In our village, too, the men who’d been to town established a branch of the Youth Corps. The whole thing was organized by the township. The guys set up a sentry post on the street and on the pass over the hill, and they made their rounds every night, going from neighborhood to neighborhood. Big Brother Yohan stayed mostly in town, coming home to visit once every couple of days. Once, in a car, he brought home a huge slab of uncut beef, saying they’d slaughtered a cow. Our family invited all the men from the Youth Corps, and everyone made a huge fuss as if it was some sort of festival day.
Just like any other winter, I went to play up in the mountains with Sunho and the other kids. We’d set traps along the ridge or wander around, looking for sparrows to catch with our nets. Sometimes we might even find a gray mountain hare caught in one of our traps. It was around the beginning of November, I think. As soon as I got up that morning, I set out for the mountain as usual to check my traps. We set them in three different places, so by the time I finished checking all of them I would get pretty hungry. The last trap was up at the very top of the ravine, so I made my way up the steep mountain path, picking my way through the rocks. The stream that ran through the ravine hadn’t frozen over yet, and right next to my last trap there was still a little pool of water — it was the kind of place an animal might come to drink. Sometimes Sunho actually put as many as three of his traps around the pool, hoping we might get really lucky and catch a raccoon dog or a roe deer. Our traps were made out of bent wire, and we used sweet potatoes as bait, scattering barley or beans nearby.
Done checking my traps, I was turning away when I just happened to glance up into the deep forest behind the pool. There were people there. The first thing that registered was their shoes. Like Japanese jikatabi, they were cloth shoes that came up to the ankles. Every child knew that these were combat shoes, the kind worn by soldiers of the People’s Army. My eyes fumbled slowly past the shoes to discover two soldiers asleep in an embrace. One had a cap on so I couldn’t make out any facial features, but the other was a woman for sure — her bobbed hair spilled out across the grass. Lying beside them was a black leather case. It was only much later on that I learned all it held was a violin. I turned around, about to run away, when suddenly, with a resounding “Who’s there?” something jumped on me from behind, forcing me to the ground. In an instant I was flat against the earth, the soldier sitting astride my back and pressing down on the back of my neck.
You — who are you?
It was a woman’s voice. I could hear another woman call from behind, Stand him up. Let’s have a look.
The woman who’d been sitting on my back got to her feet, still holding on to the back of my neck. I sat up, brushing the dirt off my clothes. Both women were soldiers of the People’s Army. They wore the yellowish brown army uniform with the wide insignia on the shoulder and the baggy army trousers. Their lips were blue from the cold, and the stitching along their shoulders and the material around their knees were torn. Neither of them appeared to be armed. They were probably around high school age. Now that I’d sized them up, I found myself gaining a bit of confidence. After all, what could these girls possibly do to me, I began thinking. One of the two was small in stature and very thin — she would be, at most, two years or so older than myself. The other one, though, with her thick wrists and sturdy shoulders, might have been able to pass for something closer to twenty. Whatever the case, they both had twinkling black eyes, and it struck me that I hadn’t ever seen such pretty girls in my village or anywhere nearby. The big one spoke.
Where do you live? Why did you come here?
I live down in the village. I’m here to check my rabbit traps.
They looked at each other for a moment, then the big one spoke again.
Did you come alone?
Yes, today I did.
Are there security agencies in your village, too?
I knew only too well what they were afraid of.
Sure. There’s a sentry box at every alley.
The big one grimaced. Responding to the frown, the little one hurriedly pulled up her companion’s torn pant leg and checked her feet. The big one’s ankle looked awfully swollen.
Is it hurting again?
Yeah. I think I twisted it again trying to catch him.
Well, what do we do now? Where can we go from here?
There was a short silence. I was the first to speak.
Where are you from?
The South.
It was the little one who replied. The big one got up, broke a branch off a tree, and snapped off the twigs. Using it as a walking stick, she tried taking a few steps before she flopped back down on the ground.
Oh man, just taking a step hurts like crazy.
You know, this place — it’s dangerous during the day. People come here for firewood, and for walks, too.
Oh! Really?
There’s an orchard a little farther down. No one goes near there until spring rolls around.
The little one looked at me.
What’s your name. student? You’re a student, aren’t you?
Yes. I’m in middle school — it’s my first year. My name is Ryu Yosŏp.
She put one hand on her chest.
I’m Kang Miae, and her name is.
The big one, smiling for the first time, said a bit shyly, Hong Chŏngsuk.
Yosŏp, you won’t report us, will you?
Inform? No.
Why not?
I don’t like people getting killed. Did you sleep here last night?
We’ve been here since the day before yesterday.
And you haven’t eaten anything?
Acting tough like a man, Hong replied, Just water. That’s why we were trying to stay near the stream.
You must be hungry. I’ll go home and bring you back some food.
The two women hesitated for a moment and exchanged looks. Her face contorting anxiously, Kang Miae asked, Would that be. safe? If you’re caught by a grown-up, you’ll get in big trouble.
Are you afraid I might go down and report you?
It was Hong who answered.
No. We trust you, Yosŏp. Ah, do you like. singing?
Singing?
Later, when you come back for us — what song will you sing?
Let me see. do you know this song? This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears.
I then hummed the first bar. Kang’s response was immediate.
Oh, that’s a hymn. All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
Promising them that I would be back with some food, I came back down the ravine. I was to start singing at the bottom of the hill when I returned and keep it up all the way to the top. At home I found both my parents, on this day of all days, going about their business in the main wing of the house. Of all places my mother could have been, she was bustling around in the kitchen, breaking dry twigs in front of the fireplace to use later when she cooked lunch.