The Underground Village

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The Underground Village Page 15

by Kang Kyeong-ae


  But Kim was decidedly not in the mood. ‘It’s good just to see you like this.’

  ‘Please.’ Champion got up and grabbed Kim’s hand. Kim had no choice but to be dragged out.

  They reached the pub. Champion ordered wine and side dishes and sat across from Kim. It had been months since they had seen each other. Champion was glad to see him but at the same time did not know what he should say. He felt as if an invisible metal sheet had come between them, preventing him from saying everything that was weighing down his heart.

  Kim did not know why, but he felt more and more anxious as they sat there.

  ‘Big Brother! Have a bowl.’

  ‘All right.’

  Champion was sad that Kim’s voice was the same as before, but his manner was hesitant, a fact that disappointed the younger man. He briefly remembered that an officer had visited his house that day, and the thought made his heart ache all the more.

  He kept refilling his own bowl. ‘Big Brother. Don’t you feel sorry for my little Bawee?’ he said, thinking of how he was headed for jail.

  ‘Well, I suppose.’ Kim could think of nothing more to say. Champion was acting too strange. He had to get out of there quickly, and to do so he had to avoid getting drunk. Kim spilt half his bowl on his knee before he brought it to his lips.

  ‘Big Brother, take one more!’ Champion was anguished at the sight of Kim’s reluctance.

  ‘See, well, I have to go. I belong to my master you know, I can’t stay out for very long.’

  ‘All right.’

  Kim took the chance to bolt out of the pub. Champion followed him, which terrified Kim. Sweat flowed from his forehead.

  A light rain began falling. Kim finally reached his house and leapt inside as if hiding from a demon.

  ‘Big Brother! Big Brother!’ Champion called through the crack in the door. He wanted to hear Kim’s voice one more time before he was parted from his blood brother forever. But no one answered, and he turned away.

  He plodded back to his house. He pulled at the door, but it was locked.

  His senses were as sharp as the edge of a knife. After standing still for a time, he sat down on one of the protruding foundation stones of his house.

  The raindrops grew larger. He felt loneliness with every fibre of his body. He had no wife, no child, and no friends. And what should appear next in his mind but the slothful face of that shipowner! He was responsible for all the hardships and loneliness in his life. Champion jumped up and down in the air like an angry tiger. Then, as if possessed, he ran towards the shipowner’s house.

  *

  Bawee stopped thinking about the past and gathered his wits. He carefully looked around. The dew-drenched silo shone in the moonlight, and he could still hear the sound of Jeonjung’s unending laughter.

  He heard the chirping of insects at his feet. From somewhere came the rustling sound of leaves in the wind.

  What had his father’s rebellion resulted in? Only meaningless sacrifice. On top of that, Bawee was left with nothing but the curses of others for the rest of his life. The son of a bandit! The son of a murderer!

  He shook these thoughts from his head. He hugged himself and hunched over, thinking of the moment he found himself jiggling the lock of the silo, and how the thought of the committee was the only thing that had prevented him from breaking it. The committee had saved him just in the nick of time, he thought, feeling a great warmth in his heart.

  He recalled the words Hongcheol spoke often. ‘Whatever we do, we must be prudent. Don’t let yourself be overtaken by personal emotion …’

  Hongcheol had said this over and over again, shaking Bawee’s hand for emphasis. The warmth of Hongcheol’s hand that had spread to his! Bawee understood, for the first time, the true power of that warmth.

  Bawee slowly moved away thinking that he was not alone. He had pledged himself to the committee. He must follow its precepts, and not be moved so easily!

  The sound of the faraway waves grew louder with every step he took.

  March 1933

  Mother and Son

  This morning, despite the snow falling thick and fast, Seungho’s mother bound her son to her body and set out from her father’s house. As she passed the Chinese man’s store, she thought of how she had nowhere to go. She had quit her maid position a few days before, and was now leaving her father’s after an argument with her stepmother. She had not expected much from her stepmother, but her father! She had thought he would let them stay longer, maybe not for a year but for a few months, or at least until Seungho shook the hundred-day cough. She was no better than a stranger to her father now, she thought, tearfully.

  Where could she go?

  She stood on the sidewalk as pedestrians passed her without giving her a second glance. She stared at the sky and thought that her only option now was to bow her head and beg her mortal enemy, her brother-in-law, to take her in.

  The mere thought of it made her feel like a cow headed for slaughter. She shuddered with disgust and her feet refused to move forward. But even if her husband had died, did she not still have Seungho? And did the little boy not have a better chance of being accepted by his paternal family than by her father? Surely a nephew who shared the family name was just like a son.

  All right then, let’s go! She managed to force her feet forward. Her brother-in-law had even opened a pharmacy recently. Getting accepted by the family would be the difficult part, but once they were in, she would be able to treat Seungho’s cough. She gathered her courage and kept telling herself to endure whatever humiliation would be handed out to her, no matter what. But she kept slowing at the thought of the mean, beady eyes of her brother-in-law and his wife’s piercing, fishhook stare.

  Her brother-in-law had revered her scholar husband up until the Manchurian Incident, supporting their family with a stipend. But once the Japanese invaded China and the city of Longjing was turned upside down, her brother-in-law’s affection for his younger brother changed into hate and constant humiliation, an attitude he did not spare towards her and her son. He had cut off his financial support, which was why she had to become a maid at someone else’s house. More than anything else, her brother-in-law had the temerity to seem glad when her husband died overseas a year ago, prompting her to get into a screaming fight with him where she vowed never to see him again.

  And yet, here she was, about to crawl back into his house, knowing full well that his family would not welcome her. There was, however, nothing else to be done.

  Seungho, who had been quiet, raised his head and released another volley of heart-breaking coughs, so violent that he struggled to catch his breath. She moved him from her back to her front, rubbed her cheek against his, and shivered.

  ‘Seungho! My baby!’

  She put her lips against his and sucked, in the hope of sucking the sickness out of him and into herself. Sometimes after this, his coughing would cease for a while and she would think it had worked, but then it would start up again.

  She continued on her way when his coughs had subsided somewhat. Soon, she turned a corner and the walls of her brother-in-law’s house were in sight. She stopped. What was she going to do when her brother-in-law asked her what she was doing there? Tell him she had come to live in his house? Then what? Would he just stand there and let her do whatever she wanted? No, she would be made to tell him that she had quit her position. But what if they still refused her?

  She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a chasm. She wanted to turn back. Better never to have gone there if she was only going to be humiliated. But where else would she go? She could impose on a friend for a night, perhaps, but then what? She thought of when she was thrown out of her employer’s house. That could happen at any time, even within a single night, at any house that was not family. No one was going to welcome a sick baby. At least Seungho was a blood relation to her brother-in-law;
it was worth a try. They would not really turn her away, would they?

  She stepped forward. Her feet were heavy. She kept hesitating. What if Seungho were to cough when she was sitting with her brother-in-law? What if all was going well and suddenly her little boy coughed and her brother-in-law forbade her from bringing disease into the house? She decided to wait until her son’s coughs had subsided. She stood until Seungho’s coughing went away completely. She knew that the cold air was bad for him, but she could not help feeling nervous about their chances.

  ‘Seungho,’ she begged, patting the little boy’s back, ‘when we’re with your uncle, you must hold in your cough. You simply must!’

  Now she stood before her brother-in-law’s door. The door had been newly painted since she had last been here. Her heart pounded. She hesitated.

  Just then, the gate opened and out walked her brother-in-law’s schoolteacher daughter, Jilnyuh. She seemed taken aback to find Seungho’s mother standing outside.

  ‘Auntie! It’s been so long!’ Her face was white as snow, framed by the feathery collar of her coat.

  Seungho’s mother was already bowing her head. ‘How have you been …?’

  ‘Please come in. Is Seungho sleeping?’ She leaned forward to look for a moment and stepped back again. ‘Auntie, I have to go out now, but you’re not allowed to leave until I come back!’

  Jilnyuh’s voice was bright and friendly. Should she beg Jilnyuh to intervene for her? But before she could think about it, Jilnyuh smiled at her and briskly walked away.

  Seungho’s mother had no choice but to enter the gate. Her footsteps must have alerted Jilnyuh’s mother, whose fishhook stare appeared behind one of the windows. Her face was flushed, her demeanour hostile. She slid open the window and sneered.

  ‘Well, look who’s here! I never thought I’d see the day.’

  Wordlessly, Seungho’s mother went and sat down before her in the main room. The room smelled of medicine and humid warmth covered her cheeks like a blanket. Afraid Seungho would start coughing, she covered him up to his head with the wrap. Her heart felt like it had shrunk to the size of a bean.

  Her brother-in-law’s wife began packing tobacco into her long bamboo pipe. ‘So, you were working? You must’ve made a lot of money by now … And do you still think you were in the right that time?’

  ‘I was at fault.’

  Jilnyuh’s mother seemed pleased enough with her apology. ‘Good. Having a bad temper is one thing, but once you’ve calmed down, you must be able to apologize. And it will not do to stay away from your elders for over a year.’

  Seungho’s mother was so relieved, she could barely hold down her tears. What a selfish person she had been!

  She could hear her brother-in-law’s deep voice in the other room, as well as someone else speaking Chinese. Perhaps they were guests of the pharmacy. She decided to tell Jilnyuh’s mother everything once it was clear she was forgiven. She tried to say something else but her throat was choked with tears. Just then, Seungho raised his head and coughed.

  Seungho’s mother could not hide her dismay.

  Jilnyuh’s mother narrowed her eyes. ‘Does your son have the hundred-day cough?’ She was beginning to guess the reason why Seungho’s mother had come to them. ‘There’s no medicine for that. When did he get sick?’

  Seungho’s mother grew pale at the news that there was no medicine. That meant Seungho might die! Her mind went dark.

  ‘You should’ve taken care of your child better. Did someone in the house you work for have it?’

  ‘N-no.’

  ‘Then wouldn’t they want you to leave?’

  ‘I have already left!’

  Jilnyuh’s mother had thought she was here for medicine, but now she realized she wanted to move in. This woman was trying to pull a fast one on her! Her calm pity flared into anger.

  ‘Hah! You never so much as visited when things were well, but you come crawling now that your baby is dying? This is not our business. You marched out of here on your own two feet. You couldn’t stay away for even a year! We’re not going to tolerate this. Go back to your father’s house or find a new husband. You cut off all ties with us back then!’

  She was pounding her bamboo pipe on the ashtray for emphasis. Seungho’s mother felt like the ashtray was her own face. She kept her mouth shut until the tirade was over and tried to beg her way in one more time.

  ‘But there is nowhere else I can go! Please forgive me.’

  ‘Huh? Forgive you? How much does forgiveness cost these days? Because we really don’t know.’

  The door to the other room slid open, and the brother-in-law’s face popped in. He shouted, ‘What’s all this noise!’

  ‘Well, your sister-in-law chose to ignore us all this time and happened to waltz in here when her child got sick.’

  ‘Enough! Be quiet, both of you!’ He slammed the door shut.

  Her brother-in-law had been her last thread of hope. She quickly stood up.

  ‘Have a good life.’

  She ran out of the house.

  *

  She wandered the streets. The snow kept falling, heavy and silent. She could not help resenting her late husband, but then berated herself. What a stupid woman she was, resenting a man who rarely had a full night’s sleep or a proper meal, who had been forced to live in hiding until he was caught and killed by the enemy.

  What had her husband said to her before he went into the mountains? No matter how hard we try to live, they will never let us live in peace. She did not understand him at the time, but now she saw he could have been right. No … he was right.

  We have to teach Seungho that this is life …

  Her husband’s last words before he left. What was she to do without her husband? When he was alive and by her side, she had hope at least, but what was left to her now? Nothing, only darkness.

  She came to a halt. Her thoughts kept making her think of her husband’s eyes, her husband’s lips. It made her want to cry. She silently gazed at the falling snow and wondered if it would make good medicine for Seungho. She opened her mouth wide and caught a few flakes. Then she remembered the smell of medicine in her brother-in-law’s house. The snowflakes on her tongue suddenly felt like blades. She remembered what her brother-in-law’s wife had said, which made her widen her eyes in panic. Then she thought Seungho’s cough would get worse with this wind blowing. She took off the towel covering her hair and covered his head with it.

  She began to walk again. Where should she go? Anywhere, as long as it was out of Longjing. Everyone was so cruel here! Once they got out of Longjing, they would find people like themselves, people enduring the same struggle. They would not be mistreated then.

  This made her think of the mountain that her husband had mentioned when he left her.

  ‘But where are you going?’ she had asked, full of sorrow.

  Her husband had sat for a moment in silence before answering, ‘I’m going to the mountain.’

  ‘Which mountain?’

  ‘Just know that it’s a mountain …’

  Since then, she would gaze at any mountain in the distance. Her heart would skip whenever she heard anyone mention anything about mountains.

  The mountains! He had already predicted that whatever mountain he ended up on, the enemy was sure to find him in the end and kill him. She looked up. She could barely see the mountains through the snow, but they were there, dream-like … they seemed to call to both mother and son.

  ‘Let’s go, Seungho! Let’s follow your father there!’

  She was fired up now. She imagined she would find her dead husband’s skull there, and when they died on the mountain, they would hear the last words he whispered before he died. A new vigour flowed through her. Snowflakes fell against her burning cheek.

  After a long while, she looked around her; all she could see was snow-cov
ered plains, stretching out into the distance. The only other thing was the mountain range that had given her such hope. But strangely, the more she walked, the further the mountains seemed. Her face hurt from the wind and snow smashing against it. The fervour that had burned in her had disappeared without a trace, and she wondered if she were chasing a ghost. She looked back with some regret. Longjing was already two or three li away.

  She decided to go back, but she felt she would freeze before she got there. She turned around anyway. She would go as far as she could. If there were a house on the way, she would beg for a night’s shelter, but in any case, she must try. She squinted into the distance to see if she could discern a house. The realization that it was getting darker made her even more anxious. She searched and searched for any sign of shelter. Seungho kept coughing. She could no longer pay attention to his coughs as she concentrated wholly on seeing through the falling snow.

  This was not a completely unfamiliar road and she knew there was a village along it somewhere, but oddly enough, the village never appeared, no matter how long she walked. All she could see were fields buried in snow. She wandered for a while longer and thought she must have gone down the wrong path somewhere, but now she could not even tell where she had come from. The only thing she could feel and see was the fearsome wind that whipped at her head and the snow that shone so bright it made her dizzy. She stood still again. She tried to raise her arm to rub her eyes, but her arm felt like a block of wood and refused to move. This jolted her; was she dying? She pounded her feet against the ground and rubbed her hands together. She called for Seungho. She could not stand here like this, she needed to keep going forward. She saw something that looked like shelter in the distance. She ran to it. But it was not a house, it was only a few snow-covered pillars. This was strange to her. By the location, it looked like it had once been a rest stop for carriages. Now it was only a few pillars in the snow. She remembered hearing about the farming houses being burned down during the suppression, and the memory depressed her. What was she to do? She looked for the high earthen walls of the Chinese. She could not see any. She walked about a little, straining into the snow. Nothing, nothing.

 

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