Free Silver Stallion by Junghyo Ahn

The soldier smelled of burnt fur and damp. Kneeling on the ground, the boy blankly looked up at the black soldier, who smirked, his teeth and eyes flashing white in the moonlight. Although he had on the same green uniform as other liberators, this black bengko had a flat nose with cavernous nostrils. Mansik had never seen such porky thick lips. The black man strode to the chestnut tree and joined the other Yankee waiting there. The two men whispered something to each other and walked away along the road stretching to Castle village.
    When the soldiers were gone, Mansik raised himself with a painful grunt and staggered into the house. He heard Nanhi sucking the candy bar in the dark. Otherwise it was deadly silent.
    â€œMother,” he called.
    Ollye did not answer.
    He saw the faint shape of his mother, half naked, lying on the floor.
    â€œMother, are you all right?”
    She still did not answer.
    Mansik fumbled about the lamp stand to find the match box. He struck a match and lit the kerosene lamp. He saw his mother. She was lying there, limp like a corpse, her mouth agape and her eyes dazed in disbelief. Her hair was disheveled like a woman who has just had a violent fight with a neighbor. She did not even attempt to hide the dark bushy hair exposed between her open thighs.
    â€œMother, what happened?”
    She gazed up, dumbfounded, her breasts showing under her torn shirt. Nanhi was lying beside the spilled pile of rice, sucking at her candy bar.
    â€œPut out the light, Mansik,” Ollye said weakly.

FOUR

    â€œJ un! Jun! Wake up!”
    It was long past midnight and Kijun, only half awake, wondered why his uncle had come to see him at this late hour. Kijun did not answer because he was too sleepy to say anything and because he would have had to wake up if he answered.
    â€œBrother! Brother!” Uncle called Kijun’s father, his voice still a muffled whisper but a little louder.
    Annoyed by the untimely visitor, Father coughed twice to express his intention to rise and go out to see his brother. Kijun decided to go back to sleep.
    Kijun heard his father say, “What on earth is up? Don’t you know what time it is?”
    â€œDon’t talk so loud and come on out here. I’ve got something to tell you.”
    Grumbling, he stepped down to the yard. The door slammed shut, and the two men went into the shadow under the eaves outside the children’s room. Kijun was suddenly alert.
    â€œIs your wife all right?” Uncle said.
    â€œOf course she is. What kind of a question is that?” Father said, irritated.
    â€œSo she is safe. Your wife, I mean.”
    â€œSure. What’s the matter with you, anyway?”
    â€œMaybe the bengkos didn’t notice your house back here. They must have passed by along the road.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about? What bengkos?”
    â€œTwo Yankees came to the village tonight, and I have a suspicion about their intentions.”
    As his uncle went on buzzing just outside the room, Kijun became absorbed in the story. He quietly crawled toward the door to overhear the whispered conversation better. He had to trample on his four younger siblings to reach the door, for the room was crowded not only with the five children but with the sacks of potatoes that were kept indoors at night lest wild animals should come down from the mountains and steal them.
    â€œTwo bengkos came to my house earlier tonight,” Uncle said. “I woke up because Brownie barked so I looked out the window to see what was wrong with the dog. I saw a white bengko standing by the twig gate, searching for something with a flashing stick lamp, and another bengko, a black one, trying to drive away the dog with his rifle. They wanted to come into my house, and I thought I knew what they were after. So I woke up the whole family and we crashed through the bush-clover fence behind the house to escape to the woods. But we didn’t have to run too far. The dog