“What are you smiling about?” Youngsook asked.
I stared at the ocean-blue stripes on the comforter and shrugged. “I don’t think Teacher Shim’s that good-looking.”
Kyunghee slid a fashion magazine out from underneath her fluffy pillow. A woman in a red dress with a white collar tilted her head at the camera. “I bet he likes women like this. Don’t you think?”
I didn’t know who she was talking about anymore—Teacher Shim or the rocker—but I nodded, matching Youngsook’s excitement.
Youngsook checked the time. “I have to go soon. You promised to let me try it on.”
“Try what on?” I asked.
Kyunghee brushed her bangs out of her eyes and swung her feet off the bed. “Youngsook’s growing. You better catch up.” From her dresser, she pulled out a white brassiere. The cups looked like sleepy, half-closed eyes. “Put it on.”
“Here?” Youngsook asked.
“I’ll show you mine if it makes you feel better.”
Kyunghee wasn’t just pretty in a twelve-year-old way. Even teachers stared at her longer than they should. Fathers, boys from the partner school, strangers on the street. It was obvious that she was a student with her short hair, but it didn’t matter. The slow tilt to her eyes, the way she scanned the men around her as if she knew what they were thinking, how she walked with her breasts pushed forward—her looks glinted like the sharp edge of a knife.
Kyunghee pulled off her shirt. She wore the same white brassiere underneath. Her breasts looked soft and powdery, like injulmi cakes.
“What if your mother comes in?” I asked.
“She would knock first.” Kyunghee shrugged. “She read it in one of her ‘Modern Women’ articles. Come on.”
Youngsook giggled and tossed off her shirt. She was growing, it was true, but her lumps pointed to the sides. Her nipples were brown and too small. “Help me put it on.”
Kyunghee clasped the band behind Youngsook’s back and surveyed the fit. Her hand hovered over Youngsook’s right breast, as if she were about to squeeze or pet her. She brushed the edge of the white cup instead. “You’ll need to get a smaller size, but this looks good. Very natural.” She turned to me. “What about you?”
I shook my head. There wasn’t anything to see and they knew it. “I’m not growing yet.”
“Come on, show us.” Kyunghee pulled up her straps, so her breasts looked like they were jumping. “You’ve got to have a little by now.”
Youngsook twirled, gliding her chest from side to side. “Don’t be a baby about it. You’re so boring sometimes.” She sat on the bed, still shirtless. Kyunghee did, too. Their stitched brassiere cups and belly buttons looked like faces making fun of me.
“I am not.”
“You are. You’re an angel.”
They grinned with their shiny white teeth.
Kyunghee clapped. “I have a tiny brassiere from last year. That might work.”
“I have something better than a brassiere. I have a real secret,” I said.
Youngsook glanced at me, only half paying attention. She wanted to touch her new womanly parts and the cloth that covered them. I could tell from the way her fingers twitched against her knee. She adjusted her band instead.
“It’s so bad I don’t even know if I can tell you,” I said. “It’s about a grown-up doing something sexy.”
Kyunghee nodded lazily, as if she used that word all the time, but her eyes focused on me. “Tell us, then.”
Youngsook hugged a pillow. “What is it?”
I pushed myself onto the bed. They made room for me until we kneeled in a triangle. “Promise to keep it a secret?”
“Tell us,” they said. “We promise.”
“All right.” I took a breath and closed my eyes. I waited until one of them nudged me. “Teacher Shim is having a sex affair. With a student.”
They gasped the way I had wanted. Youngsook covered her mouth; Kyunghee shrieked with a hand on her forehead like a woman about to faint.
“With who?”
“How do you know?”
“Tell us everything.”
When I returned home, the girls and Mother were spread out in the study, which was really Uncle Hyunki’s old room. Jieun frowned through her multiplication problems, Mother napped by the windows, and Mila and Eunhee played with their paper dolls.
“Hi, Solee-unnie,” Mila said. “I did my homework already.”
“Hi, Solee-unnie,” Eunhee copied in her garbled way, moving her paper doll up Mila’s shoulder. “Rabbit Girl climb mountain.”
“This problem makes no sense.” Jieun twirled her pencil. “Why are you so late?”
“School stuff,” I said.
“Mommy thinks you should have come home to help.” Jieun held up her work. “I hate math.”
“Mother knows math, too,” I said. “She could have helped you.”
“She said she didn’t.” Jieun stretched her thin arms. “Want to finish the rest for me? Please, Unnie? I’ll give you a chocolate.”
“Jieun.” Mother opened her eyes. It was warm with the windows shut, and sweat shined her forehead. “You should have been here, Solee,” she said as she picked at her shirt. “Until Daddy comes back, you need to help.”
Jieun and I quieted. Father had left without telling us. Even mentioning his name made Mila and Eunhee cry. I avoided Mother’s gaze. “I was studying.”
“You think you’re more important than everyone else, Yun Solee?”
“That’s not what I said.” I hugged my backpack. I had my own homework to do. Mother didn’t see me, but still she asked me for everything.
“That’s how you act.” She raised herself up slowly and shook her head like an old dog. She flicked an eraser in my direction. She was mean and lazy and picked on me. I hated her sometimes. “Answer me. You think you can do whatever you want in this house?”
“Mama?” Eunhee whispered. I heard Mila and Jieun hush her.
I didn’t look their way. I picked up the eraser, twisted its squishy green form between my fingers. “I’m going to change.”
“You need to—”
I threw the eraser and turned to the door before she could say anything else. “I’ll help them later.”
In my room, I prayed with Halmuni’s God necklace. The beads were carved with delicate roses and the cross dangled to my navel. The necklace, with its tired-looking Jesus, made me feel like I was praying the right way. I repeated, “Sorry, Teacher Shim,” until it turned into a chant. He lent me books and didn’t hit me if I turned in a homework sheet with Eunhee’s scribbles on the back.
“We promise we won’t say anything,” Kyunghee and Youngsook had said, before they’d pushed for more details. When I couldn’t remember, we imagined them with so much force they’d seemed real. Maybe Teacher Shim and the girl had been kissing before I entered. Their faces had been red; their lips, too.
I had the Jesus in my mouth when Jieun walked in. “What are you doing?” She sat beside me.
“Nothing.” I slipped the necklace under my shirt and lay on our mat the way Kyunghee had, as if the ceiling held some important, mysterious answer. I made my eyes sleepy and hummed “The Woman in Rain.” “I listened to a rock song on an LP machine today.”
Jieun scooted next to me on the mat. “What’s that?”
“Like on the radio, but you can listen whenever you want because it lives inside this black plate.”
“Maybe Daddy will bring one home for us.” She threaded her fingers through my hair. “Do you think he will?”
“Maybe.” I tickled her knee to distract her from talking about Father. “My friend showed me a picture of a rock star today. You know who he reminded me of?”
“Who?”
“Uncle Kyunghwan.” I started singing the words. “Unforgettable woman.”
Jieun tried to hum along. She lay down, too. Our heads bumped and we giggled. “I only remember him this much.” She pinched the air. “He had hair on his arms and I
saw him dancing once.”
“He was handsome.”
“Mommy said you’re a selfish girl.”
I pulled out the necklace and squeezed the Jesus. I didn’t want Jieun to worry about Mother. “She’s probably tired.”
“I guess.” She turned so our foreheads touched. “Can you teach me the song?”
I trilled the words. Jieun bobbed her head against mine. She caught on quickly and we sang together, laughing through the parts we didn’t know. “I cannot forget her.”
The next morning, I wanted to go to church. My friends attended every Sunday, wearing pretty white veils on their heads. I asked Mother as we cooked breakfast. She boiled potatoes and spinach while I scooped rice.
“Why do you want to go? Are you a sinner, Solee?” She curled her lips at me for a second.
I poured kkakdugi into banchan plates. “Are you mad at me because I was late yesterday?”
Mother laughed, wild, as if something was really funny. She wiped her brows and passed me the bowls. “Halmuni used to bring you to church sometimes. Go if you want, but I’m not taking you. Call your sisters.”
The girls collected their meals on individual tray tables. We ate in silence outside the kitchen. Without Father, there was no point in arranging the dining table. Mother still set aside a covered bowl of rice for him, and we couldn’t start until she had. The rules remained, just a little unclear.
“Eat,” she said.
The food was tasteless. Even Mila shifted the spinach around her bowl. Mother had forgotten to go to the market. I knew it, and she did, too.
“What is this?” Jieun held a wet strand of spinach with her chopsticks.
“I think we need some soy sauce,” I said. “Should I get some?”
“Food is for nourishment, to keep you from going hungry. Taste is second.” Mother sipped her water in quick, tiny gulps. “Use the kkakdugi for flavor if you need to.”
We did as she told us. The red-tinged rice with kimchi radish, blobs of potatoes, and stringy bits of spinach didn’t taste much better. Mother was away, her mind folded into thoughts that had nothing to do with us. Sometimes I thought she was happier inside her head.
I’ll make lunch, I mouthed to the girls.
“Mama?” Eunhee rolled her spoon so it clattered. She was the only one who still didn’t know better. “When Daddy come?”
“Eunhee,” Jieun warned.
Mother shook her arm as if we’d been tugging at her and shifted her attention back to the meal. Her voice was murky, as if a screen separated us. “When he’s done with whatever he’s doing. That’s when he’ll come back.” She rose. “Maybe he’s in Vietnam. Maybe he joined the war.” She laughed and looked down at us. Her wrinkled hanbok collar exposed a triangle of pale, eggy neck. “You cook next time, Solee.”
I rose. “I’m going to take them to church. I’ll clean up when we come home.”
“You think you’re so grown-up.” She held my chin tight, until it almost hurt, until her hard, blunt nails grooved into my skin. “Maybe you are. Maybe I’m just the idiot mother. Take them with you, then.”
She jerked my head into a quick whip of a nod. I didn’t understand the look on her face.
I turned to my sisters in front of the church. We wore matching yellow dresses, black shined shoes. I flattened the collars around their necks. The frilly seaming itched. We’d all complained about them at one point or another, but these dresses were the best we had. “Here.” I handed them paper crosses. “I’m wearing this today”—I pointed to Halmuni’s necklace—“but we can take turns every week. This is serious business. We have to stay quiet and not fight, okay?”
Jieun and Mila nodded. Eunhee stared at her shoes. She was too heavy for me to carry anymore, but I hefted her into my arms anyway. “Will you be good for me?”
“We sing here?” She rested her head against my neck.
We walked up the steps and entered as quietly as we could. Inside, a rust-red carpet led to a little stage. Families, grandmothers, aunties, and bald-headed grandfathers sat in the wooden pews. I chose the second to last one on the right and ushered the girls to their seats.
“I see my friend.” Jieun pointed. “There in the gray shirt.”
We played a game, identifying classmates and their families. I found Kyunghee and a few others. When the priest entered in his violet robes, we hushed. The church people stood. I made us stand, too. We copied everyone else. How they held their hands out by their sides, how they swayed just a little and sang from a paper booklet, how they kneeled on the floor to pray. Some had brought cushions for their knees. I wished I had been that smart.
“What do we pray about?” Mila asked.
“Whatever you want. Nothing selfish. Not for candy,” I said.
Jieun grinned. “I’m going to, just in case.”
I prayed for Father to come home soon, and I prayed for my lying. Mother had raged when she’d found out that he was gone. Still, I’d stayed quiet. I didn’t tell anyone how he’d woken me early in the morning eight days ago. When he nudged my shoulder, I thought I’d overslept and sat up right away. “I’m going out of town for work.” He placed an envelope on my knee. “Some money, in case something happens. Promise not to use it unless you have to.” He held my head between his palms, like he was weighing it. “What do you want to do, Solee?”
“Now?” I whispered back. Jieun shifted next to me, and Father stilled until her breath steadied.
“When you grow up,” he said. “What do you want to be when you’re an adult?”
I’d never been asked a question like this by him or Mother. I didn’t know the right answer. “A mommy?”
“Tell the truth.”
A college student like Uncle Hyunki. A teacher. A maker of houses, buildings, bridges. There were things I could have said, but I didn’t. My mouth stayed shut until Father shook his head. He petted my hair and told me to go back to sleep.
I prayed he wasn’t in Vietnam, as Mother had joked. Teacher Shim had shown us an article about our soldiers going to war there. We’d passed around the paper, careful to hold the edges of the thin gray sheet. I hadn’t read the words, distracted by the picture of Korean soldiers. One man stared right at the camera. His eyes were two black gonggi stones surrounded by white, and he had a wilted mouth. His skin looked grimy, as if he’d been speckled with dirt or blood or fear.
The priest hit a small gong and stepped down from his stage. People lined up before him. Women and men opened their mouths. He placed something white and circular on their tongues.
“What’s that?” Jieun asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“I want to try.” She squeezed into the aisle. I grabbed the back of her dress, but she wrenched away. We watched her wait in line. She held up her head like she’d done this before.
When she reached the front, the priest bent to her level. He might have smiled, but he didn’t place a white circle in her mouth. Mila and Eunhee held on to the back of the pew in front of us. “Solee-unnie?”
“Don’t make a fuss,” I said under my breath. “Jieun, you better not.”
The people waiting behind her forced Jieun to walk on. She didn’t whine or cross her arms, but when a friend of hers tried to catch her attention, she pretended not to notice. She strode with her head raised, right past us, through the doors, and into the street. A few rows ahead, Kyunghee raised her eyebrows at me.
“Oh, Jieun.” I brushed the God necklace against my lips. It had a faint rosy smell. “Let’s go.” I grabbed Mila’s hand, who grabbed Eunhee’s hand, and we walked down the aisle as fast as we could.
Outside, I yelled at Jieun. “Why did you do that? You embarrassed us in front of all those people!”
She sat on the steps with her back to us. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was rolling her eyes. She was never afraid of me. “It was boring anyway.”
“Then I’ll come by myself from now on.” I started down the road with Mila and Eunhee. I could h
ear Jieun coming after us, but I didn’t slow down.
“He wasn’t mad,” she said as she caught up. “He told me we’d have to take classes first.”
“What classes?” Mila asked.
“I don’t know. Church classes.” Jieun tried to loop her arm through mine. I pushed her away. Turning to each of them, I ripped up their paper crosses. That made Eunhee cry, but I didn’t care.
We walked on in silence. As we turned the corner past a new clothing shop, Kim Junghee stopped me. She was one of the loudest first-years at my school, always bragging about chewing gum and then getting caught the next second. I didn’t notice her until her chubby face was right in front of mine. “So,” she asked, “is it true?”
“Is what true?”
She took a step back but stood fast. Whatever she wanted was more pressing than my anger. She tilted her head. “You saw Teacher Shim naked with a student?”
Mila clutched Eunhee and yelled, “That’s not allowed!”
“A teacher was naked?” Jieun asked. “How?”
“That’s disgusting!” I waved my arms. “That never happened!”
Junghee smirked.
“Who said that?” I asked.
“What did it look like? His man parts?”
I wanted to hit her. Little Eunhee was there. Mila, too. I wanted to call her a dirty girl with a loose mouth, but no words came out. I looked at Junghee’s smug face, at my sisters.
“Well?” Junghee crossed her arms. “What’re you being so shy about now? Maybe it was you who was naked?”
Jieun stepped between us. “My unnie said she didn’t see anything.”
Junghee stared down at Jieun. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Tell them they’re wrong.” Jieun linked my arm in hers and we walked away in a row.
“You’re lying!” Junghee called after me. “You saw him!”
“Eat shit!” Jieun yelled back, turning all the way around and placing her hands on her hips.
Jieun squeezed my elbow as we watched Junghee retreat. Happiness washed over her long, thin face, her furrowed eyebrows and sharp mouth. She was breathing hard but grinning. “Remember what Mommy said? When they make fun of us, you say the foulest thing you can think of, or they’ll keep coming back.”
If You Leave Me Page 29