Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

Byeong-hwa wolfed down the rest of his food and dashed out of the house, eager to see Gyeong-ae. Byeong-hwa didn’t think he was in love with her, and it was impossible to think she loved him, but still, he was curious to know who she really was. He didn’t lack passion, but as his situation wouldn’t allow it, he didn’t entertain any hopes.

Byeong-hwa set out for Sang-hun’s house. He had been regretting leaving his torn coat there the day before. Walking against the chilly wind, Byeong-hwa passed the Six Boards buildings and climbed up the hill toward Samcheong-dong. When he arrived, Byeong-hwa was told that Sang-hun had gone out toward evening. Perhaps he had gone to meet Gyeong-ae. Once Byeong-hwa’s thoughts headed in this direction, the more jealous he grew and the more he wanted to follow through on his plan to soften Sang-hun up for money. Letting the keeper of the outer quarters enter ahead of him, Byeong-hwa went inside, but his coat was not hanging there. As though he were a policeman with a police warrant, he ordered the keeper to open the wardrobe, but it was locked. Disappointed, Byeong-hwa stood motionless, and his mind went blank.

Only then did the keeper ask, “What overcoat are you looking for?”

“Well, I left it here yesterday, but. ”

“The torn one?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” Byeong-hwa’s face lit up.

“Oh, the master gave it to the manservant earlier today.” He grinned.

“Manservant? The manservant?” Though chagrined, Byeong-hwa couldn’t help laughing, but that wasn’t going to get him his coat back. “That’s my only overcoat. And, frayed as it is, it is a treasure in my family, handed down for three generations. I can’t lose it. I came here to change into it. ” Byeong-hwa made excuses.

“Why don’t you keep what you’re wearing now? I don’t think my master will make you return it.” The good-natured keeper continued to grin and offered his opinion as if he were solving a thorny problem for Byeong-hwa.

“No, that’s not possible, though I’m embarrassed to say so.” Byeong-hwa didn’t think about saving face.

The keeper had been holding in a laugh, but now he guffawed. Moving to the edge of the veranda, he called out, “Hey! Won-sam!”

Instead of the manservant, his wife answered and after some time rattled open a door in the servants’ quarters. “Are you looking for him?” she asked. “He went out to the avenue.”

Thinking his efforts had been wasted, Byeong-hwa began to worry.

“Why don’t you go and fetch him?”

The woman went out as directed. Could the manservant by any chance have left the overcoat hanging in his room to save for special occasions? Then, Byeong-hwa thought, it would be better if he took it now, rather than snatching it away from him in person.

“If he has left it in his room, I’ll just take it.” Quickly slipping his feet into his shoes and dragging them along, Byeong-hwa ran to the servants’ quarters, though the keeper tried to stop him.

As Byeong-hwa emerged empty-handed, the manservant ambled in, clearing his throat. He looked warm, the collar of his overcoat pulled up, his head covered with a winter cap, and his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“Hey, take off that overcoat and give it to this gentleman,” said the keeper.

“What?” The manservant was stunned.

“Don’t ask me why. Just take it off and hand it over. The coat belongs to this gentleman.” The keeper chuckled as if making fun of both of them.

The manservant was reluctant. “But my master gave it to me.”

The keeper said, “But what are you doing with this coat anyway? Wearing it one day was more than enough for you.” He burst out laughing.

The manservant still wasn’t ready to hand it over. He looked himself up and down a few times and grunted in frustration. Finally, he tore it off and threw it at Byeong-hwa. “Take it!”

Byeong-hwa said, “I’m very sorry about doing this when it’s so cold. I’ll give it back to you in a few days when my situation improves.”

“No, I don’t want it,” the manservant grumbled. As he walked out with shoulders hunched, he muttered, “I’ll probably catch a cold now.”

Byeong-hwa slipped into the old coat, then put the new one on over it before strutting out. The keeper followed him to lock the gate. “Looks like you’re on your way to the pawn shop,” and again he laughed heartily.

About an hour later, Byeong-hwa made it to Bacchus. The proprietor was not pleased to see him, but Gyeong-ae, seated in a chair next to the stove, beamed at him.

“What have you been up to?” A trace of scolding could be heard in her voice.

“What do you mean by that?” Byeong-hwa answered casually, though he was pleased with her more familiar manner of speaking.

“Well. ” Gyeong-ae lowered her eyes. Byeong-hwa noticed she had been sitting dejectedly when he first walked in. He liked this Gyeong-ae much better than the one who talked and acted frivolously. Her demeanor today revealed more subtlety and depth.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Gyeong-ae said, coming out of her reverie. Byeong-hwa was warming himself by the fire next to her.

“Is something wrong?” Byeong-hwa asked, as he took out a cigarette and sat down.

Without answering, she touched the sleeve of Byeong-hwa’s torn overcoat, its long tattered pieces barely holding together.

“Did it get this torn the other day? How can you wear this thing?”

Byeong-hwa was pleased, for she sounded like a concerned poverty-stricken wife worrying about her husband’s clothes. What would have happened if I had come in the overcoat Sang-hun gave me? Even though she wouldn’t have known that Sang-hun was the source of the new coat, she probably would have ridiculed Byeong-hwa, believing that he had worn it to put on airs. Even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have offered such solicitous words.

“Doesn’t matter. Now I have a new overcoat thanks to it.” Animated, Byeong-hwa began to tell his story, but Gyeong-ae had to serve a group that was sitting quietly in a corner. It was almost nine o’clock, but because of the cold weather, only one group of Korean customers occupied a table. They did not make a lot of noise or many demands on Gyeong-ae, though they kept a watchful eye on her, probably because they were new to this bar or perhaps because they were trying to behave in line with the Western suits they were wearing.

Gyeong-ae poured some alcohol for the customers, but soon returned to Byeong-hwa.

“So what did you do with it? Why didn’t you wear it?” Gyeong-ae asked softly.

“I wore it for a day, but it didn’t suit me, so I used it to get the money to come here today.” Byeong-hwa laughed.

“Whose was it?”

“Whose was it? Think hard.” Byeong-hwa smiled and studied Gyeong-ae’s face triumphantly, anxiously awaiting her response.

“Did it belong to the man you came with?”

“Do you know who he is? It seemed that you knew each other, but why did you pretend that you’d never met him?”

“Well, I could say I know him, and at the same time I don’t know him. Did he say anything to you?”

“Not much, but. ”

Gyeong-ae didn’t want to tell Byeong-hwa about her past with Sang-hun, but this didn’t prevent her from admiring him for his frankness. Soberly looking back on the other night, she vaguely remembered kissing him and dancing with him, perhaps for the wrong reason yet without regret.

Byeong-hwa appeared personable enough at first glance, and she felt sympathy for him after Deok-gi told her that he was roaming around town after a clash with his father over a religious question.

As for Byeong-hwa, the main reason he felt so at ease with her was that she had kissed him. Although he suspected that she’d done it in the spirit of casual flirting or for some other purpose, he felt it rather odd that they had grown familiar enough to speak their minds.