Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

“His sister sent a telegram earlier today,” offered Deok-gi’s wife.

“Why?” The old man’s sunken eyes bulged.

The Suwon woman, sitting next to the old man, came forward to offer her opinion. “He didn’t take our messages seriously, but he managed to get off his ass as soon as he got his sister’s telegram.”

“Who told Deok-hui to send a telegram?” The grandfather’s tone revealed his displeasure.

“I was so frustrated that I told her to try reaching him one more time,” said Deok-gi’s wife.

“I’m glad to hear he’s coming, but why did he think of coming only when he got a telegram sent by his sister?”

There was a simple explanation, but in the old man’s eyes it was not so simple.

“Did we use the wrong address? Did he move to a new boardinghouse?”

“No. He is still at the same place.”

“Then what was the matter? He couldn’t have gone anywhere because he was busy with exams. Did you tell him to come home only when he hears from you?” The old man was losing his temper.

“That’s not possible,” Deok-gi’s wife said, offering her opinion. “Other telegrams must not have reached him because of a wrong address or something.”

This sounded plausible, but the old man was not willing to brush off the matter. “If the telegrams didn’t arrive, they should have been returned, right? Oh, never mind. We’ll find out when he gets here.”

Deok-gi’s mother and wife were more eager to get to the bottom of the matter than the old man was.

The following evening, Deok-gi sent a telegram from Busan. Though he had ignored previous summons, he now inquired about his grandfather’s condition. The old man was pleased that his grandson sounded quite anxious.

Deok-gi arrived at daybreak.

Chang-hun and Secretary Chi went to the train station to meet him. Deok-gi was relieved to learn that his grandfather’s condition was stable.

When Chang-hun heard that Deok-gi hadn’t received any telegrams except for Deok-hui’s the day before, he bristled and assumed that Deok-gi was lying.

Deok-gi said, “That’s very strange, but how would I know what happened? It’s probably because you wrote the address in your clumsy Japanese.” He laughed it off, suspecting nothing.

In a taxi on the way home, Chang-hun said, “Look, if your grandfather asks, simply tell him you did get the telegrams. He’ll scold us for being unable to do something as simple as send a wire. Tell him that you happened to read the telegrams after a school trip, and you were about to leave when you received Deok-hui’s. Or something like that. You wouldn’t believe the abuse we’ve taken because of all this. ”

“Don’t worry, and thank you for your efforts. It’s good to hear that he’s not any worse off, so we shouldn’t squander this opportunity to find good medicine for him.” Deok-gi was displeased that Chang-hun was harping about the telegrams instead of talking about his grandfather’s illness.

As Deok-gi entered the sickroom, his grandfather wished to sit up. He was supported from the back and the front while receiving his grandson’s bow. His back had gotten a little better, and he could move a bit. It was the superstition that only the dead receive bows lying down that had forced him to sit up. He shuddered whenever he heard the word dead, as if the messenger of death were standing in front of him.

A smile danced across the old man’s mouth, but his bleary sunken eyes contained anger and suspicion.

“If you’re a human being. how could you not.?” The old man had to catch his breath three or four times to utter this phrase. By the time he could lie down again, he looked exhausted.

Deok-gi was happy to see that his grandfather’s back was better and that he could sit up, but he had to avert his eyes from his grandfather’s face as the old man lay down. He wondered how his grandfather’s face, which used to glow with health, could have changed so much in less than a month. He looked seriously ill. The unhealthy color permeated his skin, and his face was sallow with thick, dark patches here and there. He looked as if he had been devastated after several years of internal ailments.

“You didn’t even write a letter when we made such a racket, sending off one telegram after another. Were you dead? Or didn’t you have thirty jeon?” Those listening to him were in agony, watching the old man pant as he tried to push his words out through gurgling phlegm.

“I didn’t get the telegrams.”

“What do you mean? Then how did you find the money to come home?”

“I borrowed it from my landlord.” Deok-gi was about to continue, but he switched his story after noticing Chang-hun’s frantic eye signals.

“I had been away skiing, but when I got back, I received all the telegrams together and left again at once.” Deok-gi had been on the verge of telling the truth, for he didn’t like Chang-hun and didn’t want to deceive his grandfather with poor excuses. Prompted by Chang-hun’s eyes, though, he changed his mind, thinking his grandfather would be worse off if his agitation increased.

“What is skiing?”

“It is sliding on the ice from the top of a mountain.”

“Sliding on the ice on a mountain? Not in a river?”

“In Japan, it’s on mountains.”

“Japan or Korea, sliding on the ice must be the same. Stop it. I don’t want to listen to such bare lies.”

“So you didn’t take exams but went sliding on the ice instead?” Chang-hun said provocatively, and the Suwon woman concurred with a sneer.

They were glad to see that the grandfather regarded Deok-gi’s excuses as lies. Deok-gi wanted to pour out the truth, regardless of what would ensue. Hadn’t he made up the story to help Chang-hun? How, then, could Chang-hun make such tactless remarks instead of supporting him? He refrained from lashing out, though, thinking it better not to make a scene.

“So what did you do with the money sent with the telegram?”

“I didn’t get it.” He could have made up a story, like he gave it to the landlord because he thought it was part of the money intended for his studies abroad, but soon asked the landlord to return some of it. But now he stuck to the truth, for he was annoyed.

“Why was that? Did you really send it?” the grandfather asked Chang-hun.

“Of course. I have the receipt. I forgot to give it to you, sir.” Chang-hun took out his wallet and rummaged through it for a good while. “I must have left it at home. I couldn’t send the money myself, so I asked my eldest to take care of it. Where else could it have gone if we have the receipt?”

“Then bring it to me later today.” The old man wasn’t satisfied unless he supervised everything himself. Already frustrated about having to stay in bed this long, he felt worse when he realized everything was going wrong.

“As long as you have a receipt, you can get the money back later. We’ll be able to find out what went wrong,” said Deok-gi, hoping to calm his grandfather.

The old man was even more irritated now; Deok-gi seemed to be hiding something. The grandfather managed to contain his anger, though, for Deok-gi was his beloved grandson, and he had come a long way.

Deok-gi stayed home all day with a splitting headache. Something strange was in the air. He felt infected by the mood, which was rife with jealousy and suspicion. Agitation was visible on everyone’s face. His family had never exchanged frank opinions or laughed together and had never carried on conversations wearing placid expressions; yet this menacing pressure hanging heavily in the house was new. There’s a saying that crows caw on the eve of someone’s death. Was it because the dark spirit of death had risen up — was his grandfather really going to die? Was everyone gloomy because the family elder was in such bad shape? That couldn’t be the case, for no loyal wife or daughters-in-law could be found in attendance. A huge storm must have rolled in while he was away. Was it because he had taken so long to come home? If so, Chang-hun was at fault. Why didn’t the telegrams, allegedly sent on three occasions, reach him? Where had the money gone?