“Did you take out the contents because it’s time to do so? I’d like to find out what’s there for me because I’ve got to make a living, you know. What’s the use of doing nothing now and then harping about it after his death? What am I supposed to do if I’m shooed away empty-handed?”
“If you knew how big your share is, you’d go to my grandfather and make a fuss despite his upcoming operation, wouldn’t you?”
“And why shouldn’t I? He’d better give me at least five hundred bags. I have to support my baby! No one can imagine how I’ve suffered, coming here at a young age and taking all sorts of abuse, constantly looking over my shoulder. ”
Secretary Ji, returning from the market, came in carrying something in a paper bag. Sending the manservant to the inner quarters with a bush-clover basket, he glanced at the scowling Suwon woman.
“Are you going to the hospital?” he asked her.
“Why do you want to know?” she snapped. It irritated her that Secretary Ji was not on her side; she had to be careful with everything she did around him.
“I found some plump, delicious-looking tangerines at the market, so I bought some for the master, but I have no time to visit him because of all I have to do here,” he said, lifting the bag in his hand. Noticing Deok-gi, who was coming out to the veranda, he added, “I bought them with my own money.”
“It doesn’t matter whose money you used. I’m glad that you bought them,” Deok-gi answered.
“Well, I like to be clear when it comes to money. Anyway, I don’t know whether I can visit the master again today, so — ”
“Don’t worry,” the Suwon woman said sharply, interrupting him. “If the master wants some tangerines, I’ll pick some up for him on my way. Keep them a long, long time and eat them yourself!”
“It’s not as if you’re short of money, but I bought these especially for him!” barked Secretary Ji, usually so mild and polite. “I’ve served him for almost twenty years, and now that I see him hospitalized, I wish I could depart for the other world first.” His eyes blinked behind his eyeglasses. “I’ll wrap these up in a cloth. Peel some for him as soon as you arrive at the hospital. He must be thirsty.” He entered the room without a second glance at the Suwon woman.
Deok-gi felt a pang of emotion. He was grateful to Secretary Ji and took pity on him, letting the words “especially for him” sink in. What would it be like if my grandmother were still alive? Deok-gi wondered.
From inside, standing at the window, Secretary Ji held out, instead of the bag of tangerines, a brownish scarf. “What is this doing here?” he muttered. “It looks like Chang-hun’s scarf. Why would he leave it behind when it’s freezing outside?”
The Suwon woman was stunned at the sight of the scarf. She shouted, “If you’re going to give me the tangerines, wrap them up in a hurry!”
“Did Uncle come here?” Deok-gi asked, noticing how flustered the Suwon woman was, though the question was unnecessary because he had seen Chang-hun’s face buried in the scarf during his visit to the hospital earlier that morning.
“I have no idea.” As soon as she responded, the gate of the outer quarters creaked open, and Chang-hun entered as if on cue. No scarf was covering his frozen chin.
“What’s going on?” he asked, facing the people standing around.
“Where have you been?” Deok-gi asked.
“We have to vacate our home, so I’ve been running all over town trying to find a place. No luck so far. It’s hard to find a monthly rental, even with hundreds of won for a deposit. We’re in big trouble.”
This was news to Deok-gi. “Have you been renting a place?”
“What else can I afford? I wouldn’t mind so much if we were kicked out after winter, but the landlord is a Japanese bastard. He couldn’t care less that at this time of year Koreans face two major expenses — winter kimchi-making and the upcoming New Year’s celebrations.”
“But how can he evict his tenants on New Year’s?” Deok-gi noticed that Chang-hun seemed to have his eyes glued on his grandfather’s money.
“What do Japanese bastards care about our lunar New Year’s?” Chang-hun’s tone toward Deok-gi suddenly sweetened, probably because he remembered that Deok-gi would be the head of the household sooner or later. “I wish your grandfather would let me live in one of his houses. I don’t expect much. If he let me live in a small hut, nothing more, he’d save my life,” he muttered.
“I don’t think my grandfather owns any extra houses.”
“You’re going a step further than your own grandfather. It’s understandable because you’ll soon assume control of the household, but your grandfather has at least five or six houses in Seoul. If you add this house, the Hwagae-dong house, the one at Bungmi Changjeong, and the house in Taepyeong-dong, they’re more than ten. Do you think you know more about these matters than I do?”
Deok-gi brushed off Chang-hun’s claim with a chuckle. “Whatever the case, were you really able to see any houses on the last day of the year?”
“Do you think I’m lying? Why would I? And why would I run around before breakfast in the cold, instead of staying with your grandfather at the hospital? I was going to ask you to take my case to your grandfather, but I can see now that it’s hopeless.”
For the life of him, Deok-gi couldn’t believe a word of what he said.
“What nonsense is this?” Secretary Ji said sarcastically as he came outside with the bag of fruit tightly wrapped in a bundle. “Going around looking at houses on the last day of the year? Was that why you dropped your scarf here, because you had to run around for something so ridiculous?”
“Did I drop my scarf here?” Chang-hun looked uncomfortable.
“If you’d done any more house hunting, you’d have left behind your own neck, now wouldn’t you?” Secretary Ji commented cynically as he stood waiting for the Suwon woman, who had retreated to the inner quarters.
Deok-gi was pleased to see that Secretary Ji had detected something odd as well and said to Chang-hun, “Anyway, please come in. I’d like to ask you to supervise tomorrow’s ancestral ceremony.”
Chang-hun, who had been cowed by Secretary Ji’s sarcasm, seemed to recover his spirits. “You understand, don’t you? Now that your grandfather isn’t here, things have come to this. That’s why you need older folks in the house.” He spoke with confidence, as if he were given a responsibility only he could fulfill. As he entered, he quickly picked up the scarf Secretary Ji had dropped near the doorstep. Chang-hun put it around his neck and hung his hat on the nail in the wall.
When the Suwon woman reappeared, after having taken a look at the groceries brought home from the market for the ritual, Secretary Ji handed her the bag of fruit and sat down across from Chang-hun. He took out a flint pouch to stuff his pipe and was about to light it when he happened to glance outside through the large glass window in front of him. He put down his pipe and clucked his tongue. Deok-gi and Chang-hun turned to take a look and saw that the Suwon woman had torn open the bag of fruit and had given her daughter, who was riding on the nanny’s back, two tangerines; the child had one in each of her hands. Now the Suwon woman was giving one to the nanny.
“Why get angry over such a trifle?” Chang-hun said to Secretary Ji. Chang-hun took out a pack of Pigeon cigarettes and lit one leisurely. Smoking cigarettes, rather than a traditional pipe, seemed incongruous in a man of his years.
“Young people these days don’t know how to show respect for their elders. What’s essential is sincerity.” Secretary Ji hadn’t taken a single tangerine for himself and had sent the entire batch to the old man with a devoted heart, though he had to swallow the water gathering in his mouth. The Suwon woman’s behavior was unconscionable.