Vertigo Kim Se-hee Translated by Brother Anthony of
Taizé
Published in Koreana: Korean
Culture & Arts (The Korea Foundation) Vol.
34, No. 4 Winter 2020, pages
92-103.
(Text in PDF
format) (Critical
Introduction)
1 Won-hee
had worked at the bank at the crossroads until the
previous
June. She walked to work and every Friday she bought
flowers on her way home.
The flowers she bought – sometimes a small bunch of
hydrangeas, sometimes a
single sunflower – she placed in a plain glass vase
which she put on the table.
It was her own private ritual that set the weekend
apart from other days and
made it fragrant. Even
after she stopped going to work, she did not give
up buying flowers on Friday afternoons. On one
occasion, Sang-ryul pointed out
her changed circumstances and mentioned the
extravagant habit that recurred
every week. Then she said: “But
flowers are so beautiful. I need something
beautiful.” Now
she was attending an academy and learning
semi-permanent makeup. She loved it and her hands were
fast. But money was a
problem. Her savings had soon run out. She didn’t know
how long she would have
to wait before receiving her license and getting a
job. To save money on lunch,
she carried a lunch box that left a smell of food in
her bag. Today,
too, she bought flowers at the store in front
of the bus stop. It was the first Friday of January.
When she got home, the
lights were off and Sang-ryul was not there. It seemed
that he was late leaving
work. She poured water into the vase, put in three
pale pink tulips, and placed
it on the table. She wiped her wet hands on an apron
she had thrown over a
chair. Then she glanced around the quiet house. It
felt strange to think that she
would soon be moving out. They were supposed to visit
the real estate agent tomorrow
morning. It gave her a headache. Sang-ryul’s
insistence on moving to a place with two
rooms was reasonable. He went to bed at 10 p.m. and
desperately needed quality
sleep. But 10 p.m. was too early for Won-hee. One
evening, when she thought he was asleep, he suddenly
jumped up, pulled off his sleep mask, and said in a
low voice: “I
can’t live like this anymore.” He
said he had put up with it as long as he could, but
he could not bear living in a one-room studio any
longer. He said it should be possible
for one of them to stay up late if they wanted, while
the other one slept
quietly in the other room, and in the morning, when
one was still sleeping, for
the other to clatter about making breakfast. This
upset Won-hee a bit for she
took it to mean that he didn’t love her as much as
before, but she didn’t say so.
If she had said that, he would have been angry. Or he
would have sighed and
told her not to be stupid. So they went around looking
at places, and finally
the kind of thing he wanted came up. They found it
after several weeks spent visiting
different real estate agents. As soon as the broker
opened the door, Sang-ryul couldn’t
hide his excitement. “This
is good, isn’t it?” It
had a small room, a kitchen and a large room, all
lined
up like a train. It wasn’t very bright. The sun came
into the big room, but even
at 2 p.m. the kitchen and small room were dark. A
bigger problem was that it had
no furnishings. They would even have to buy a gas
range. Still, it was a place
where the space was divided as Sang-ryul wanted, and
in many ways, it was the
best that could be found in their circumstances. That
seemed clear to her, too.
Sang-ryul said that he would bear the cost of buying
furniture. She could no
longer object. How could she object? To Sang-ryul, who
said they needed to move,
how could she say, “I like it the way we are now,” or
“It’s because of my
mother.” Even she found it unconvincing. Besides, it
sounded presumptuous.
Because of her mother? Her mother didn’t understand
the way they lived and had
no influence on their lives. They
turned off the light early and lay down. However,
Won-hee didn’t fall asleep. Her mother’s voice rang in
her ears. She had called
that morning. It wasn’t the usual time for her mother
to call. “Won-hee,
I had a dream, that you were up on a rock.” Her
mother’s voice was trembling, full of anxiety. A
phone call from her at that time of day never brought
good news. Won-hee closed
her eyes and breathed in, suppressing her irritation. “You
were up on some mountain. Maybe Mt. Yangeul? The
rock was shaking and dangerous, but you didn’t know,
you were standing on it
and smiling as you looked at me. You didn’t even know
it was dangerous, you
were very excited and smiling. I was trying to tell
you to be careful, to come
down from there quickly, but strangely enough I
couldn’t say a word. I was
panicking, unable to say a word, I struggled, then I
woke up. Is something
wrong with you? Where are you now?” Her
mother’s anxiety passed through the handset and
flowed into her blood. Won-hee repressed her emotions.
She mustn’t show any signs
of agitation. “Mom,
it’s not because something has happened to me that
you dream that kind of dream, it’s because you think
something is going to
happen to me.” “You
think so?” Her
mother replied, sounding unconvinced. “I’m
sure of it.” “That’s
good, then…” “It
is. Please don’t worry about me.” Sang-ryul
was asleep beside her, breathing evenly. She
was lying in the dark listening to the sound. My thoughts are so complicated, yet this guy
is sleeping so well.
Sang-ryul made her feel resentful. Should she make the
effort to move house? If
she moved, her mom would come to see, but how would
she explain living in such
a spacious place all by herself? Hard-pressed after
quitting her job, why and
with what money had she moved somewhere bigger? Her
family didn’t know she was
living with Sang-ryul. It gave her a headache just to
think about it. It was
beyond the scope of the misfortunes her mother could
imagine. Living with a man
without getting married! But that wasn’t the only
thing her mom didn’t know. The
price she had to pay for living with Sang-ryul was
more than he could imagine. However, she had never
been able to properly
explain her feelings to him. Rather, at some point she
had begun to conceal her
suffering. She didn’t want him to feel guilty. It
wasn’t necessary. “I am an
adult,” she kept telling herself. But she knew what it
meant to her mother. The
very thought left her feeling drained. Just to think
about it, while walking
down the street or when putting eyelashes on the face
of an indifferent
mannequin, sapped the strength out of her. Once she
had tried to explain it to
Sang-ryul. Then, Sang-ryul had said: “Let’s
go see your parents and tell them. They’ll
understand. In this situation, what else can we do?
How do your parents think you’re
paying the rent anyway?” He
wasn’t wrong. They should explain the situation and
seek her parents’ understanding. It was the right and
proper way. Obviously, that
was why she loved Sang-ryul. His reasonable thinking,
his ability to look at
things objectively. However, her family were by no
means people capable of
judging things by rational thinking. They didn’t know
how to look at or admit
their situation objectively. If Sang-ryul believed
things could be solved that
way, it was because he didn’t know anything about her
family. What moved her
family were the beliefs, taboos and strong sense of
reputation shared by their group.
These were entangled and indistinguishable, creating
everyday fears. Fear of
life. She had long been struggling to get away from
the vague fear and horror
that were holding her mother captive, and had never
been able to explain to Sang-ryul
properly that her whole life was a process of trying
to escape from that. It
had started when she came to Seoul. How she’d had to
fight for that. Leaving her mother, her heart ached.
But on the first evening,
as she left the dormitory to go to the convenience
store and crossed the wide-open
campus, she reckoned it had been worth it. Until then,
she had never gone out in
the evening without a reason. As
the cost of breathing the night air that made her
heart tremble with excitement, her mother went to dawn
prayers at her church
every morning. In the meantime, if she didn’t answer
the phone once, in her mother’s
imagination, she was being taken to the hospital in a
race against time after a
car accident, or had died after something even worse. “How
evil and terrifying the world is,” her mother
would say. When
she finally answered the phone, her mother would
be crying. Such incidents drove her crazy. After
establishing that her daughter
was safe, her mother became extremely angry, but when
she realized that her
daughter was even more angry, she grew confused and
hesitant. Her mom used to
say: “It’s
because I worry about you, because I think of
you. You don’t realize what the world is like.” On
her summer break in her final year of school, she
went backpacking in Europe on her own. Once, midway
through, in a guesthouse in
Barcelona, she called home when there was nobody
around. Her mother cried,
telling her not to go wandering around. “Mom,
I’m traveling. Why would I have come to Europe
if I didn’t mean to go wandering outside?” She
laughed as she spoke, but she nearly wept. In
fact, she didn’t enjoy traveling and didn’t really
want to be there. But she
woke up early each morning and doggedly kept wandering
around until sunset. She
wanted to prove to herself that she could go wherever
she wanted, and that
nothing would happen, and that there was no power in
sinister premonitions or
dreams. Yet ultimately, she also had such fears inside
herself. In the end, she
didn’t enjoy the trip, but she didn’t die, either. 2 The
next day, they went to the real estate agent’s in
front of the
subway station. The broker welcomed Sang-ryul and
Won-hee. She was a woman in
her mid-thirties, with long hair tied back tightly,
revealing a round head like
a ping pong ball. She seemed gloomy, so Won-hee didn’t
like her at first.
However, after spending half a day visiting houses
together, she realized that
she was a very meticulous and competent broker. They
had to go through another agency to sign the contract
for the house. The broker called the agency before
leaving. Previously, too,
when they had viewed the house, she had called them
first. She said that the
broker at Bokji Real Estate – that was its name –
looked as old as the exterior
of the office and equally old-fashioned; she said that
the woman had been there
for twenty years and had been doing business with the
deceased landlord for
that length of time. “Please
write the contract in advance. Don’t wait for
us to arrive before you start writing. Okay? Am I
being clear?” The
broker spoke on the phone while half out of her
seat, and her voice was so curt that it sounded rude.
Won-hee and Sang-ryul sat
side by side on the sofa. The manager was standing
next to the water purifier,
drinking coffee from a paper cup and looking at them
with a cheerful
expression. The manager, who looked to be in her late
forties, said casually: “That
old woman can’t use a computer.” After
hanging up the phone, the broker picked up her
cell phone and a thick notebook, remarking: “They
must be the only people left that don’t use
computers.” “Did
she say she’d write the contract?” The
manager asked. “She
said she would, we’ll find out when we get
there.” She
laughed testily. “Chief,
are you going out now? Please drop us off at the
Bokji office on the way.” “Okay,
okay.” The
manager picked up the car key. Sang-ryul and Won-hee
followed her as she headed to the door. “Wait
a minute. I haven’t had my coffee yet.” The
broker put her notebook under her arm, turned to
the water purifier by the door, and quickly made
herself a coffee. Sang-ryul
and Won-hee got into the back seat of the manager’s
car and watched the broker come
hurrying out holding a paper cup. “Oh,
damn it,” She
cursed as she sat down in the passenger seat. She
seemed to have spilled some. “You
can have another when we get there,” Won-hee
said, as if concerned. The
broker looked at her in the mirror and said: “We
brokers never drink other real estate agents’
coffee.” “Of
course.” As
the manager drove, they bantered merrily. “Never
do that.” “Ah,
I guess you have your ways,” Sang-ryul chimed in. “Of
course. Take note when you’re going around. Is
there a weakling of a broker who would go to another
estate agent’s office and
drink coffee?” “But
is there even a water purifier in the Bokji
office?” The
broker asked, as if the thought suddenly struck
her. “Chief,
have you seen a water purifier there?” “No
idea. Probably not.” The
manager dropped them off at the crossroads. They
went into the real estate agent’s next to a
supermarket. As the broker
aggressively opened the door, instead of a greeting,
she asked curtly: “You’ve
written the contract, right?” “Come
on in.” The
elderly broker sat bolt upright at her desk and
greeted them with a smile. They had already noticed it
before; her kindly smile
and relaxed attitude could not be shaken by anything.
The old lady looked benevolently
at the younger broker, who was thirty or forty years
her junior, as if she were
a little puppy barking fiercely. Even when her mouth
wasn’t smiling, her eyes
were arched behind her steel-framed glasses. There was
an old-fashioned cabinet
behind the glass-covered desk, and the bookcase was
full of faded yellow
envelopes. “I
wrote it, of course I wrote it.” Their
broker picked up the document and smiled faintly.
It was a sheet of paper on which lines had been drawn
and the text written with
a ballpoint pen. The place where Sang-ryul and Won-hee
were to live was a
three-story red brick building that had been built
nearly twenty years earlier.
It was the only property of a couple who had bought it
with the money they had
saved all their lives, to provide an income that would
support them in their
later years. The old owner would only take 300,000 won
per month. He said that
if they asked for more, young people would never be
able to save money and buy
their own home, the elderly broker explained. “He
was a wonderful person, that old man.” As
if grieving, she looked upward for a moment and
murmured
quietly. In the summer two years ago, the old man had
passed away. The elderly
widow had handed over the building and tenant
management to her eldest son.
However, the eldest son had lowered the deposit and
raised the monthly rent to
500,000 won without his mother’s knowledge, but the
old lady eventually found it
out. So far, their broker had been watching the older
broker irritably, but she
calmly ignored the signal by not giving a glance in
her direction. Her attitude
didn’t change, as if she thought it was her mission as
a broker to tell new
tenants the history of the building. Eventually,
the family of the third son moved into the
fourth floor where the old couple had lived. The
elderly owner went down to the
first floor. The old person living in unit 101, the
closest to the entrance,
was the owner. “From
the beginning, the owners trusted the third son
the most. The third son has good character and knows
how to operate machines.” “Oh.”
It
was lucky for them, in any case, because the rent
was cheap. Just then, the door opened and a
middle-aged couple entered the office.
They bowed deeply to the elderly broker, as if to a
senior relative, then
turned to Sang-ryul and Won-hee. They were the third
son and his wife. “I
clearly told her the appointment was Saturday, but
it looks like my mother has gone to the bathhouse.” They
were very embarrassed. “Oh,
she must have gone for a bath.” The
old broker clacked her tongue. “Yes,
I told her yesterday, but she must have
forgotten. We should have brought her with us. If
you’d like, you can meet her later...” They
looked at Sang-ryul and Won-hee alternately as if
they had made a big mistake and didn’t know what to
do. Sang-ryul and Won-hee
said it was okay. “Yes,
it’s okay even if your mother isn’t here. It’s
her son who will be signing anyway.” The
elderly broker introduced Sang-ryul and Won-hee to
the couple. “You
know I don’t take on just any one. How could I
look your mother in the face if took on someone
suspicious and the rent ended
up overdue? How could I? Absolutely not. These two
people have passed my
face-reading test. I can see that they are
straightforward people who won’t be
late with the rent but will pay on time.” The
couple smiled and nodded as if to show they
agreed. Won-hee suddenly couldn’t raise her head. A
little while before, the scene had begun to feel
uncomfortable. Moreover, the broker’s words no longer
reached her ears. She
felt as if she were growing smaller, losing herself.
It was a feeling from long
ago, but she didn’t know what to do because it came as
a surprise. She felt
helpless, as if she had become a child. Sometimes this
happened in front of an important
adult. When standing in front of faultless people from
a good background who
had been raised with a good education. She foresaw
that a question would soon
arise, and she tried to prepare her own expression and
feelings beforehand. Won-hee
watched the thick hand – good at repairing
things – of the third son signing the contract. He
held a ballpoint pen and
wrote his name. Kang Jun-mo. Great strength could be
sensed in the hand holding
the pen. Sang-ryul also looked impressed by the hand.
Finally, the elderly
broker put two copies of the contract side by side on
the glass-covered table
and asked Sang-ryul to sign them. After
completing all the procedures, she asked
politely: “But
how do you two… Are you newlyweds?” Sang-ryul
put down the pen and raised his head. At
that moment, Won-hee replied. “Yes.
We’re newlyweds.” Sang-ryul
looked at her. Their broker, who was sitting
on a round chair to one side, looked at Sang-ryul and
Won-hee. She hadn’t asked
them anything like that. After
leaving Bokji Real Estate, they parted from their
broker. They took a bus and got off four stops later.
Sang-ryul said nothing of
what had happened shortly before. He didn’t ask why
she had responded that way,
and he didn’t seem to care. Sang-ryul wasn’t the kind
of person to keep such
trivial things – it had clearly been trivial to him –
in mind. He probably
thought such questions could be answered any way that
seemed fit. Maybe he had already
forgotten about it. There
was a store dealing in second-hand appliances
and furniture just a short way in from the main
street. It was a place they had
checked out beforehand. The store consisted of a first
floor and a basement,
but the home appliances were in the basement. A
middle-aged woman wearing a
scarf with a money-belt round her waist led the way
down a steep staircase into
the basement. Unlike the first floor, which was so
bright and cozy that you
wouldn’t know it was a second-hand shop unless you saw
the signboard, the
basement was cold and dark. On the bleak cement floor,
larger household
appliances were placed at widely spaced intervals. Still,
it had seemed okay when they first took a look.
The items had seemed clean. However, on examining each
one in detail, it was a
little different. The newer and cleaner items were
already marked as sold, whether
washing machines or refrigerators. Others were old or
stained, each one flawed
in some way. It seemed they were a bit too late. The
store’s owner was standing to one side so they
could look around. She gave the necessary
explanations, but her tone was slightly
rough. “We
need a washing machine, a refrigerator and a gas
range,”
Sang-ryul said. The
owner and Sang-ryul stood talking in front of an
old-style drum washer. Sang-ryul looked at Won-hee,
indicating that he wanted her
to participate, but she did not get involved. Won-hee
walked away from them and wandered among the
home appliances. Her mood quickly grew subdued. Each
washing machine and
refrigerator had its own story. Like the animals in a
shelter. What kind of
place did they live in and what kind of people did
they live with before finding
themselves here? She realized that she had thought too
lightly of this
situation. Or rather, actually, she hadn’t thought
about it at all. She was so
preoccupied with her mother that she couldn’t think
about the things needed to
fill the new house. Sang-ryul had noticed this store,
and she had agreed
without thinking. But the moment she saw it for
herself, she felt it would not
do. She couldn’t cope with this cement floor and the
discolored items with
dents and stains here and there. As
if reading Won-hee’s feelings, the owner said: “This
came from a very high-class house in
Yeonhui-dong. We went in to collect it, the standard
of the household items was
amazing. Nowadays, this kind of 14-kilogram drum
washing machine is only used by
the wealthiest families. It’s more convenient to buy a
larger one while you’re
at it. You can even wash bedding.” Won-hee
realized that the owner considered them to be
newlyweds, but this time it made her feel ashamed. She
could sense how they
looked in the eyes of the owner. Here’s a
newlywed couple, but they don’t have the wherewithal
to set up house properly,
so they’re looking at used appliances in this dark
basement. That was what
they looked like. “Let’s
talk a minute.” She
pulled at the sleeve of Sang-ryul’s coat. Sang-ryul
looked confused. She gazed into his eyes with an
appealing look. “We’ll
just step outside for a moment,” Sang-ryul told
the owner. Won-hee
did not look in the woman’s direction as they
went out. They climbed the steep stairs. Won-hee took
the lead, crossing
between the beds and the tables on the first floor,
pushing the glass door open
and going out onto the sidewalk. It was darker than
when they had come in, and
cars were speeding along the four-lane highway.
Sang-ryul followed her out and
asked: “What’s
wrong?” Won-hee
knew she had to say the right thing now, but she
couldn’t think of anything to say. She was speechless.
Won’t Sang-ryul know what I feel? But
his mouth was clamped shut.
It wasn’t easy for him either, signing the contract
for a house, finding a second-hand
store and bargaining with the owner. “Can’t
we come back another time?” Won-hee
barely managed to blurt out. “What
are you talking about? We have to buy the things
today. Otherwise, I don’t know when I’ll be able to
make time again.” He
was clearly annoyed by the situation. “I
don’t think I want to do this.” “What
do you mean? Don’t you like the stuff? It looks okay
to me. The quality isn’t too bad.” “It
all looks so crappy.” Sang-ryul
burst out laughing with an effort. “What
does it matter so long as it works properly?” “You
mean you want to use up all your savings buying these
heavy, crappy things? You can’t just throw them away
if you don’t like them, this
pack of things that, once you buy them, you’re going
to have to use for at least
three years? Are we really doing the right thing?” “What
are you talking about all of a sudden?” he said,
controlling his expression. “Don’t you know we already
signed the contract? Don’t
be so childish.” He
strode back inside on his own. The glass door
opened and closed again, shaking on the recoil. The
proprietor had come upstairs. “The
gas range is here.” The
woman glanced at Won-hee as she reluctantly came
back in, and went on talking, as if unconcerned with
their circumstances. “This
is the only gas range I have. If you want one, this
will have to do. I didn’t have any, but then this came
in just yesterday. I
guess it was destined to be yours.” Even
from a distance the gas range looked black. It didn’t
seem to have been used indoors. “I
have the gas pipe here.” The
owner picked up a plastic bag holding the
accessories. “It’s
expensive to buy these separately. That’s why I
took great care of it.” Sang-ryul
said he would take it and she remarked: “You’ll
have to wipe it down before you use it.” They
went downstairs again, and Sang-ryul consulted
with the owner about choosing a refrigerator and
washing machine. At the end,
when he tried to knock down the price, Sang-ryul was
put to shame. The owner
said that she had been in business there for eight
years. “The
price on the label is the price of the product. We
don’t play games with our items.” 3 On
the bus back, they each found an empty seat and sat
apart. Won-hee was
looking out the window, but she wasn’t looking at the
landscape as it grew darker
outside. There are
times when vertigo occurs, times when you
have to accept reality, when a scene that has not
yet been accepted, and has
not yet been recognized, suddenly appears plainly as
if a light has been turned
on, and you want to close your eyes and turn your
head away, but even that isn’t
allowed. Now was just such a time. Won-hee
perceived
what she intended to do with Sang-ryul. They were
forming a household. It was
no different from being married. They had gotten a
house, and now they were
going around buying home appliances to furnish it
with. It meant marriage. This
move wasn’t an extension of their previous life. It
wasn’t just moving to a
house with an extra room. She
felt she was being pushed onto an unprepared
stage, and something inside her was stubbornly
refusing, saying, “No, this
isn’t it.” In her mind, marriage wasn’t like that. She
had thought that if one
day she got married, she would feel excited as she
went around looking at houses
and would decide on furniture after going to a lot of
annoying but happy effort.
Scenes she had seen on television came to her mind. A
scene where white
curtains swung open under the light of a chandelier in
a wedding shop. The
radiant face of a bride in a wedding dress. She forced
her eyes shut. It wasn’t
like this. She had never imagined that she would be
doing this in a situation
where she had no money or proper job, feeling so
terrible. They
got off the bus and headed home. Without a word, they
went up the stairs to the fourth floor and opened the
door. The home where they
lived. The inside of the place was cold but full of a
familiar smell, and
through the window, Won-hee could see the lighted
veranda of the building
opposite. Neither of them turned on the lights, so
their place was dark inside.
They had lived together for two years here. Her
parents had visited three
times, and each time they had put Sang-ryul’s clothes
into two suitcases and his
shoes into a large cardboard box and hidden them in
the space next to the
stairs leading to the roof. This was possible because
of his small number of
possessions. “Can’t
we just keep on living here?” Knowing
it was quite impossible, she finally said it. She
couldn’t figure out why she behaved like a child like
this when she had to
speak rationally. In the dark, Sang-ryul sat down on a
chair at the table. Just
before, he had spent all his savings to buy home
appliances. She knew that too.
But she wanted to cry. “I
hate putting such junk into the house.” There
was a heavy silence for a moment. He spoke
finally. “Come
off it.” In
the dark, his voice sounded frightening. “Don’t
you understand our situation?” She
waited for his next words without looking at his
face. Every second or two that passed, she seemed to
be coming, step by step, closer
to the center of darkness. What might be inside it? “People
have to live within their means. Do you think
I’m doing this because I don’t know it’s better to buy
new things? If I had the
money, I’d want to do that too. I want to do
everything you want. But our
situation doesn’t allow it. This is the best we can do
right now.” His
gaze was turned toward the table. They were both
looking
at the flowers in the vase, and they each felt the
other seeing it. She felt
that if he said anything about the three tulips, it
would be irreversible. A
little later he made a sound as if he were swallowing
something. Then he breathed out loudly. “You
have to give up what you have to give up. How are
you going to live only doing everything you want?” She
knew too. That you have to live according to your
circumstances. That your life doesn’t go as you wish.
Nevertheless… I’m
not dreaming of anything grand. I’ve never
dared dream of grand things. What I was hoping for
was something very small. Is
that such an absurd wish? Can’t I even hope for that
much? Should I be treated
as someone who doesn’t even know her place just
because I want this? She
put on her shoes again and went out the front
door. She went down the stairs and came out onto the
road. After hesitating at
the junction, she walked past the buildings and headed
for the park. She didn’t
want to go to a bright place because she was crying.
She sat on a bench in a
corner of the park. Whenever
she was in a tight spot, a child would emerge
from inside her. She felt resentful toward Sang-ryul.
They could have gone on living
like this. Then there would have been no problems. I don’t want to move and I’m not ready to
start a new life. At
that moment, something from long ago came to her mind.
The moment she’d heard Sang-ryul’s mother say
something about her. Sang-ryul
was on the phone with his mother, but the room was
quiet, so Won-hee could hear
her voice clearly. Still, she wasn’t paying special
attention. But at some
point, Sang-ryul said: “Mom,
you have a daughter, too, so how can you say
that?” Sang-ryul
got up from his seat with a rigid face and
went to the bathroom. But before the bathroom door
closed she heard a
high-toned dialect from the phone: “Yes.
That’s why I’m not letting my daughter leave
home. I’m holding onto her until she gets married,
then I’ll see her off nicely
wed.” Oddly
enough, Won-hee was calm. But she was surprised.
She had simply assumed that Sang-ryul’s family didn’t
care about such things,
and was envious of him. So she had been thinking that
Sang-ryul was “cool.” She
wasn’t hurt. Perhaps she reckoned it was natural
to hear such remarks? At least she understood
middle-aged women who said such
things. She had heard of such girls since middle
school. Girls who lived with
men. There seemed to be a lot of those kids around her
mother. Whenever her
mother heard such stories, she came and told her. “Once
young girls are sent to university in Seoul, they
all move in with a man. Heavens, aren’t they afraid?
They don’t realize how
terrifying the world is.” When
she heard that as a child, she used to laugh. She
thought that she would never do that, so it went in
one ear and out the other. But
now she had become just such a daughter. She had
become one of the protagonists
of those rumors. Sitting
on the bench, she was filled with emotions. She
felt angry towards Sang-ryul. Yes, you
are the one who’s always right. You are always
rational. I’m weak and I’m sentimental
and talk like a child. But it’s not just because I’m
weak. It’s because you’re
a man and a son. They
were two separate individuals. They could break
up at any time, and if they broke up that would be it.
She would have to cope
with it on her own. Yes, Mom might be right. It might
be irreversible. Tears
flowed. She was miserable. She had endured all she
could. Even just managing this far was remarkable.
Suddenly, she lost
confidence in everything. She had no idea how long it
might take to earn enough
money to open a shop. She tried to figure out how much
money it would take to
get her license and complete her education. It should
take another year. Surely
that’s absurd? Was she doing everything right? This is
all because of money. She
felt that she couldn’t take any more, that she had to
ask her family for help. She
collapsed inwardly. She wondered if she had been right
to quit the bank. Reaching
that point, she suddenly sighed. What had her mother
said when she told her she
was quitting? “You mean you’re throwing away a
full-time job, in a major bank at
that, in order to stick on eyelashes?” It wasn’t
possible. How was she going to
tell her family and the people at her church? “It’s
not the kind of job as stable as you think. Even
what they call a full-time job isn’t the same kind of
life-long job as it used
to be.” “What
will people say? People will think you couldn’t
survive
because you’re dumb, that it’s because you don’t have
the ability to work
there.” “Are
you saying that for my sake? If you’re speaking for
my sake, you should tell me to quit.” Her
mother hadn’t contacted her for a month after that.
She gradually reduced her expectations for her only
daughter. But it wasn’t just
her mother. Won-hee had also learned to reduce her own
expectations for
herself. All the things she thought she would enjoy.
All the things she thought
would fall into her hands when the time came. The
images and ways of life that
textbooks and television had been showing her since
childhood. And she accepted
that she couldn’t be a great daughter. The harder she
tried to be a great
daughter, the unhappier she became. Maybe she
shouldn’t try to be a great
daughter and should just do her best not to be one? Had
it not been for Sang-ryul, she might still be
suffering
from stress and spending half her salary on a hair
loss clinic. He supported
her and encouraged her to overcome her vague fears and
focus on what she
wanted. She
thought she had given everything up, but maybe she
hadn’t. Was there still something left to rid herself
of? She
sat in the park thinking on that winter evening,
shivering, until Sang-ryul found her after searching
around the neighborhood. 4 They
moved their things during the Lunar New Year holidays.
Those were
the only days when Sang-ryul could make time. While a
ladder truck was lifting
everything, a truck carrying the refrigerator, washing
machine and gas range
appeared at the end of the alley. Two gloved workers
placed them one by one on
a wide wheeled platform and took them up using the
stairs. From the start, the couple
in charge of the house came out in sweat suits and
helped them as if it were
their own moving day. They called Won-hee the “new
bride.” When referring to
Sang-ryul, they called him “the outside gentleman,” an
old-fashioned word for “husband.”
The elderly owner, whom they had not seen last time,
came out wearing a pink
top and bottom, holding a broom, and swept the front
hall and stairs. After the
workers had left, Sang-ryul came in and said: “Look
at this!” The
gas stove had been wiped clean. “Did
that lady clean it up?” he wondered. “If
she had any conscience, she should have cleaned
it,” Won-hee said. Then she added, “It really was very
dirty.” He
threw the plastic bag with the pipe and valves onto
the stove. “How
am I going to put this together again? I’ve never
installed a gas range.” After
everyone had left and the front door was closed,
they felt exhausted and decided to take a rest. The
hardest part was over, but
now they had to unpack and put the furniture in the
right places. It looked as
though they would have to remove all the shelves
before cleaning the
refrigerator. They decided to have lunch first.
Sang-ryul said he had seen a
store on the way in and went to buy lunch boxes. As
soon as he left, Won-hee’s phone rang, as if it had
been watching and waiting. It was her mother. As
usual, her heart sank. “Hello?” She
answered the phone casually. Her mother’s voice
was not normal. It was that voice again, a hoarse
voice, trembling with
anxiety, as if speaking after enduring for a long time
in silence. “You
know Aunt Seon-hee,” her mother said, “who works
with me. Her husband works in a radiology department.
Her youngest daughter was
preparing to find a job while living alone in a studio
in Gwangju after
graduating from college. But recently, she’d been
telling her not to come down
to Gwangju and acting strange. So her oldest sister
went to visit her unexpectedly,
not telling her in advance that she was going.” Won-hee
prepared herself. “But,
oh my goodness.” “Why
oh my goodness?” “Oh
my goodness, the room was full of people.” Her
mother seemed to be controlling her breathing in
an attempt to calm her trembling voice. “At
first, she wondered what kind of people they were.
But judging from their religious books and leaflets,
they were worshiping there.
She said they were all young kids.” Her
mother’s voice was trembling. “Won-hee,
you aren’t doing anything like that, are you?
Have you ever heard of the Gospel Holiness Church?
They say it’s fashionable in
Seoul, too.” Won-hee
was relieved; this was so funny that it
annoyed her. Perhaps because she had been tense and on
edge from the morning,
her eyes filled with tears. “So
what happened?” “As
soon as her big sister came in, everyone left, and
then her big sister made her sit down and talk about
it. Looking around, the
place was full of religious flyers. But then the girl
said she was going to the
bathroom, and slipped out. Wearing only slippers.
Right now, Aunt Seon-hee does
nothing but cry, even at work, and can’t eat
anything.” “Oh
my, what’s to be done?” “But
yesterday, her daughter called.” “What?” “She
said she was away on a brief trip, or something. That
her mother shouldn’t worry. Traveling? What a lie.” “Still,
she must have called because she sensed that
her mother might be worried.” Her
mother replied hoarsely. “Won-hee,
you really haven’t joined anything like that,
have you? I lay awake thinking about it all last
night. Why did my well-behaved
daughter say she wasn’t coming home for New Year’s
Day...? Those people divide
families like that and prevent them from meeting.” Won-hee
was running out of patience. “Mom,
please. Do I have to hear about that kind of
thing? Don’t you have anything else to worry about? I
told you I was moving,
didn’t I? When I tell you something, why don’t you
believe it and think about something
else? I’m busy right now. Let’s talk later.” She
hung up the phone without more ado. Then she
dragged a chair in front of the sink and sat down. It
was 11 a.m., but the
kitchen was dark and everywhere was quiet. The Gospel
Holiness Church? Sitting
there alone, she laughed. Is that what
mom is scared of? I wouldn’t
believe in
something like that even if they beat me to death.
But at that moment, the
thought came to her that she had once said she would
never live with a man. Indeed,
you never know. There is nothing you can be sure of in
life. Nothing. If
she had a child later on, she vowed never to worry
about her. No matter what she worried about, the
child’s reality would be very,
very far from it. Her
mother had said that the rock was shaking and
dangerous, but you didn’t realize when you were
standing on it and smiling. You
were smiling without realizing it was dangerous. Her
mother’s voice made her
head ring. The
world is so scary. You don’t
realize it, but it is. She
took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled. After
taking a few more deep breaths, she stood up. Through
the window next to the
sink, she could see the red brick wall of the building
opposite, which was bright,
reflecting the sunlight. They had moved after all. She
looked around her new
home, with boxes piled up everywhere. She wondered how
she would remember this move and this moment in the
distant future.
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