by Seong-nan Ha
My head pounded all night. When I finally woke, the room was empty. There were empty bottles strewn in one corner of the room. I sat up frantically; I re-tied my hair and examined my clothes. My blouse and skirt were wrinkled badly and I felt something hard under me: a 100-won coin and a 10-won coin. The newspaper was crinkled and warped from spills, and dried bits of food and red pepper paste had splattered on the picture of the actress. The door opened; it was my fiancé coming back from washing up.
“You drank all this last night?”
“Get up. I’ll take you home.”
“Where’d they go?”
“They went home as soon as you fell asleep. Thank God they’ve got some manners.”
He was lying. But who knows if they had actually left after I’d fallen asleep, just as he said? I drank too much last night. All I wanted was to go home so that I could take a hot bath. Under the porch, my shoes were crushed and were marked unmistakably with footprints, as if the men had trampled on them to and from the bathroom.
The hot water melted away my exhaustion. I sat in the tub until my skin turned red. While soaping my body, I noticed a deep scratch on my chest. It looked as if something sharp had been dragged over my skin. Had a stray cat snuck into the room in the middle of the night? The moonstone ring that the man had been wearing flashed across my mind, but I shook my head. It wasn’t like me to think something like that. The scratch stung every time the soap got in it.
•
When I didn’t get my period, I recalled the night I had spent with my fiancé. We were getting married next March. Getting pregnant before the wedding wasn’t something I had planned, but there was no need to worry, since we were engaged. After all, plans always change. Though I had intended to work for a while after getting married, I wouldn’t be able to continue once I started to show; there were many girls vying for my position as the CEO’s receptionist.
As always, my fiancé and I talked on the phone and watched late-night movies on the weekends. I sometimes asked after his friends I had met on his birthday, but he only gave halfhearted answers.
For some reason, I didn’t tell him about the pregnancy. One day I changed into my work clothes and my skirt felt tight around my waist. I headed toward the school where he worked and called him. I waited at a café from where I could see the school entrance. Girls in uniform poured out of the gates. The local bus that headed to the subway station came and went, loading students and carrying them away. My fiancé cut across the school yard slowly, his hands shoved inside his pants pockets. Every time students bowed to him, he acknowledged them with a slight nod. I sat by the large window and watched him step through the gates, cross the street, and push open the café door.
He ordered coffee and I ordered a citron tea. I normally didn’t drink citron tea. I was hoping he would notice, but he was preoccupied with stirring sugar and cream into his coffee. His thumb and forefinger that gripped the teaspoon were stained with white and red chalk dust.
“I think I have to quit soon.” I said.
“It’s hard to find a job like that. You know it isn’t easy making a living.”
He seemed exhausted. He was scruffy around the mouth, as if he hadn’t shaved. He continued, “One of my students ran away from home. I couldn’t teach all afternoon because I had to go look for her. I’ll probably have to look for her tonight. Shit.”
“There was something on TV recently, about where kids like that go. I forget the name now. It’s cold outside, make sure you dress warm.”
“You already gave your notice?”
“No, not yet. The thing is … I’m pregnant. I think it was that night. On your birthday.”
He’d been gazing out the window, but I saw his face stiffen. Seeing his reaction, I couldn’t help feeling anxious.
“If it’s because of work, don’t worry. I’ll look for another job. There must be some part-time work I could do from home.”
“It’s not mine.”
His gaze was still fixed on some point outside the window.
“What are you talking about? You lay down beside me and then touched me. Were you so drunk you can’t even remember?”
He sipped his coffee. He then put down the cup and gave a wry laugh. “Sure, I was lying beside you at first. But in the middle of the night, I had to go to the bathroom. When I came back, I just lay down by the door.”
The teacup I held in my hand trembled. “That’s not funny. Don’t joke around right now.”
But I could tell by his face that he wasn’t joking.
“If it’s not yours, whose is it?” My voice rose, despite myself.
He glared at me and hissed, “Hey, I work right over there. If there’s even a whiff of rumor about me, I’m canned. So keep your voice down. Like I said, it isn’t easy making a living.”
All the energy was draining from my body. I slumped back against the sofa.
“When I woke up that morning, I was lying by the door. It was Jinsu who was lying beside you.”
It was the first time I’d heard his name. “The surgeon,” he enunciated.
I had believed that all his friends had gone home that night. It hadn’t occurred to me that the surgeon might have stayed behind. But in the dark I was sure I had recognized my fiancé’s scent. I couldn’t move my tongue, as though a tongue depressor were holding it down. I managed to stammer, “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Should I summarize what happened? At first, I was lying beside you. But I had to go to the bathroom. I was so drunk I couldn’t find my place. And that’s it. I didn’t touch you. Everyone else saw Jinsu sleeping by you.”
Everyone else? Did he mean that the rest of his friends hadn’t gone home, that they had also been in the room?
“Just get to the point. Is there someone else?” I asked.
“You’re the one who fooled around with another guy. You were giggling like an idiot, with me right there. Even when he leaned up against you, you just sat there and laughed. If you hadn’t told me you were pregnant, I would have married you like a total sucker, knowing nothing. What a joke I would have become then.”
When we left the coffee shop, everything had changed; we were no longer two people who were getting married. We parted at the bus stop. Before he left, he hesitated a moment and said, “Can I give you some advice? You shouldn’t have it.”
My head snapped up at his words like a venomous snake’s. He wasn’t the man I had known these past three years. “That’s none of your business. I don’t know how great you think your friendship is, but I’m going to ask him myself.”
He seemed a little shocked. I took out my address book and wrote down the surgeon’s contact information. I bit my lower lip so that my hand wouldn’t shake. When my bus came, I didn’t look back. It was full of students from a neighboring school. The students smelled of sweat, dust, and bathroom disinfectant. I gagged and covered my mouth with my hand. My morning sickness had begun.
The surgeon recognized me at once. Dressed in a white lab coat, he seemed more like a doctor. He offered me a canned coffee drink from the vending machine but I refused. He smacked his forehead, as if he had just remembered why. It seemed he’d already been tipped off by my now ex-fiancé.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush. Was it you?”
He laughed silently instead of answering. We walked through the hospital lobby bustling with doctors and patients and headed outside. The December cold cut into my jacket. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth.
“I told you about Faust, didn’t I? We’ve been friends for sixteen years. It’s not easy to stay close for that long. Do I look like someone who would fool around with his friend’s fiancé? After I came back from the bathroom in the middle of the night, I lay down by the door. When I woke up, you were lying beside me, because the other three who had slept between us had already gotten up. So if they accuse us of sleeping next to each other, I can’t say they’re completely wrong …”
“But you were drunk, like every
one else.”
He dropped his cigarette and stamped it out with his heel.
“What are you trying to say? Believe me, there’s nothing that’ll sober you up like sex. But I slept like a baby all night. It’s been a while since I’ve slept like that. It was all thanks to the alcohol.”
“So I guess I’ll have to ask the other two then?”
Without a fuss, he gave me the phone numbers of the banker and the one who worked for the organization.
“If things didn’t have to get so awkward, you and I could have been friends. Too bad. Well, hope to see you again.”
He stood outside until I climbed into a taxi. There was some traffic on the way to the bank. When I arrived, the bank was already closed. A metal shutter was pulled down in front of the main entrance and all the blinds were drawn. I stepped into the payphone booth across the street. A female employee answered. After a little while, she came back on the phone and apologized, mumbling that the banker had stepped out for a moment. I knew that he was avoiding my call. He’d known that I would come looking for him.
I stood by the back door of the bank, waiting for the employees to leave. One by one, they started to file out. He was one of the last to leave. He glanced around nervously as he stepped through the door. Although I hadn’t been able to remember his face clearly, I recognized him right away. Each time he took a step, I could hear loose change jingling in his pockets. In a loud voice, I called out to him from behind.
Even after ordering coffee, he perched on the edge of the sofa, his gaze skipping ceaselessly about the room. He was the timidest member of Faust. He was a nervous man.
“Why don’t you have some coffee?” I said.
He picked up the cup, but his hand shook so much that some coffee sloshed over the rim. He gripped the cup with both hands. He didn’t look like he would have enough courage to touch me. But he would have, if someone had forced him. As if he were thirsty, he gulped the whole thing down. It was pathetic to watch.
“What happened to the girl who fell from the 15th floor?”
He’d been putting a cigarette in his mouth, but at my words, he dropped his lighter. It bounced off my shoe and landed beside the table. I picked it up and flicked it for him. He sucked anxiously on his cigarette.
“Why are you so tense? Do I remind you of someone?”
“I do-don’t know what you mean …” he stammered.
“I saw the look on your face when you first saw me. And I heard too many things that night.”
“This has nothing to do with that. I got up to go to the bathroom. When I came back—”
“After coming back from the bathroom, you must have fallen asleep by the door, since you were so drunk.” I didn’t have to hear the rest. It was the third time I was hearing the same story. “I guess I have to go see your friend then, the quiet one.”
His face turned pale. An invisible hand seemed to be strangling him. He let out the breath he’d been holding.
“You might have his number, but you won’t be able to get in touch with him. He’s usually the one who calls. It’s the nature of his job.”
I got to my feet. He looked up at me and said with difficulty, “Don’t tell them what you heard that night. You know what I mean.”
When I glanced back one last time, he was bent over the table with his face buried in his arms. A cigarette burned on the rim of the ashtray.
I called the last friend several times but couldn’t get through. I called once more around 10 P.M. A frail, female voice answered. It was probably his wife.
“Is this Miseon’s house?” I blurted, saying a random name.
“Sorry, you’ve got the wrong number.”
After she hung up, I continued to stand in the phone booth for a long time. Even if I managed to meet him, I’d only get the same story. The temperature dropped below zero. I could see high-rise apartment towers in the distance. I raised the collar of my coat and headed for the apartment towers. I crossed two crosswalks. I stood in front of the flowerbed and looked up. Because I was standing so close to the building, I could not see the top.
The security guard was slumped against his chair, sleeping uncomfortably. I was relieved I didn’t have to come up with a lie. I stepped into the elevator and pressed the top floor. When I got off on the 25th floor, the corridor was empty. At the far end was a metal ladder on the wall that led to the roof. I climbed the ladder and pushed open the trapdoor. Although there was a padlock on the door, it wasn’t locked. Because I kept stepping on the end of my coat, I nearly fell off the ladder a few times. I emerged from between massive water tanks. The ledge was not even a meter high. I put one foot up on it. The flowerbed twenty-five floors below loomed close all of a sudden. A wave of vertigo hit me. On the concrete down below, it seemed I could see the body of the girl who had jumped, her four limbs splayed in different directions. An hour passed, but I could not put my other foot onto the ledge.
I cut across a small park and walked blindly. From somewhere I heard the cheerful strains of a Christmas carol. I found myself standing in front of a small cathedral. Through the lit windows, I saw people singing. It was only then that I realized it was Christmas Eve. Until last night, I had been full of excitement. When I told my fiancé I was pregnant, I had hoped he would say, “What a great Christmas present. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
I rounded the building and stepped into the courtyard. Beside the main steps was a statue of the Virgin Mary. Now here was someone who had been shocked by an unexpected pregnancy.
I had been too drunk that night. I still remember the way my fiancé had touched me. The lips pressed against mine had been so familiar. But everything is hazy after that. Sleep overwhelmed me. I was groggy and the room was too dark. The October night was cold, and the room, which my fiancé had forgotten to heat, was chilly. I clung to him to melt away the cold. There was a streetlight at the entrance to his street, but troublemakers often threw rocks at the bulbs to break them. It was too dark that night. If I hadn’t been so drunk, I could have smelled the disinfectant on the hand that touched me. The coins I found under my skirt in the morning could have fallen out from the banker’s pockets. The scratch on my chest could have been from the moonstone ring the man was wearing. I had never thought that something could go wrong with our plans to marry. I was positive I knew everything there was to know about my fiancé. We drank too much that night.
I pushed open the cathedral door and found a seat near the entrance. The pew felt cold. I’ll gradually begin to show. The song they were singing was “Joy to the World.” My lips began to move. As I faltered along, the rest of the words came back to me. I slipped my hands into my coat pockets and pressed them against my stomach. I couldn’t yet feel any movement inside.
Right about now, the members of Faust have probably gathered again. While they talk about the girl who fell from the 15th floor, the banker will start to cry like a baby. The other three will bully and harass him, and in the end they will once again declare their lifelong friendship. Their friendship will go on for another twenty, even forty years, and the story of the girl who jumped from the 15th floor will never be told to the outside world. She could have left a note on her desk before she jumped. The note would have contained the story of the Faust group. But wishing to protect her reputation, her parents would have burned up the note and scattered the ashes on the apartment flowerbed. The secret will stay buried forever.
My belly seemed a little bigger than before. I whispered to the baby inside. Your dad’s name is Faust. Faust falls for the devil’s temptation, but in the end he’s saved. Baby mine, I love you.
* Fewer than 300 Korean family names are in use today, with each family name divided into one or more clans, or bon-gwan, identifying the clan’s ancestral home. Thus people from the same clan are considered to be of the same blood, such that until recently, it was illegal for a man and a woman of the same clan to marry. Despite this change, marriage between a man and a woman of the same clan is cons
idered to be taboo, regardless of how distant the actual lineages may be, even to the present day.
The Dress Shirt
I
Was that one of last year’s kites?
The nightscape of the Seoul outskirts stretched on for miles in the smoggy haze, as if a sheet of tracing paper had been placed on top. Car headlights swept between the glow of 24-hour convenience stores, church steeple crosses, and streetlights. The morning would reveal the shabbiness that had been concealed by night—apartment buildings in various stages of reconstruction, residential streets heaped with garbage, and the dark reeking stream that cut through vacant lots overgrown with weeds—but the nightscape was lovely. The high-rises located only five bus stops away glittered like crystal.
Eunok stood on her balcony on the top floor and gazed down at the other six apartment towers, which had been built at varying heights. They spread below her feet like terraces. After a while, the shiny rooftop railings seemed to wash in like the waves, wetting her feet, only to be washed out again. Every rooftop was cluttered with a gigantic water tank with an iron ladder running up its side, a tridentlike lightning rod, and large satellite antennas. But what flashed from the end of an antenna on Tower 402 was a kite with a snapped string.
Last winter, kite flying had been popular among the children in the apartment complex. They had dashed through the grounds, trying to get their bangpae “shield” kites or gaori “stingray” kites decorated with cartoon characters to take off into the wind. Cars constantly blasted their horns at the children.
