by Samuel Park
He stared back into her eyes. “I think one should always tell the truth. Except in situations like this.”
Soo-Ja’s heart leapt and then sunk. But she knew that she had no right to be disappointed. She was the one who turned away from him when he asked her to marry him, who refused when he first held out his hand and said, Try me, and be happy.
“Chamara, Soo-Ja. Chamara,” said Yul. Chamara. What is the word that comes closest to it? Soo-Ja wondered. To stand it, to bear it, to grit your teeth and not cry out? To hold on, to wait until the worst is over? There is no other word for it, no way to translate it. It is not a word. It is a way to console yourself. He is not just telling her to stand the pain, but giving her comfort, the power to do so. Chamara is an incantation, and if she listens to its sound, she believes that she can do it, that she will push through this sadness. And if she is strong about it, she’ll be rewarded in the end. It is a way of saying, I know, I feel it, too. This burns my heart, too.
chapter nine
When Soo-Ja opened the door triumphant, with Hana in her arms, feeling like Admiral Yi Sun-Shin back from his campaigns, the house awoke and Mother-in-law scrambled to turn the lights on. Soo-Ja knew they must have been in a state of suspense for the last two days. And then she saw him: Min on the floor, at first half asleep, then wide awake, leaping to reach for his daughter. Everyone gathered around them, with Mother-in-law clapping her hands, and the boys smiling and waiting for their turn to pet Hana. How odd to see them like this, thought Soo-Ja. Did they, in the end, love Hana more than she gave them credit for? Father-in-law was the only one not there, though her wondering about him didn’t last very long, caught up as she was in the warmth and excitement of Hana’s reception. This was truly a family, after all.
Soo-Ja knew Hana was tired and should be put to bed. She was tired, too. She had spent the last twenty hours on her feet, and she felt ready to topple over any second now. But she could not stop this scene, so rare and wonderful it was: everyone fussing over Hana, kissing her cheeks and taking turns holding and hugging her. Theirs was not an affectionate extended family. For all she knew, this might be the last time Hana experienced this kind of love from them.
Finally, after many hallelujahs from Mother-in-law and a thousand cheers from the boys, Soo-Ja told them they should all go to bed. Hana herself could barely keep her eyes open. In a matter of minutes, all the noise gave way to a placid quiet, as if all of them had been given a potion from an apothecary. Their eyelids grew heavy, and they fell asleep in one swoop, all at once, their bodies covering the floor in all kinds of shapes, looking like one giant figure with many limbs.
In the middle of the night, Soo-Ja woke to use the chamber pot and found Na-yeong still awake. Soo-Ja told her to go to sleep, but Na-yeong said she could not. Soo-Ja decided to use the outhouse instead, in spite of the cold. As she rose to leave, she heard Na-yeong call out for her. Soo-Ja made a shhh sound and lowered herself back, coming to sit next to where she lay.
“What is it?” Soo-Ja asked.
“Are you going to tell them that I lost Hana in the market?” Na-yeong asked sheepishly.
“You didn’t tell them that?” Soo-Ja had wondered why no one had come to help her look for Hana. So that was why.
Na-yeong inhaled a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want them to know I followed you. That was wrong of me.”
“Na-yeong, I don’t really feel like speaking to you right now.”
But Na-yeong continued. “They were looking for Hana all over the neighborhood. I felt a little silly, watching them call out for her, when I knew she was nowhere near.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone that you followed me, or that you lost Hana in the market,” said Soo-Ja frostily. It wasn’t all forgiveness—she simply doubted that her in-laws would punish Na-yeong. But it didn’t matter—she had Hana back.
“Thank you.”
Na-yeong turned, as if to sleep, but Soo-Ja was wide awake now. Na-yeong had passed on her restlessness to her. “When did Min come back?” asked Soo-Ja.
“Right after you left. My mother told Du-Ho and Chung-Ho to go to the hiding place and tell oppa what happened. The three of them were looking everywhere for you and Hana. Oppa was very sad. He thought he’d lost both of you.”
Soo-Ja thought about Min having to go back to the hiding place tomorrow. So that’s how long the happy ending lasted—only a few hours.
“And where’s your father?”
“He’s in Daegu.”
“Why did he go back early?”
Na-yeong shrugged. “I don’t know. But I guess we’ll see him tomorrow when we get back home.”
“I guess so. You should sleep now, Na-yeong.”
“Eonni…”
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” said Na-yeong, and Soo-Ja could hear the anguish in her voice.
“Go to sleep.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“Go to sleep.”
When they arrived back in Daegu, Soo-Ja immediately headed with Hana to her father’s, so she could tell him what happened. But when she got there, Soo-Ja’s mother greeted her very coldly. She offered her something to eat, but with a strain in her voice. She seemed angry at Soo-Ja, but also appeared to be trying to hide her anger. Soo-Ja wondered what she had done this time. She assumed that her mother was still annoyed at having to host Jae-Hwa for so long. Jae-Hwa had taken her time getting her bearings, and had only recently left their house, to take a job at a factory that manufactured electric fans.
Soo-Ja and her mother sat in awkward silence, waiting for her father in the main room. Hana alone ate the rice cakes on the tray, smiling each time she put one in her mouth.
“I hope your husband’s family enjoys the second dowry,” Soo-Ja’s mother finally said.
Soo-Ja looked at her, confused. “Second dowry?”
“Your father worked very hard to build that factory. He can’t keep selling off parts of it. Things have not been easy since President Park took office,” said her mother sharply.
“Does Father need money?”
Her mother’s face suddenly changed, as if she’d just realized something. “You don’t know? They didn’t tell you?”
Soo-Ja started to worry. “Did something happen to Father? Is he all right?”
Soo-Ja’s mother put her right hand over her mouth and began to laugh. “Oh, this is too, too precious. They didn’t say anything to you, did they?”
“Eomma, please, what happened?”
Soo-Ja’s mother then told her that Father-in-law had come to see her father, and had told him about his debt, and about Min facing possible jail time. Father-in-law had explained that he needed 50 million won.
“He didn’t say straight out that he had come at your request. He just let your father assume,” said Soo-Ja’s mother. “And your father thought you were at home, too worried and ashamed to come yourself, to ask him for the money. The thought of you, feeling so badly, really got to your father. He felt like he had to rescue you. He was happy, I think, to almost ruin himself so he could help you. He went back to an old friend, who had been asking for years if your father would sell him the branch in Jungangtong. You can imagine how happy this man was when your father, out of the blue, told him he’d do it if he could get the money right away. Fifty million won. Into the hands of your father-in-law.”
Soo-Ja looked at her mother, stunned. “Did abeoji—did abeoji give Min’s father all that money?”
“He said whatever belongs to me belongs to Soo-Ja,” said her mother, her eyes growing big. “But what about your brothers? Or your father? He’s getting old, he can’t work like he used to. So I hope your husband enjoys his liberty, because it has come at a dear price.”
Soo-Ja fought the panic rising in her. “Eomma, I swear I didn’t know about this! Father-in-law had no right to come here and pretend to speak for me!”
“Don’t let your father see you like this,” said Mother, with sorrow in her eyes. “H
e was so happy to help you. I think he did it so he could see the look of gratitude on your face. What kind of a father is this, who throws so much away just for one look?”
“This doesn’t change anything,” said her father, when Soo-Ja told him how they’d kept her in the dark. “By helping your husband, I’m helping you. They’re your family now. Your fate and their fate are inextricably linked, till the day you die.”
They were sitting in his room, drinking warm cups of yulmucha tea. Outside, Soo-Ja could hear the cold wind howling. She watched as her father lit some incense, and its delicate smell filled the room.
“He should have told me,” said Soo-Ja, her body filled with anguish. “I would have stopped him.”
“Then I would have given him the money behind your back. Anything to keep your husband out of jail. Now, you know I don’t like Nam. But he’s Min’s father. And being wanted by the police in suspicion of a crime is one thing, actually being arrested for it is something else entirely. This would ruin his future. And your future. And think of Hana’s prospects, too. It’s not Min’s fault that he has a father like that.”
“So you know everything,” said Soo-Ja, her body slumped, as if her ankles and elbows were weighed down with stones.
“I guessed it the second Min’s father opened his mouth that the debt was really his, and not his son’s.”
“He must think he’s so clever,” said Soo-Ja, sighing.
Her father nodded, smiling. “I hate that you have to live with them.”
So he knew all about that, too. Soo-Ja wondered if all of her efforts to look happy were in vain, and people acted as if they believed her just to be polite, when deep down they could clearly hear her heart breaking.
“If I had let you go to Seoul to study diplomacy, you would never have married him,” said Soo-Ja’s father.
“You can’t blame yourself for my mistakes,” said Soo-Ja.
“But isn’t it true? Would you still have married him if I had let you go to Seoul?” he asked. Soo-Ja did not reply, and her father began to nod, taking her silence for an answer.
“Is that why you gave him the money?”
“You were a rebellious daughter. But what were you rebelling against? Me. Why should I enjoy my money when my daughter lives in misery?”
“Please don’t lose sleep over me. It’s not so bad.”
“You’re lying,” he said.
Her father held his cup of tea with both his hands and drank from it. When he put it down, Soo-Ja saw that it was not tea in his cup—it was soju. She’d been so distraught by the news, she hadn’t noticed how out of sorts he looked. How long and how much had he been drinking? she wondered.
“It is the worst feeling in the world, to know that your child is unhappy.”
“It’s not that bad,” said Soo-Ja. “It’s just strange, to think of my life here and my life there. It’s not worse, it’s just different.”
“And how is Hana?”
Soo-Ja then told him all that happened. Her father looked stunned the entire time, and he kept looking out toward the hallway, where Hana was helping her grandmother pick off the ends of soybean sprouts. He stared at her with longing, as if in the telling of the story, Hana was once again lost, and once again recovered.
“You should have called for me!” he cried out. “I would have taken the first train to Pusan. To think of what you went through!”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Worrying is what a father does. Take that away from him and he has nothing to live for. How can I trust you, if you don’t reach out for me in a moment of need?”
“Please, Father, after all I’ve been through, I don’t need your chiding.”
“All I want in this world is to see you happy.”
Oh, and what a terrible burden that is for me, thought Soo-Ja, glancing at his tired-looking eyes.
“I can’t take that money. I can’t take so much from you.”
Her father shook his head, and he looked terribly sad, as if disappointed in her. And then, finally, a burst of emotion came out of him. “Use me up. Use me up to the bone. Take all my strength, my energy, my will. When you let me be your father and let me worry about you, care for you, and even suffer for you, you’re not doing a favor to yourself, you’re doing a favor to me. When you need me, I am alive.” His words felt like a lasso, reaching for her, wrapping itself over her skin. “What you felt, wandering through those streets, looking for Hana, that is the same thing I feel for you. How can you not understand?”
“I do. Father, I do.”
“It runs in your veins, this love. It goes from me to you, and from you to your daughter. You should never worry about causing me pain. It’s the opposite that I’m afraid of. Because that pain is the love, too, and how can you separate the two?”
“Yes, Father,” said Soo-Ja, wiping away her tears.
Soo-Ja found Father-in-law sitting in his room, his eyes closed, leaning back on a chair. Du-Ho stood over him, shaving Father-in-law’s face with paranoid care, as if hair by hair. He dipped the razor—large, more like a knife—occasionally into a bowl of hot water sitting on a tray next to him. He glanced at his father’s chin as if it were a mountain. Du-Ho almost shook with nervousness.
Soo-Ja came in unnoticed, leaving the sliding paper door open so as not to make noise. When Du-Ho saw her, he was about to acknowledge her when she shook her head and put her finger to her lips. He did not speak, confused, but then understood when she signaled to him to hand her the razor. He realized she meant to take his place without Father-in-law knowing.
Du-Ho, who at fourteen was no stranger to harmless pranks, handed her the razor. Soo-Ja then motioned her head toward the door, signaling for him to leave. He smiled and started heading out. For a moment, he stopped and hesitated, as if he could read her mind, as if he knew she might do something terrible. He left, though his look lingered.
Father-in-law opened his eyes and saw Soo-Ja standing where Du-Ho should be. He gave a start, but did not move. He gazed into the mirror Du-Ho had propped up against the wall, and the look he gave her confirmed everything to Soo-Ja. Now she knew the secret that was not a secret.
Soo-Ja held the razor in the air.
“Put that razor down,” he demanded.
“Did you think I wasn’t going to find out?” asked Soo-Ja. Instead of doing as he asked, Soo-Ja lowered her hand and pressed the razor against his neck.
“This is between your father and me,” said Father-in-law, tightening the veins on his neck. He made no pretense of not knowing what she was talking about.
“So I have nothing to do with this?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s funny, since last I knew, I was his daughter,” said Soo-Ja. She began to shave the soap off his neck, keeping the blade tight against his skin. One quick move and she’d hit his jugular.
“In business, we deal with resources. Like your father. It would have been stupid of me not to take advantage of it,” said Father-in-law, sitting very still. His eyes were glued to Soo-Ja in the mirror as she stood behind him.
“You took advantage of my father’s love for me.”
“You’re not mad at me, you’re mad at your father, for being a fool,” said Father-in-law.
“My father is not a fool,” said Soo-Ja, bursting with anger. Her hand began to shake and accidentally nicked his leathery skin. Drops of blood began to coat the blade. When she saw what she had done, Soo-Ja stepped away. “You have no right to talk like that. He saved you! You should be kneeling on the ground, singing his praises!”
“Fool. Yes, fool,” said Father-in-law rapidly, like a machine. He reached for a towel and wiped off the blood. “For giving money away like that. If I were him, I would not have given me the money. But he did, and I, unlike him, am no fool. So I took it. It’s not my fault that he’s a bad businessman.”
Soo-Ja reached for Father-in-law and came face-to-face with him. She held the razor in the air, her face full of desperation.
“He gave you the money to save Min. Your own son. And you show no gratitude?”
“Gratitude doesn’t put food in your stomach. Business savvy does, and I have a lot of it. I saw a situation, and I went in for the kill. It took smarts for me to know your father’s weakness. Do you think I didn’t know what I was doing when I got my son to marry into your family?” Soo-Ja looked at him, shocked. She had always thought they had been against the marriage, considering the way they treated her. Father-in-law shook his head. “You think Min is smart enough to figure out who to marry on his own? Of course I helped him, of course I steered him in the right direction. I knew your father’s money would come in handy someday. And I knew your father’s affection for you would come in even handier.”
Shaking, Soo-Ja looked at the razor in her hand. It would take a quick second or two to sink it into his right wrist. She couldn’t reach for his throat, but his hands were only inches from her.
“But before you hate me too much, think about this,” said Father-in-law, his words slow and calculated. “Don’t you think I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re all provided for, and that we have a roof over our heads? You think it’s easy making a living? Half our country is still in shambles from the war, everywhere you look you see peasants eating grass porridge for dinner and banana peels for dessert. Orphans and paraplegics and sick old people with no homes. You think this house is free? And you think it’s easy, having an eldest son who can’t hold a job anywhere? If a fool’s giving away money, I’m a bigger fool not to take it.”
“That ‘fool’ is my father,” she muttered, in disbelief. She placed the razor on the table, turning away from him, as if he were a hallucination. “From my first day in this house, you have treated me badly. Why is that?”
Father-in-law grunted. “From your first day in this house, you have tried to turn my son against me. Do you think I don’t know that when you go to sleep at night, you whisper lies in his ear?”
Soo-Ja wanted to laugh at his paranoia, but held back. Father-in-law had nothing to worry about. Min loved his parents, almost desperately. But still they were concerned. Soo-Ja thought of their daughter Seon-ae, the missing girl, the sister Min and the others never talked about. She had never met her. All she knew was that she had left home one day and never returned. Did Father-in-law fear, deep down, that his other children would leave, too, one by one?