowly come out of his room smiling. Haiwon was special to him. He and Haiwon's father had been good friends. Long ago, Mother had said to me, "I wish I could keep her and her mother with us. Your grandfather and Haiwon's father go back a long way.
Your grandfather used to teach Haiwon's father and his sons." Haiwon became even more flustered upon seeing Grandfather. She knew the honor that was being bestowed upon her. She got up and bowed deeply. Grandfather motioned for her to sit down and gave her a small package. Mother nudged her and said, "Quickly now ... we are running out of time." Haiwon unrolled the scroll of white rice paper. Grandfather had painted a beautiful winged horse flying toward the sky. Underneath it there were two Chinese characters in his fine calligraphy that said "thousand patience" and her name in
Hangul.
At Mothers urging, we ate hurriedly while the morning sun rose.

We lifted the lids of our soup bowls. The brass dishes were lovely and we each had a sliver of meat in our soup. Haiwon ate quickly in silence, trying to savor every taste. She hesitated to take a bite of the rice cake for a second and Mother said, "That is yours ... eat it now. I saved one for you to take home for your mother." We were very happy to see Haiwon enjoy this small treat as if it were the biggest banquet she had ever seen. Haiwon's smile made us all feel this was a grand day. I wished Kisa were here, but he was busy cleaning and greasing Haiwon's machine especially for her. We were all so happy that for a few moments, we forgot the Imperial police. We laughed and ate. It was enchanting for me. I felt I was in a faraway land where there were no worries of any kind. The warm June breeze touched my cheek and I couldn't remember ever having had such a good time.

Suddenly, I saw the gate to our yard swing open. I froze. Captain Narita and his two lieutenants quietly came marching into our yard. It was still much too early for them to be coming by, but there they were. At that moment, I could not help feeling that maybe they
were
gods. How could they possibly know when to appear? How did they know this was a special time for us? How?

Mother looked pale. Her eyes were fixed on Grandfather. Haiwon started to cry hysterically. The captain walked to our humble wooden table, and his sword clanked against his belt as he approached. The two lieutenants stood behind us and looked at our table in disbelief.

For a moment or two they were silent. Captain Narita eyed all the brassware and with his sword swept everything to the ground. The brass dishes, chopsticks, and soup spoons clanked against each other as they went tumbling. He saw the knitting bag resting against Haiwon's chair, and he motioned to one of his lieutenants. Haiwon's presents were opened and shown to the Captain. He looked at Grandfather's beautiful brush painting and at the little book. Captain Narita quietly signaled for these to be taken away. "Where did you get this?" he coolly inquired. Nobody answered. Haiwon sobbed uncontrollably. Captain Narita then looked at Grandfather, who sat with his eyes closed like a stone statue.

Stroking his mustache, Captain Narita paced around the table where we remained seated. The best thing to do when he came was to lower one's eyes and wait. I had heard that many times from the sock girls, but I had to look at him. Except for Grandfather's and mine, everyone's eyes were lowered in silence.

Captain Narita whispered in a chilling monotone, "So, you are doing something on your own again. Did you forget that there is a war going on and that we must do all we can to help the Imperial soldiers fight the White Devils?" Then he looked at Mother and said, "Metal is not for your use. The soldiers need it for weapons. The dishes must be sent to my office at once."

Then he walked over to my grandfather and glared at him. Grandfather remained seated erect with his eyes closed and his jaw set. Captain Narita stared at my grandfather for a long time and, looking at Mother's pale face, he said, "When will you stupid Koreans understand that you are our subjects and there is nothing we, the Imperial police of the Heavenly race, do not know about your activities. There is nothing we cannot do. If you value tins old man's life, you'd better remember that you are our subjects."

He smiled with satisfaction and walked out as calmly as he had come in. One of his lieutenants had Haiwon's presents tucked under his arm. The other told us they would be back for the metal dishes and we had better have them cleaned and prepared for pickup. For them it was as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

No one said a word. Grandfather opened his eyes and pensively stared down at his hands for a while. Then I noticed he was trembling. His face was pale, gloomy. He looked angry and humiliated. I had never seen him like this. I didn't know what to do. Mother and Aunt Tiger rushed to help him indoors, but he pushed both of them away. "I can go in alone," he said. "I shall never come out again. Throw my shoes away."

I hated Captain Narita for doing this to my aged grandfather. Was there no respect for one's elders?

Haiwon continued to sob hysterically, blaming herself and apologizing to Mother. "No, no," said Mother. "It isn't anyone's fault. Captain Narita has been doing this all his life in Korea. Every time he squeezes a little tighter." Mother hugged Haiwon and comforted her and promised her a real birthday party after the war was over. Then she went to see Grandfather.

Meanwhile, Aunt Tiger started picking up the bowls. "I didn't like the way Captain Narita left so quietly. He has something up his sleeve," she said.

Aunt Tiger was right. That afternoon two young Japanese-trained Korean police came into our yard and told Mother that they had come to chop down the pine tree. Aunt Tiger muttered with disgust, "
Chin-il-pa,
" which means friend of Japan, or traitor. The two young boys stared down at the ground in silence.

"Let them be," said Mother to Aunt Tiger. "They have to do whatever they're told. Let the Japanese have the tree. They can cut it down or dig it up or do whatever they want. What does it matter." Aunt Tiger looked even angrier. She started to wail and pound on her chest with her fists. Mother grabbed Aunt Tiger, pulled her inside,
and said harshly, "Stop that! Stop it! Don't let the Japanese have your soul. We can't let them make us crazy. That is exactly what they want."

Aunt Tiger continued to cry bitterly as the police began hacking our tree to pieces. I wondered how Captain Narita knew that destroying the tree was the best way to punish Grandfather for writing Chinese and
Hangul.

When the tree had been hacked to pieces, the young policemen left. Mother and Aunt Tiger were inside taking cate of Grandfather. Mother sent Kisa to fetch a Buddhist monk. If we were lucky, the monk would visit us at night with his herbal medicine. I was told to stay in my room, but I sat outside Grandfather's door. It was quiet in his room, but I heard Aunt Tiger sobbing softly and whispering to Mother, "The Imperial police love making Koreans hurt each other. They let the Koreans do all the dirty work and then tell us 'You Koreans do it to yourselves; we Imperial soldiers do no such thing.'" Mother said nothing.