From Wonso Pond (12 page)

Never mind that she was so beautiful, with that black mole on her brow! Everything about her left an indelible impression on his mind. Now, if only he had the chance to talk to her, he said to himself. All he
had to do was make his way to the riverside, and there surely, he'd be able to meet her. The hard part was coming up with a good excuse with which to shake off Okchom.

Okchom came back to his room.

“Mother's going to come with us.”

“Good.”

Though he was quick to offer this reply, Sinch'ol was now loath to go anywhere.

“Come on, get up, before it gets too hot.”

Sinch'ol pondered something for a moment.

“Why don't we take your father along as well?”

“Father? What in Heaven's name for?”

She glanced over at him and smiled. He smiled back.

“Granted they're no spring chickens, but shouldn't the old couple go out for a stroll, too, every once and a while?” he chuckled.

Okchom laughed along with him. Surely it would make a good picture for her and Sinch'ol to walk side by side in front of her parents.

“Yes, let's take him along with us then . . . But I don't think Father has come up from the lower house yet.”

Okchom pranced over to the men's quarters. As he watched her go, Sinch'ol wondered whether Sonbi was doing the laundry alone today. Okchom soon returned.

“Father's not even here . . .”

At this, Sinch'ol jumped to his feet. He grabbed his hat off the hook on the wall and placed it on his head.

“I'll get your father. You two go ahead. It's the same melon hut we walked to last time, right?”

A flicker of displeasure crossed Okchom's eyes, but then she burst out laughing.

“Oh, stop it, Sinch'ol. Forget about Father.”

“No, you two go along. I'll find your father and meet you there.”

Sinch'ol made his way out of the house. He could feel the hot sun beating down on his body. As he stepped through the front gate and paused for a moment, he thought: Okay, so what next?

24

Sinch'ol had managed to dash out of the house in his desperate attempt to lose Okchom, but once he'd made his way outside, he still faced the problem of pulling off a chance meeting with Sonbi.

He looked at the grove of trees in the distance surrounding Wonso Pond. Then he turned toward the lower village, where Tokho's concubine lived. Finally, he shifted his gaze to the fields straight in front of him, where the melon hut was located.

But then Okchom and her mother came out of the house.

“You haven't left yet?”

Okchom wore a powder blue dress with a straw hat fit snugly on her head. Okchom's mother stared at Sinch'ol and her daughter, her lips hiding a smile. Though there had been no formal discussion of it yet, in her eyes, the two were a future couple.

“Come with me to your father's place?” Sinch'ol asked Okchom.

“What? I told you I'd never go there. I don't ever want to set my eyes on that whore.”

Okchom spun around and walked away. Sinch'ol had deliberately asked the question in order to solicit precisely this response.

“Well, why not? Doesn't she count as your mother, too?”

“
Ara ma!
Well, I never!” cried Okchom in Japanese, walking away with her mother's hand clasped in her own. “Hurry up and get Father . . . We'll be waiting for you.”

Now Sinch'ol was hardly able to contain his excitement. Everything had gone far more smoothly than he ever could have imagined. He waited for his heartbeat to return to its regular rhythm, then slowly set off behind Okchom.

Okchom was just short of the entrance to the village when she looked back his way. She made some sort of gesture with her hands and then disappeared behind the buckwheat fields. Sinch'ol sighed with relief. Now for the hard part! he thought, setting off at a clip, his eyes fixed on Wonso Pond.

The closer he got to the grove of trees beside the pond, the shorter of breath he grew. He was afraid of the worst—that Okchom might come up from behind him—and he kept looking behind him.

He heard the sound of trickling water and stopped for a moment. Then, weaving his way through the willows, he quietly made his way
into the grove. The long, draping branches felt cool as they grazed his shoulders. He hid in the cover of the trees, looking around this way and that to see if anyone else was there.

He could hear the sound of the laundry club, pounding wet clothes. It made the quiet grove of trees even more tranquil. His view of the laundry club was obscured by the willows, but the mere sound of someone pounding was enough to convince him that Sonbi was there. He gradually made his way toward her. Her right cheek appeared like a circle before him. Sinch'ol froze in place and looked once more over his shoulder. But what would he say to Sonbi if he went up to her? Whenever he came up with something to say to her, on second thought, it seemed he had nothing. Oh, what should I do? Again, he wavered. His feet felt like lead, his heart was racing.

He'd often gone with friends to cafés and the like. This was the first time he'd ever had trouble approaching a woman.

The pounding suddenly stopped and he could hear the sound of splashing water—she was probably rinsing out the clothes now. He leaned up against the trunk of a willow tree, thinking, Oh, just go back! What the hell are you doing? What use is there in talking to her anyway? He wanted to turn away, but here he was, still pressed against this tree. He shut his eyes tightly. He thought of Okchom waiting for him at the melon hut. But Okchom's image gradually faded away, and now it was Sonbi's face that he saw so clearly. “What's gotten into me? How long have I known this girl?” With this on his lips, he spun around. He stared down at some quartz shimmering beneath the flowing water. Father still thinks I'm restoring my health at MonggÅ­mp'o Beach, he suddenly remembered, jerking his head in the other direction. He grabbed a willow branch hanging down in front of him and snapped it in half. He stripped it of its leaves with a single swipe that left his hand stinging. Scattering the leaves into the flowing water, he slowly walked back to the village.

As he approached the melon hut, he stopped. In order to get rid of Okchom, he'd told her he was going to pick up her father, he remembered. Okchom climbed down from the melon hut.

“You're alone?”

He hesitated.

“Well, you see . . . on the way over there I . . . I changed my mind, and decided to come by myself.”

His face went a little red. Okchom flashed her eyes brightly.

“Well, come on. Let's climb up inside. I picked out the ripest melons.”

25

Sinch'ol had only taken a few steps towards the hut before he noticed the melons, each the size of a baby's head, growing beneath all the vines. He walked to the side of the patch to touch one, then removed his hat and began fanning himself.

“Just look at these. This is why I love the countryside!”

Okchom spun around, stood a moment, and walked over to him.

“It's hot out here. Let's go up inside.”

Okchom had small beads of sweat forming beneath her nose. Sinch'ol wanted to catch his breath before climbing into the melon hut, so he plopped to the ground at the side of the field. Okchom's mother, meanwhile, had craned her neck to see what was going on.

“Why are you sitting there, of all places?” Okchom said with a scowl.

Sinch'ol shielded his face from the sun with his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. He took a deep breath of air. Okchom stared at his broad shoulders. She was convinced that if she were in his position, she would never have sat facing away from him. It was unbearable that the two of them weren't sitting face to face—even for this brief instant. She felt ignored.

Sinch'ol jumped to his feet and took several brisk strides away from her. After searching in the grass for a moment, he lifted up a cluster of strawberries, leaves still attached. He held them up with a smile on his face as he walked back to Okchom.

“Oh, where did you find them? They're such a pretty color!”

Okchom snatched them out of Sinch'ol's hand and studied them, her head cocked to the side.

“
Kore anata no haato
? Is this your heart?” she asked in Japanese, staring up at Sinch'ol with a faint coloring on her cheeks. Sinch'ol looked back and forth between the strawberries and Okchom's face. He felt a strange urge grow inside of him.

“Come, let's go up now.”

Okchom walked ahead, and Sinch'ol followed her up the ladder. Okchom's mother looked between the two affectionately.

“What's the matter? Did your father say he didn't want to come?”

“Who'd want to go and see that whore!” Okchom answered, as she tried to select a melon.

She glanced over at Sinch'ol, then turned to her mother, who still seemed a little disappointed. “Well, it is awfully hot today, isn't it?” Okchom's mother said, brushing off her hurt feelings with a smile.

“Did the owner say this was a sweet one, mother?”

Okchom held up one of the melons.

“Yes, go ahead and slice it.”

Okchom cut it in half with a knife. The flesh was green, and gave off the strong smell of honey.

“Oh, look at this. I bet it's delicious.”

Holding it up for them both to see, Okchom peeled off the skin and gave a piece to Sinch'ol.

“Why don't we give this to your mother?” he said, taking it from her.

“Oh, just eat it.”

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she tossed the knife to the floor. Then, picking up the strawberries she had placed beside her, she smiled. To her, they seemed like tokens of Sinch'ol's love. She stared at the strawberries from different angles, then attached them to her hat.

“Look. Isn't this pretty?”

Okchom's mother had dozed off for a moment, but started up at the sound of her daughter's voice.

“My goodness! Where did the strawberries come from?”

“Mother, didn't you know I had them?” she laughed, then added, “It looks like you're falling asleep again . . .”

“Let's go back, then.”

“Already? Why don't you go ahead.”

Her mother rose slowly. It seemed difficult for her to stay any longer.

“Enjoy yourself, young man. I'm going back now.”

“Oh, but why not go back with us?”

Sinch'ol followed Okchom's mother to the base of the hut and bowed to her politely. Okchom looked down on them from atop the platform.

“
Anata wa baka shōjiki wa ne
. Don't be so earnest,” she said with a chuckle.

Okchom's mother turned around to look at Sinch'ol once again, and thought what a fine son-in-law he'd make. When Sinch'ol climbed back into the hut, he found Okchom wearing her hat, posing with the cluster of strawberries.

“What do you think?”

“Very nice . . . But let's just eat them. I want to see how they taste.”

Okchom took off her hat and picked off the strawberries. She placed one in Sinch'ol's hand and popped the other inside her mouth. As Okchom's lips took on the color of the berry's red juices, Sinch'ol thought about what she'd just said to him about the strawberries and his heart. Then he felt a keen sense of loss as the image of Sonbi doing laundry appeared before his eyes. It was possible that one of those willow leaves he'd scattered on the pond had eventually touched Sonbi's fingers, he imagined, but surely she would have brushed it indifferently aside!

26

“A penny for your thoughts?” said Okchom, inching closer to Sinch'ol.

Sinch'ol pointed to the fluffy cumulus clouds hanging high above the stalks of sorghum.

“Look over there. Isn't that beautiful?”

Okchom looked up to where he was pointing.

“So you want to become a poet now?”

“A poet?”

What Okchom had said quite innocently seemed to prick at Sinch'ol's very core. He had become prey to his feelings recently and he knew that this would only bring trouble.

It was precisely because he'd become far too sensitive that he had taken a leave of absence from school and come here to the countryside. He had left town saying he was off to strengthen his body and mind. But thanks to this girl, Okchom, whom he unexpectedly found himself spending time with, any hope for self-improvement had vanished into thin air. And now, day after day, he had a new cause for anguish! The situation seemed near impossible for him to keep under control.

When he'd first met this girl on the train, he'd found himself intrigued by her, but within the course of a few days he knew for certain that he
wouldn't want to spend very much time with her—even if she might be enjoyable to have around for a while. And yet for some reason he didn't want to leave this house, or even this village. In fact that's why he had stayed only a few days at Monggŭmp'o beach before returning.

Okchom stared at the fluffy clouds for a while, before stealthily shifting her line of vision onto Sinch'ol. Oh, those eyes gazing out onto the clouds! And that nose of steel that came down between them! Okchom knew this was a mark of his intelligence.

At this point, her mother and even her father seemed to approve of Sinch'ol as a potential son-in-law—or rather, they seemed to acknowledge the tacit agreement they assumed she and Sinch'ol had already made between themselves. The fact was, though, that she and Sinch'ol had made no such agreement, nor had either of them even suggested such intentions. This made Okchom nervous. While Sinch'ol continued to feign complete innocence, Okchom, unwilling to appear too forward, had been trying to gently guage his feelings.