He stared at the river, immersed in deep thought.
“However, I have a passion that is better than my musical talents,” said Seok Chun, reassuring himself. “Being a lathe operator. It’s truly rewarding, and like the sound of the rapids, it, too, has a melodic tune. I just need someone who will play that tune with me. Comrade, do you know what I’m talking about?”
“I do.”
“Sun Hee, will you come with me on that journey?”
“Yes, I will.”
“So, you will marry me?”
“Yes.” Sun Hee nodded her head. She answered as if she had already been thinking about this matter for some time. Seok Chun’s soul was filled with ecstasy.
“Thank you!” he shouted.
He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. The crescent moon was not bright enough for him to see its reflection in her eyes, but he realized that her eyes this evening glowed brighter than before, different from the timid eyes he had seen many nights ago. Her soft eyes indicated a quiet promise of love and hope for the coming days.
“We got married two months later,” said Seok Chun. He tried to smoke his cigarette, but it had already been snuffed out.
Judge Jeong Jin Wu lit a match. Though it was a long story, it was engaging, not quite what he had expected. Jeong Jin Wu had never planned on writing down the entire story on the divorce petition; he simply wanted to know the couple’s past in order to explain their current life, emotions, behavior, and opinions of each other.
Seok Chun lit another cigarette and smoked it out of distress. He unconsciously let the cigarette burn to the filter before putting it out.
“Our married life was happy, like other newlyweds,” continued Seok Chun.
No words could express Seok Chun’s elation. He arranged a place in the city where he and Sun Hee could start their new lives as a married couple. He helped Sun Hee land a job as a lathe operator among the thousands of workers at his factory in Gang An. Rumors of Sun Hee spread throughout the factory. Seok Chun was unabashedly proud of his beautiful and talented wife.
Not long after she settled into her new surroundings, Sun Hee joined the Factory Arts Troupe, which desperately needed a talented singer. Whenever she finished rehearsing for upcoming performances and returned to the factory for the night shift, her coworkers would tell her to go home and rest. She had become the pride of the factory, and they thought it was more important that she sing than operate the lathe.
The days had passed like the cool rapids.
A son was born after they had been married two years.
One evening, Sun Hee returned from work with signs of irritation and dissatisfaction on her face. The couple sat across from each other at the dinner table in utter silence.
Seok Chun perceived that something was troubling his wife, but he did not inquire into the matter. He knew, after two years of being married to her, that Sun Hee was a strong-willed woman, insistent on resolving her own problems. She hardly ever spoke about her troubles or turned to him for help.
In the course of several months, the couple’s conversations had become more infrequent, but Seok Chun could not identify the source of Sun Hee’s change in attitude. He decided to wait for her to open up to him and initiate a conversation. Besides, he did not think much of it nor consider the possibility of marital problems between the two of them because Sun Hee continued doing the things she had been doing—washing his clothes, ironing his trousers, selecting his clothes every morning, and even tying his necktie for him. She did these not because they were the mandated duties of a housewife but because she had a quiet ambition to make her husband stand out, appear dignified, be respected among the ordinary factory workers. While Seok Chun appreciated her efforts, he preferred to live a simpler life, devoid of pretension and snobbery.
After dinner, Sun Hee put little Ho Nam to bed and then studied her new music sheets.
Seok Chun retired to his desk in the master bedroom to review the blueprints that he had started at work. It was not an actual blueprint but a sketch of his new lathe machine that was clumsily drawn on drafting paper. The other technicians and engineers at the factory had expressed difficulty understanding his sketches because the inconsistent configurations, proportions and scales, axes, and symmetry failed to conform to basic principles of engineering and design. Only Seok Chun understood his diagrams. He had never received proper training or education in engineering; experience was his teacher.
Sun Hee put her music sheets down for the evening and got ready for bed. She loosened her hair, which had been tied up all day, and curled up underneath the blanket.
“Um, honey,” Sun Hee called, breaking the silence.
Sun Hee didn’t speak, instead counting the ticks of the clock that hung on the wall. Seok Chun was pleased to hear Sun Hee taking the initiative in starting a conversation with him, something that had been lacking between the two for many days. And yet, Seok Chun’s brusque personality overpowered his intention to respond gently.
“Well, hurry up and speak,” urged Seok Chun without lifting his eyes from his sketches.
“Um, don’t you think it’s strange that both of us work in the same department?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…”
“Did someone say something to you?”
“No, I was just thinking to myself how strange it is,” muttered Sun Hee.
Seok Chun sensed that something had been bothering her and that she had been thinking about this issue for quite some time.
Seok Chun asked, “So what’s really on your mind?”
“I… thought about… quitting the lathe,” stuttered Sun Hee.
“Is it difficult?”
“That, too. But I really want to be a singer…”
“You already sing for the Factory Arts Troupe. Isn’t that enough?”
Seok Chun spat out his words without thinking and realized that he may have been insensitive to Sun Hee’s concerns, especially when a moment like this was rare between them. He knew that she had always wanted to be a professional singer and that they would talk about this matter one day, but he did not expect this discussion to come so soon, particularly when she had worked at the factory for only a couple of years.
Seok Chun tossed and turned in bed that night, thinking about what she had said and even feeling a little sorry for her. He had often worried about Sun Hee having to work alongside other men on the lathe machine day after day, night after night. He realized he had not considered her aspirations and the opportunities that awaited her. He had been complacent because she sang for an amateur group. After all, he thought, she was already doing something she liked to do, and he further rationalized that people did not attain their dreams just because they had them. But he also thought that a professional singing career at the Provincial Performing Arts Company would be an admirable occupation, a real dream come true for her.
Fortunately, Seok Chun no longer had to worry about Sun Hee’s occupational problem; officials at the factory took the initiative to recommend her to the Provincial Performing Arts Company. They felt she was better suited to the performing world than the industrial world.
Seok Chun was overjoyed for her, not only because she had achieved her desires but also because he hoped her exhilaration would rekindle the fading embers of their love and restore the family stability of the early days of their marriage.
As soon as Sun Hee started working at the Provincial Performing Arts Company, her face glowed with happiness as she ascended from misery to ecstasy. When she returned home from work, she would bring up conversational topics with Seok Chun that she would not have broached before—asking about his new project, the people she had worked with at the factory, and other trivial matters. Seok Chun was happy for Sun Hee and pleased with the restored harmony at home.