Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

Wondering if Deok-gi would come, she began to watch the people approaching the hospital. He had called the store earlier that morning, inquiring after Pil-sun’s father. He promised to stop by the hospital later.

I’m not going to wait for him. If he comes, I wouldn’t know what to do. Pil-sun made excuses to herself and tried to shake off the thought of him. Deok-gi’s sister came to mind. Though Pil-sun had never seen her, she imagined that she was a pretty girl who dressed in finery and who whirled around her big house, giggling happily.

Some people have no worries. Ashamed of having such a thought, Pil-sun tried to push it away. She could hear her father and Byeong-hwa chastising her. She turned around suddenly, thinking she had heard her father’s voice. But when she silently pushed the door open, she could see her father sleeping in the bed by the window. The other patients turned their pale countenences toward her. Gently, she closed the door and returned to her post.

The hospital stay costs three won a day, which comes to ninety won a month. We make only five won a day at the shop, perhaps because we’ve just started, and we depend on the store for our living. After paying the hospital bill, we may even go through all that we have.

Pil-sun tormented herself with these worries. Also she couldn’t bear to see her father lying under nothing but a dingy, paper-thin sheet with which he had covered himself three winters in a row. Her cheeks burned, imagining what others might think of the grimy sheet. At the hospital, they talked about providing a blanket but claimed it hadn’t yet been returned from the wash. The other patients in the room had been placed in better beds, while her father was exposed to a draft from the window. Byeong-hwa had offered his own quilt in the morning, but that seemed out of the question. Pil-sun didn’t have the heart to soil his new Japanese quilt that he had recently bought to sleep on the tatami floor at the store. What would he cover himself with at night?

She worked herself into a frenzy, until she could picture herself following a funeral bier. But then, from out of the blur came a familiar Western suit, about to cross Jongchinbu Bridge stretching out below her.

Managing to compose herself as blood rushed to her head, Pil-sun wiped away her tears. Deok-gi had already crossed the bridge. How delightful it would be if she could open the window and welcome him with a graceful wave. Pil-sun swallowed her excitement; her pride wouldn’t allow it. She fully understood the tacit constraints of her position. His education, wealth, and class were vastly different from hers, and she would appear a flirtatious, loose woman if she weren’t careful. But nevertheless, she was simply happy to see him. He was so elegant and pleasing to look at. Whenever a welcoming, joyful smile bloomed from her eyes and mouth, however, she did her best to disguise it. Her hidden joy would linger like fog hanging low on a cloudy day.

When Deok-gi reached the hospital gate, he caught sight of Pil-sun and smiled. She returned the smile and withdrew from the window.

Pil-sun met Deok-gi at the front door. The rattle of a bicycle being parked outside made them notice Won-sam. “Master! You walked over so fast.” He bowed and brought over a bulky package.

Deok-gi thanked him. Pil-sun hurriedly intercepted it, preventing him from carrying the bundle himself.

Holding a fruit basket in one hand and a pale brown blanket, tied with a leather strap like a traveler’s pack, in the other, she blushed and said, “You’re so generous.”

“Miss, I’m running two errands today — as a deliveryman for Sanhaejin and as the master’s servant.” Won-sam laughed as he turned away.

“You should take a break to thaw yourself out. Are you returning to the store?” Pil-sun called after Won-sam.

“It’s all right. I’d better hurry back. Your mother says she’ll be here soon, so I expect you’ll come afterward, right?” Won-sam jumped on his bicycle and pedaled away powerfully. Deok-gi and Pil-sun watched him go, exchanging glances and smiling.

“I see that he’s good-hearted, though I’ve known him only a few days.”

“If he’s useful, why don’t you keep him as a helper?”

“I don’t know whether he wants to or if the Hwagae-dong family will let him.”

“It can be arranged one way or another.” They walked down the long corridor together. “That blanket, you won’t mind? It was my grandfather’s. He wasn’t covered with it when he died, though.”

“Of course not. I don’t know how to express my gratitude for your constant — ”

“Please don’t mention it. Your father looked so cold yesterday. But some people don’t like using things that belonged to the dead.”

“Do only the living use hospital beds and quilts? I’ll cover my father with it, but you really didn’t have to. ” Pil-sun was so moved that her throat tightened and she couldn’t finish her sentence.

When she spread the blanket over her father, he seemed pleased but was too weak to express his thanks.

Deok-gi sat briefly by the bed before beckoning Pil-sun to the corridor. Deok-gi lit a cigarette and spoke slowly. “You haven’t heard from Kim, have you?”

“Not yet. Why? Has something happened?”

“They searched the house a while ago.”

“What? The store?”

“They were looking for Gyeong-ae. She had gone out to take a bath, but your mother told them that she had gone home. Someone is still waiting there. Won-sam was waiting outside when I got there and told me what was going on, and your mother gave me a signal with her eyes, so I pretended that I was a costumer and bought some fruit. Otherwise, I don’t know how long I would have been detained.”

“Then my mother can’t come, can she?” Pil-sun was anxious about what would happen at the hospital if she went home and was held there, and her mother was not allowed to leave, either. She still couldn’t entrust the store to her mother, who knew only that a pack of Pigeons was ten jeon and Maekos five jeon. She didn’t even know how much she should ask for Haetaes.

“Shall I go and make a phone call?”

“To ask your mother to come?”

“I can’t leave here until she arrives,” said Pil-sun as she headed downstairs. After a while, she came back accompanied by a man in a Western suit. Deok-gi immediately understood the nature of the visit.

Pil-sun seemed flustered; she shot a quick warning glance to Deok-gi.

Studying the stranger’s face, Deok-gi could see that the man wasn’t there to take Pil-sun away, but his heart was still pounding.

The man doffed his hat and said, “You must be Mr. Jo Deok-gi.” He grinned unpleasantly while remaining perfectly polite.

Whatever the detective inwardly thought of Deok-gi, he bowed deeply, though to his seasoned eye, Deok-gi, clad in a student uniform with gold buttons, couldn’t possibly amount to much; yet, he was the Jo family heir.

“I was told that you’d be here. I’m sorry, but will you please come with me?”

“What is this all about? Is it because I gave Kim Byeong-hwa some money?” Deok-gi laughed and added, “Let’s go. But why make life difficult for someone who’s trying to clean up his act and support himself?”

“I don’t think this is anything serious. We just need to get some information because a few guys are making some noise.” The detective had underestimated Deok-gi — the young man was unexpectedly firm and confident.

Pil-sun handed Deok-gi’s hat to him, whispering, “They’ve taken Gyeong-ae. The detectives are still there.”

Several of them must be surrounding the store, Deok-gi thought. The news gave Deok-gi a jolt.

“Can you stay here? Did your mother say she’d come?” Deok-gi asked as he followed the detective out.