I never went anywhere near the orchards during the day, only going to visit the girls at night. Each day it became harder to find food for them. Some days we had leftover rice, but often the only thing left after our meals were the newly washed dishes. Sometimes I’d go over to my brother’s house and search out some more sweet potatoes. Other days I’d be reduced to scooping up some fresh beans from the cellar. I’d been taking care of the girls for eight, nine days maybe — not quite ten. It was only the middle of November, but snowflakes had already started to fall from the sky and each day was much colder than the one before.
Before I actually did. what I did, I went home about three or four times. Once, I know, I went by car because I was delivering some food. On my other visits, I probably just took a bicycle. I think it was during my second visit home, around dinnertime or so, as I sat, for the first time in a long while, for a meal that Mother had prepared. Not really thinking anything of it, I said, I don’t see Yosŏp anywhere.
Ha! Tell me about it. Who knows what he’s up to — he goes out practically every night these days.
This may be the boonies, but it’s still not a good idea to be roaming around after dark, especially not now.
I think the boy’s just growing up. He puts away a couple of bowls of rice in no time at all, said Father.
A couple? Ha! It’s a lot more than a couple! Yesterday he came back from one of his evenings out and practically inhaled all the leftovers in this house, said Mother.
Even then, though, I didn’t think much of it. I headed back to our wing behind the main house to see my pregnant wife and my little daughters. I was on my way back out when I saw something dark lurking around the kitchen.
Who’s there?
It’s only me, Big Brother.
It was Yosŏp. Remembering what our parents had said, I thought I’d give him a hard time.
What the hell do you think you’re doing, wandering all over the place these days?
Oh, well, my friends and I, we’ve set up this. clubhouse, and.
A clubhouse? How old are you? You’re such a child! You’ve got no sense at all. Wandering around after dark these days is a good way to get yourself shot. There are no sides anymore — you got that?
Yeah, I got it.
Listen, Yosŏp, when I’m not around, you gotta take care of Mother and Father, especially now that your sister-in-law can’t do everything. Boys barely a couple years older than you are out there right now, fighting, shooting guns. At night, you stay put at home. Understand? Answer me!
Yes. Yes, I will.
Later that same afternoon, there was quite a scene up at the county hall. Ch’oe Pongsu, the leader of the Youth Corps, had called Sangho to his office and was screaming at him. When I walked in, Pongsu immediately started yelling at me as well.
What in the hell is going on here? A member of the Youth Corps covering for a Red? Does that make any sense to you?
Looking from Sangho, who sat there hanging his head, to Pongsu and back again, I asked, What the hell are you talking about?
Oh, so, you didn’t know either? The leader in charge of the northeastern districts has been reported and arrested — he was harboring a female Party member!
As we reached the one-month mark after taking control of the district, the level of official discipline began to crumble. They say it happened because our patriotism had been corrupted. Some of us began to extort property from the Party members, taking their lives as a kind of mortgage, and many of our men started taking advantage of the women. Rape cases became more and more frequent with each passing day, but we all just left each other alone, pretending nothing had happened. I turned to Pongsu.
Commander, are they saying that he acted dishonorably, as well?
I wouldn’t really say dishonorable. she’s a good looking one, a woman teacher, so I guess they probably fell for each other.
A female teacher?
Ah, what did they say her name was. I went down South in ’48, so I don’t know any of these new people.
For the first time, Sangho spoke.
You know her, too. Remember that teacher? Ms. Yun?
Oh, oh yeah, she used to board with the family who ran that store.
I see you comrades know her well. What’s this bitch about, eh?
I’d only ever seen Ms. Yun from a distance, but you could definitely say that she had piqued my interest. Her hair was just long enough to put up in a ponytail and twist around to fall over one shoulder. She would wear a white chŏgori and a black velvet mongdang ch’ima that just covered her knees — very neat and gentle looking. I used to stop and gaze after her for quite a while whenever she happened to pass me on the street, inhaling her city fragrance. She must have used apricot-scented face cream; whenever she walked by I felt as if I were standing in the midst of an orchard.
I know her well enough — we lived in the same village. I believe she’s from Haeju. From what I’ve heard, she’s quite a decent girl—
Pongsu cut in.
According to the report I received, she made a speech at a People’s Rally. Is that correct?
Oh, yeah, that’s right. I remember she read something in the school playground, telling people to volunteer and join the army.
Well, now that everybody knows about it, we can’t just let her go.
What’s going to happen to the commander of the northeastern district? We will have to reinvestigate his dedication to our ideology.
My memory fails me, but I’m pretty sure we never ended up killing him. After all, he was on our side. The commander was, however, under “ideological investigation” for some time, which means he was probably beaten to within an inch of his life by the boys who used to be under his command — it’s likely he ended up a cripple. I do know that the man was dismissed from all official posts. Who knows, maybe he took refuge in the South, going down with the mass retreat. Ms. Yun, on the other hand, was locked up in the storage room of the police station. Later she was transferred to a hot-spring resort run by the government. That was where I eventually helped her to rest for all eternity. It was better for her that way.
Anyway, after hearing the news I went back home for the night. Yosŏp was nowhere to be found, and no one knew where he might have gone. He did, however, show up again around supper time, so our entire family — my parents, my own family, and Yosŏp — we all got a chance to sit down together for a change and enjoy a meal. I decided to leave Yosŏp alone for the time being. After supper, Father and I talked for a while about what was going on with the war, especially on the front lines. Pretty soon after that I retired to our wing. The sun had set but it wasn’t completely dark yet. Just having finished my business in the outhouse next to the fence, I was getting to my feet when I spotted someone walking across the cabbage fields. He was treading recklessly over the furrows, ignoring the tall, densely planted cabbages. He could have walked along the levee path, instead! I guess that’s just how your mind works when you’re a country boy at heart. I yelled at the top of my lungs, Hey you! What do you think you’re doing?
The figure turned towards me, his voice dying away before it had even begun. It was Yosŏp. I walked out past the fence, shouting for him to come over to me. As I got closer, Yosŏp hurriedly hid something behind his back. Peering over his shoulder, I could see that it was some sort of bundle.
Turn around. Let me see. What have you got there?
I snatched up the bundle and opened it. Out came a gourd containing some cooked rice and a little china bowl filled with pickled radish and bean paste.