Ma, have we got anything to eat?
Mother turned around to glance in my direction as I stood on the threshold of the kitchen.
Listen, these days we’re lucky to have three square meals a day. I’m making lunch soon. Why don’t you go inside and wait?
Instead of responding I just rushed around the stone fence and went over to the separate wing that stood behind the main house. Sister-in-law was in the last month of her pregnancy, so she spent most her time lying in her bedroom. I opened her kitchen door quietly, crept inside, and lifted the lid of the big cauldron. It was still warm, and inside was a big bowl covered with a piece of hemp cloth. Lifting up the cloth, I saw that the bowl was full of steamed sweet potatoes. Sister-in-law had probably steamed them for my little nieces to snack on. I took the bowl, hemp cloth and all, and got out of there. Shooting out of the house like an arrow, I checked to see that no one was watching and made a run for the hills. When I got to the ravine, I picked my way up through the rocks, thinking to myself again that the place really wasn’t a very good hideout. When everything was said and done, they just really needed to move someplace more suitable. I began to sing.
This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
all nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought
of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; His hand the wonders wrought.
I made my way back to the same spot, but when I got there the girls were nowhere to be seen — I searched all over, pushing aside the bigger branches and straining to see past the smaller trees. Finally, I let loose a great shout into the empty air.
Girls! Big Sisters! Where did you go?
Hush! We’re right here!
Kang’s face appeared from behind a big boulder, and then Hong rose up from a patch of clover bushes, much farther up the hill. As one climbed down the rock and the other walked out through the branches, I could hear them talking.
He wasn’t followed, was he?
He’s alone. I’ve been watching him.
Proudly, I offered them the bowl, still covered with the hemp cloth. Then, like it was some fantastic magic trick, I snatched the cover off with a flourish.
Help yourselves!
Wow! Sweet potatoes!
I sat a little bit apart from them, watching them with a distinct sense of satisfaction as they clutched the sweet potatoes in their hands and began stuffing their faces. A little belatedly, Kang turned to Hong.
Slow down, Big Sister, or you’ll get indigestion!
Hong laughed out loud. Then, as her eyes met mine, she awkwardly held the half-eaten sweet potato out to me, still smiling broadly.
Yosŏp, you should have some of this, too.
It’s okay. I’m going home for lunch soon — we’re having rice.
Then, feeling a bit guilty about my thoughtless reply, I added, We should move out of here tonight. I’ll bring you some rice too, later this evening.
After they’d finished eating, the two girls cupped their hands and drank from the mountain stream. For the first time, they both looked comfortable and lighthearted. Kang brought out the black leather case that she had left lying under the trees. I was expecting it to be full of guns, or at least something in that general category. Instead, she opened the case in a way that looked as if she were splitting it in two and took out a violin — something I’d only seen in pictures until then.
I had an accordion myself, but I lost it on the day I hurt my leg, Hong volunteered.
Yes, but you still sing very well, Big Sister, Kang said, bracing the violin against her shoulder and pressing down on it with her chin.
Are you Christian, Yosŏp?
Yes. I’m going to go to a seminary when I get older. Do you go to church?
I went to Bible school one summer — a long time ago.
With that, Kang applied the bow to the strings and began to play. The first song she played was the hymn I’d sung as I climbed up the side of the ravine. Unlike my voice, which had only just begun to change and so was wrought with unexpected squeaks and cracks, the fragile sound of the violin, trembling as the notes went lower and lower, touched me deeply.
Please, play something else. Just one more.
Kang and Hong thought together for a moment. Kang spoke first.
What about “Touch-me-nots”? That’s one of my favorites.
Kang began to play, and Hong, her voice rather low and quite deep, sang.
Inside the wall, touch-me-nots bloom.
Standing there, so melancholy,
Endlessly long, hot summer days,
Always you bloomed so gorgeously,
Beautiful maids, maids pure and true,
Once smiled and played, welcoming you.
The violin seemed to sob more than ever at the crescendo, and the song’s melody left me with a long, lingering aftertaste. My face burned, my throat soared, and, out of the blue, tears gushed out of my eyes. Sniffling, I wiped my face with my sleeve. Ah, suddenly, an entirely different world was opening before my eyes. Each of us must have been deep in our own thoughts; no one said a word. After a long silence, I asked them, What kind of soldier carries music instead of guns?
Well, you see, we’re members of the Cultural Enrichment Corps. We go around from troop to troop and perform for them to cheer them up.
It occurred to me that these girls probably hadn’t done a single thing to be ashamed of in this war. I was capable of making judgments, too, just like my big brother and his friends. I resolved then and there to protect those girls.
As soon as it got dark that night, I crept out of the house with a blanket and a basket of cooked rice. I led the girls down the ravine, taking them across the fields and into the orchard. The place was packed with the gnarled, twisty branches of the naked apple trees. I had a specific spot in mind — we’d used the place to set up the headquarters of our gang when we were little kids. It was a mud cellar, about six feet deep and roofed with thatched straw, set into the sunny side of the small hill at the far end of the orchard.
When we got there we lifted the straw cover aside and looked down inside. It was pitch black and impossible to see into, but a soft, warm earthy scent wafted up from inside. I took some matches out of my pocket and kindled a little resinous knot of wood from a pine tree, something we used a lot those days when candles were hard to come by. The whole cellar lit up. Tiny saplings, about as thick around as a finger, had been planted densely all over the room. In one corner there was a sprinkler, a small hoe, a shovel, and a bucket, all next to a stack of hay. I spread the blanket over the haystack. It looked spacious enough for two people to lie down. Sitting on the haystack, Kang Miae and Hong Chŏngsuk polished off the food — all I could find to bring them was some cold cooked rice and a bowl of kimchi. Reaching into their military jackets, they each took out a stumpy looking spoon, rubbed it a couple of times on their sleeves, and got down to business. They were the same kind of spoons we used in regular households, but their long handles had been cut in half to make them more portable.
Picking up a bucket, I went out to get some water. I walked down to the entrance of the orchard, where the trail cutting through the fruit trees met with the main road leading into the village. There, left over from the Japanese occupation, stood a run-down clapboard warehouse used for storing fruit. There was a water pump in front of the warehouse. I pumped water out into the bucket, together with a racket of rusty, squeaky noises. On the way back, carrying the bucketful of water, my heart began to grow warm. I had taken a great fancy to Kang Miae, so small and slender, just like a little girl. I believe it began at first sight.