Cursed Bunny

by Bora Chung

  “Of course, that’s fine.”

  “I can’t give you an answer right now, but maybe if we saw each other a bit more and got to know each other better, I’d be able to decide then. Would that be all right?”

  “Very much so.”

  The man insisted on driving her home despite her repeated refusals.

  “I’m actually a driver by trade. You can trust me,” He said this with a smile.

  As she watched him drive off into the night after dropping her off by her house, she thought of how they had talked all afternoon and the only thing she really knew about him was the fact that he was a driver.

  She went on a string of seon dates with other men after that, but nothing really took. There were many times where she would run to the ladies’ room and come back to find the man had disappeared. Some of the men became tense and took out their cigarettes at the mention of her being pregnant and others made sure she was aware of their distaste for her situation. She kept thinking that the first man had been the best, but his irregular work hours made it difficult to keep in constant contact with him.

  Slowly but surely, her stomach grew. The pregnancy became obvious at five months. Her morning sickness seemed to get worse for a time but eventually began to abate. Her breasts grew bigger and her weight climbed to the point where her back and feet hurt. She became out of breath easily and her ankles frequently swelled up. She often felt a knot in her chest, sweated like a fiend, and was constantly in and out of the bathroom. The hospital assured her that these were all normal signs of pregnancy. But at six months, there was no longer any fetal movement. She only felt a slight twisting or trembling inside of her, but these weren’t the sensations of a baby kicking inside her womb.

  The thickly made-up obstetrician sneered at her worries. “You still haven’t found a father for the child? This is all because of that.”

  “Well, I mean, it’s not so easy—”

  “Nothing in life is easy! Did you really think pregnancy would be easy? What are you trying to do about it? Do you have any idea how little time you have left?”

  “I’m looking, but—”

  “If this is your attitude now, what kind of a mother do you think you’re going to be? Think about it. There’s a new life growing in your belly right this minute. A human being is being created. You have to take responsibility for an entire human being! But if you’re this nonchalant at the fetus’ development stage, what are you going to do once you give birth?”

  “But that’s—”

  “You seem to be complacent because you can’t actually see the baby right now, but keep this up and you’ll really see what you’re doing to the baby. If you want a normal child, you’ll do whatever it takes to find a father.”

  “But I really am trying to find the baby a good father, for the sake of the child—”

  “You’re running out of time!”

  The top of the obstetrician’s head seemed about to pop off far above her layers of blue eyeshadow and black eyeliner— her narrowed stare so sharp that it threatened to cut anyone who met it.

  Defeated, she quickly left the hospital.

  It wasn’t easy going about seeing people with her protruding belly. When the man on her thirty-seventh seon date took one look at her stomach and fled the café without a word, she declared that she would no longer go on anymore seon dates. She made a big show of proclaiming that she had conceived on her own and therefore would raise the baby on her own. But she couldn’t do anything about the persistent worry and fear that tormented her, that she was somehow irreparably harming the child by having this baby without a father.

  Her daily routine devolved into keeping herself comfortable in bed and listening to music and watching videos that were said to be good for expecting mothers. She ate foods high in iron because her morning sickness had been replaced by anemia. Her sense of taste didn’t change however, nor did she suddenly crave foods she normally disliked. Her days were slow and peaceful, and all of her relatives who would usually never give her a second thought were suddenly very interested in her well-being and treated her like a fragile heirloom, always making sure to ask if there was anything she might want. Aside from the times she had to go to the obstetrician for examinations, her life had settled down and she felt content.

  One day, as she read fairy tales for expecting mothers while listening to music for expecting mothers, her phone buzzed. It was a text message.

  Call me immediately.

  She had never seen the number before. Figuring it was a wrong number, she deleted the message.

  Ten minutes later, her phone buzzed again. It was the same message. She deleted it.

  Fifteen minutes later, her phone buzzed yet again. The same message. This time, there were exclamation marks.

  Call me!! Immediately!!

  Someone with an emergency must have the wrong number. She pressed dial.

  “Hello?” answered an unfamiliar male voice.

  “Hello? Did you send me a text just now?”

  “Are you Kim Young-lan?”

  This surprised her. “Yes, I’m Kim Young-lan. Who are you?”

  She heard a rustling sound.

  “Itseu my lady, oh, itseu my lobeu! Oh, datseu, I mean, dat she, she new she wuh! She seu-peak-seu yet she seseu no, I mean, nuh-ssing, wut obeu det? Huh eye diseu, dee, deesu-co-ssiseu, ahee will en-suh it, ah-im too boldeu, uh, teu, tiseu nat to me she seu-peakseu—”

  (It is my lady, O, it is my love! / O, that she knew she were! / She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? / Here eye discourses; I will answer it, / I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks—)

  “Um … hello?”

  The man continued, his voice slightly louder, “Too obeu duh peh, peh-uh-resteu staseu in oll duh heh-beun, heh-bing sum bee-jeu-nee-seu, do, uh, en, entreeteu huh ah-iseu, to, to teu-inkle—”

  (Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, / Having some business, do entreat her eyes / To twinkle …)

  “Hold on!” she shouted. The man stopped his recitation. “What on Earth are you doing?”

  “It’s from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Second act, second scene, in the Capulets’ garden.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s how I feel. I knew the moment I saw your picture in the paper. You are the woman of my destiny. Oh, yu, ah, my, ro-seu, my buhning ha-teu—”

  “In the paper? What paper?”

  “I could really sense your womanliness from the headline: ‘Looking for a Man to Be My Child’s Father.’ Such a cut above the usual pandering for a husband! Such femininity, such literary sensitivity. My darling Young-lan, we are meant to be. Through our passion for literature, too-geh-duh dee-peu luhbeu endeu un-duh-seu-ten-ding—”

  “Look, you have the wrong idea—”

  “I may be so poor that I committed the faux pas of asking you to call me instead of calling you first, but I will pay you back for the phone call someday. Capitalism is nothing before the forces of love and passion! Oh, my lay-ee-dee, my lehdeu roseu—”

  “I’m not an English major!”

  She slammed down the phone and looked for a newspaper. On the very last page was her photograph accompanied by large letters: looking for a man to be my child’s father. Her name and age were next to the photo along with “Graduate student, literature” as her occupation. Her phone number, clearly printed, underneath that.

  At the dinner table, she brandished the newspaper and berated her family. They glanced at each other and said it had been a last-ditch effort to get her child a father.

  “We thought it might be easier if we were just honest about it up front …”

  She was annoyed, but thinking back on the obstetrician’s warning, she couldn’t help but agree just a little. She suffered through many phone calls after that. But she did have a glimmer of hope before picking up every call.

  When she refused to answer Romeo’s pleading texts, he began calling her. Every day, it was a new scene from a play of some male charac
ter wooing a woman, topped off with his begging her to meet him. There were prank calls from children, as well as serious calls from women offering to introduce her to their brothers, fathers, sons, even husbands. There were threats, too.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Ms. Kim Young-lan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Remember me, bitch?”

  “What?”

  “We fucked. Don’t you remember? Your baby is my baby.”

  “Uh, I think you’ve dialed the wrong—”

  “Enough with this bullshit. Let’s talk. Bring ten million won to the MM Hotel coffee shop at noon tomorrow. Then I’ll keep it a secret.”

  “Excuse me, what was the number you wanted to call?”

  “Are you stupid or something? Is tomorrow too soon? All right, I’ll cut you a break. You have until this weekend to come to the MM Hotel coffee shop with the money. Or else I’m going to go around your neighborhood saying that we fucked and that your baby is mine. Understand? Everyone is going to know what a slut you are.”

  “Actually, that’s exactly what I need, a man to be the father—”

  “Your future is at stake so think about it. Ten million won until this weekend. Got it?”

  He hung up.

  She suffered through many more pointless calls. Then one day, she finally received a somewhat promising one.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, I’m calling in answer of an ad. Are you Kim Younglan?” The man’s voice was young and polite.

  “This is she.”

  “You said you were looking for a father for the child, right? Do you have any specific requirements? Age, or that kind of thing …”

  She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She answered vaguely, “Well, I don’t know about any requirements, I guess as long as it’s someone who can be a good father—”

  “Oh, really?” The man seemed to think for a while. “Then how does one apply to be the child’s father?”

  She grinned, thinking he was an interesting person. “You don’t need to put in an application. Could you tell me about yourself?”

  “Oh, how rude of me.” He went on to say he was thirty-three years old, a graduate of a top school, and currently working at a conglomerate. Having never worked in a corporate setting, she wasn’t sure what his job title really meant, but she had a feeling that he was in a very high position for someone so young. Really, a flawless candidate. Even if he were lying, and it was true she was a little suspicious, she found herself liking the overall impression he gave off as a person. More than anything else, she liked that he had asked her what she was looking for in a father. After a long conversation, they made a date to meet at the MM Hotel coffee shop on the weekend and hung up.

  On the day of the date, she chose the most business-like maternity dress she had, carefully applied her makeup, and went to the café with her heart pounding and her arms hugging her belly.

  At the entrance, as she stood for a moment looking around, wondering who might be her date, a young man approached her.

  “Are you Kim Young-lan?”

  “I am.”

  The man whose voice she recognized from the phone was exceptionally handsome. She followed him to a table. There was an old man sitting there, and two men wearing sunglasses standing at attention behind him.

  The young man introduced the old one. “This is my father-in-law.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll leave you two alone, then.”

  “Uh, could you wait a minute …”

  The young man left the café.

  The old man spoke. “Sit down.”

  One of the sunglassed men behind him pulled out a chair. Not knowing what else to do, she sat down.

  “I’ll get straight to the point. I’m Suh Woochang, head of the Woochang Group.” This startled her. “The man that just left, he’s my son-in-law. I’m the last in eight generations of only sons. I had no children until I was fifty, and only had one daughter. We poured all our care into her, but she ended up with that useless piece of garbage you just saw. I was going to overlook it and pass on the company if they had a son, but it’s already been six years with no child. I ended up with a dickless piece of shit for a son-in-law and for that, I’m about to lose everything I worked my whole life for.”

  He was getting worked up by his own story. She was finding the situation more and more confusing.

  “So anyways, young lady.” He suddenly shifted closer to her and grabbed her hand. “That child in your belly, give it to me. The field is already tilled and all you need is the seed, right? I’ll give you my seed. Or why not come into my house as a concubine? You just have to continue our line, give me a nice, fat son, and I’ll make sure you and the child will live a happy life.”

  “Uh, excuse me, grandfather, but—”

  “My idiot son-in-law tells me you said age wasn’t an issue. I’m eighty-two, but as hot-blooded as any young man. I’ll put your name down on the family registry and everything, what do you say?”

  “Grandfather, that’s not—” As she desperately sought a way out of this mess, trying to extract her hand from his, her phone rang. Relieved, she finally managed to snatch her hand back and answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  But there was no answer and the line went dead. The old man grabbed her hand again.

  “What do you say, young lady? Give me a son and you’ll live the rest of your life in luxury as a chaebol wife. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

  “Kim Young-lan?”

  She looked up. A cruel-faced middle-aged man stood before her.

  “You know who I am, right? Did you bring the ten million won?”

  “Who the hell are you?” the old man asked, frowning at this interloper.

  “Me?” The other man took out a cigarette from his shirt pocket, lit it, and blew a plume of smoke into the old man’s face. The sunglassed men behind the old man took a step forward, but the old man held up a hand to halt them. The men took a step back.

  The middle-aged man puffed leisurely on his cigarette. “I’m this woman’s lover. The baby in her belly is mine.”

  “What?”

  “Are you her father? Or some old pervert trying to buy her for sex? Jesus, did I hit the jackpot this time.” He smiled at the old man, brought his face down within an inch of the old man’s, and said in a low, threatening voice, “I don’t know if she’s your precious daughter or your trophy wife, but if you don’t want everyone to think she’s having my baby, you better hand over fifty million won, fast.”

  “What the hell is this bastard saying!” The old man shouted so loudly that the sunglassed men stepped up to them again.

  The middle-aged man didn’t back down. “Bastard? Who are you calling bastard? If you know what’s good for you, hand over the money while I’m feeling generous. Then I’ll be on my way.”

  The old man looked at her and the middle-aged man and went, “Huh!” and stood up, whacking his cane on the floor. The sunglassed men hurried to support him.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” The middle-aged man grabbed the old man by the collar. “Do you think this is some—oof!”

  One of the sunglassed men had swiftly punched the middle-aged man in the stomach. He rolled about on the floor as the goons turned to leave with the old man.

  “You fucking bastards, you hit me!” He leaped at the three departing men, and the four of them ended up on the floor in a tangled heap of bodies. One of the sunglassed men quickly began to help the old man up while the other mercilessly beat up the middle-aged man. The café customers screamed. A hotel worker frantically called someone on the phone.

  Carefully avoiding the fighting, she slipped out on her own.

  Her heart felt many times heavier than her belly as she walked to the bus stop. She felt stupid, yet also couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation just now.

  The bus arrived. She tried not to fall flat on her face as she made her
way up the steps. The bus driver watched with annoyance and started driving before she had made it completely up. She almost fell but grabbed the bus card scanner just in time.

  Although the bus wasn’t that crowded, there were no empty seats. She wanted to go to the back as she had a long way to go, but it was hard to keep her balance in the shaky bus; she grabbed a pole near the driver’s seat and hung on for dear life.

  “Young lady, sit here,” said the middle-aged woman sitting near her.

  “Oh, I’m all right, thank you.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’re all right at all!” The woman smiled warmly as she pretended to admonish her. “Your stomach is as big as Namsan Mountain, how could it be all right to stay standing on a shaking bus? You’re making me all nervous! Sit down this minute.”

  “Thank you so much.” She gave an embarrassed smile as she gingerly sat down with the help of the older woman.

  Just as she settled down, the middle-aged woman looked closely at her face and blurted out, “Hey, aren’t you the girl from the newspaper?”

  “Excuse me?” But she knew what was coming and her heart was sinking to her stomach.

  “You know, the one who’s looking for a father for her child?”

  “Uh …” She was still in shock from what had happened in the café, and the very mention of the ad made her want to cry. She bitterly regretted not having cancelled the ad sooner.

  “The real father must’ve run away after you got pregnant, am I right?” The older woman was already weaving her own story about her. “You poor thing. How could he leave such a young and pretty girl?”

  The middle-aged woman patted her back like she was her real mother. It was infuriating and she was indignant, but at the same time, the woman’s warm hand did feel like it was gently patting away the hurt.

  “I mean, that’s life,” the older woman went on to say. “And life goes on. Think of the child in your belly. Live only for the child. It’s not easy raising a kid alone these days, but you’ve got to be strong and keep living your life! Children grow up so fast. Mark my words, today will seem like a distant memory soon enough …”