The Underground Village

by Kang Kyeong-ae

  Gyesoon’s cheeks turned red, and she shut the door. I heard the clink of the lock as I ran towards it.

  This third splashing of cold water threw me into an unspeakable rage. You locked the door. What have I done for you to lock the door! The words filled my mouth. But the fire of my passion, nay, the wildness inside me was making the hairs on my head stand on end.

  ‘Gyesoon!’ I pulled at the door and pounded it.

  I could see Gyesoon’s shadow stand and sit and stand again, agitated by my crazy behaviour.

  Presently, she came to the door and said, ‘Mother-in-law … Wait until Mother-in-law gets back …’ She started to sob.

  I shuddered as I also burst into tears. I collapsed at her door. Gyesoon had been suffering as I had all this time! How pitiful we both were! Gyesoon could not bring herself to open the door as she continued to cry. A woman’s tears … Oh …

  I jumped to my feet. ‘Gyesoon, please forgive me for what I’ve done today … I’m going to a friend’s … I’ll be spending the night there.’

  My voice shuttered. I ran out of the house without saying goodbye.

  The night was dark as ink. I walked for a long time. A lively breeze coming from a vegetable patch seemed to caress my chest. I thought of Gyesoon’s solid figure as I trudged along my way. The reeds growing on either side of the road swayed in the cool wind. I came up to my friend’s house, but I couldn’t quite make myself enter. So I went to the school. I circled the playground a few times before looking up and realizing that I had lost track of myself and I wasn’t at the school anymore, I was before the gate of our house. It was such a surprise I laughed out loud. I walked away, uncertain on my feet, like a bird with a broken wing. Then, I thought I ought to tell her to lock the gate before going to sleep, so I walked back to the house. But once there, I looked up to the heavens and took two deep breaths before determinedly walking back to school. To rid myself of foolish thoughts, I dashed back and forth as the children like to do. Dust rose high and my breathing became so fast that I collapsed where I was. Sweat flowed from my forehead, and I teared up at the incomprehensible, tortured feeling within me. I lay there, exhausted. I imagined that the glowing master bedroom door was shining in the corner of my eye, persistent as an errant eyelash. I was seized by sleep then woken up abruptly, surprised by something. The light was returning. A cold wind seemed to seep into my heart. I thought of the events of the day before and shouted, You crazy bastard! to myself over and over again.

  I leaned against a willow tree before me and thought about my past while at the same time looking down the road of my future. The chattering of the birds above me sounded like my young students reciting their lessons.

  Oh my, you must be sleepy now, ma’am.

  *

  He stood up.

  I stood up as well. ‘But what happened next?’

  He smiled and said, ‘That’s for next time. Good night, ma’am.’ He ran outside.

  I followed him out the gate, but by the time I looked out of it, he was long gone.

  June–July 1935

  Opium

  ‘But I’m registered!’ Bodeuk’s father protests as he leaps to his feet.

  The police officer rushes towards him and grabs him by the lapels. ‘What are you going on about, you woman-killer? Bastards like you will be dealt with by the law!’

  ‘What? What woman? A-a woman?’

  Bodeuk’s father stares at the policeman before attempting to duck when the latter goes to strike his face. Bodeuk’s father grasps his cheek, bewildered, as his eyes dart from the policeman’s lips to the sight of Bodeuk crying as if he has caught fire.

  ‘Mommy! Mommy!’

  The father is convinced his wife will come running any minute, her dark face wearing that deep frown she always has on her wide forehead. He is about to say, Dear, don’t let Bodeuk cry, when he turns around and sees that his wife is not there and only the child stands crying, almost stepping on the unravelled tunic ribbon that dangles from his heaving chest. That black hair his wife had stroked until it lay flat has slowly raised itself up again during the night.

  ‘Move!’ The policeman kicks Bodeuk’s father, who tumbles into the courtyard.

  *

  The dark is so dense it is like water around them. Grass, wet with dew, brushes against their feet. The forest is thick with tangled vegetation, the stars peek out from the heavens, and the moment she looks back at the change in her husband’s footsteps, she is seized with an inexplicable fear.

  Why are we on this unfamiliar mountain? Why was he so intent on Bodeuk falling asleep before we left? If I’d known we would come so far, I would’ve carried him on my back. I must try one more time to talk to him.

  Her throat burns with questions but the more she needs to speak, the less she can form the words. She is well aware that she cannot talk to her husband when he is in this mood. She bites down on the words at the tip of her tongue. Her husband had told her they were only going to take a short walk; in hindsight, his lie is so cruel that she could almost cry.

  She feels pine needles brushing against her shoulders. The stars blinking through the scent of pine sap shine like Bodeuk’s eyes. The sight slows her feet. She had only followed her husband into the dark because she was afraid he would shout at her again. She tucked her child in not knowing the distance they would come. She hates herself for trusting her husband and being so afraid of contradicting him. The soft sound of insects in the wake of her walk reminds her of Bodeuk’s breathing.

  Is he bringing me here to murder me and kill himself, too?

  The thought comes to her from the starlight, fine as a spider’s thread, as she remembers that time two years ago when she saw her husband hanging from the apricot tree by his neck. She shivers.

  Is he going to kill me because I stopped him then, and then kill himself to finish the deed? What will become of Bodeuk?

  They carry on making their way up the mountain road. She wants to sink to her knees but manages to keep walking. All she can think of as the wind encircles her body is the tip of Bodeuk’s tongue on her nipple as he suckles and refuses to let go. She turns around and a spray of pine needles slaps her face.

  ‘I-I must go back to Bodeuk, he must be awake now.’

  Her husband wordlessly pushes her from behind, urging her forward. She wants to scream, to call for help. Once they are over this peak, her knees will surely give way, and her husband will no doubt drag her deeper into the woods …

  She is shaking violently once they reach the summit. The lights below look like torchlights approaching them from the town ahead. She wants to burst into tears.

  ‘This is a rough part. I’ll lead.’

  Her husband goes in front of her. The impulse to scream brushes past her mind along with her fear, and now she begins to tremble at the prospect of the town.

  Maybe he’s taking me to them to exchange me for a sack of rice.

  She recalls how she has begun to fear her husband since he started partaking in opium. Since he lost his job and attempted to kill himself, he has started to associate with an unsavoury crowd and become an opium addict. How he screams and cries at her! The other women of her neighbourhood mocked her about how he was caught trying to steal from a store and beaten.

  Crazy bitches! He would never do such a thing.

  But the bruises on his face made her throat constrict.

  Once they are through the mountain trail, the path to town becomes flat enough to make her want to put Bodeuk on her back and run, if he were with her now instead of at the home they left behind. The sound of the wind overhead makes her think that the cries of her baby are following her footsteps. She cannot help but mumble, ‘Bodeuk will be crying now …’

  When they make it into town, they stop in front of a dry goods store. There’s an occasional pedestrian, but the streets are quiet.

  Her husb
and goes into the store, and a Chinese man who seems to be the owner greets him with a glad expression. ‘You’re here! We waited for you.’

  The man smiles as his bloodshot eyes take a quick glance outside the store. A scar shines dully on his forehead. Her husband stands wearily with his fedora pressed down on his head, his paleness in stark contrast to the plump Chinaman. There was a time when he would refuse to give the Chinese the time of day …

  The beautiful blues and reds of the silks on sale fill the room like a dreamy fog. When her husband turns his head towards her and nods, she jumps out of her skin, thinking he is gesturing to a mob of opium sellers behind her, but she quickly realizes he is telling her to follow him inside. She almost stumbles in, her face turning red. The scent of silk makes her wish for a length of it to make a jacket for Bodeuk. Her eyes remain low, fixed on her husband’s shabby trousers as they make their way out the back of the store, where there is a courtyard with a stale smell. Her husband sweats profusely, whether from exhaustion or the prospect of the opium sellers who are always in pursuit. Scared of the Chinese man noticing his weakness, she almost grabs her husband’s arm several times but relents.

  Her husband quietly discusses something with the Chinese man in front of a red door before he tells her, ‘Stay in this room. I’ll be back soon.’ He pushes her in.

  Thinking the opium sellers are about to barge in, she does not say a word as she enters the dark room but opens the door to catch the sound of her husband’s footsteps disappearing. The back door of the shop has opened and shut.

  I should’ve told him to hurry back.

  She leans against the doorframe, and the memory of Bodeuk’s face resurfaces. The time when he tripped over a threshold and fell to the floor. She feels her own heart fall and smash at her feet. ‘What am I to do? What am I to do?’ She paces the room.

  A long time later, she hears approaching footsteps and runs out to the courtyard. ‘Has Bodeuk woken up?’

  But it is only the Chinese man, whose name is Jin. In fear, she stands up on tip-toes to look over his shoulder and calls out, ‘Husband!’

  There is no one behind Jin, only a dense darkness. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

  Jin suddenly grabs her hand. ‘Byeon, you know, he’s gone home.’

  She whips her hand out of his grasp and presses down on the tears that threaten to burst, trying to get past Jin. He grabs at her skirt.

  ‘Bodeuk’s Father!’ She pounds away at Jin’s chest.

  Jin grins as he lifts her off her feet and pushes her back into the room, locking the door behind him.

  ‘Husband, help me! Husband!’

  She feels as if she is trapped in a palanquin, panicking and helpless. All she can think of is that she must escape this room. She screams for help, but her voice becomes hoarse and she tastes ash in her throat. Jin’s gaze becomes more menacing as he punches her and grabs her and tries to push her down to the floor.

  ‘Help me! Save me!’

  She pounds the walls as she screams, but her voice is too hoarse to be heard from the outside. All it does is make her feel like a fire is burning up from her stomach to her lips. Jin blocks her mouth, a sweaty, smelly hand that prevents her from breathing. She bites down hard and shakes her head. Fast as lightning, he makes a fist and punches her face. There’s a cracking sound, and blood flows down her neck. Jin’s eyes grow as wide as lamp-oil containers, and he grumbles in Chinese before stuffing her mouth with a dirty rag. The pain is like biting down on a mouthful of thorns, and the rag feels like it is creeping down her throat. She coughs and strikes the base of her own neck. Jin takes off his belt and ties up her flailing arms and legs, wipes the sweat from his forehead, and grins again. His bloodshot eyes flash with an animal energy, and his panting is mixed with the sour smell of dog fur. He is drooling yellow saliva, and his blue trousers are halfway down, revealing his repulsive belly. She closes her eyes because she does not want to see, and she imagines her husband’s prominent nose and his limping walk as he comes back from having had opium somewhere.

  ‘Husband! Husband!’ she screams at the door, but her words only turn into moans.

  Jin does not leave her alone the next day. She has a fever, and Jin lays wet towels on her burning forehead. Now that her body has been defiled, she tries to calm herself and concentrate on gathering her strength, but the fever and pain in her broken teeth have only worsened. From time to time, she thinks she could even make a life of it, if only she had Bodeuk with her. That dawn, she had begun to think that her husband had sold her to this man. But the thought had been fleeting, and her head is now filled with worry about whether her husband had made it home the other night or is lying dead somewhere instead. Or if he has gone home, how distressed he will be at having to take care of Bodeuk.

  She raises her head at the sound of a towel being squeezed over a basin.

  That sounds like Bodeuk peeing!

  She closes her eyes to hold back her brimming tears.

  Jin smiles. ‘Think carefully. I can give you a gold ring, I can give you silk clothes.’

  She tosses aside the towel and turns over. Her breasts fall to the side as she does so, and her hands grip them, shaking. She can almost feel Bodeuk’s breast-milk breath on her cheek, making it blush, and the sound of his calling for her as he runs around the village, his little feet and knees cut and bleeding from the reeds that grow around their home. She sees this as clearly as if it were happening before her.

  She suddenly asks, ‘Did Bodeuk’s father go home last night?’

  Jin is glad that she is talking. ‘He went. With the money.’

  She bursts into tears at the mention of money.

  Bodeuk’s mother lives through that day pinning her hopes on that night. She tries to distract Jin, attempting to make him let his guard down. Jin is happy, going back and forth from his store to the room, bringing her food, and medicine for her teeth. But he never leaves her alone for more than ten minutes, always returning to keep watch over her. She abhors the very whites of his eyes. Why had he made such a large fire under the house? The room is as hot as a boiling pot. His yellow hands peel fruit, and sweat flows like grease down his forehead. He makes an effort to ingratiate himself. He offers her a slice of fruit so many times that she decides to accept, just to make him more complacent. But the second she bites the fruit, her teeth hurt and it feels as if she is biting into Bodeuk’s flesh.

  What can my baby be eating now?

  She spits out the fruit. Blood drips from her mouth.

  Some hours after midnight, she carefully lifts her head. Thankfully, Jin is asleep. She holds her breath and quietly raises herself, trying not to disturb Jin. Her nervousness swirls around the room. The sound of every breath, every insect, the ticking of the clock, the light coming from the door, even the very smell of fruit makes her jump. She slips out from under the blanket, and the smell of sweat that puffs up makes her think of diapers. Her heart pounds with the thought of running to Bodeuk and taking him in her arms. She gathers her courage, picks up her coat, and slowly walks to the back door. When she opens it and comes outside, her legs and arms shake loud enough to be heard, and her heart is almost beating outside of her chest.

  She can almost hear Jin shout, ‘Where do you think you’re going!’ She quickly goes towards the outhouse and looks about. She cannot leave through the store, so the only way out is over the fence. There’s barbed wire around the top of the fence, but climbing over the outhouse is the easiest way. She keeps her ears open as she gets to the top of the outhouse and gives the room and store another look.

  If I hesitate and Jin wakes up again …

  She throws her coat over the wall and perches on the top. She is terrified that someone will grab her ankle at any moment and is driven mad by her heart urging her to hurry. She dips a little and the barbed wire scratches her face. She grabs the wire to steady herself. She th
inks that if she fails now, she’ll never see her husband again, never see her baby. The wire makes a loud creaking sound. The thought that Jin might have heard it spikes her panic. She slips, and in the next moment, she finds herself hanging upside down on the wall on the other side, the barbed wire wrapped around her ankle and tangled in her underwear. She pulls at her foot and falls to the ground. Something hits her head and she thinks it is Jin, but just as she strikes at it with her hand, she finds that it is a rock fallen from the wall. She jumps up and runs as fast as she can.

  The joy that wracks her body! She pierces through the darkness and runs as if she has been turned into a storm, flying out of the town and up the mountain path. The mountain wind wraps around her as she imagines she can hear her baby crying his adorable, pitiful cry … She almost stumbles at the thought of it. The fire burning on the soles of her feet makes her glide across the mountain path. She thinks of her husband lying next to Bodeuk, unconscious from opium without a doubt, and all she wants to do is to get there and let her tears spill. She feels no resentment, only gladness and sadness taking turns in her heart. Her husband will surely ask for forgiveness, maybe even give up opium. The scene in her mind moves her so much that she stumbles and falls. ‘Husband!’ she shouts as she gets up again to run. Whenever she stops to catch her breath, she falls down and feels faint. Sweat or something else keeps pouring from her head, bothering her eyes and seeping into her collar. It is about to rain but she cannot afford to pay attention to that; she has to keep looking back to see if Jin is following her. She thinks she hears the barbed wire creaking. She thinks she is still holding on to the wire as she grasps the air and falls again.

  I must make it, yes, I must make it and raise Bodeuk!

  She cries as she gets up again. The disappearing lights of the town below are like lights strung up along steel wire. Let them follow her. The thought that she feels desperate enough to kill anyone who gets in her way flashes in her head like the lights that she is leaving behind.