New Year's Day, 1958
On the morning of New Year's Day, Sunrye rose early and cooked for her husband and the children.
Ten years had already passed since she met Ki-jo, though she could hardly believe so much time had gone. She had married a man who came to her empty-handed, and yet, in the living of those years, she had begun to hear people say they were getting on rather well.
His face from a decade ago came back to her: a thin young man, darkened by the sun, quick with a shy smile. She remembered how hard her heart had pounded the first time she heard his voice.
She was turning the memory over with quiet pleasure when the soup came to a boil, and she shifted the pot onto the flat of the stove. Tray in hand, she opened the little side door into the inner room and found Ki-jo there with Yeongsu. The bedding had been folded neatly away, and the two of them were deep in their morning talk. Her husband always came home late, so he used these early hours to teach the boy one thing and another and to listen to whatever his son had to tell. Sunrye held still and watched.
"Tell me what you learned at school."
"Dong-o-myeong, cheong-jeong-bang. Seo-jo-sae, neop-sam-min."
"And what's that?"
"In the East Sea they catch squid, pollock, herring, sardine, and yellowtail. In the West Sea it's yellow croaker, shrimp, flounder, Spanish mackerel, and brown croaker."
Proud of him, Ki-jo laughed and smoothed the boy's hair.
"Anything else new?"
"The song of the sixteen countries that fought in the Korean War."
"Let's hear it."
"Ne-nyu-kol-ta~ mi-yeong-o-kae~"
"Bel-geu-ruk-e~ peu-pil-teo-nam~"
The moment Yeongsu set the words to a children's tune, Ki-jo grinned so hard it seemed his face might split.
"The Netherlands, New Zealand, Colombia, Thailand, the United States, Britain, Australia, Canada..."
One by one the boy matched every clipped syllable of the song to the name of a nation — all sixteen of them — and Ki-jo could not take his eyes off him.
"Did your teacher teach you that?"
"No. The sixth-graders were singing it, the older boys and girls, so I asked them to teach me."
"Good. Yeongsu. You did well..."
Ki-jo stroked his son's hair, his eyes gone soft as dripping honey.
Sunrye had watched them that far. At last she came in with the tray.
"Breakfast is ready."
She gathered Yeongeun into her arms and fed her a thin rice gruel. Ki-jo picked the bones from the Spanish mackerel Sunrye had grilled and laid the flesh over his son's rice. She could tell him to stop, that he would spoil the child, but he liked doing it too much to quit. He was so unfailingly gentle that she sometimes wondered whether another husband like him existed anywhere, or another father.
"Busy again today?"
"Meeting people. Hearing them out. The usual."
He said it as if it were nothing, but Sunrye thought of how hard it must be. The business had grown until the people they employed numbered in the thousands. It could not be easy.
Now and then Ki-jo talked in his sleep, as if he were speaking with someone inside a dream. More often than not he was saying thank you; at other times he pleaded with someone, or apologized. Whenever that happened she ached for him, and felt, for reasons she could not name, a little guilty herself.
After Ki-jo left for the company, Sunrye turned to the housework. She was wringing out a dishcloth and spreading it to dry on the warm stove when Haemi arrived from Mapo.
"Sister! I'm here!"
"Come in, Haemi."
Haemi was in middle school, and she rode the bus over often. Ki-jo must have kept her well supplied with tickets; she boarded without the slightest hesitation.
"Has brother-in-law already left for work?"
She was always a step too late.
"Doesn't he always go early?"
"I came the moment I finished eating, just so I could see his face. Missed him again today..."
Haemi adored Ki-jo — enough that she said so to Sunrye all the time.
"Sister, listen. My dream is to meet a man like brother-in-law, the way you did, and become a good wife and a wise mother. My older brother-in-law is perfect. The younger one's nice too, but... he's a little scary."
Whenever Haemi talked like that, a laugh escaped Sunrye before she could help it.
Having come to play, Haemi washed her hands, amused Yeongeun, and even carried the baby on her back until the child fell asleep. In return for the help, Sunrye gave her cookies and tea. While they were sharing the snack, Haemi asked,
"Sister, how did you meet brother-in-law?"
"Your brother-in-law and I..."
The thought of ten years ago brought a smile to Sunrye's face of its own accord. But Haemi was still only a middle-school girl; she could not tell her everything. She cut the story short at both ends.
"Your brother-in-law helped us across a stream. That was how we first met."
"He helped you across a stream? Did he carry you on his back so your feet wouldn't get wet?"
"Listen to you. What a thing to say. How could I let a man I'd only just met carry me on his back..."
Sunrye's face went scarlet. The memory of ten years ago opened before her eyes as if it were happening all over again.
Long before, their father and mother had abandoned them, and Sunrye and Soon-young had been living as dependents in their aunt's house in Byeokje Township, Goyang County. Before she met Ki-jo, Sunrye was seventeen, well of marriageable age, and talk of matchmakers was already coming and going. She knew she could not stay on her aunt's floor forever. If a decent man came through a match, she had told herself, she would marry and leave. She did not yet want to marry, but she believed that was the proper way of things.
That day she had gone with Soon-young to Wondang Township on an errand for their uncle, and they were on the way home. A hard summer cloudburst caught them midway. They sheltered beneath a hut, and when they stepped out again the stream they had to cross was swollen, the stepping-stones lost under the water. They were wondering what to do when a man came up behind them and began searching for where the stones might be.
Soon-young looked at him and asked,
"Mister, are you crossing the stream?"
Soon-young was fourteen then, about the age Haemi was now. Unsure whether the question was meant for him, the man looked from her to Sunrye and back again.
"If you're crossing, help us across too."
She made the request with perfect nerve. Sunrye stared at her sister, taken aback that she would ask such a thing of a stranger.
"How can I help?"
That was the first thing Ki-jo ever said to her. The moment Sunrye heard his voice, her heart began to pound. It was kind, and soft, and steady enough to trust.
"Cross first. If you think it's all right, come back and take us over by the hand."
Ki-jo nodded. He studied the water, then set his feet carefully on the submerged stones, hardly visible beneath the surface, and made his way to the far bank. He stood there looking back at Sunrye and Soon-young, and, just as he had promised, he returned.
"I've found the stones, but the current's fast. I think it may be a little dangerous."
"You just crossed twice. Doesn't that mean it's fine?"
"It does, but the rocks are slippery, and the water keeps pushing your feet. I'm a man, so I'm all right, but..."
"Then just carry us across on your back."
Sunrye, unable to endure her heedless little sister any longer, stepped in.
"I'm sorry. Please don't mind what my sister says. We'll cross on our own."
"It's all right. I'd like to help."
Ki-jo said it with a smile. Sunrye bowed to him, then turned to her sister.
"You apologize, right now. You don't ask that of someone you've only just met."
"Tch..."
Soon-young made a thoroughly displeased face, then gave in with poor grace.
"Sorry. You'll still help us, though, won't you?"
"Of course. Once the water drops a little, I'll cross with you."
Ki-jo moved a short way off from them and waited for the stream to fall. Sunrye wondered why he didn't simply ignore them and go, and whether he had somewhere urgent to be.
"We're not keeping you from somewhere you need to go, are we?"
"No."
Ki-jo looked at Sunrye and broke into a bright smile.
Soon-young grew bored and began tossing pebbles, one by one, into the blameless water. Half an hour may have passed before Ki-jo stood, found a stick, and brought it back.
"If you hold this, you should be able to cross."
He took Soon-young over first, the two of them gripping the stick together, and looked after the younger girl with care, telling her to watch where he stepped and to step only there. Once he had handed her safely across, he came back. He dropped down near Sunrye, saying he needed a moment.
"Let me rest just a little. I think I've turned my ankle."
"Really? I'm so sorry. This is because of us."
Ki-jo laughed and told her he was fine.
When the two of them stayed where they were on the bank, Soon-young shouted from the other side.
"Sister! Why aren't you crossing?"
"He says he needs to rest a moment!"
Soon-young did not look pleased at that. She kept her eyes fixed on the pair of them.
"Do you live around here?"
"Yes."
Sunrye answered the stranger without a trace of wariness. It was not in her nature, and yet when Ki-jo asked, the reply came out before she knew it.
"Is there any work in the village?"
"What sort of work do you do?"
"I'm an odd-job man. Tell me to do a thing and I'll do it, and I don't ask much for a day's wage."
He called himself an odd-job man, but to Sunrye he looked like someone who did fine and admirable work.
They were talking quietly together when Soon-young yelled again from across the water.
"Why aren't you coming over? If you're not going to cross, bring me back there!"
Ki-jo smiled at that.
"Shall we?"
The stick from before had vanished somewhere. He took Sunrye's hand in his own and led her across with the greatest care. It seemed to take twice as long as it had with Soon-young.
"Thank you."
When Sunrye offered the thanks, Ki-jo laughed and said it was nothing.
She took Soon-young and started for home, and Ki-jo followed the whole way. Had it been anyone else, she would have turned down some other lane, or slipped into the wrong house, for fear of showing him where she lived. Instead she simply went in at her aunt's door.
The next day, she found him again. He was repairing the cowshed at the house of Mr. Park, the richest man in the village. When she saw Ki-jo up on the cowshed roof, joy struck her so hard her heart leapt, and she watched him with a smile as wide as a full-blown flower.
A few days later, as they were eating breakfast together, her uncle said,
"I hear there's a decent bachelor over in Sindo Township. I mean to go have a look today."
It was as good as a declaration that he intended to marry her off.
"Yes..."
Sunrye's heart darkened. She bowed her head as she answered, and Soon-young, watching her sister's face, spoke up.
"Uncle, you don't have to go far. There's an odd-job man who's come into the village."
"An odd-job man?"
"Yes. He's fixing Mr. Park's cowshed, and he's mending fences without taking any pay, just eating whatever meals they'll give him."
When Soon-young brought up Ki-jo, relief washed through Sunrye, and she pressed a hand to her chest.
That evening the uncle brought Ki-jo home, fed him supper, and then, drawing on his long bamboo pipe, asked him this and that.
"What's your name?"
"Lee Ki-jo."
"Your age?"
"Eighteen."
"Hometown?"
"I don't know."
"Your parents?"
"I don't have any."
The uncle kept the pipe stem in his mouth and nodded.
From inside the room, Sunrye strained to catch every word. The uncle must have taken a liking to the young man, for he tossed out a single remark.
The moment she heard it, Sunrye's tears spilled over.
Seeing her sister cry, Soon-young had something to say.
"What are you crying for? Looks like you're about to be married off to that man. You were grinning ear to ear when he walked you across the stream — changed your mind already?"
"Quiet."
Sunrye gave her a sharp smack across the back.
The next day Ki-jo came again, to pay his respects to her uncle.
"I'm going to look around the Yangju area."
"All right. If you so much as find a patch of tenant land to farm, come straight back. I'll give you Sunrye."
Ki-jo bowed deeply to the uncle. Then his eyes met Sunrye's, where she watched through a door opened just a crack, and he smiled and lifted a hand in a wave.
For days afterward, the brightness of that smile would not leave her mind.
A month later, Ki-jo returned to Byeokje. He brought proof that there was land to farm, and that day the uncle poured him a drink.
Sunrye was still wandering through the memory of ten years ago when Haemi's question snapped her back.
"Sister, don't you feel cooped up?"
"Hm?"
"Our brother-in-law's company buses go all the way around Seoul."
"And why would you go riding around Seoul for no reason at all?"
"Come with me, Sister. Just riding his bus makes my heart swell. The drivers are kind, and the conductresses — you wouldn't believe how smart they are, and how well-mannered."
"Honestly, you..."
Unable to withstand Haemi's pleading, Sunrye bound Yeongeun to her back in a quilted wrapping cloth and went out to the bus stop. Haemi took Yeongsu by the hand, and they walked together.
When a bus drew up, the conductress stepped down to take their fares. Haemi offered a student ticket; Sunrye paid in cash. Seeing the baby on Sunrye's back and the child whose hand Haemi held, the conductress called out,
"Driver! Two children boarding. Drive safely!"
As they climbed aboard, the driver greeted them.
"Hello. A happy New Year to you."
Sunrye and Haemi returned the greeting.
The bus did not move until all four of them were settled in their seats. The driver checked his passengers in the rearview mirror and waited for the conductress's signal.
"Everyone seated! All right!"
At the signal, the bus eased gently into motion.
Watching the employees of her husband's company work with such courtesy and such order, Sunrye felt at ease. A quiet pride rose in her. He labored so hard, and the company, she could see, was running as it ought to.
She turned Yeongeun forward in her arms and watched the streets of Seoul go by, sunlight pouring through the bus window. Even so, her mind kept wandering back through the memory of ten years before.
After the uncle had formally introduced them, the two of them had gone walking in the night, hand in hand, and Ki-jo had looked up at the moon and said,
His guileless words had made her laugh. Why a man without even the money for a clock should seem so dear to her, she could not have said. If Ki-jo was only breathing there beside her, Sunrye was happy.
And she was happy still.