fell asleep.
Chapter 3
Sisters
In the shadow of a large apple tree, sitting on a straw mat, my sister, Sŏnhi and I were playing at being grown-ups. She was six, two years older than me. She was always the mother and I had no choice but to be the father. While she prepared the dinner, mixing up clay, bits of flowers and leaves, and chopping up raw apples that had fallen off the tree, and arranging them on the dinner set, I sat behaving myself, stroking a dust pan and pretending it was a briefcase. I even remembered to cough lightly as if clearing my throat.
‘Dinner is ready.’ She brought in a wooden board loaded with plates and bowls stuffed with pretty ‘food’ not a scrap of which was edible.
‘You must say “it looks good”.’ She kept instructing me. As I said it I pressed my lips tight so as not to show a smile. The new tea set that father had brought with him from Seoul yesterday was very pretty and came in very handy, but I was dying to have done with this tiresome dignity and run wild.
‘You must say, “It was delicious”. Don’t you know how to be dad? Shall we swap it now, and you be the mum, and I’ll show you how to do it properly.’
‘Oh, no thank you,’ I said to myself, ‘I’ve had enough of being grown-up.’
When the long, long summer day was over and the sky in the west was blushing deep it was time for the real dinner. Round the corner of the house, mother appeared carrying the baby strapped on her back.
‘Come on, dears, dinner time. Go and wash your hands first.’ Her voice was so gentle. I don’t remember her face ever showing anger. While Sŏnhi packed the play set, I shook dust off my skirt and ran off to the cowshed where my father was giving out some instructions to the workers.
‘Father, dinner is ready.’
‘Righto!’ said he. I made a mental note of the expression for tomorrow’s dinner with Sŏnhi.
Holding my hand, father almost dragged me to the bubbling spring, where squatting down he washed my face and hands vigorously. I wished he would not let the soap suds get in my eyes. It hurt.
The large round table was out in the middle of the living room because all the family was together tonight. My father had taken a job with a newspaper company in Seoul and was away most of the time these days, leaving the running of the huge orchard virtually to mother. Then, insisting that children should be educated in the capital, he had transferred my elder brother, Hyŏngsŏk, to a reputable school there. When he left home we had all cried, and the house felt empty for a long time. Yesterday he came home with father for the summer vacation. He received a hero’s welcome, and he lavished presents from Seoul on the family.
‘Hyŏngsŏk’s no ordinary chap,’ my father said. ‘You should see the way he sticks at his studies. This term he’s missed being top by one point, but it is not the sort of thing one expects of a boy straight from the country.’ Father looked proud.
‘School work is important,’ said mother, ‘but what about his health? He looks so much thinner.’
‘I know, he’s gone thin. It was his first time away from home. His uncle and aunt are really so kind to him, but he’s been homesick, especially at the beginning.’
‘Hyŏngsŏk, did you miss me?’ Mother stroked his head, and turned away her tearful eyes. ‘Still you have got two more years to work hard, and then the year after that you ought to get into Kyŏng-gi High school, oughtn’t you? That is your father’s wish.’
Father had been a Kyŏng-gi boy himself, but he got involved in the nationwide protest march of 1919 against the Japanese annexation. He was suspended from school and put in prison. After his release he went to Japan and continued his study at Waseda University, and he cherished the one wish of seeing his own son at Kyŏng-gi.
‘Next year, I think, we ought to move Sŏnhi to Seoul as well,’ said father. ‘I have been thinking about it a lot. For the children’s sake we must eventually settle in Seoul ourselves. To do that, this orchard will have to go. It is hard work for you as it is now.’
‘Is Myŏngsŏk asleep?’ He changed the subject.
‘Yes.’ Mother’s voice was low.
Myŏngsŏk, just over two was asleep at one end of the room. When the supper table was taken away, the kitchen maid brought in a large wicker basket laden with sweet melons. They were bright yellow, the skin smooth and thin. Putting aside the sweetest looking one for father, mother said, ‘Children, take your pick.’ My brother picked out a big one, and so did my sister. Not being a big eater I picked up the smallest and yellowest.
‘Let’s see who’s got the sweetest,’ said father. ‘They say that one who is good at choosing a sweet melon is also good at choosing a spouse.’
‘Taste mine,’ ‘taste mine, too,’ we all held out our melons to father. Sampling a bit off brother’s he said, ‘It’s very sweet, ‘and then to Sŏnhi, ‘This is very sweet too.’ Lastly taking a bite of mine, he said, ‘Look, this is the sweetest. She has the right way of choosing – you taste, mother.’
‘Um, it’s delicious. She was the last to choose, and picked the sweetest!’
‘Let me try,’ ‘give us a bite,’ my brother and sister begged me. Proudly I handed my melon to my sister, ‘You have two bites,’ I said, and then to my brother, ‘No, you can’t have any,’ pouting.
‘Why?’ They all looked at me.
‘Are you sulking about something, darling?’ asked mother with a smile.
‘You wouldn’t let me stay with you.’ I gave my brother a sidelong glance pretending I was still angry. They all burst into laughter.
‘Silly idiot. It was all because you were making such a fuss about nothing.’ He explained what had happened.
‘This afternoon we went into the orchard to see how blackberries were doing. We saw this gorgeous dragonfly darting about. She kept pestering me to catch it for her. If I’d had a net I would have, but without one how could I? She started being silly and crying. I told her to go home. I’d forgotten all about it.’ Once more they all laughed.
‘She was sitting on the ground, crying, so I coaxed her and brought her home, mummy.’ Sŏnhi explained her part in the drama.
‘She’s like that,’ said mother to father. ‘Sometimes she brings up some little thing that had upset her ages and ages ago, and goes on and on about It. I don’t know why she does it.’
‘Because she’s a clever and sensitive girl, that’s why. Mark my words, she will be somebody when she grows up. Look at the way she has chosen that melon.’ He laughed and I was instantly happy.
‘It’s thanks to Sŏnhi that I’ve kept my sanity. She’s so good and never causes any trouble. She’s so reliable and practically looks after Sukey. I am sure I don’t know what Sukey will do if Sŏnhi goes.’
‘Let’s have a song contest. Come on, who would like to start?’ Father thus changed the atmosphere.
‘Hyŏngsŏk,
