Min Lee - Pachinko

“If I’d known, I would’ve stopped sending money to our parents,” Kyunghee mumbled to herself.

Sunja looked straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with anyone on the busy street who glanced in their direction. She was trying to figure out what she’d say to the broker.

“Sister, you saw his sign in Korean, right?” Sunja said. “That would make him Korean, right?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know anyone who’s ever been there.”

Following the Korean signs posted on the facade of the low brick building, the women climbed up the wide stairs to the second floor. The pawnbroker’s office door had a curtained window, and Sunja opened it gingerly.

It was a warm, breezeless day in June, but the older man behind the desk wore a green silk ascot tucked into his white dress shirt and a brown woolen vest. The three square windows facing the street were open, and two electric fans whirred quietly in the opposite corners of the office. Two younger men with similar chubby faces played cards by the middle window. They glanced up and smiled at the two women.

“Welcome. How can I be of service?” the pawnbroker asked them in Korean. His hometown accent was hard to place. “Would you like to sit down?” He motioned to the chairs, and Sunja told him she’d prefer to stand. Kyunghee stood next to Sunja and refused to look at the men.

Sunja opened the palm of her hand to show him the pocket watch.

“ Ajeossi , how much could you give us for this?”

The man raised his gray-black eyebrows and pulled out a loupe from his desk drawer.

“Where did you get this?”

“My mother gave it to me. It’s solid silver and washed in gold,” Sunja said.

“She knows you’re selling it?”

“She gave it to me to sell. For the baby.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer a loan for the watch? Maybe you don’t want to let go of it,” he asked. Loans were rarely repaid, and he’d be able to keep the collateral.

Sunja spoke slowly: “I want to sell it. If you don’t wish to buy it, I won’t trouble you any longer.”

The broker smiled, wondering if the pregnant girl had already been to his competitors. There were three pawnbrokers just a few streets away. None of the others were Korean, but if she spoke any Japanese, it would have been easy to sell the watch. The pretty woman who accompanied the pregnant one before him looked a little Japanese in the way she dressed; it was hard to tell. It was possible that the pretty one had brought the pregnant girl along to negotiate with him and that the watch belonged to her.

“If you have a need to sell it,” the broker said, “I always take pleasure helping a person from home.”

Sunja said nothing. In the market, say very little, her father had taught her.

Kyunghee marveled at her sister-in-law appearing calmer than she’d ever seen her.

The pawnbroker examined the watch with care, opening its silver casing to study the mechanical workings visible through its open crystal back. It was an extraordinary pocket watch, and impossible to believe that this pregnant woman’s mother could have owned such a thing. The watch was maybe a year old if that and without a scratch. He turned it faceup again and laid it on the green leather blotter on his desk.

“Young men prefer wristwatches these days. I’m not even sure if I can sell this.”

Sunja noticed that the broker had blinked hard after saying this, but he hadn’t blinked once when he was talking to her before.

“Thank you for looking at it,” Sunja said, and turned around. Kyunghee was trying not to appear worried. Sunja picked up the watch and gathered the tail end of her long chima , preparing to walk out of the office. “We appreciate your time. Thank you.”

“I’d like to help you,” the broker said, raising his voice slightly.

Sunja turned around.

“If you need the money right away, perhaps it would be easier for you to sell it here than walking around in this hot day in your condition. I can help you. It looks like you’ll have the child soon. I hope it’s a boy who’ll take good care of his mother,” he said.

“Fifty yen,” he said.

“Two hundred,” she said. “It’s worth at least three hundred. It’s made in Switzerland and brand-new.”

The two men by the window put down their cards and got up from their seats. They’d never seen a girl talk like this.

“If you think it’s worth so much, then why don’t you sell it for a higher price elsewhere,” the broker snapped, irritated by her insolence. He couldn’t stand women who talked back.

Sunja bit her inner lower lip. If she sold it to a Japanese pawnbroker, Sunja feared that the broker may alert the police about the watch. Hansu had told her that the police were involved in nearly all the businesses here.

“Thank you. I won’t waste any more of your time,” Sunja said.

The pawnbroker chuckled.

Kyunghee suddenly felt confident of her sister-in-law, who had been so helpless upon her arrival in Osaka that she had to carry her name and address written in Japanese on a card in case she got lost.

“What did your mother do back home?” the pawnbroker asked. “You sound like you’re from Busan.”

Sunja paused, wondering if she had to answer the question.

“Did she work in the markets there?”

“She’s a boardinghouse keeper.”

“She must be a clever businesswoman,” he said. The broker had figured that her mother must have been a whore or a merchant of some sort who collaborated with the Japanese government. The watch could also have been stolen. From her speech and dress, the pregnant girl was not from a wealthy family. “Young lady, you’re sure that your mother gave this to you to sell. You are aware that I will need your name and address in case there’s any trouble.”

Sunja nodded.

“Okay, then. A hundred twenty-five yen.”

“Two hundred.” Sunja didn’t know if she’d get this amount, but she felt certain that the broker was greedy, and if he was willing to go to 125 from fifty, then surely the Japanese brokers would think it was valuable, too.

The broker burst out laughing. The young men were now standing by the desk, and they laughed as well. The younger one said, “You should work here.”

The broker folded his arms close to his chest. He wanted the watch; he knew exactly who would buy it.

“Father, you should give the little mother her price. If only because she’s so persistent!” the young one said, knowing his father didn’t like to lose a bargain and would need some coaxing. He felt sorry for the girl with the puffy face. She wasn’t the usual kind of girl who came up here to sell gold rings whenever she was in trouble.

“Does your husband know you’re here?” the pawnbroker’s younger son asked.

“Yes,” Sunja replied.

“Is he a drinker or a gambler?” The son had seen desperate women before, and the stories were always the same.

“Neither,” she said in a stern voice, as if to warn him not to ask any more questions.

“A hundred seventy-five yen,” the broker said.

“Two hundred.” Sunja could feel the warm, smooth metal in her palm; Hansu would have held firm to his price.

The broker protested, “How do I know that I can sell it?”

“Father,” the older son said, smiling. “You’d be helping a little mother from home.”

The broker’s desk was made of an unfamiliar wood — a rich dark brown color with teardrop-shaped whorls the size of a child’s hand. She counted three teardrop whorls on the surface. When she’d gone to collect mushrooms with Hansu, there had been innumerable types of trees. The musty smell of wet leaves on the forest carpet, the baskets filled to bursting with mushrooms, the sharp pain of lying with him — these memories would not leave her. She had to be rid of him, to stop this endless recollection of the one person she wished to forget.