Both mother and daughter were ebullient.
Won-sam and his wife entered just then, as if they’d been summoned.
After exchanging greetings with Pil-sun and her mother, Won-sam announced that Secretary Ji and Chang-hun had been let go.
“The outer quarters’ man is out?” Deok-gi asked. “How’s his health?”
“Well, he is one strong man. He said there wasn’t much difference between jail and the outer quarters, except it was a little colder in jail,” Won-sam chortled.
“Perhaps he was treated better because of his age,” Pil-sun’s mother said, gazing at her daughter. She herself had been tortured during the March 1, 1919 incident.
“What’s going on with the shop?” Won-sam asked.
“I went there a few times. I brought back some vegetables to eat, but it’s still shut down.”
“Should I open it tomorrow?”
“Well. ” Pil-sun’s mother looked to Deok-gi. She wasn’t sure what to do, with Byeong-hwa not there and her husband seriously ill.
“Can you manage it yourself?” Deok-gi asked Won-sam.
“Anyone can go to the market to pick out items and sell them as long as there’s money. I have enough experience by now.”
“How about letting him open the store tomorrow?” Deok-gi asked Pil-sun’s mother.
“That’d be splendid. My daughter can’t rest well here anyway. ” She seemed pleased and informed Deok-gi that she had been keeping Byeong-hwa’s money.
“Then you and your wife can look after Pil-sun until her father is discharged from the hospital,” Deok-gi said to Won-sam. “In fact, why don’t you move into the back of the store?”
“What do you mean, ‘look after me’?” Pil-sun objected.
Won-sam felt flattered to be entrusted with the responsibility, while his wife’s mind leapt to the possibility that Pil-sun might become Deok-gi’s concubine. She cared for the young lady as if she were her own daughter, so she had no objection to minding her until she recovered from her recent ordeal.
Deok-gi thought he would ask Kimura to arrange a meeting with the Judiciary Police chief. Deok-gi visited the Judiciary Police chief’s house three times over the next few days, but the chief gave no reassurance, saying only, “The problem lies in the seriousness of impersonating police officers. ” And Sang-hun was their mastermind.
Nevertheless, Sang-hun was released several days later.
Sang-hun came alone to receive bows from his children, since he realized it would be awkward for them to visit the Hwagae-dong house.
Deok-gi was in the main room when his father arrived. He rushed down to the yard and prostrated himself in a bow, as Sang-hun’s daughter-in-law, daughter, and others hurried into the yard, too. His wife remained in the main room with her grandson on her lap. She was still furious at her husband’s deception and at herself for having expressed concern for him. She could barely contain her wrath. How can he be so brazen as to come here to see his children? Does he still think he is the family elder?
Sang-hun’s children urged him to enter the main room, but he preferred to sit on the veranda. “I can’t stay long.”
“Your mother says I was wrong, but you realize that you neglected me more than your grandfather did, not letting me spend a penny as I wished. They attacked me for coming over here with phony police officers, but the actual police wouldn’t grant me an interview with you when I needed the key, and it was impossible to know when you’d be released. I was in a bind. Why shouldn’t I use the family money? Everything would’ve been fine if the rice refinery would have paid up, but the bastards made one excuse after another and wouldn’t let me touch even a hundred won. Then, I came here, but your mother wouldn’t let me near the small safe. So I brought someone who could open it. I didn’t invite a thief into the house. The bankbooks were nowhere to be found. But I wasn’t going to spend all the money. I’d honed in on a good business opportunity; the seed money would be recovered in a month or two if I bought into it, and the next day I had to sign a contract, so what else could I do? If your mother had behaved like a decent wife, I wouldn’t have had to go through this humiliation.”
An audible snort came from the main room. “Now I’ve heard everything! You were thrown in the slammer because I’m an awful wife. You don’t have the slightest that you’re out of prison thanks to your son. Without him, you’d still be locked up tight with all the other jailbirds — and I bet you’d have your new wife to thank for that!”
“Mother, please stop.” Deok-gi tried leading his father to the outer quarters. He asked his wife to bring out a wine tray right away, hoping to prevent a scene any way he could. He grieved for his father and did not want him to feel more humiliated than he already was.
“I’ll go. I just hope you’ll take good care of everything from now on!” His father rose despondently.
“It’s so cold. Please stay a moment more.”
Without another word, the father turned to leave.
“Go and call a rickshaw,” Deok-gi ordered a servant.
“I’ll just catch one on my way out.”
Deok-gi watched his father walk away, shoulders hunched, deflated.
The next day, a Sunday, Deok-gi called on Kimura to express his gratitude for releasing his father and to inquire about the release of the Suwon woman, Byeong-hwa, Gyeong-ae, and her mother. His exams were over and graduation was around the corner, but he thought he’d better wrap up affairs at home before leaving.
“That’ll be difficult,” Kimura explained when Byeong-hwa’s name was raised. “Hong Gyeong-ae and her mother can be released, but the situation has become worse for Byeong-hwa because of what happened to Jang Hun.” Then he added, “If it were proved that he has nothing to do with Jang Hun’s faction, he wouldn’t be prosecuted.”
Deok-gi insisted that Byeong-hwa had nothing to do with Jang Hun and explained that Pil-sun’s father, beaten by Jang Hun’s followers, was hovering between life and death at the hospital. He then went on to describe Byeong-hwa’s relationship with Pil-sun’s family. Kimura seemed to take what Deok-gi said seriously.
When the Suwon woman’s name came up, however, he was dismissive. “Her case is not in my jurisdiction, but from what I’ve heard, she’s trouble. When she first came to live at your house, she was part of a conspiracy with that Choe fellow.”
Kimura knew everything. Deok-gi was speechless. But out of respect for his grandfather, Deok-gi felt responsible for her, even if it might require some money to free her.
After he said good-bye to Kimura, Deok-gi went to Hyoja-dong to relay the good news and to see Pil-sun. Pil-sun greeted him near the shop. She appeared stronger, walking more steadily than she had a few days earlier, but was on the verge of tears.
“What’s wrong? Is your father worse?”
“They just called. He’s taken a turn for the worse.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Let’s go quickly.” Deok-gi led the way.
“Please don’t come with me. You must be busy. I’ll go by myself.”
They passed Chuseongmun on their way toward Samcheong-dong.
“My father spent half of his life in prison and then was nearly beaten to death. Why is life so unfair?” asked Pil-sun, crying, as they passed the spot where her father had been attacked.
Deok-gi paused before replying. Then, with regret in his voice, he said, “In a world like this, that was the only way for him to live with an uncorrupted spirit, with a clear conscience. Society is to blame for his grief, because it is without discipline or structure. It was an unfortunate, useless sacrifice that can’t be undone.”
When they arrived at the hospital, Deok-gi sensed that Pil-sun’s father had only hours to live. Judging from his experience with his grandfather’s death and by the way his eyes were glazed over, Deok-gi knew it wouldn’t be long. Still, the father was conscious and glad to see his daughter. He recognized Deok-gi as well.