That morning, the mother shook Bongyeom awake. Bongyeom immediately sat up.
‘Go wash these. You only have to rinse them.’ The woman handed over her bloodied underwear and rags to her daughter. She felt ashamed before Bongyeom and detected a feeling of disgust in her gaze.
Bongyeom’s heart was still trembling, everything seemed like a dream, and her mind was full of questions and fears that felt like cobwebs in the dark. She quickly left the shed.
She must be so cold, thought the mother as she watched her leave, and she felt filthy sitting in the gloom.
Bongyeom’s footsteps faded away, and the woman looked down at the baby’s face. Her love grew the more she looked, and she could not bear to not put her nose against the baby’s. She heard sounds coming from the house. Were they making breakfast? Surely, they would spare them some. She thought of seaweed stew again, and a bowl of it seemed to waver before her like a mirage. She grew hungrier by the minute. She had to eat; she could not live on determination alone. The thought made her fearful. She looked around the shed again. It was still dark in there, but she spotted something in the corner. A pile of leeks! The woman of the house had stacked them in the shed to take to the market. She would feel more like herself once she had some. She quickly went over and picked out a leek. She brought it several times to her mouth but put it down, in fear that the owners would come bursting in. Finally, she took a bite of the green stalk. She felt an electric shock go through her teeth. She grimaced and kept her mouth open for a long time, in pain.
If she wanted to live, she should at least swallow the saliva coming down her chin. She put the leek into her mouth and did not chew, instead poking around with the tip of her tongue as she moved bits of it down her throat. How stiff the stalks were, and her throat was in such pain she was about to cry. Could one survive on leeks? She grimaced again, staring out at the blue sky through the crack in the shed door.
The door flew open.
‘Mother! I met Yong-ae’s mother at the washing place on the river, she’s coming!’
Yong-ae’s mother immediately followed Bongyeom into the shed. Bongyeom’s mother got up, clasped the other woman’s hands and started to cry. The two families had lived in the same village and were close. Yong-ae’s mother had been glad at first to see Bongyeom, but now that she saw how pitifully Bongyeom’s family had fallen, she wished she had not come. She could not think of anything to say to comfort them.
‘Oh my, what happened to you!’ Yong-ae’s mother said after a long pause.
Bongyeom’s mother reined in her sobs and replied, ‘It’s only my terrible fate. My fate to live instead of die … But why are you in town?’
‘We moved here last year. The village is abandoned. The fighting was too much, so everyone left in the night. No one could make a living growing crops. But things are no easier here.’
Bongyeom’s mother was glad to see her and realized in a flash that she must not lose this opportunity. She decided to tell her everything that happened and beg for help.
‘I gave birth to a baby last night. This thing … what am I going to do? Please save my life. Let us stay with you for a few days. I am sorry to ask. How terrible for you to have met a woman like me …’
She collapsed into tears again. Meeting Yong-ae’s mother made her think of both her husband and Bongshik at the same time. Others had their husbands and children and lived normal lives, why did she end up with such a terrible fate?
Yong-ae’s mother hesitated for a long time, but in the end, she sighed. ‘All right. Stay with us.’
She was so reluctant the words had to be forced out of her mouth. Standing behind her, Bongyeom felt she had been saved and let out a sigh of relief.
‘Thank you! How can we ever repay this kindness …?’
The woman tied the baby to Bongyeom’s back. Yong-ae’s mother led the way, anxious about what her husband would say. Are we going to have to take them in forever? Her footsteps were heavy with worry.
Four days passed without incident at Yong-ae’s house. Yong-ae’s mother worked as a laundress and would leave before sunrise for the washing place, and her husband likewise was out all day on account of his working to build the new railway. Their hard-up lives made Bongyeom’s mother ashamed of having to impose on them. She tried to spend as little time recovering as possible.
That day, she met Yong-ae’s mother when she came back from the washing place.
‘I can take in laundry, too. Find me some work.’
Yong-ae’s mother’s eyes grew wide. ‘You should be lying down! Heavens … don’t worry about us.’
Then she seemed to remember something and turned to Bongyeom’s mother again, blinking. They were in the kitchen and could hear Bongyeom playing with the baby in the other room.
‘You know, one of the houses I do laundry for, they’re looking for a wet nurse … They said it’s all right if the nurse has a child, as long as she can give enough breast milk. The money will be less because of it, but … What do you think?’
Bongyeom’s mother’s ears perked up. ‘Really? It’s all right if I bring my child?’
Yong-ae’s mother hesitated. ‘Well … if they give you about twelve or thirteen won a month, you can get a room for Bongyeom and the baby. You’d only be able to visit them occasionally to feed the baby, and maybe use some cow’s milk, too. You’ll be paid less if they learn your own baby is still so young. So lie to them and tell them your child is past feeding. Then you ought to have enough money.’
Bongyeom’s mother was overjoyed at the thought of possible work. ‘Then please let them know about me.’
She was determined to make money and pay back Yong-ae’s mother’s kindness, but at the same time, she looked at her own baby and wondered if she could really leave it to feed another.
Bongyeom’s mother regained her strength after a few days. She was hired as a wet nurse and had to live away from Bongyeom and the baby, who were put into a small room. Bongyeom took care of the baby from then on. The baby cried every night as if set on fire and refused to sleep. Bongyeom would carry the baby on her back and pace around the room, pinching herself to keep from falling asleep. Sometimes, she would cry right along with the baby, and look out into the darkness for her mother.
A year passed this way, and the baby cried less but still had not learned to use the toilet. The baby was given half of Bongyeom’s name and was called Bonghee. Bongyeom did her best to care for the child, but she would hit the baby if Bonghee scattered her toys or cried too much when Bongyeom’s friends had come over. Bongyeom hit the baby especially hard when Bonghee went to the bathroom on the floor. This was not because she hated the baby, but because she was too tired and miserable to do anything else. Bonghee did not drink cow’s milk anymore, and only occasionally drank from her mother’s breast. She could just about crawl. Sometimes, she stood on her legs and took a few steps. She was oddly bright. Sometimes she would go to the bathroom on the floor and cry loudly before her sister could even hit her. Other times, when Bongyeom had friends over, she would pretend to sleep so that Bongyeom would not beat her for making a sound, and she would lie sweating with her eyes closed. She did not gain much in flesh and bone, but did in such tricks and the size of her head, which was as big as a small gourd and hard as a rock. The hair on top of her big head was as light-coloured as the day she was born. The only thing alive about her was this head, and sometimes it seemed that it was too big for the rest of her body and that she could die early from being crushed by the weight of it.
Bonghee recognized her mother. She cried every time she left. Whenever this happened, the three would hold each other and cry for a long time before parting.
In summer, Bongyeom caught a fever and spent her days lying in bed, unable to even eat. Her body was so hot she could hardly tell where she was sick. Bonghee kept crying beside her. Wishing her mother would come, Bongyeom gave Bonghee her
leftover rice. The baby stopped crying and began to eat. Bongyeom closed her eyes and brought her arm to her forehead. She thought she heard footsteps and quickly opened her eyes, but it was only Bonghee dragging the rice bowl.
Bongyeom was furious. ‘You stupid girl! Why can’t you eat in one place!’
Bonghee’s mouth twitched with the effort it took to hold back her cries. She turned to the door. Bongyeom thought Bonghee was also waiting for their mother, and she wanted to shout out, ‘Mother!’ with all her heart. She gritted her teeth and fought back tears as she looked back at Bonghee.
‘You want to see Mother, too, right? Shall we go see her?’
She had spoken without thinking. Bonghee stared at her, pushed the bowl aside and ran to hug her. She should not have spoken so soon! Bongyeom hugged her sister tight. She realized that two hot trails of tears were coming down her face.
‘Why won’t Mother come! It’s time for her to come. Isn’t it, Bonghee?’
Bonghee, not really understanding her, answered, ‘Yes …’
‘Come on, Bonghee. Be a good girl. Finish your supper.’
Bongyeom gave Bonghee’s head a pat and put her down. Bonghee picked up her spoon again and began to eat. Bongyeom stared at the ceiling. Her mother used to come often and sweep the room, but now there were cobwebs on the rafters. How could she not come, even when enough time had passed for new cobwebs? She could barely remember when she had last come to see them. Bongyeom turned on her side and wondered if her mother would come out of that house after breakfast with her charge, the baby boy Myoungsu, on her back … Surely she must be past the Chinaman’s store by now. She could be right outside the door. Bongyeom stared at the door again, but there was no sound of footsteps, only the sound of Bonghee’s spoon scraping the bowl.
Bongyeom sprang up and flung open the door. Bonghee, not understanding what was going on, stared at her sister for a while and crawled towards her.
Bongyeom felt out of breath and collapsed on to the floor.
The sound she had heard was of the woman next door flinging her white laundry on to the fence to dry in the sun. The tips of the neighbour’s fingers that Bongyeom could see over the fence reminded her of her mother’s kind hands, and it made her think her mother, with her breast-milk stink, was standing on the other side. Sitting in that stink made her feel more at peace than anything else in the world.
She yearned to throw herself at her mother and be held. She was thirsty, so she drank the water that she had mixed with Bonghee’s rice, but she was then somehow thirstier than ever. She fell into an uneasy sleep.
Bongyeom awoke with a start.
Bonghee was gone. Had her mother come and taken her out somewhere?
She quickly got up and ran outside. But her mother and Bonghee were nowhere to be seen. The sun was so hot it looked as if it would bake the lawn red. Where was Bonghee? And her mother? She ran outside the fenced area and bumped into the woman next door.
‘Have you seen my mother?’
‘I haven’t seen her … Are you ill? Hey!’
Bongyeom ran off, only caring about what had happened to her mother. She ran around until her eyes were bloodshot red, and she returned to the room. Then, she heard a sound from the backyard. She jumped up and ran to it.
There in the corner, where the water used to wash the rice was stored in a bucket, Bonghee had dropped her large head and was sucking at the surface as if it were a breast. In the sunlight, her hair was as red as flame.
The Heart of a Mother
Bongyeom died four days later. Her mother had to quit her position and left Myoungsu’s house. Bonghee also became sick and died not long after. The landlord, furious that she had brought disease into his house, ordered her to move out. The woman was so angry that she fought loudly with the landlord’s wife. She declared they would have to drag her out of that room and spent her days lying in it doing nothing. There was a time when she was too shy to even give excuses to the landlord when her rent was late, but now she surprised herself at her new daring.
She had fought with the landlord’s wife long and hard the day before. If the wife had carried the argument on any longer, Bongyeom’s mother had been ready to stab her. Thankfully, as if detecting a line was about to be crossed, the landlord’s wife had stood down.
‘Huh! How dare she try to make me leave. I’m not going anywhere.’ The woman glared at the door as she said this to herself. It was unsatisfying that the landlord’s wife had retreated so soon. She felt enough fury to till a hundred fields.
Once her anger subsided, she again thought of Bongyeom and Bonghee, and of little Myoungsu. The more she thought about them, the more she thought she had killed her own children. If only she had been with them, they would not have become sick, and even if they had, they would have survived. She beat her chest.
‘I killed my own children while looking after someone else’s … You stupid girls, how could you leave without your mother. Take me with you.’
She cried so loudly that soon her throat closed up and she could not make a sound. Her throat felt torn. She coughed, stared out the door, and thought about the events of the past few days.
It had been raining hard. The woman, having seen Bongyeom so sick, had scarcely been able to sleep. She sneaked out of her employer’s house in the middle of the night. When she first moved in there, she had gone to sleep in her clothes and crept out to feed Bonghee as soon as everyone in the house had fallen asleep. But once Myoungsu’s mother realized what was happening, she watched the woman like a hawk. The woman had dared not sleep in her clothes again and ended up running back and forth in her bedclothes. That night, knowing that Myoungsu’s mother would never let her go having already allowed her to visit her daughters during the day, the woman had crept out as soon as the family was asleep and ran home. It was so dark she could barely see in front of her, and the rain had beat down on her bare shoulders. The thunder and lightning made her hair stand on end with booms, crashes, and flashes of light that seemed to split the very sky in two.
None of it had mattered. All she cared about was her daughters, and the storm only seemed to be an expression of her own fears.
When she reached the room, the sight of a white lump by the door had surprised her. Her daughter, Bongyeom! She hurriedly embraced her.
‘You stupid child! Why are you lying out here, you’ll kill yourself!’
Bongyeom’s wet body had been as hot as fire. She had trembled so fiercely that it frightened the woman. What use was her wet nurse position now? She must quit. Once she laid the girl down in the room, her head had filled again with troubles. Myoungsu must be crying so loud as to raise the roof, his parents awake and grimacing, determined to ask her to leave, nay, already having thrown out her things. The thoughts had flitted through her mind as she stroked her sick daughter.
She had stood up. Bonghee, whom she thought was asleep, had ran to her and grabbed her breast. ‘Mommy!’ she had cried. Bongyeom did not have the strength to ask her mother to stay. She had cried instead, gripping the edge of the woman’s skirt. ‘Just a little longer …’
That trembling voice … the woman felt she could still hear it. She would remember it forever.
She stood up. She paced the room, trying to clear her thoughts, but the memories leapt at her like sparks. She remembered Myoungsu’s face. That beautiful, smiling baby …
‘I wonder if he’s crying right now.’
The words had slipped out of her before she knew it. Then she forced herself to say what she did not really feel.
‘It’s because of that bastard child that Bongyeom and Bonghee are dead! Be off with you!’
But Myoungsu’s face persisted in her memory. She could just about touch his hair … She bit her hand. The pain from the bite hurt as much as her longing for the child. She restrained her own steps from going towards the house again by forcing herself to recall how
Myoungsu’s mother had turned her away at the door. ‘Huh! You foolish woman, you killed your own children, but you want to take care of mine? Why are you even alive, still? If you die now, you won’t suffer so much!’
It reminded her of the time she had wanted to kill herself after her husband was murdered. This terrible misfortune was all because she had not followed through on that urge. And the communists who had killed her husband, they were the worst of them all. Fang Tong would never have done what he did to her if her husband was still alive. Yes, this was all because of the communists! She thought of Bongshik, who supposedly had been executed for being a communist. Fang Tong’s face sprang up in her memory.
‘You bastard, my son is no communist … If you wanted to kick us out, you should have just kicked us out! Dirty bastard … But is my son alive or dead?’
Saying her son’s name out loud gave her a sliver of hope. She was going to go into town to look for Bongshik, but first, she thought she should go to see Myoungsu.
‘Oh, Myoungsu!’ she called out and squeezed her nipple. He must be calling for her at this very moment … She ran out of the room. But then, the face of Myoungsu’s mother suddenly loomed large in her mind, and she stood up tall.
‘You bitch! How dare you stop me from seeing Myoungsu; you only gave birth to him, but it was me who raised him! Of course that baby loves me more. Myoungsu is mine.’
The Underground Village Page 5