Sea of Mud
Deok-gi headed out to take a look at Byeong-hwa’s store. He had been in seclusion since his grandfather’s funeral, and it had been quite a while since his last outing. In addition to having to serve as head mourner, he was busy examining household accounts and had had little opportunity for excursions during the first few days of the new year.
As his streetcar neared Hyoja-dong, he got up from his seat and studied the Japanese stores that had sprouted up along the street since the 1929 Joseon Fair. He got off the car and walked down the street, examining one store after another, but the Sanhaejin signboard was nowhere in sight. He peered through a glass door underneath a sign that read Satoh Store and caught sight of fruits, leeks, and watercress. They sold cigarettes, too. Figuring he’d ask for directions to Sanhaejin while buying a pack, he slid open the door, and a shop girl came out, beaming. Deok-gi, startled, almost took a step back. It was Pil-sun. The girl, her face blushing pink and heart pounding, didn’t know what to do.
“I had no idea I’d find you here,” said Deok-gi as he entered. “Is Kim here?”
“He’s not, but please take a seat. I think he’ll be back soon.”
The creaky low desk Deok-gi had seen in Byeong-hwa’s room and a cushion near a brazier were all the furnishings in the small back room covered with tatami mats.
Looking around the store from its threshold, Deok-gi asked, “Did he go out for a delivery?”
“No, he went to Seodaemun Prison. He should be back soon.” Pil-sun scrambled to tidy the room and offered him a cushion to sit on.
“Why did he go there?”
“To see people who were imprisoned some time ago and to bring them meals. It’s been a while since he left, so he really should be back soon.”
Pil-sun was afraid that Deok-gi might decide to leave. She wanted to express her condolences but didn’t know how.
Deok-gi was relieved that Byeong-hwa was doing well enough to provide meals for his friends in prison and thought it was generous of him to do so after his own situation had improved.
“Tell me about the signboard — ‘Satoh.’ Did he buy a Japanese store?”
The question took Pil-sun aback. Byeong-hwa had implied that the money for the store had come from Deok-gi, but he seemed to know nothing about it. She knew that Pi-hyeok had left behind a bundle of money that he entrusted to Byeong-hwa, and she had guessed that this was how Byeong-hwa could acquire the store, but he had denied it vehemently.
“It’s the name of the former owner, but I’m told we’ll keep it for a while so as not to lose the regular customers.”
Deok-gi agreed that this was a good idea. But where did the money come from?
While they were talking, they noticed two young men in shabby Western suits peering into the store from a distance and then moving away, out of sight. A bit later, one of them, with sharp, darting eyes, barged in and asked roughly, “Is Satoh home?”
His ratty clothes and long hair, and his crude walking cane (thankfully, not a menacing cherry stick), did not give him the aura of a police inspector. Rather, he resembled the Byeong-hwa of old.
“Satoh has sold the business,” Pil-sun replied.
“Who’s the owner now?”
“Hong Gyeong-ae.”
“Hong Gyeong-ae? A man or a woman?”
“A woman.”
“Who’s her husband? Does she have a husband?”
“There’s an attendant.”
“Who is he?”
“Kim Cheong.”
“Where is this Kim Cheong fellow?”
“He’s out.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m an attendant, too.”
“Are you Kim Cheong’s wife?”
“No.” Pil-sun frowned, a blush rising to her cheeks.
“Then when do you expect him to return?”
“I don’t know.”
The hostile young man left the store.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Pil-sun asked, following him outside, but the stranger strode away without answering.
“I’m not convinced that he was looking for the previous owner,” Deok-gi commented. “At first glance, I’d say he looks pretty shady — one of those radicals looking for trouble.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Pil-sun was pensive, her face pale, her eyes blinking from fright.
“Do Byeong-hwa’s old friends still come to see him?”
“Not really. He says he wants to stay away from them for a while.”
“Is that why he’s calling himself Kim Cheong? What about the police inspectors? Do they come?”
“Yes. They joke that they’re like doctors who have nothing to do except swat flies after all their patients get better, and that they can’t make a living since Byeong-hwa turned over a new leaf and is doing what’s good for him. They say they’re thankful, anyway, and talk about opening accounts at our store for their families and maybe even bringing some of their friends to shop here. I guess they’re satisfied.”
“Oh, really! I bet they go around spreading the news that Kim has renounced his ideology and is now busy making money. His friends won’t keep quiet about his betrayal.”
“You’ve already guessed all that?”
“Well, yes.” Deok-gi was afraid that Byeong-hwa might find himself in unexpected trouble. But had he really changed his way of thinking? Deok-gi just couldn’t be sympathetic to Byeong-hwa if he had really turned his back on his comrades and was getting help from the police. It was possible that, having fallen head over heels in love with Gyeong-ae, he was now delivering groceries just to please her, like a bankrupt yangban playing both master and servant. He could have done pretty much anything in order to make a living. It could also be that Byeong-hwa hadn’t intended to enlist the inspectors but realized that it wouldn’t hurt to make use of them if he could. Those who were hostile to Byeong-hwa might actually have a bone to pick with him.
“Did Hong Gyeong-ae give him the money for this place?” Deok-gi asked, remembering that Pil-sun had said that Gyeong-ae was the owner.
“I guess so.”
Though he didn’t know how much it would cost to buy such a store, Deok-gi wondered if Gyeong-ae had enough money of her own to launch something on this scale. Had she gotten it from his father? If so, where did that leave Gyeong-ae’s relationship with Byeong-hwa? Deok-gi couldn’t bury this thought, as much as he’d prefer not to get involved in the affair.
“How is it for you?” Deok-gi asked. “It must be exhausting working here.”
“Not really. I’m just a little nervous because I’m clumsy and inexperienced.” Pil-sun was startled to realize that she and Deok-gi had grown familiar enough with each other to chat comfortably like this.
After a long pause, Deok-gi spoke again. “You know, I was considering helping you continue your studies. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be bad for you to gain work experience, whatever it may be, but — ” He stopped, remembering what Byeong-hwa had written — that Pil-sun should be allowed to decide for herself what she wanted. He didn’t want to confuse her just when she had found something she liked.
Pil-sun hoped to draw him out, and said, “I’m in no position to study, and anyway, how can someone like me get an education?”
“You can always ask for my help if you need it. Let me be your sounding board if nothing else.” Was he being too bold? Deok-gi was concerned that Pil-sun might misconstrue his intentions.