Seok Chun lit another cigarette and smoked it out of distress. He unconsciously let the cigarette burn to the filter before putting it out.
“Our married life was happy, like other newlyweds,” continued Seok Chun.
No words could express Seok Chun’s elation. He arranged a place in the city where he and Sun Hee could start their new lives as a married couple. He helped Sun Hee land a job as a lathe operator among the thousands of workers at his factory in Gang An. Rumors of Sun Hee spread throughout the factory. Seok Chun was unabashedly proud of his beautiful and talented wife.
Not long after she settled into her new surroundings, Sun Hee joined the Factory Arts Troupe, which desperately needed a talented singer. Whenever she finished rehearsing for upcoming performances and returned to the factory for the night shift, her coworkers would tell her to go home and rest. She had become the pride of the factory, and they thought it was more important that she sing than operate the lathe.
The days had passed like the cool rapids.
A son was born after they had been married two years.
One evening, Sun Hee returned from work with signs of irritation and dissatisfaction on her face. The couple sat across from each other at the dinner table in utter silence.
Seok Chun perceived that something was troubling his wife, but he did not inquire into the matter. He knew, after two years of being married to her, that Sun Hee was a strong-willed woman, insistent on resolving her own problems. She hardly ever spoke about her troubles or turned to him for help.
In the course of several months, the couple’s conversations had become more infrequent, but Seok Chun could not identify the source of Sun Hee’s change in attitude. He decided to wait for her to open up to him and initiate a conversation. Besides, he did not think much of it nor consider the possibility of marital problems between the two of them because Sun Hee continued doing the things she had been doing—washing his clothes, ironing his trousers, selecting his clothes every morning, and even tying his necktie for him. She did these not because they were the mandated duties of a housewife but because she had a quiet ambition to make her husband stand out, appear dignified, be respected among the ordinary factory workers. While Seok Chun appreciated her efforts, he preferred to live a simpler life, devoid of pretension and snobbery.
After dinner, Sun Hee put little Ho Nam to bed and then studied her new music sheets.
Seok Chun retired to his desk in the master bedroom to review the blueprints that he had started at work. It was not an actual blueprint but a sketch of his new lathe machine that was clumsily drawn on drafting paper. The other technicians and engineers at the factory had expressed difficulty understanding his sketches because the inconsistent configurations, proportions and scales, axes, and symmetry failed to conform to basic principles of engineering and design. Only Seok Chun understood his diagrams. He had never received proper training or education in engineering; experience was his teacher.
Sun Hee put her music sheets down for the evening and got ready for bed. She loosened her hair, which had been tied up all day, and curled up underneath the blanket.
“Um, honey,” Sun Hee called, breaking the silence.
Sun Hee didn’t speak, instead counting the ticks of the clock that hung on the wall. Seok Chun was pleased to hear Sun Hee taking the initiative in starting a conversation with him, something that had been lacking between the two for many days. And yet, Seok Chun’s brusque personality overpowered his intention to respond gently.
“Well, hurry up and speak,” urged Seok Chun without lifting his eyes from his sketches.
“Um, don’t you think it’s strange that both of us work in the same department?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean …”
“Did someone say something to you?”
“No, I was just thinking to myself how strange it is,” muttered Sun Hee.
Seok Chun sensed that something had been bothering her and that she had been thinking about this issue for quite some time.
Seok Chun asked, “So what’s really on your mind?”
“I … thought about … quitting the lathe,” stuttered Sun Hee.
“Is it difficult?”
“That, too. But I really want to be a singer …”
“You already sing for the Factory Arts Troupe. Isn’t that enough?”
Seok Chun spat out his words without thinking and realized that he may have been insensitive to Sun Hee’s concerns, especially when a moment like this was rare between them. He knew that she had always wanted to be a professional singer and that they would talk about this matter one day, but he did not expect this discussion to come so soon, particularly when she had worked at the factory for only a couple of years.
Seok Chun tossed and turned in bed that night, thinking about what she had said and even feeling a little sorry for her. He had often worried about Sun Hee having to work alongside other men on the lathe machine day after day, night after night. He realized he had not considered her aspirations and the opportunities that awaited her. He had been complacent because she sang for an amateur group. After all, he thought, she was already doing something she liked to do, and he further rationalized that people did not attain their dreams just because they had them. But he also thought that a professional singing career at the Provincial Performing Arts Company would be an admirable occupation, a real dream come true for her.
Fortunately, Seok Chun no longer had to worry about Sun Hee’s occupational problem; officials at the factory took the initiative to recommend her to the Provincial Performing Arts Company. They felt she was better suited to the performing world than the industrial world.
Seok Chun was overjoyed for her, not only because she had achieved her desires but also because he hoped her exhilaration would rekindle the fading embers of their love and restore the family stability of the early days of their marriage.
As soon as Sun Hee started working at the Provincial Performing Arts Company, her face glowed with happiness as she ascended from misery to ecstasy. When she returned home from work, she would bring up conversational topics with Seok Chun that she would not have broached before—asking about his new project, the people she had worked with at the factory, and other trivial matters. Seok Chun was happy for Sun Hee and pleased with the restored harmony at home.
Sun Hee was quicker at honing her skills than her colleagues, and within a year, she became the lead mezzo-soprano in the province. Her innate talent for singing coupled with her insatiable ambition and hard work made her successful and immensely popular. She had become a celebrity and basked in the spotlight, receiving standing ovations and bundles of flowers, signing autographs, being recognized on the street or in other public spaces, and receiving fan mail.
Sun Hee was overjoyed and grateful for the opportunity to sing professionally. There was nothing that excited her more than performing onstage in front of thousands of people, touring the province, and greeting her fans. Singing was her passion, and being a celebrity had become her life.
Months had passed, and Sun Hee’s jubilation waned. One evening, she returned from work, stood aloof from Seok Chun and her child, gazed at the living room, her living situation, and felt that her life, like a circle, had returned to the familiar place of emptiness and monotony.
Sun Hee did not discuss her emotions with Seok Chun, but he sensed that her dissatisfaction and frustrations were aimed at him. Despite the unnerving atmosphere, Seok Chun continued to do what he had been doing for Sun Hee. After work, he would pick up Ho Nam from the nursery, prepare dinner, put Ho Nam to bed, and then wait for Sun Hee to come home, hoping to move her, or at the very least, show her that he was supportive. None of these gestures pleased her anymore.
It appeared that Sun Hee was not satisfied with married life. She refrained from speaking much at home other than a few necessary words to her son. Toward Seok Chun, Sun Hee seemed to have closed her heart, locking her emotions in an impenetrable vault. She was certainly
not trying to exhibit her strong-willed, independent personality to Seok Chun by maintaining her silence at home. It was clear to Seok Chun that she was frustrated with him. Although he did not know the exact reason, he had his suspicions. As much as he wanted to discuss the unsettling issue with Sun Hee, he waited patiently for an opportune moment. Meanwhile, Seok Chun scrupulously helped with the chores around the house, thinking Sun Hee would appreciate his efforts at trying to restore their deteriorating marriage.
One evening, Seok Chun finished the chores, prepared dinner, and sat with his son on his lap, waiting for Sun Hee to return from the theater.
When Sun Hee came home, she brought with her an air of irritation. If not for their son sitting in the room, the atmosphere would have been intolerably dismal. After glancing at the dinner that Seok Chun had prepared, Sun Hee became more vexed and complained, “I don’t feel any better when you do this.”
“I know you’re tired, so I wanted to help you,” responded Seok Chun.
“Look. I don’t appreciate your cooking for me like this. Besides, it’s the woman’s responsibility,” retorted Sun Hee. “And even if I’m tired, I can still make dinner for us. Is it a big deal if we eat later? You should not be wasting your time cooking, but studying. You should be studying.”
“Here we go again,” Seok Chun muttered, rolling his eyes.
Seok Chun had suspected that Sun Hee’s frustration with him concerned his unwillingness to pursue higher education. She had brought up this matter for many years, and tonight was no exception.
“Don’t sit around like this,” Sun Hee persisted. “You should enroll in the Engineering College and do something with your life.”
Seok Chun, a bit annoyed, raised his voice. “You want me to waste five years of my life in a classroom?”
“It could help you,” Sun Hee countered.
“How can a name on a stupid diploma help me?”
“It’s not the diploma. It’s a degree in engineering. With it, you can be the top engineer at your factory.”
“Have you forgotten that I am the top lathe operator?” yelled Seok Chun, flustered. “I am perfectly satisfied as an operator without a diploma. I go to the factory and I turn the lathe. I like living a simple life.”
“You promised to follow your dreams when we got married,” Sun Hee cried.
“I did,” Seok Chun retorted. “What do you think I’ve been doing at work all these years?”
“All you do is turn the lathe. It’s a mindless job! Anyone can do that.”
“But not as well as I can.”
“It’s not innovative,” Sun Hee argued.
“I come up with new machines!”
“How? With those childish drawings of yours? No wonder you’ve been struggling with your projects.”
“So you think I’m stupid? You think I’ve been wasting my time?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You haven’t been productive with your work at all. With an engineering degree, you could’ve been a supervisor or an executive by now.”
“A supervisor? An executive?” Seok Chun was flabbergasted. “What has gotten into you? You married me for who I am, but you’ve changed over the years.”
She was at a loss for words, not because she had nothing to say but because there were too many things she wanted to say. Instead, she turned her head away from him.
The dinner on the table was left untouched.
Seok Chun tried to understand Sun Hee’s point of view but could not find any fault in himself. He felt he had done nothing wrong—he worked diligently at the factory, took care of the chores, and genuinely supported his wife’s celebrity lifestyle.
However, compassion for Sun Hee withered in Seok Chun’s heart, and instead resistance surged. Seok Chun believed Sun Hee had forgotten about her humble beginnings and exuded pride and vanity as a celebrity. He did not feel the need to advance his career just to please Sun Hee. He no longer cared what she had to say about him, and he decided to live the way he wanted to and let her live the way she wanted. Sun Hee’s nagging had slowly eroded his pride over the years, and it was now irreparably damaged.
After that tumultuous evening, Seok Chun never made dinner for Sun Hee again. After work, he would stop by the factory recreation center and play chess with other comrades or work on his sketches for his new machine at the factory. To others, Seok Chun seemed to have control over his life, passion for his work, and a plan that was being fulfilled; they were not aware of his decaying marriage.
One afternoon, Sun Hee was hand-washing Seok Chun’s clothes in the bathroom. She pursed her lips and scrubbed the grease stains with all her might, but it appeared that the stains were the least of her concerns. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with her forearm, straightened her back, and then resumed her crouching position to scrub the clothes. Seok Chun was in his room, transcribing his ideas into his sketchbook. He glanced over at Sun Hee and noticed that she was violently scrubbing his pants on the washboard. She was so engulfed in her thoughts that she did not even respond to her son’s call. She stopped scrubbing the clothes, placed her soapy hands on her knees, and called out to Seok Chun.
“How much longer do you need to work on your new machine?”
“Just a little bit more,” he replied.
Shaking her head, she muttered, “It’s always the same answer. You said that two months ago, last year, and the year before that.”
“I’ve done a lot since then. I’m really certain about this one.”
“Last time you compensated the factory for the wasted alloy. What next? The electric lamps?”
“Why are you bringing that up again?”
“Because I heard that the Materials Committee recently held a meeting to, perhaps, exempt you from having to pay for all those wasted parts? But, no,” said Sun Hee in a bitter tone, “you had to insist on paying for everything.”
“It’s absolutely my responsibility to pay for the parts I misused.”
“Forget about the money; your reputation is at stake. It’s embarrassing to hear others talk about your ineptitude. It’s your job, and you can’t even do it right.”
Sun Hee’s acerbic words lacerated Seok Chun’s pride, deepening the wound. He tried to suppress his fit of anger, as he came close to striking her with his fist.
Sun Hee perceived a violent atmosphere and tried to refrain from making any more critical remarks. But she could not remain silent about the issue; she felt the urge to say one more thing. She disposed of the soapy water and took another shot at Seok Chun.
“I don’t know what you’re drawing over there, but whatever it is, you know it’s not going to work.”
Seok Chun glared at Sun Hee and responded resolutely, “I don’t care what you have to say.”
Sun Hee shook her head in disdain. “You’re really something, you know that? You have no ambition to go to college. Your project shows no sign of progress. You turned down a position as a supervisor at your factory. I don’t know anymore. You tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
Seok Chun raised his voice, “All you do is insult me! That’s all you’re capable of.”
He slammed his fist on the desk. “I am a lathe operator, and a proud one. Didn’t you marry me knowing that?”
Sun Hee yelled back in a shrill, piercing voice. “What does our past have anything to do with what we’re talking about now? Who cares what we did in the past? I care about how we live today and how we’re going to live tomorrow!”
They glared at each other with menacing rage. Seok Chun could not think of a coherent response to counter Sun Hee. Resentment pervaded the chilly atmosphere between the two, and after a seemingly intolerable moment of silence, Sun Hee spoke.
“How can we live like this? There needs to be some kind of change in our life.” She sighed grievously. “Our future looks bleak. Do whatever you want, but just know that you need to change your life so that our lives can improve.”
“Do you really think that?” Seok Chun asked
suspiciously.
“Yes,” Sun Hee said adamantly. “You’ve walled yourself, Ho Nam, and me up in this … this impenetrable prison. Why can’t you see that?”
“What? So you think it’s my fault? Is that what it is?”
“How else can you see it?”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Can’t you see that you’re a bitch!”
Sun Hee was flabbergasted by Seok Chun.
Silence ended their argument.
Out of spite, Sun Hee stopped tending to Seok Chun’s needs. She felt that washing his clothes and ironing his pants were unnecessary. He’s just going to the factory to turn the lathe; he doesn’t need clean clothes, she thought. Sun Hee also stopped doing some of the other household chores that she used to do. She did not want to be burdened by those menial tasks anymore. They were meaningless to her, and, more importantly, she did not care.
Based on their outward appearance, others believed the family to be harmonious, unperturbed by marital problems. However, Seok Chun worked late nights at the factory and Sun Hee came home late because of back-to-back performances. The two avoided each other, but they also neglected their son. There were days, of course, when they would not argue and not get under each other’s skin. Yet they still harbored bitterness toward each other, maintaining the abyss between them.
On the day of their son’s birthday, Seok Chun brought home an apprentice and an elderly equipment manager from the factory. Upon entering the living room, they saw there were already two of Sun Hee’s guests sitting on the floor. Sun Hee was cooking in the kitchen.
It had been a while since the house was filled with laughter and chatter. Delicious dishes decorated the table and were certainly reflective of a grand party. Dark red wine and cold beer filled the glasses to the brim. They raised their drinks to wish Ho Nam the best as the future of the nation and immediately downed them.
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