When Dr. Park finally came to my house, I invited him to sit and poured him a bowl of rice wine. The low table was already set with side dishes: kimchee, pickled beans, lotus root, boiled squash, sliced black pig, salted damselfish, spiced bracken, and boiled, seasoned, and slivered sea cucumber. Just as we were about to start eating, Joon-lee’s teacher came to the door. Teacher Oh bowed and then made an announcement.
“Your daughter has won an island-wide contest for fifth graders,” he said. “Joon-lee will now represent our side of Mount Halla in an academic competition in Jeju City. This is a great honor.”
Joon-lee jumped to her feet and hopped around the room. Her sister and brother congratulated her. Do-saeng cried happy tears. I couldn’t stop smiling. After Dr. Park said, “The daughter is smart because the mother is smart,” I really couldn’t stop smiling.
I invited Teacher Oh to join us. Space was made for him, and more rice wine was poured. When Dr. Park inquired about the competition, Teacher Oh responded, “Joon-lee is not just a bright girl. She’s the brightest student in our elementary school. The children from schools in Jeju City will have received better opportunities, but I believe she has a good chance of winning the entire competition.”
These words of praise should have humbled my daughter. Instead, they encouraged her to ask, “If I win, Mother, will you buy me a bicycle?”
My answer escaped my mouth too quickly. “Riding a bicycle is not for you. Everyone knows that riding one will give a girl a big butt.”
Dr. Park raised his eyebrows, and my argument didn’t sway Joon-lee one bit. “But if I win,” she said, “don’t you think I should be rewarded?”
Rewarded? Impatience flushed my face. The scientist politely changed the subject. “Did you catch this squid yourself?” he asked. “If so, can you tell me about the drying process?”
After dinner, Wan-soon came to collect my daughters for their nightly walk. Teacher Oh left with them, and Do-saeng returned to the little house, taking Kyung-soo with her. I inquired about Dr. Park’s life in Seoul; he tried to delve deeper into my life as a haenyeo. It all went about as well as could be expected, which is to say fine. He was just leaving when Min-lee burst through the door.
“Mother, come quick!”
I slipped on my sandals and ran after her. Dr. Park trotted behind me. We followed Min-lee to the main square. There in a heap lay Joon-lee, her arms and legs tangled with a bicycle. She was crying softly. Yo-chan crouched over her. Of course. Yo-chan. His bicycle. My daughter. A wave of anger washed over me.
“Get away from her,” I said.
The boy backed off but didn’t leave. I squatted next to Joon-lee.
“I think I broke my arm,” she whimpered.
I started to lift the bicycle. She yelped in pain.
“Here, you steady her arm,” Dr. Park said. “Let the boy and me move the bike.”
He motioned to Yo-chan, who stepped forward. “It’s my fault,” he said.
“Don’t worry about that now,” Dr. Park told him. “Let’s just work together to help her. All right? Are you ready?”
While we pried the bike off Joon-lee, her older sister wept and muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Not far from her, Wan-soon stood with her back against the village tree. She looked as pale as the moon.
“I’ll drive her to the hospital in Jeju City,” Dr. Park said once Joon-lee was free.
“I’m coming too,” I said.
“Naturally. And the others can tag along too if they want,” he said. “There’s room.”
I motioned for Min-lee and Wan-soon to follow us. Before we left the square, I turned back to look at Yo-chan. His head was bent, and his shoulders were hunched.
I hadn’t been to Jeju City’s hospital before. The electric lights glowed brightly. The nurses and doctors were all dressed in white. Joon-lee was put in a wheelchair. “Like Clara,” she said and smiled weakly. Then a nurse pushed her down a hallway and out of sight.
“It’s not a compound fracture,” Dr. Park said. “You can be happy about that.”
I closed my eyes so I could concentrate on finding tranquillity. He couldn’t possibly know how it felt for me to see my little girl hurt and to understand that Mi-ja’s son was somehow involved. What made it worse was that Yo-chan had probably taught Joon-lee how to ride a bike to get to her older sister. All those times Mi-ja and I had dreamed that her son and my daughter would marry one day burned in my chest. Never.
It wasn’t long before the nurse came to the waiting room and took us to see Joon-lee. Her arm was in a plaster cast. Her cheeks were wan. The doctor tried to make sense of our group: a man clearly not from Jeju dressed in Western-style clothes, two sixteen-year-old girls, a younger girl, and me in our persimmon-dyed island pants, tunics, and scarves.
“Joon-lee tells me she comes from a haenyeo family,” the doctor said. “Please be assured that her injury will heal well. She’ll be able to dive with you when the time comes.”
During the drive back to Hado, the emotions in the car were so heavy that it felt as though it were weighted down by rocks. I stared out the window. The streets were nearly deserted, but a few women strolled with their men. Neon lights lit up bars and stalls that served barbecued pork. The city seemed much more modern now, although most of the houses were still made from traditional stone and thatch.
Dr. Park drove as close to my house as he could get. When he turned off the motor and opened his door, I said, “Thank you for your kindness and help, but we can make it the rest of the way ourselves. I’ll see you in the morning at the usual time.”
Joon-lee cradled her arm. Min-lee and Wan-soon walked ahead of us hand in hand. When we reached our house, Wan-soon said, “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll discuss things with your mother tomorrow,” I informed her.
Wan-soon and Min-lee exchanged glances. As Wan-soon padded away, I felt a stab, remembering what it was like to have a friend so close.
When my daughters and I entered our courtyard, we found my son and mother-in-law sitting on the steps of the little house waiting for us.
“Yo-chan came to tell us what happened,” Do-saeng said. “Are you all right, little one?”
“I’m fine,” Joon-lee answered, her voice sounding small and tinny.
“Can Kyung-soo stay with you tonight?” I asked my mother-in-law. “I need to talk to the girls.”
My son jumped to his feet. “But I want to hear—”
His grandmother pulled him back down beside her.
Once my girls and I were in the big house, I addressed Min-lee, keeping my declaration short to see how she’d respond. “You kept a secret from me.”
“It would have stayed a secret too, if Joon-lee hadn’t fallen,” she admitted.
“Are you blaming your little sister?” I asked.
Before Min-lee could reply, Joon-lee said, “We like Yo-chan, and I wanted to learn—”
“We?” I turned back to my older daughter, who turned red to the roots of her hair.
“Joon-lee’s the one who wanted to learn how to ride a bike!” Min-lee exclaimed defensively. “She asked Yo-chan to help her.”
“She’s a child,” I said, “but you’re old enough to know better. When I say no, I mean no. But this goes far beyond a bicycle, does it not? I don’t want you to see Yo-chan again.”