This Burns My Heart (14 page)

“Stay here with a lunatic? What kind of advice is that?” Soo-Ja asked, unable to hide her anger.

“I talked to my brothers and sisters, too. They’re afraid of offending my parents if I stay with them. So I have nowhere to go,” said Jae-Hwa.

“Stay with
my
parents, then.”

Jae-Hwa shook her head. “Soo-Ja, you know how people treat a separated woman. Nobody will have tea with me or meet my eyes when I walk by them. I would hate to become some kind of pariah.”

Soo-Ja edged closer to Jae-Hwa and reached for her friend’s arms. She had her stretch them out in front of her, and then she pulled the sweater back so she could see her skin. When she did so, Jae-Hwa flinched a little. Her body was covered with purple and green bruises.

“What time does Chul-Moo come back?” Soo-Ja asked.

Before Jae-Hwa could answer, the front gate slammed, and their bodies became instantly taut, like coiled wires. Jae-Hwa’s husband had arrived. He soon slid open the doors to the room and looked at them, still wearing his white cotton mask over his mouth. Soo-Ja saw the frightening might in his eyes, but she wouldn’t let herself be intimidated.

“Say good-bye to your wife. She’s going to stay with my parents for a few days,” said Soo-Ja, speaking politely, but making it clear this would not be a matter of debate.

Behind her, Jae-Hwa reached for a padded comforter and spread it on the floor. She began to put her clothes in the middle of it, leaving enough room so she could later tie up all the edges together.

“Jae-Hwa, come over here and massage my neck,” said Chul-Moo, ignoring Soo-Ja. “It’ll help me go to sleep.” He then began undressing in front of her, pulling off layers until he had on only the sleeping long johns he wore underneath his day clothes.

“Please don’t pretend you didn’t hear me,” said Soo-Ja. She ignored the effrontery of his changing in front of her—she knew he was just trying to unnerve her.

“Go take care of your own husband,
ajumma
,” barked Chul-Moo. “Before he starts wandering around seeding other women’s babies.”

He spread a mat on the floor and lay down, ignoring Jae-Hwa as she packed her things.

“I can assure you she’ll be treated very well at my parents’,” said Soo-Ja drily, unable to hide her contempt as she stared at him. “Since I’m sure you’re very concerned about your wife’s well-being.”

“Jae-Hwa, quit this nonsense and come over here,” said Chul-Moo, ignoring Soo-Ja.

Jae-Hwa shook her head defiantly. But she also began to hesitate as
she knotted the edges of the comforter together, her clothes packed inside but almost too heavy for her to lift. Jae-Hwa rested her hands over the silk cover. She could see an area where the fabric had ripped, revealing the thick, curdled dust fibers that served as padding.

“Jae-Hwa!” Chul-Moo growled again, and Soo-Ja could see the fear rising in Jae-Hwa. His voice sounded like a lion’s, low and guttural. “Wherever you’re thinking of going, they’ll grow tired of you after a while, boring woman that you are who can’t cook, and then you’ll come back here on your knees, begging for me to take you back, and by then I’ll have had such a long rest, my hands will be ready for a spectacularly vicious beating. Better not leave at all and spread out the beating over time, so you can take it little by little instead of a big beating all at once.”

Soo-Ja was ready to tear the few remaining hairs out of his head. “Jae-Hwa deserves better than you. How can you speak to her like that?”

Chul-Moo got up from the mat and pointed a finger at her. “Be careful now. You may be a guest in my house, but guests in my house, they have no rights!”

“And what are you going to do? Are you going to hit me?” asked Soo-Ja as sharply as the edge of a knife, her voice rising with every syllable. “See what the police will say, you hitting another man’s wife!”

Chul-Moo hesitated, though the anger still gleamed in his eyes, and Soo-Ja could feel it sting her like a hot fork.

“Jae-Hwa, can’t you see your friend is envious of what you have?” asked Chul-Moo, sounding much more gentle now. “Yes, I may get angry with you sometimes, but what happens afterward? What happens after you stop crying and I comfort you? Nobody sees that part of things, when you open up to me like a happy flower and giggle. You can tell just by looking at your friend that she doesn’t get the same kind of love from her own husband. She doesn’t want you to be happy, so she comes here to meddle and take you away from the only man you have.”

Jae-Hwa, whose head had been bent down while her husband said this, finally looked up. She seemed wan, weightless, colorless. Soo-Ja knew what would happen if her friend stayed there. She would become
one of those ghost women in the village with dead eyes and hunched shoulders.

“Jae-Hwa,” said Soo-Ja, holding her hand. “There
is
a better life for you. I can’t prove it, you just have to believe me. But there
is
a better life for you. Not everyone is mean. I’ve seen enough beauty and kindness in the world to know that not every man is awful to his wife. I believe there
are
good men out there. Please believe me when I say this.”

Soo-Ja watched Jae-Hwa drop her bundle, and she knew then that her friend wouldn’t be coming to her parents’ house with her. She had failed. She could see from the corners of her eyes Jae-Hwa’s husband’s quiet jubilation, along with a hint of fear, as if he knew how close he’d been to losing his wife that night. But such nuances didn’t matter. Jae-Hwa was staying, and that was the end of it. All Soo-Ja could do was pick up Hana, waiting at her parents’ house, and return home.

Soo-Ja held Jae-Hwa in her arms for one last time, and as their cheeks brushed past each other’s, she could feel the moistness under her own eyes. She wiped them quickly and then nodded, resigned to leaving Jae-Hwa behind. Why did she feel so much sadness for her, when her own life was in shambles, when she herself was not that much better off? Soo-Ja wondered.

Is that the real reason I wanted to save her? So that in saving her, I could see if I could save myself, too? And what did it mean, then, that I have failed?

Soo-Ja rose, her back aching a little from sitting on the floor so long. When she slid open the door and went over to the porch looking for her shoes, she was struck by the coldness of the air, lashing at her from all sides. She realized it was even later than she thought, and the feeling of being out at this hour made the whole moment feel oddly surreal, as if the real Soo-Ja were still sitting at home with Min’s parents, at the house in central Won-dae-don, while this other Soo-Ja wandered around aimlessly, knocking about from place to place.

Soo-Ja had not walked very far when she heard her name being called. It felt unfamiliar to hear it like this, at night, in an anguished voice. She turned around and saw Jae-Hwa standing on the steps of her
house. She stood as still as a pillar, like Lot’s wife, who’d dared to look back. She did not have her coat and seemed to shiver slightly.

“He won’t let me take my clothes with me,” Jae-Hwa finally said, the syllables seeming to escape from her lips one at a time. “He said it’s a waste of energy, since I’m coming back.”

Soo-Ja felt the relief lift her up, and she smiled, extending her hand to Jae-Hwa. Jae-Hwa hesitated, and then slowly began to walk toward her. When Jae-Hwa finally reached her, Soo-Ja took off her own coat and placed it over Jae-Hwa. It would still be a while before they got to Soo-Ja’s parents’ house.

Soo-Ja arrived home to find Min’s silhouette waiting by the door. It struck her then, how boyish and skinny he looked. If she wore a miniskirt and held her hair back with her signature headband, would she look like a teenager, too? Is that what they were, teenagers playing at being adults? Would one day someone—a real couple, wearing heavy coats and wool scarves—come by, thank them for taking care of their child, and haul away Hana and their clothes and marriage license, and would she and Min nod and leave that house and walk in separate directions, like contestants in some radio show who didn’t know each other? Would she be relieved and look back on the whole adventure with fondness, but enjoy her safe, welcome distance from it? Or would she find life without Min and her in-laws unbearably easy, meaningless almost, as her sacrifices had made it possible for her to appreciate the smallest of gifts—like the beloved quiet for a half hour or so in the morning before the house woke and the day lay rich with promise. Or the sight of Hana sleeping peacefully, or any one of a thousand surprises that shook the day—like being able to help a friend who weeps in your arms with gratitude, whispering, “A better life… Yes, a better life for me.”

“You were gone so long,” said Min. “What happened?”

“A lot,” Soo-Ja said simply, slipping past him like a draft of wind, with Hana sleeping in her arms.

“Did you talk to your father?”

It took her a second to realize what he meant. Of course,
Father-in-law must have told Min about his plans. She wondered what Min’s reaction had been. She assumed he had simply gone along with his father’s wishes, as he always did.

“No, I didn’t,” said Soo-Ja curtly. “I didn’t ask for the loan. I didn’t get a chance to. And that’s for the best. I shouldn’t even have considered asking my father for more money.”

Min followed her into their room. He seemed lost in thought. Close like this, he looked different, thought Soo-Ja, wearing a blue sweater with a light yellow vest over it, and pants that ended slightly too short at the ankle, showing his long johns underneath.

“We have to pay back our creditors, Soo-Ja. The situation is very dire. If we don’t pay them back, they’ll take the factory from us,” he said.

Soo-Ja busied herself getting their mats and comforters ready for bed. She avoided Min’s eyes, but she could feel them on her skin, following her around.

“Your father would have plenty of money to pay those creditors if he didn’t mismanage the factory,” she said.

“Yes, my father is horrible and your father is perfect. Are we in a children’s playground? Don’t you get tired of playing this childish game? My father is your father now,” said Min, starting to pace.

“If the factory goes down, you can find a job somewhere else. I can go work in a store, or a restaurant, and ask my mother to watch Hana during the day,” Soo-Ja said matter-of-factly, brushing some stray fibers off a comforter.

“No, Soo-Ja. If we have to shut down the factory, things will be much more serious than my needing money or another job. Do you know what happens to men who default on their loans?” He paused, waiting to catch her gaze. “They go to jail.”

Soo-Ja took this in. “Your father’s been essentially stealing from others, to keep the factory operating. I know he never intended in good faith to pay anyone back.”

It was then that she saw a shadow fall over Min’s face, and she realized something was truly wrong. When he spoke, she could hear the fear in his voice. “Soo-Ja, last month, when the troubles got serious, my
father changed the ownership of the factory… to me. If someone has to go to jail, it’s going to be me.”

Soo-Ja looked at Min, shocked. She thought she didn’t love him, but maybe she was wrong. How else to explain the punch in the gut she felt, the sudden overload of emotions grabbing at her? How could he do this to his own son? And why wasn’t Min fighting him, yelling at him? “Your father is a disgusting man.”

“I’d go to jail for him anyway,” said Min, full of bravado.

Soo-Ja dropped the comforters on the ground. “No, no, you can’t be defending him!”

“What he did makes perfect sense. I’m the oldest; so whatever is his, is mine, too. The good things
and
the bad.”

“But that’s not what he’s done,” Soo-Ja said, shaking her head. “Can’t you see what he’s done?”

“Yes, but I’m trying very hard not to see. He’s my father. I’d rather think what I think and be a fool, than be a man—”

“With a
bastard
for a father,” she said, cutting in.

They were standing face to face, Min fidgeting and Soo-Ja frozen, staring at him. Min did not jump to his father’s defense, and she could see how even he—the most devout of sons—would have trouble explaining this away to his own heart. Min’s father treated Min as if his life belonged to him, to be used or discarded as necessary. And Min never disputed this. She wondered if he, too, believed, deep down, that he was a mere appendage to his father, and his life worth only as much as was of service to the elder.

“Do you want me to ask my father for money?” asked Soo-Ja.

Min looked at her and she saw the hope dance across his eyes. But then only a few seconds later, she saw his pupils darken, and his jaw tighten a little. To her surprise, he shook his head, and in that moment, she saw the most extraordinary event in nature—that of a human being changing. She wondered if a few seconds was all it took to shake up one’s habits and impulses, unearth them like hardened soil, and replace them with the trickling drops of choice and whim, and all those things that made life unbearably complicated. She could see the strain in her
husband, leaving behind one thought and reaching for a new one. She could see him become a different person—or try, at least, as he unstitched his father’s shadow from his back, and checked to see if his own could grow.

“I don’t want you to talk to your father,” said Min. “Before, I wanted you to. I waited for you all night to ask you if you had. But now I don’t want you to anymore. I can’t put you in that position. I can’t use you like that.”

Soo-Ja nodded, feeling waves of tenderness rush at her. “Maybe if you explained to a judge…”

“I can’t challenge my father’s decision. I don’t know how to explain, but… It would be disrespectful.” He looked at her to see if she understood, and she nodded. “See, he can’t know that I know what he’s doing. Because he would lose face. I would be making him look bad, and that would be worse than any jail time. I can’t do that to him.”

Soo-Ja wondered if Min secretly wanted her to speak to her father, but do so out of her own volition, and not at his request. She searched his face for signs of this, but found none, much to her relief. She couldn’t ask her father to do this for her. Father-in-law had lied; it wasn’t a small loan he wanted. As Min explained the details of the bankruptcy, she realized that Father-in-law wanted Soo-Ja’s own father to take up the burden of all the costs of his operations, paying a sum of money so big she was taken aback at first when Min told her.