Free From Wonso Pond by Kang Kyong-ae Page B

your mind, don’t you, Ch’otchae?”
    At the word “girl” Ch’otchae’s face flushed and Sonbi’s delicate figure floated before his eyes. Ch’otchae rolled to his side again.
    â€œGood night, Yi Sobang.”
    Knowing that the boy wasn’t ready to talk, Yi Sobang decided to bring up the subject again on another day, and went to sleep.
    Ch’otchae, however, did not sleep a wink. His mind ran in this and that direction all night long. As dawn broke the next morning, he finally sat up in bed, at the sound of a door in the inner room slowly opening. Shit! Another bastard spent the night here, thought Ch’otchae. He
resented to no end what his mother was still doing—despite the fact she now had a full-grown son.
    â€œHave a safe walk back home.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWhen can you come again?”
    â€œWe’ll see.”
    The man whispering to his mother was Yu Sobang, the man who worked for Tokho. And yet, Ch’otchae was actually glad to hear his voice. He jumped to his feet. As he opened the door to the room, Yi Sobang stopped him.
    â€œWhat are you doing up so early?”
    Yi Sobang had gotten out of bed and grabbed the seat of Ch’otchae’s pants. He’d been afraid that Ch’otchae might run out of the room and do something reckless.
    By this time Ch’otchae’s mother had softly shut the gate behind her and was coming back inside.
    â€œMom!”
    Normally Ch’otchae would have still been asleep at this hour, so his voice startled his mother, who stopped short. Afraid he might spring at her in a rage, she took a few steps back unsteadily.
    Yi Sobang did not know how to ease the tension between mother and son, but he stood there trying to think of something. Ch’otchae, meanwhile, glared at his mother through the door, but without saying a single word slammed it shut and collapsed onto the floor. Only now could Yi Sobang sit down too.

23
    Okchom had followed Sinch’ol to MonggÅ­mp’o for a vacation on the beach, then brought him back home for a proper visit. And although Sinch’ol had been planning to catch the morning train bound for Seoul today, Okchom’s powers of persuasion continued to pay off—at least in her mind—for she’d once again managed to keep Sinch’ol from leaving. But it was less on account of Okchom’s charms than in response to Tokho’s adamant protestations that Sinch’ol had agreed to delay his departure. Truth be told, there was also something else about this household that had, for reasons beyond his control, made it difficult for Sinch’ol to leave.

    It had not been a simple matter of staying as a guest in someone’s house for a single day or two—indeed, he had been there for over a month already. And it was only because of his guilty conscience that he had originally decided to go back to Seoul. But Okchom was beaming now, and her eyes soaked in Sinch’ol’s masculine physique.
    â€œShall we walk to the melon hut?”
    â€œ Well . . . Maybe it’s not such a good idea for us to go alone.”
    â€œWell, then,” replied Okchom, “who would you like to come with us?”
    Okchom’s powerful gaze seemed to penetrate right through him; he averted his eyes ever so slightly.
    â€œYour father or mother. Either would be fine.”
    â€œAre you serious, Sinch’ol?”
    â€œWell, won’t it be a little boring for us to go off alone into the countryside—it’s the middle of nowhere!”
    â€œYou know, you’re absolutely right. Shall I ask mother to join us?”
    â€œI’ll let you decide.”
    Okchom sprang to her feet with a giggle and crossed to the inner room. Sitting in front of his desk, Sinch’ol looked at his face reflected in the small standing mirror placed upon it, and then glanced out the window absentmindedly. There in his line of vision appeared Sonbi,