"Sookan, you have to remember that you didn't do anything wrong. It's okay. You can't let your sister make you feel guilty about taking one little, harmless break. You deserved it!"
"It's funny," I said. "I know my mother would tell me it was all right. She would acknowledge that I had done something impulsive, but would say that it was okay. My sister, though, would criticize and lecture me. It's amazing how differently she and my mother respond to the exact same situations. Even to the same letter."
"What do you mean?" Marci asked.
"Well, 1 wrote my family a quick letter about how you and I made Korean food and had a little party here. My mother wrote back and said she thought it was wonderful that we had done such a thing. But my sister said that I shouldn't have dared to cook for foreigners. She said that it was arrogant of me to try, that I don't know how to cook, and that I probably did a great injustice to Korean cuisine. She said I should have done something more worthwhile with my time."
"That's ridiculous. Everyone loved it."
"When I was in Korea, I thought everything my sister said was right. But now I find that I don't always agree with her, and I resent the way she tries to control every aspect of my life. Then, as soon as I think those things, I feel guilty about being so disrespectful. Maybe it's just that I'm so far away, and I'm in a culture that she can't understand. Or maybe it's the difference in our ages. I don't know. I wish I could make some sense of it."
"I don't think it's any of those things," Marci said. "It's not distance or the culture that makes it hard to understand each other. Look at me: I live fifteen minutes away from home and see my parents once a month, and I still sometimes feel they are from another planet! I guess the age difference can sometimes make things harder; my parents and your sister are older and think they know everything. Maybe that's it. But you don't have those problems with your mother, do you?"
"Oh, no. My mother doesn't push me at all. She trusts me. She always says she knows I'll do just fine. It makes me feel good to know she believes in me."
"Yeah, that's all I want. I just wish my father would try to understand me and would trust that I know what I want out of life."
"Yes, that's all I want from my sister, too," I agreed. "I wonder if she has any idea how important her approval is to me? Her letters haunt me. Every time I enjoy myself, I think of her, and wonder what she would be saying. Just like tonight."
"Sookan, she is not a good sister to you. She's making you miserable. You've got to tell her to stop trying to run your life!"
Marci had said this to me before. It had been shocking to me then, when all I could think about was how disgraceful it would be not to obey my sister. I would bring shame on her, myself, and my family. How my brothers would chastise me, I had thought. But now, I was slowly beginning to feel that I didn't always have to obey my sister. Just because she was older didn't guarantee that she had the right answer for me.
In Korea, I wouldn't have even dreamed of thinking this way. But maybe that was why I had wanted to leave home for a while; I had always felt constrained there. My brothers and my sister used to remind me constantly that I was too expressive, too sensitive, too direct, and too ambitious for a girl. Here, everyone encouraged and complimented me. Am I becoming vain? I wondered. Is the problem with me, and not with my sister? I was tired of waffling between anger and guilt.
"Marci," I said, "perhaps we should be more thankful that we have people who care about us. After all, strangers don't drive us crazy like this. Only people who love us can cause us this much pain."
"I suppose. All I know is that I can't wait to go to Greece this summer. My family suffocates me; I just need to get away for a while. Did I tell you I found a classics group that travels through Greece performing plays in ancient amphitheaters?"
She suddenly looked so excited. I was going to miss her during those three months. "I wish you could come with me," she said, seeming to read my thoughts.
"Me, too."
"Are you all set with your summer job?" Marci asked me.
"It's all been arranged. I'll be working on campus. A Gregorian chant program is scheduled for June, and students will be coming from around the world. I volunteered to help at registration, and to give tours of the campus during the first week. After that, I'll be working for Miss Mullen in the placement office. I'm going to try to apply some of the work hours to my scholarship hours for next year, and to save as much money as possible. My dream is to be able to send my mother and maybe even my little brother, Inchun, plane tickets so that they can come to my graduation and then fly back home with me."
"Well, set some time aside in August," Marci said, smiling. "When I get back, we can go visit my aunt in Philadelphia together."
We hadn't solved our problems, but talking had been a much-needed release. After Marci went back to her room, I took off my dress and hung it carefully next to my cream silk dress in the closet. It didn't look as elegant as it had when I first saw it in the store. I felt frivolous for having bought it. I should have done my duty first. The cream dress would have been fine.
While I was reprimanding myself, I heard Mother's voice. Sookan, stop that. You are a bit impulsive and head' strong at times, but you did well. I smiled, remembering how gentle yet firm Mother was. Well, I thought to myself, I will work steadily at my job, and maybe by Easter time, I will have saved up enough to buy all the things I had planned to send home.
I reached to unclasp the pearl necklace, when suddenly, the strand broke, and all the pearls scattered across the floor. On my knees, I scrambled to pick them up. I collected them from under the two beds, and all across the floor. After staring awhile at the handful of dust and pearls before me, I got out a handkerchief, and wiped off each pearl one by one. I remembered something my mother used to tell me. She used to say that women are like oysters. Just as an oyster takes an irritating grain of sand and creates a pearl around it, a woman can take a painful experience and enrich herself by creating something precious from that pain. We take in the misery and the bitterness, but instead of letting it poison us, we turn it into a precious pearl. Difficult times can make us rich within, as long as we remember the story of the oyster.
I cleaned each pearl and thought of my mother. She had suffered so much, and she had made herself richer for it. She was rich in understanding and love. Even now, when she was so far away, I could hear her stories, and they comforted me. I put all my pearls into a little box. The next day, I would find some thread, and restring the precious beads.
Chapter Sixteen
Freshman year was drawing to a close. I had taken my last exam, handed in my last paper, and felt confident that I would get passing grades. I looked up at the clear blue sky as I walked over to the art studio, my new favorite spot. Painting was the one course of the semester that demanded no work outside of class. Sitting in the sunny, spacious studio was relaxing for me. There, my mind wasn't racing to try to think in English. I could just concentrate on my painting and escape.
Everyone else had already cleaned out her drawer, and the cleaning crew had begun its work on the studio. I opened my large, flat drawer that held all the work I had done over the course of the semester. There were several charcoal still lifes of various collections of fruits, nuts, and flowers. They looked amateurish to me now. There was no sense of space and balance. The meticulous detail made each nut and piece of fruit look almost too perfect. Then I found some later sketches. One of them particularly pleased me. Three walnuts were scattered on a table, and one was cracked open, with the meat of the nut detailed. The strokes were graceful, not tight and cautious as in the other sketches. I had only meant to keep a couple, but I couldn't part with any of these sketches that had taken me so long to do. I took them all out of the drawer and put them into my bag.
I walked over to my easel, which held the painting I had just finished. It depicted a large, pink crystal vase holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums. The sun shone through the window behind it, creating a brilliant rainbow reflectio
n on the crystal. It would make a perfect gift for Ellen, as pink was her favorite color. The other painting I had done was quieter and more intense. It was of an apple, a pear, strawberries, and red grapes, all clustered together on a rustic wooden table. Marci would like this one, I thought.
I arrived back at the dorm. The last group of students was getting ready to leave, and their parents were busily trying to get things loaded into their cars. The doors to all the dorm rooms were left open, revealing spaces that were completely empty except for the beds and dressers, and the papers and hangers that littered the floor.
I went back to my room, expecting to see Ellen packing. But the room was half bare. There was a note on my bed.
Sookan,
My parents and Kyle came early. I looked for you at the library, but I couldn't find you. Where are you? Well, I have to be off. I'll call you tomorrow. Come spend the weekend with me—or the whole week if you can. My summer counseling job at Camp Piquanock doesn't begin for a while, so I'll be home and would love to have you visit.
Love, Ellen
P.S. Kyle told me that Tom Winston wants to see you. Why didn't you tell me that you two spoke on the phone a few times? He's going to be staying around Princeton for the summer, and maybe you won't be so busy.
I sighed. I liked Tom. I had had a wonderful time with him the evening we all went out, and I did want to see him again. But when he first called, I had grown flustered and heard myself explaining that I just didn't have the time to see him. He had said that he understood, but that he'd keep in touch. He called a few more times, but I never wrote or called him back, and I felt sorry that I might have hurt his feelings. It was true that I didn't have time to date, but I was also afraid. I felt that I didn't really know how to date, so I had decided to avoid dating altogether. I didn't want to say anything to Ellen, because I knew she would make me double-date with her again, and I didn't think I could handle that. Maybe my sister was right. Maybe I had left home too early.
I wished that I, too, could pack up my things and head back home for summer vacation. But Korea was too far away and the journey too expensive, so the college would be my home for the summer.
I had planned to give the painting to Ellen before she left, but now I was glad to have the chance to surprise her. I got out some paper and started to wrap it. I could almost picture Ellen's delighted reaction upon receiving this big package in the mail. I missed her already.
"What are you wrapping?" Marci said, poking her head into the room.
"Hi, Marci. Come in. I'm getting a painting ready to mail to Ellen."
"Oh, these are great. I love this one: the fruit looks so real," Marci said. "I wish I could draw and paint like you do."
"I was going to wrap that painting and sketch for you. Do you really like them?"
"I love them, but are you sure you want to part with them?" she asked.
"Oh, yes! They are for you," I replied, relieved that Marci liked my work.
"I already know where to take them to be framed, and I have the perfect spots for them in my room." Marci gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Unlike Ellen, who left us all branded with her pink lipstick, Marci never hugged or kissed anyone. I was glad to see her being so expressive and spontaneous.
"Why didn't you give Ellen's gift to her before she left?" Marci asked. "There was lots of room in their big station wagon."
"I didn't get back in time to see her off. Her parents and Kyle came earlier than we thought they would."
"Oh, I see," Marci said. Then she added, "I can take you downtown to mail it. The college post office is already closed."
"Thanks, Marci. You're always there for me," I said, as I placed her thumb on the string I was trying to tie. "Oh, and can we stop by a couple of stores? I want to finally pick up some things for my family."
"Sure, I've got time," Marci said. "Listen, Sookan, after you do all that, do you want to come to Philadelphia with me to visit my aunt? We can spend two days there, and then drive back Sunday. I leave for Greece on Monday."
"Thanks, Marci, but I think I'll just stay here. I'm so tired, and I still need to pack up. I have to clear out of the dorm for a few weeks so the cleaning crew can do their job. Sister Reed has arranged for me to spend that time at the infirmary."
"You aren't sick, are you?" Marci asked, looking worried.
"Oh, no. I just need somewhere to stay, and Sister Reed thought it would be a good place to get some rest since it's so quiet there."
"Come on, let's take care of everything. Then we can go for a drive to Greenwich, and take a walk by the water," Marci said, lifting the package I had just finished addressing.
"In that case, let me take my camera. I must begin to take some pictures for my family," I said, digging the camera out of a drawer.
The sky was so clear, with only a few large, bright white clouds, just like a child's drawing. Sailboats basked lazily under the hot sun. Leaning back on a big dogwood tree, Marci and I stared out at the water. It was a sleepy afternoon, with the sun seeming to slow the whole world down.
"Marci, thanks for helping me with everything today," I said. "I feel so relieved after mailing that package home. I'd been wanting to do that all year. I do hope my mother likes the purse. I know that she places very little value on material things, but I wanted her to know that I was thinking of her. Maybe the gift was more for me than for her."
Marci pulled a small box from her purse and said, "Speaking of gifts, this is for you."
I carefully opened it. It was a beautiful gold bracelet. I just stared at it, so Marci took it out of the case and unclasped it.
"Look, I had an inscription put inside. 'To my dear friend, Sookan. With love, Marci. 1955.'"
I was speechless. Instead of thanking Marci, I gave her a big hug, and then sat admiring the bracelet through my tears.
"You have such small wrists," Marci said, putting the bracelet on me. "I had to get the smallest one they had, but it fits you perfectly."
"Thank you, Marci, I love it," I mumbled.
"No, Sookan, I wanted to thank you —for being such a special friend. It was a hard year for me; I just didn't feel like I fit in and I didn't have any friends. But you changed that. And talking to you about my family has been such a help to me, too."
"I didn't do anything."
"Yes, you did. You understand people much better than I do. Much better than most people do, I think. Ellen said you helped her a lot this year, too. I helped her pack this morning and we talked for a long time. If it hadn't been for you, she said she might have eloped with Kyle. She said you really made her stop and think, and because of you, everything is turning out better than she had ever hoped. I like Ellen, now. I'm so happy the three of us are going to be roommates next year. Ellen's excited, too. And you brought us all together."
Embarrassed by her compliments, I fussed with my camera and said, "Marci, would you sit over there? Let me finally take some pictures of you."
We posed for each other until I had finished my roll.
"Next year, I'm going to take a photography class and learn how to develop my own pictures," I said. "My brother Hanchun was never willing to show me; he said it wasn't for girls." I imagined how magical it would be to watch a picture emerge from a sheet of blank paper. Then my brother's image rose before me. Visions of home always appeared to me at the oddest times.
"You know," I said, "I might see if I can still sign up for a summer photography class. I think they have one in the evenings."
"I wonder if my father would show us how to process the film," Marci said. "We have a darkroom in the basement, and he still keeps asking me to use my camera. Maybe I'll try to take some good pictures when I'm in Greece. Actually, Sookan, don't sign up for the summer course. When I get back from Greece, we can learn together, okay?"
It was a wonderful idea. I smiled as I thought of how happy Marci's father would be. The sun shone warmly on my face and I closed my eyes. I realized I had dozed off when Marci shook me and point
ed to her car. We drove back to campus, thinking our own thoughts. It had finally sunk in that I had made it through my first year, the year that Mother had been so worried about. It had been frustrating at times, overwhelming, and a lot of hard work. But it had been challenging and exciting, with so many new things to learn. It was a grand accomplishment.
This summer 1 would write long letters to everyone. I would write to each of my taciturn brothers, even though they had never written to me. I knew they were thinking of me and were just not very expressive. They had always been that way, yet I still wished they would write and tell me that they missed me and that the house felt empty without me. I smiled, realizing how silly I was being. They could never write that kind of letter. I leaned back and played with my bracelet. Marci glanced over at me and turned the radio on. We left a trail of soft music as we sped down the highway.
Chapter Seventeen
I went with Mr. and Mrs. Gannon to see Marci off to Greece.
"Thanks for coming to the airport with us," Marci said, full of excitement. "I still wish you were joining me. Now, don't go overboard with your volunteer work. Take a couple of days off before you begin your summer job, promise?" I assured her I would, and wished her a good trip. She had been dreaming of visiting Greece for so long, and I could see how exhilarated she was. Her parents looked nervous, but relieved to see Marci so happy and full of life.
When the Gannons dropped me off at school, I went over to Sister Casey's office to see what I could do to help. She asked me to write nametags in calligraphy, and to help register the students and give tours of the campus the next day. Despite my promise to Marci, I worked all week long. I told Ellen that I had no time to visit her before she left for camp, but that I would see her when she got back. I missed her already.
My job at the administration office turned out to be a busy one. My days were filled with typing and filing. I worked until six, and often took envelopes back to my room to stuff. The more hours I fit in during the summer, the more time I would have to study during the next semester.
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