by Junghyo Ahn
“Where did he say he was going?”
“He didn’t tell me. He doesn’t speak to me much, you know. And I didn’t ask him either.”
“I wonder where he’s gone,” she mumbled again.
“You look worried. Anything wrong?”
“Don’t you think he goes out too often these days? I wonder why he goes out so much.”
“Maybe he’s going out to play with his friends.”
“He doesn’t have any friends.”
“Oh.”
“The village kids stopped playing with him ever since—you know.”
“You told me so.”
“So he must have gone out for some other reason.”
“Now I remember that Mansik looked rather grumpy when he left home.”
“He’s always grumpy lately.”
Ollye gazed at herself in the mirror for a while and then began to paint her lips.
SEVEN
Mansik had been hiding among the stacked sheaves of straw about a hundred yards away from Dragon Lady Club; after dark his mind was never at peace unless he kept his vigil over the house himself. Since the agreement had been made with Chandol, Mansik found himself unable to sleep comfortably at home, troubled by the vivid image of the boy slinking around the Club in the dark. He knew he was partly responsible for what was going on behind the Club every night, for connivance was another face of conspiracy. He had to do something, though within limits, to mend matters. He had to do at least this much—keep surveillance over the Club to make sure that Chandol was faithful to his bargain.
Dressed in a thick army field jacket and a woolen cap with large furred side flaps and heavy Yankee boots, Mansik crouched in the nest he had made, a blanket draped across his shoulders. A drop of cold snot dangled at his nose-tip. He wriggled his toes and massaged his knees to warm himself. Still wriggling his toes, he looked around the Club, the field, the village and at the brittle stars in the icy sky.
The muffled sound of laughter and voices occasionally trickled out of the tightly-closed windows of Dragon Lady Club. “Hey you goddamn! No touch there!” Giggling. A beer bottle clinking against a glass. The music from the radio. Imugi started singing, “Arirang arirang arario.” The bengkos awkwardly repeated the line. “Wondopul, wondopul,” Yonghi said, “you song namba wang.”
Mansik felt drowsy from the cold; he had been crouching in the straw nest for twenty minutes. Gradually his vision blurred and he could not resist his overwhelming sleepiness. In the sky the moon grew brighter and brighter and brighter until it turned to a blazing summer sun and the warm sun rays poured over the green field and a white origami paper boat drifted down the stream toward the river, bobbing, bobbing, bobbing, and somebody threshed bean pods with a long bamboo flail somewhere, whack-thud-whack-thud-whack-thud, and twelve farmers were building a bonfire in front of the rice mill although it was broad daylight and the five boys sat around in a circle under the old ginkgo tree and each boy told ancient tales in turn about ghouls and foxes governed by evil spirits and a woman spread red peppers on the thatched roof to dry them in the autumn sun and then suddenly the whole world was covered with snow and Mansik was walking along a mountain path and he missed a step and fell down into the bengko dump pit and he woke up, startled.
Pulling himself together, Mansik looked over at the Club. The music from the radio had stopped but the drinking party was still going on. He rubbed his gloved hands together and exercised his shoulders under the blanket. He took a more comfortable position in the nest to continue his surveillance.
This was his third night on lookout. On the first night neither Chandol nor Kijun showed up. He searched around the Club twice during the night but found no evidence of the boys’ presence among the frozen grains of vomited rice and the poked holes in the snow where the soldiers had urinated.
Last night, Chandol came. He had to pass by Mansik’s hiding place because the straw stack was located next to the shortcut across the rice paddies from the log bridge to the Club. Chandol was startled to see Mansik scramble up to his feet among the sheaves of straw.
“Oh, it’s you,” Chandol said. “You scared me out of my wits, rising out of nowhere like that. What on earth are you doing here anyway?”
Mansik was at a loss momentarily. He had nothing to say but, “You’d better not forget what you promised me.”
Chandol slouched over to the rear window of the Club. While he was peeping in Imugi’s room, clinging to the wall like a giant bat, Mansik nervously watched him, hoping Imugi and her soldier would quickly finish whatever they were doing inside so that Chandol would leave soon. After what seemed to be an eternity for Mansik, Chandol was at last sated and came back to Mansik. “I’m going home,” he said. “See you tomorrow at the headquarters. And thanks.”
After he had disappeared beyond the log bridge, Mansik picked up the rolled blanket and returned to the Chestnut House, shivering like an abandoned dog.
Tonight Chandol had not yet showed up. Mansik had no other choice but to wait until all the activities in the Club were over and the bengkos returned to Omaha.
Dozing despite himself, faintly, in his hazy consciousness, Mansik heard somebody, a bengko, burst into laughter. His calves were numb and he waited and waited and he was trudging somewhere across an open field pure white with snow and he had no idea where he was going or where he was now but the river was flowing to his left and he was now sauntering along a sandy shore and the summer sun rays were pouring over the clear blue water but the white snow had drifted ankle deep on the riverbank and he could not see the Three Peaks or anything in that direction because of the whirling snowflakes as big as his fists and two boats with yellow cotton sails sailed up and down the river, up and down, up and down, and he just kept trudging and when he reached a rice paddy dike he trudged on and on along the dike that kept extending by itself in the snowstorm and he crossed a narrow stream and when he reached a vast open field without any house or human trace the snow suddenly stopped and he saw vegetable patches and rice paddies and trees basking in the warm spring sun and he wondered why no human beings lived there. …
He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but he woke up when his hips felt the cold of the frozen ground through the straw. He saw the moon hanging low in the western sky. The white field looked barren. Nothing in sight moved. The laughing noise had stopped in the Club and the night was silent and empty. It must be very late now, he thought. Tucking the blanket around his waist, he glanced over at the Club.
Somebody was there.
Suddenly alerted, Mansik looked more closely. A boy was pressing himself against the wall in the shadow under the eaves, peeping into Imugi’s room. That bastard Chandol is here again, Mansik thought flushing with a sudden burst of anger, but he tried to cool himself down. As long as he could not do anything to remove him, it was best to simply ignore Chandol’s presence. Anger would not help. Let him enjoy himself, he thought.
The light went out in Imugi’s room. Mansik noticed the peeping boy hesitate for a moment by the dark window. Then the boy moved on his tiptoes over to the other room where Mansik’s mother’s light was still on. Chandol peeped in Mother’s room through a chink in the window. That son of a bitch! Mansik sprang to his feet. Chandol was well aware that Mansik was out here and he still went over to the other window to watch his mother. His words were good apparently for only one night! I will kill that son of a bitch, Mansik screamed in his heart, picking up the broken handle of a sickle which had been abandoned by the straw stack. He ran to the boy, gripping the stick firmly in his clenched fist.
Mansik stopped short. The boy who was peeping in Mother’s room was not Chandol. It was Toad.
Kijun flinched, startled, when Mansik poked his side with the stick. He sidled to the wall, staring at Mansik. Mansik gestured for Jun to go over to the pile of straw. Kijun faltered for a moment, glancing at the stick in Mansik’s hand, probably wondering if he should run away. Then he headed for the straw stack, giving up. Mansi
k followed him close behind.
“Stop,” Mansik said.
The two boys faced each other before the straw pile. Mansik glared at Jun without any word. He could not see Jun’s expression clearly in the dark but strangely Toad did not seem to be scared.
“Hasn’t Chandol told you something?” Mansik asked.
“Told me what?” Jun said nonchalantly. “Oh, that. Sure, he told me not to come here.”
“Then you must be prepared for what I’m going to do to you.”
“Well, what exactly is it that you’re going to do to me?” Jun said, stepping back to stay out of Mansik’s reach in case of a sudden unexpected blow. “Are you going to beat me?”
Mansik poked Jun in the stomach with his stick. “What do you think I’ll use this for?” he said.
“You’d better not beat me,” said Jun, somewhat frightened but nonetheless challenging.
Mansik raised the stick to hit him.
“Wait, Mansik. Listen to me before you start something you’ll regret.”
“There’s nothing I want to hear from you.”
Toad said quickly, “I’ll tell your mother if you hit me.”
“Tell my mother what?”
“About the deal you made with Chandol. You’re showing him what’s going on in the Imugi House at night, aren’t you? I’ll tell your mother everything about that if you beat me.”
Mansik halted. Jun was not retreating any more. It seemed Toad had anticipated and been fully prepared for this situation. He was sure of himself.
“As long as you’re showing the rooms to Chandol, why don’t you show them to me as well?” said Jun, stealing a sidelong glance at Mansik’s troubled expression. “I think I will come back to watch the room tomorrow night whether you like it or not. If you refuse to let me, I’ll tell everybody about the deal you made with Chandol. Your mother will hear about it, and Rich Hwang will hear about it, and everybody in the village will hear about it. What do you think will happen to you then?”
Mansik slashed Jun’s shoulder with his stick. Jun staggered, gasping.
“All right, Toad, tell them! Tell them if you want to. You tell anybody about it and I will break every little bone in your fat body.”
Dodging from the lashing stick, Kijun ran away toward the stream. Mansik chased him, beating him, swearing at him, hating him, hating Chandol, hating the world.
When Chandol came to the Imugi House in the early evening of the next day, Mansik was waiting for him, pacing among the scattered sheaves of straw. “On guard duty again?” Chandol joked.
Blocking his way, Mansik said nothing.
“What’s the matter, Mansik? You got something to say to me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Toad was here. Last night.”
“He was?” said Chandol. He sounded a little offended but not very much surprised.
“You promised me you’d stop him from coming here. But he came.”
“I told him not to.”
“I know you did. Toad told me. What went wrong?”
Chandol said nothing for a while, annoyed. He glanced over at the lights of Texas Town as if he was looking for an easy answer there to justify his awkward situation. But instead of giving an answer, he asked, “So what did you do?” Somehow Mansik received the impression Chandol knew precisely what had happened between him and Jun last night. “Did you have a fight?”
“Fight?” Mansik scoffed. “I don’t fight a fat, slow boy like him. I just beat him up.” 1 see.
“Toad seems to know everything about our agreement.”
“I guess he does.”
“How did he find it out?”
“I told him.”
“You told him?”
“Sure. I had to. He demanded an explanation when I told him to stop coming to the Imugi House.” Then he added brusquely, “Anything wrong about that?”
“That bastard Toad dared to threaten me,” Mansik said. “He warned me he’d tell people about the deal I made with you unless I let him watch the room too.”
Chandol said nothing, reflecting.
“We must stop him from telling it to anybody. What should we do?”
“I’ll leave the matter to you,” Chandol said in a casual voice as if this was none of his business.
This time Mansik could not think of anything to say.
Chandol said, “What did you tell him, anyway, when he made that proposition to you?”
“I didn’t tell him much of anything,” Mansik said irritably. “I just beat him up. I told you.”
“Yes. You did.”
“I think he meant it when he said he would come here again to watch the room whether I like it or not.”
“What are you going to do about it? Are you going to beat him up again?”
“Of course. I’ll beat him up every time I catch him snooping around the Club. Until he gives up. And I want you to talk to him once more. Do something to stop him.”
Chandol said quickly. “Maybe you’d better let him watch the room.”
“What?” Mansik said, disbelieving.
“Maybe you’d better let him watch the room,” Chandol repeated.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious, and I want you to give some thought to it. I believe that’s the best and easiest way to settle this whole matter. What difference does it make if you show the room to one more boy, anyway? There won’t be any more trouble if you let him watch Imugi’s room.”
“That filthy scum peeped in my mother’s room too last night,” Mansik said.
“I will make him never watch your mother again. That much I can do for sure. And he knows that you’re coming out here every night to keep an eye on us. He will be careful from now on.”
“I can’t let him come. I don’t want him anywhere around me.”
“But I don’t think you have much choice. What do you think will happen to us if Toad starts talking and people find out about our deal? My mother will kill me if she finds out.”
“So you’d better start thinking, fast, how to take care of Toad.”
“You have to do your own share of worrying, too. After all, you will be in the biggest trouble among us all if this mess blows up. Consider what will happen to you when people find out that you invited us to watch your mother fucking with the bengkos, hoping we’d let you play with us.”
“That’s not true,” Mansik protested angrily. “I never invited you. You started this whole thing.”
“No, Mansik, people won’t think that way. They will believe what Jun and I tell them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If anything goes wrong, that’s the story Jun and I will tell our parents and the villagers. That you came to us and offered to show your mother’s room if we let you play with us again.”
“But that’s a lie.”
“The villagers will think differently.”
Mansik was frightened, sensing something terrible going on. “You’re not going to tell that lie to anybody,” he said uncertainly.
“Don’t be too sure about that.”
Confused, Mansik tried to decide what he had to do. “Why are you doing this to me, anyway? You sound as if you are siding with Toad,” he blurted out.
Chandol stole a glance at Mansik. “To tell you the truth, I cannot help siding with him. Well, you know, he sort of threatened me, too. He said he’d tell my parents that I’m coming here to watch the whores if I don’t let him come with me.”
“And what did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Why didn’t you beat him up half to death so that he couldn t even dream of telling anybody?”
“Well, I did think of punishing him but thought better of it.”
“And what did you think was the better way?”
“As I told you, it won’t make much difference if you allow one more boy to watch.”
“Please, Chandol.” Mansik’s voice suddenly took
on a pleading tone. “Don’t make me do that. I will give you chocolates, chewing gum and other Yankee candies if you want them. I will give you anything I have. Just make him stay away from the Club. I can’t let him come here.”
“Don’t ask me to do what I cannot do for you,” Chandol said. It was obvious that his mind was made up. “Rather, you have to do what we want.”
Mansik stared at him, taking a deep breath; now his mind was made up, too. “All right,” he said. “If you insist, I’d better make my stand clear. I want you to stop coming here as well. I can’t let you come here if you can’t stop Toad.”
“You may get hurt if you try to stop us.”
“I don’t care,” Mansik said. His determination was growing as he talked. “I don’t care what you or anybody in the world may do to me. And I know I can stop you. Somehow.”
Chandol stared at Mansik, thinking. He sighed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll go home and think about this whole thing tonight. You will hear from me soon.”
Chandol turned back and wandered toward the stream, whistling. He’s whistling because he’s afraid but doesn’t want to show it, Mansik thought. Suddenly relieved, he felt the night air cold against his cheeks.
As if to make his point very clear, Chandol brought Kijun with him the next evening. The two boys came directly to where Mansik was on lookout. Mansik understood instantly that a confrontation was inevitable and slowly raised himself, shedding the blanket and grabbing the stick. Chandol stopped before Mansik. Kijun, standing a few paces away, excitedly watched them.
“We came to look into the room,” Chandol said point-blank. “Now, are you going to stop us?”
Mansik attacked him with his stick. Chandol was much faster than Mansik; he dodged the blow and kicked Mansik in the abdomen with both feet at the same time. Mansik fell, covering his groin with his hands. Without giving him a chance, Chandol snatched the stick from Mansik and started beating him on his back and shoulders.
“I told you I’d hurt you,” Chandol said between his clenched teeth.
“I want to beat him, too,” Mansik heard Toad hiss.
“You stay there, Toad, and shut up,” Chandol said, still striking. “I told you I’d hurt you! I told you I’d hurt you!” he repeated to Mansik.
