Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

“Two ribs have been fractured. How did this happen? He looks very weak, and the broken ribs are right over his left lung.”

“Can we take him to your clinic?” Deok-gi asked, inching closer.

The room fell silent.

The doctor seemed to have gotten the answer to his question and said, “That would be helpful. But it would be better if I could take some X-rays first. Would you like me to call some people at the medical school nearby?”

“Please do everything in your power! As you see, it’s cramped here, and the situation is dire.”

Driven by Deok-gi’s decisiveness, the doctor left to make the necessary phone calls.

“It’s difficult to have X rays taken tonight, but we can at least take him to the hospital now. I can even operate if the situation warrants it. If we let him stay here, it’ll certainly. ” The doctor appeared genuinely concerned.

Once the doctor finished tending to the cuts on Byeong-hwa’s chin and on the back of his hand, they took Pil-sun’s father to the hospital. Though Deok-gi was young, he was now a thousand-rice-bag-a-year millionaire; his wealth made it impossible for the doctor to refuse him this favor.

Byeong-hwa wanted to accompany Pil-sun’s father to the hospital, but everyone was against the idea and insisted that he stay behind. His body hurt all over, and with Pil-sun and her mother also going to the hospital, he couldn’t leave Gyeong-ae behind by herself.

Deok-gi asserted, “I’ll go with them on your behalf. You should lie down.” Pil-sun and her mother nearly wept with gratitude. After everyone left in a taxi, Gyeong-ae took care of Byeong-hwa and prepared for her overnight stay. Now that all the commotion had passed, she realized for the first time that day how hungry she was. Pil-sun’s mother had brought in a dinner tray earlier, but no one had touched it. No one had felt like picking up their chopsticks after such a night.

“I wonder what’s going on at the hospital. I should call,” Byeong-hwa said.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call. Eat your stew before it gets cold.” Gyeong-ae stood up and walked toward the store, but Byeong-hwa held her back and went to the telephone himself. Gyeong-ae draped his overcoat over his shoulders and returned to put the stew on the brazier.

“They say he needs surgery right away. I’d better go.” Byeong-hwa lost his appetite.

“Is it that serious?”

“They say he’ll be all right after the operation, but how can I stay here when Deok-gi is staying there overnight? I should be there, too.”

“You’re right, but you’re in no shape to leave the house. And even if you do go, how will your presence help the operation?”

“Yeah, but this is no way to behave.”

“I’ll go in your stead if you feel that way. Nevertheless, the rest of them should eat something, especially when it’s so cold outside. Should we order something for them?”

“That sounds good, though they’re probably too worried to eat.”

Gyeong-ae went out to the store and called a soba restaurant. She then called the hospital and told Deok-gi that dinner would be arriving soon and that he should make sure that Pil-sun and her mother eat.

Byeong-hwa appreciated her efforts.

Gyeong-ae returned and sat across from Byeong-hwa with the meal tray between them. “He’s already in surgery, and it’ll be over in about thirty minutes. Deok-gi will come here when things calm down, so he says there’s no need for you to go out on a cold night like this.”

Tears gathered in Byeong-hwa’s eyes as he listened to her quietly. He was touched by everyone’s kindness and overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. He couldn’t bear to think of what Gyeong-ae had suffered because of him. Now she was comforting him and worrying about Pil-sun and her mother.

It had been less than ten days since Pil-sun’s family had escaped the hovel at the edge of Hyeonjeo-dong. Delighted over their unexpected good fortune, they no longer had to consider over breakfast whether they’d have something to eat come dinnertime. But their joy was short-lived. Pil-sun’s father was now hovering between life and death. Imagining what Pil-sun and her mother must be going through — their uncertainty and despair for the fate of the household — Byeong-hwa couldn’t help but weep for them. What about the man himself? Broken from years in prison, he had gone hungry day after day. Only recently had he begun to regain his confidence, learning the ins and outs of the grocery business, clinging to the hope that his wife and daughter wouldn’t have to go hungry again. Now he had been beaten to a pulp for no reason at all. Pity pulled at Byeong-hwa’s heart.

Deok-gi must have some worries of his own, now that he was the guardian of his family’s safe. That he would become involved in this unpleasant business that had nothing to do with him impressed Byeong-hwa greatly. The affection he felt was not simply sentimentalism in the wake of a crisis.

“Chiang Kai-shek is not a bad guy after all. Not bad at all. His true colors came out today.” Byeong-hwa muttered to himself as he picked up his chopsticks.

Gyeong-ae stared at him in bewilderment. Had he lost his mind? “What are you talking about? What about Chiang Kai-shek?”

Byeong-hwa laughed and said, “You don’t know Chiang Kai-shek?”

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?”

“Chiang Kai-shek, who has given us such a hard time. You know, Jang Hun.”

“So that guy is Jang Hun? You’re calling him Chiang Kai-shek?” The two were complicit again. The leader of the aggressors had a “Jang” in his name, a Chinese character rare among Korean surnames, so the nickname Chiang Kai-shek caught on.

“Well, what about him?”

“He’s more considerate than he looks,” Byeong-hwa said as he began to eat his rice.

“Oh? What makes you think so?”

“We’ve been taken in by his tricks.” Byeong-hwa was now shoveling food into his mouth. He told Gyeong-ae, who hadn’t touched her chopsticks, to eat, while he continued devouring the food set before him.

“Slow down. Talk to me while you eat. You’ll give yourself a stomachache, eating so fast. Go on with your story.”

“Huh?”

“About that Chiang Kai-shek or Jang Hun.”

“I’ve said enough.”

“Are you making fun of me? If you can’t talk about it, why did you bring it up in the first place?” It annoyed her that Byeong-hwa still didn’t trust her.

Byeong-hwa sat smoking and then stretched out to rest. One of his arms throbbed with a dull pain, and his swollen hand was tingling.

“You don’t trust me because I’m a woman. How old-fashioned and feudal! It’s not that I’m dying to know, but after all I’ve gone through, I have the right to know. It’d be different if it had nothing to do with me.” Pouting, Gyeong-ae pulled a Haetae cigarette from her pocket and lit it over the brazier.

Someone rapped on the front door. “Do you have any cigarettes?” A man’s voice.

“Which brand?” Gyeong-ae shouted as she lifted the small bolt from the door. The tiny door flung open, a cold wind swept in, and a man clad in a Korean coat entered, ducking his head under the low doorframe.

Her hair stood up on end as she took a step back and stifled a shriek. This cheerful man was none other than the bastard who had given her such a hard time at the Chinese restaurant earlier. Chiang Kai-shek.

A dingy scarf was tied over the black overcoat, and by the way his Korean socks were pulled up over his trousers’ ankle ties, he looked like a police inspector in disguise.

Still wearing a mocking smile, he signaled toward the room with his chin.

“Is Kim in?” He seemed eager to invite himself in.