• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 1058 0

between Japanese and Kuomintang troops. Each nation blamed the other for instigating the event, and Chiang Kai-shek refused Japan’s offers to negotiate, which included demands for an apology. Within a month, Japan overcame the poorly trained northern Chinese in Peking and Tsientsin, then attacked Shanghai. By the end of the summer, just as Han had feared, Japan was at war in northern China. Winter brought newspaper stories of glorious imperial victories in Nanking, but by then the press was once again completely controlled by the Japanese. Missionaries were telling contrasting stories: massive slaughter of prisoners of war, uncountable civilians murdered and shocking atrocities. During the Battle of Nanking, an incident sparked hope that the Americans would become involved, which might soon end the war and free Korea. Japanese planes had destroyed the U.S. gunboat Panay in the Yangtze River during the attack. But diplomatic apologies and reparations were offered, accepted, and the Americans kept their distance. It seemed that no one wanted to confront the Japanese, whose might was largely being drawn from the Korean peninsula— Korean rice shipped to feed the Japanese military, raw material churned from Korean mines to feed hundreds of new factories, which smelted the ore into mechanical parts for the war machine. The military presence in Gaeseong multiplied again, newspapers trumpeted imperial propaganda—and occasionally included the drivel of a serial novel—and mail grew increasingly censored, if delivered at all.

Ilsun had come to him once, proposing to invest what little they had in an illegitimate-sounding deal to export ginseng, but Han lost his temper and insisted that his son continue his art and calligraphy with an eye toward the rest of his formal education, perhaps—after Unsook conceived—at Yonhi College in Seoul. He told his son to save for the tuition. But since Han no longer monitored the household accounts, he had no knowledge that within six months all ready cash had disappeared, nor was he aware of the reason for the rapid depletion. He did know that his son spent too little time with brush in hand, and that he was often not at home.

One winter night late in February 1938, Najin came to Han in his study. As she stood before him, he realized they hadn’t shared this space since she was a child. He looked at the scattered shavings of maple surrounding him like termite’s waste, the scraps of seasoned oak and maple limbs, rough pine boards, chisels, awls and files—a different kind of place than twenty years ago. He rubbed an oiled rag on a spindle that would become part of a shutter, and indicated that she should sit.

She brushed sawdust aside and sat on her knees. “Father, I’ve come to ask your advice about quitting my job.”

Her words were abrupt, but her manner was pleasing enough. She had been teaching middle school for a year or more, and since he knew little about what she actually did every day, he wondered why she sought his advice. Yah, too bad about her husband, Han thought. Neither Najin nor the Cho family had heard from Calvin for years, and she was virtually a widow. To be sure, everyone was praying, but there was no way to know if Calvin was dead or alive, or even if he was still in America. Undoubtedly, with Japan at war, it was impossible for him to return. It wouldn’t surprise Han if after all this time the man had married again. The possibility of Calvin returning to Korea had further diminished with tensions growing between Japan, America and England following another diplomatic request for information about Japan’s naval capacity, which the Japanese still refused to supply. A derisive cartoon in the newspaper had appeared that very week, portraying the two Western nations as salivating dogs trying to tear off a Japanese naval officer’s trousers.

He plucked a dry rag from a nearby shelf and cleaned his hands. “Have you talked to your dongsaeng? And what does he say?”

“That we need the money.”

Han soaped and rinsed his hands in the basin Najin held for him, then settled onto his cushion.