Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

“I’m not as bad as you make me out to be!” Sang-hun laughed. “I think I’d better send the messenger out again.”

“We can arrange that. Where would you like him to go?”

“The place is just around the corner.” Sang-hun hesitated, feeling embarrassed about bringing in Gyeong-ae. For the sake of appearances, he explained to the clerk, as briefly as possible, that Gyeong-ae managed a bar and had asked him to send someone over there.

“Ah, yes, yes. In that case, it would be my pleasure to escort her here, if no one else is available.” He bowed several times before he left.

Less than ten minutes had passed when Sang-hun heard approaching footsteps. The clerk couldn’t have returned with her so quickly, he thought; she must have arrived on her own. The door flung open and there stood Gyeong-ae.

Wearing a derisive smile on her face, she was in no hurry to enter the room. Sang-hun looked up, thinking she was probably drunk, although she didn’t act it.

Gyeong-ae had mixed feelings. The room looked familiar, yet utterly disgusted by it, she couldn’t bring herself to step inside and felt a strong urge to turn around and leave. She had guessed that Sang-hun would come to see her again, at least once more. When she received Sang-hun’s message, she was curious to hear what he had to say and eager to let out her own resentment and settle the matter of the child, but now, faced with this tipsy middle-aged man — in this room — she had a hard time holding back the fury within her.

Who can I blame? I was young and won over by his skill in seducing women. This was how she usually came to terms with her life whenever she was unhappy or wished she led a happy married life like other women.

Gyeong-ae came in and sat down at a distance from him, not facing him. “It’s so cold in here. Why not sit over here, a little closer to me?” Sang-hun’s face revealed how happy he was to see her. Unlike yesterday, he spoke in a gentle, solemn manner, as if the Sang-hun whom Gyeong-ae used to worship had reappeared.

Gyeong-ae stared at him. “Why do you want to see me?”

Sang-hun had asked her to come because he had something to say to her, but now he wasn’t sure what that was.

“Come now, there’s no need for you to act so defensively. What happened between us is all my fault,” he began, but the maid who had led Gyeong-ae to the room reappeared.

“Will you be staying overnight?” the maid asked. “If so, we’ll go ahead and get the bedding ready.”

Sang-hun had made up his mind to stay, but he made a show of looking down at his watch before he said to Gyeong-ae, “It’s so late. Let’s just stay.”

Gyeong-ae turned to the maid and said, “I’m leaving soon, so don’t lock the gate.”

Sang-hun winked at the maid as he said, “Go ahead and do whatever you have to do.”

The maid seemed to understand what was going on and left the room.

“You called me because you were afraid that I wouldn’t have anywhere to sleep tonight, is that it? You’re here because you were worried that I’d have to sleep at the police station again, huh?” Gyeong-ae sneered.

“Oh, stop it! I’m not going to try to talk you into staying. I’ve asked you to come here because I haven’t spoken with you in a long time. If you’re too busy to talk, then leave. We can arrange to meet some other time,” Sang-hun spoke as if he had nothing personal at stake.

Gyeong-ae was softened by the man’s apparent indifference. That was a tactic Sang-hun often used to steal a woman’s heart, and this was indeed how Gyeong-ae had first fallen into his arms. The very first time he had held her hand — as they were strolling the streets one night — he dropped it without warning and ran away, as if he were absolutely insane or had all of a sudden regretted making an impulsive mistake. With this, Gyeong-ae’s heart had taken one step backward but then two steps forward. When Sang-hun further stirred her curiosity and vague expectations by paying no attention to her after giving her a simple note of apology two days later at school, Gyeong-ae felt somewhat miffed and wrote him a reply, which sparked the events leading up to this day. Five years earlier, she hadn’t quite understood her emotions and longed for someone of the opposite sex as if in a dream. Someone who approaches but then backs away only intensifies one’s interest. Gyeong-ae responded to this more profoundly than most.

“What is this sudden interest of yours in me, yesterday and again today? Has God told you it’s now okay to see a woman like me? Have all the whores at Maedang House run away?”

Maedang House was a high-end hostess bar where Sang-hun and his cohorts had frequented on the sly for the past several years. It also happened to be something of a hangout for pimps and women of a certain ilk. It came as a great surprise to Sang-hun that Gyeong-ae knew of it.

“Where’s this Maedang House you’re talking about?” Sang-hun asked, laughing. Could she have cultivated links with such establishments? Once again, he was astonished by how far she had fallen. His heart sank with a vague sense of disappointment as though she had deceived him.

It took him a while before he spoke again. “So is the child getting along well?”

“Why do you ask all of a sudden?” Her face became flushed — she looked like a totally different person — and she glared at him as if she were ready to fight. “She’ll take leave of this world soon enough for the sake of Mr. Jo Sang-hun’s honor, don’t you worry!” She bit her lower lip and tears welled up in her eyes.

Was it because of her love for the child? Was it the affection she still had for Sang-hun? Was it the pent-up resentment she had harbored toward this man, who had said unimaginable things to her in the past? Something surged up from deep inside her and set her teeth grinding.

“Is the kid sick or something?” asked Sang-hun with a blank expression.

“Why would you care whether she’s sick and fighting for her last breath? What more is there to say after you pronounced that she wasn’t born of the Jo family seed?” Gyeong-ae leapt to her feet.

“Why are you so worked up? Sit down.”

“Why should I? Why should I sit down with you? Whoever her father is, I’m the one who gave birth to her, and her head will be resting on my lap when she dies.”

Although she confronted him defiantly, she still worried that he might remain indifferent to her plight and wash his hands of the child. He hadn’t shown any interest in the child for the past three years, and that he had suddenly come looking for her now probably had something to do with what Deok-gi had said to him. In any case, it had been impossible for her to make a living in these confusing times — she couldn’t earn a decent income by lounging around Bacchus day and night. She needed to settle the matter here and now.

“It’s not that I haven’t given it any thought. I’ll do my best to discuss the matter with you and figure something out, so don’t worry.” Sang-hun tugged at her coat, coaxing her to sit down.

Gyeong-ae grew suspicious over his unexpected willingness to cooperate. What motivated this feline grace? Was he planning to toy with her out of boredom, only to toss her away again? She wasn’t in the least afraid of being abandoned, but she wouldn’t let him get away so easily this time. She was going to make him suffer — a lot.

“What are you planning to do then?” she asked, sitting down.

He had no ready reply. He had sought Gyeong-ae on impulse and hadn’t yet thought of anything concrete that he could do for the child.

“Tell me, what would you like me to do?”

“She has the flu, and there’s no knowing what might happen to her. I can’t live without her. She could die at any moment.”