Min Lee - Pachinko

You’re not a Christian, are you?” Hana asked Solomon. She was sitting next to him in the pew. The minister had just finished eulogizing his great-grandmother, and the organist began to play “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” The funeral service would end after the song and a closing prayer.

Solomon tried to shush Hana politely, but as ever, she was persistent.

“It’s like a cult, nee ? But you don’t do anything interesting like get naked outdoors in a group or sacrifice babies? I read that people in America do things like that if they are serious Christians. But you don’t seem like one of those. You probably have to give lots of your money away since you’re rich, right?”

Hana was whispering to him in Japanese with her lips close to his ear, and Solomon made a serious face like he was trying to concentrate. He could smell her strawberry lip gloss.

He didn’t know how to reply. Some Japanese did believe that Christianity was a cult. His friends at school who were foreigners didn’t see it this way, but he didn’t know many Japanese who were Christians.

Hana poked him in the ribs with her left pinkie finger while looking straight ahead at the choir.

The choir was singing his great-grandmother’s favorite hymn. She used to hum it often.

Like everyone in his family, Solomon was a Christian. His paternal grandfather, Baek Isak, had been one of the early Presbyterian ministers in Osaka. When Solomon was growing up, people at church referred to his grandfather as a martyr because he had been jailed for his faith and had died upon his release. Sunja, Mozasu, and Solomon went to service each Sunday.

“It’s almost over, nee ? I need a beer, Solomon. Let’s go? I’ve been a good girl, and I sat through the whole thing.”

“Hana, she was my great-grandmother,” he said at last. Solomon remembered her as a gentle old woman who smelled like orange oil and biscuits. She didn’t speak much Japanese but always had treats and coins for him in her dark blue vest pockets.

“We should be more respectful.”

“Great-granny is now in heaven. Isn’t that what Christians say?” Hana mimicked a peaceful face.

“Still, she’s dead.”

“Well, you don’t seem very upset. Your grandmother Sunja doesn’t seem very sad,” she whispered. “Anyway, you’re a Christian, right?”

“Yeah, I am a Christian. Why do you care so much?”

“I want to know what happens after you die. What happens to babies that die?”

Solomon didn’t know what to say.

After her abortion, Hana had moved in with her mother. She’d refused to go back to Hokkaido and spent her days hanging out at Etsuko’s restaurant, bored and irritated by everything. She couldn’t handle the English at Solomon’s school, and she hated kids her own age and refused to go to the local high school. Etsuko was trying to figure out what Hana should do, but in the meantime, Hana had decided that Solomon was her project and followed him around at every opportunity.

Like everyone else, Solomon thought that Hana was exceptionally pretty, but Etsuko warned him that her daughter was a troublemaker and that he should befriend girls from his school.

“Finally! The prayer is over. Come on, we can get out now before the exits clog up.” Hana elbowed him gently, then pulled him out of his chair, and he let her lead him out of the building.

In the brightly lit alley behind the church, Hana leaned backward with one foot remaining on the ground and the other leg bent against the wall. She was smoking a cigarette. Again, she asked him why they couldn’t get beers.

There were kids at his school who drank, but Solomon didn’t like the taste much, and his friends invariably got in trouble when drunk. His father wouldn’t have gotten mad at him for stuff like that, and in a way, Solomon felt free to say no to his friends at parties because it wasn’t a big deal. But it was difficult to say no to Hana, because she was relentless when it came to what she wanted. Hana already thought he was too square.

Hana inhaled her cigarette deeply, making a lovely pout as she exhaled.

“No beer. Respects his great-grandmother’s funeral. Never angry at his father. Oh, Solomon, maybe you can be a minister.”

She clasped her hands in prayer and closed her eyes.

“I’m not going to be a minister. But what should I do when I grow up?” he asked.

An older boy at school had told a bunch of guys that all women are whores and all men are killers; girls cared about your future job because they wanted to marry rich guys.

“I don’t know, Minister Pachinko.” She laughed. “Hey, Christians aren’t supposed to fuck before marriage, right?”

Solomon buttoned his suit jacket. It felt chilly outside, and his coat was still hanging in the hall closet upstairs.

“You’re still a virgin,” she said, smiling. “I know. That’s okay. You’re only fourteen. Do you want to?”

“What?”

“With me? I can, you know.” She sucked on her cigarette again, even more suggestively. “I’ve done it. A lot. I know what you’ll like.” Hana held the necktie his father had tied for him that morning by the knot, then released her grasp slowly.

Solomon refused to look at her face.

The back door of the church opened slowly. Etsuko waved to them from the threshold.

“It’s cold. Why don’t you come inside? Solomon, you should be with your dad to greet the guests, right?”

Solomon could hear the anxiety in Etsuko’s voice. Hana tossed her cigarette and followed him inside.

At the reception, Hana continued to trail after Solomon. She asked him to guess her bra size. Solomon had no idea, but he was now thinking of her breasts.

The guests, mostly old people, left them alone, so the two milled around the reception.

“Let’s get beer at the 7-Eleven. We can go to my house to drink it. Or we can go to the park.”

“I don’t feel like beer.”

“Maybe you feel like having some pussy.”

“Hana!”

“Oh, shut up. You like me. I know you do.”

“Why do you have to talk like that?”

“Because I’m not a nice girl, and you don’t want to fuck a nice girl. Especially for your first time. Nobody does. I don’t want to marry you, Solomon. I don’t need your money.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Fuck you,” Hana said, and walked away from him.

Solomon caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

Hana gave him a chilly smile. It was as if she’d become someone else. She was wearing a dark blue wool dress with a white Peter Pan collar that made her look younger than him.

His grandmother Sunja appeared.

“ Halmoni ,” Solomon said, relieved to see her. He felt excited around Hana, but she also made him nervous and afraid. In her presence, it felt safer to have an adult around. Just yesterday, he caught her stealing a packet of chocolate wafers at the conbini . When she left the shop, Solomon had lingered to give the clerk the money for the wafers, worried that the clerk might get in trouble. In his dad’s business, if items were missing, clerks were fired immediately.

Sunja smiled at them. She touched Solomon’s upper arm as if to calm him. He looked flustered.

“You look very handsome in your suit.”

“This is Hana,” Solomon said, and Hana bowed to her formally.

Sunja nodded. The girl was very beautiful, but she had a defiant chin.

Sunja was on her way to talk with Mozasu but felt funny leaving Solomon with the beautiful girl.

“I’ll see you at home afterwards?” she asked.

Solomon nodded.

As soon as Sunja turned in the other direction, the girl led him outside the building.

Koh Hansu was walking with a cane. When he spotted Sunja walking diagonally across the reception room, he called out to her.