Period of Distrust by Park Kyung-Ni (Part 4)

On a cold day approaching the lunar New Year, the ajumeoni from Galwol-dong came to visit, all wrapped up in a scarf. For some reason, she seemed a little more distracted than usual.

“I came because there’s something I want to discuss with you…but I’m not sure where to start.”

“…?”

She sat down quietly, as though she was uncomfortable bringing up the subject.

“Well…well, here’s the thing. I lent some money to someone but they died. What am I to do?”

Jinyong looked suspiciously at the ajumeoni.

“I didn’t even get a penny’s interest on the money I took in May…”

Seeing Jinyong’s changing expression, the ajumeoni shut her mouth. May was when she came for Jinyong’s gye money. It was also the month the gye ended. It was not just that though. A few months ago, there were several people who would visit her place, acting all friendly, in order to get the gye money.

“How much did you lend?” Jinyong spoke for the first time.

“Five hundred thousand hwan.”

Inside, Jinyong was surprised. She had thought the ajumeoni just used it to cover her debts, so what could this secret payment mean? Jinyong looked coldly at the ajumeoni. The ajumeoni spoke with tears in her eyes.

“With no kids and no husband, that was all I had left. It doesn’t bear thinking about how much I’ve lost. I thought if all went well I could pay off my debts, but when I gave away that money, I doomed myself.”

Jinyong wanted to corner her, asking where this business that spent the capitol was.

The ajumeoni briefly wiped her tears away and started to explain the details. The dead person was an executive director at the company which used her money, but she had not seen a single penny of interest on the five hundred thousand hwan she lent in May. She grew uneasy so pestered the executive director to withdraw the money, but he did not. At her wit’s end, she consulted a fellow Christian, and left it to her husband, Mr Kim, who said he would look into it. This Mr Kim’s methods were unusual, but he finally received a bank draft from the company president but a few days later, the executive director died in a traffic accident. The fact that he had received this bank draft from the president was most fortunate, but for some reason, this Mr Kim did not hand it over and she was not sure if he had defrauded her or not. But even if she was suspicious of him or found it hard to bear, the person to whom she gave the money was now dead and there was no way she, as a woman, could get the money off this president. She beat her breast in frustration.

Once she had heard everything, Jinyong said,

“How on earth did you know this man to give him the money?”

“Well, you know Sangbae right? He’s Sangbae’s dad.”

“What? Sangbae, that student who got christened?”

The ajumeoni blushed. Jinyong grew irritated. She recalled her saying that Sangbae’s father would be going to Seoul for business.

“So he was just using religion.”

The ajumeoni looked down as if blinded by Jinyong’s eyes.

“I don’t know, now I think about it, everything seems pre-planned. Even getting christened…”

“Is there a stronger guarantee of credibility than religion?”

The ajumeoni grew dejected at Jinyong’s sarcasm. Jinyong averted her eyes from the dejected ajumeoni.

This ajumeoni who trusted and gave away her money because of a christening, who trusted and left someone to sort her money because they were a Christian, you could only say that she was simple. Thinking as such, Jinyong looked at her again. Her desire to interrogate the ajumeoni about her weak point had already disappeared.

 “So what do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“I think it would be good if Mr Kim takes care of business and you take the bank draft.”

“But what if he doesn’t take care of it, and doesn’t visit me?”

“Then you’ll see he had an entirely different ambition.”

“Then if he doesn’t take care of it, can you help me out? I think you’ll easily see him if you’re just one woman,” she pleaded.

“I don’t know.”

She hated that kind of thing. But after discovering her weakness, rejecting her seemed fiendish, so she said with an apathetic expression,

“We’ll go together.”

Then her mother, ignorant of all this, walked in with the lunch. The ajumeoni chatted away as she ate her lunch, seemingly much relieved.

“I guess even if you have money it’s a problem. You’re scared at first and don’t think of other people.”

Jinyong swallowed her food expressionlessly.

“Don’t say anything, just find the money and do the business…your honour or whatever doesn’t matter…I’d like to get some capitol too.”

“You just need to find a job.”

“Is it that easy? If I can’t, I should just sell bread on the street.”

“You studied so much, there’s no way you won’t get one if you try. I guess I should do business. But a gye’s best for earning money. It’s not even hard work…” she said, putting her spoon down and picking her teeth with a matchstick.

Of course you think like that, such a nerve. Jinyong looked into the ajumeoni’s eyes. They were clear, without a trace of evil.

“In any case, you’ve got to make money. Money’s the best. In the world…” Unawares, her tone this time sounded frustrated and repulsed by the deed she had committed.

“Then, as the saying goes, although you’ll be hungry if you outlive your children, you’ll be confident if you have money,” the mother agreed enthusiastically.

Jinyong felt a light dizziness. She quickly turned away as if to erase their faces from her sight.

“Will I go to heaven like this? Money, money, ha ha,” the ajumeoni burst out laughing, got up and put on her gloves.

Jinyong felt that again, there was an unease and despair hidden in that laugh. She raised her head and looked at her. As expected, she was a pained, lonely woman.

After the ajumeoni left, Jinyong collapsed on her bedding. Her body was untangled like cotton.

She was certain that the gas from the heater burning in the room was leaking out. If the gas fills the room, I’ll die.

Before she knew it, she had fallen into a painful sleep.

The boy soldier with the burst guts appeared in her dream. She tried and tried to wake herself from it.

“It’s a holiday the day after tomorrow so I’ll have to send a thousand hwan to the temple…” She could faintly hear her mother talking. She raised herself up and opened her eyes.

“Ghosts and humans, they’re the same…others eating their share and my Munsu biting his fingers, waiting for his mum.”

Having completely awoken, Jinyong jumped out of bed. She took her coat and scarf, walked out of the room and put them on.

In the kitchen, she put a box of matches in her coat pocket, and then she left the house.

She had decided to finally do today what she had wanted to do in her heart for a long time.

She walked along the uphill road covered in bright snow. She felt her hair stand on end like a hedgehog.

Her scarf and coat skirt fluttered in the wind. The snow sitting on the treetops flew down onto her coat collar.

Jinyong walked on mechanically.

When she entered the temple courtyard, the old monk who had said, “just like you, monks need to eat to live,” was coming out of the nunnery. The temple was still, with no other signs of life.

Whilst aware that the muscles in her face were convulsing, she approached the monk.

“I, here’s the thing. We’re going to the country this time, and I want to take my child’s picture and tablet.” She spoke softly with her head bowed. The monk looked at her with snow-white eyes, then said as if recalling something,

“Are you moving? Then what am I meant to do? Just leave it. You don’t want to forget it in the holiday post.”

She jerked up her lowered head and turned to him.

“There’s nothing to interfere. Give me the picture, quickly,” she snapped. The monk looked puzzled and muttered something to himself as he entered the sanctuary.

When the monk finally came out with Munsu’s picture and tablet, Jinyong snatched them and walked out the gate without a word of parting.

The angered monk watched her leave, then walked back, muttering to himself.

Jinyong was not angry at the monk. She just wanted to get the picture and leave the temple as quickly as possible.

Jinyong returned to the road and climbed up the hill. As she walked, she peeked here and there. Once she arrived at a dry, snowless lawn behind a large rock, she flopped down on it. Then she took Munsu’s picture and tablet and gazed at them for a moment.

A short while later, she took a match out of her pocket and lit the photo. She then threw the tablet into the flames. But rather than the picture burning, the flames subsided. She took a tissue out of her pocket and tore it on top of the picture. It started to burn again.

The picture was completely burned. The yellow smoke was starting to thin out. Jinyong watched as the smoke disappeared into the wind.

“I only have painful memories left. Only memories of your cruel death.”

Two tracks of tears ran down her still face.

The winter sky was heartlessly clear. The snow resting on the treetops flew down with the wind onto her coat collar.

“That’s right, I’ve still got life left in me. A life that can resist,” she muttered as she grabbed onto the tree and went down the snowy slope.