The calligrapher's daughter_ a novel - Eugenia Kim [77]
“Yes, Madam.”
“Please call me Miss Gordon, won’t you?”
I tried and apologized for stuttering over her name. She smiled. “Don’t worry. Everybody has trouble with it. Did you like it there?”
“Yes.” I was too shy to say anything else.
“You know, I recently went to Seoul myself.” I nodded receptively, and she continued. “I visited Ewha. A marvelous place! Have you seen it?”
A mute nod.
“Well, you must study hard and make good marks for college.”
“I—I’ve already graduated.”
“Of course! Now I remember hearing from Harlan what a good student you were at the girls’ school. A favorite as I recall. Why, you must be planning right now for Ewha.”
I blushed with both modesty and discomfort over the familiarity of Miss Gordon’s reference to Director Gordon. Her casual use of his first name truly made me squirm. “One day, I hope—” I lost my courage to say more. Near the front door, Reverend Ahn and my parents were bowing to each other. Mother turned and made a tiny gesture that clearly said stop bothering the American lady and come outside at once!
“Are you planning to go?” said Miss Gordon. “How wonderful. This fall?”
“No. I don’t—it isn’t—the fee—” Since my tongue refused to speak normally, I stopped. With my head bent I could only see Miss Gordon’s freckled wrists and sturdy fat-heeled American shoes, but I sensed her smiling encouragement. I took a breath and made a huge, bold and very selfish leap. “First I must have a job.”
“Is that so?” Miss Gordon tapped my shoulder and sat in the last pew. “Let’s stop a moment and talk before going outside.” I indicated to Mother to go on without me, and sat beside the missionary. I smelled a pleasant, powdery sweetness as Miss Gordon fanned herself with her hand.
“Now then. What would you like to study at Ewha?”
Having never forgotten the intensity of Dongsaeng’s birth, I wanted to be an obstetrician but knew that the only medical training Ewha offered was nursing. That the practice of medicine was beneath my family’s class was a problem I’d face if my wish became a possibility. At Imo’s church, I’d met young men from Seoul National University who told me that its medical program was no longer taught in German, Japanese translations of medical textbooks having finally arrived. Change was coming, but not soon enough for me to become an obstetrician. I quickly calculated that the missionaries, who had started a great many schools, would be most interested in supporting anyone who pursued religion or teaching. Someone like Yee Sunsaeng-nim. “Childhood education,” I said, almost as a question.
“Wonderful! I believe the tuition is around two hundred fifty.”
“That much! I had no idea.” This news—just punishment for my manipulative thinking—dashed my hope of missionary sponsorship.
“For the full two years. I don’t know if you’ve heard—no, probably not since you’ve been away. My niece and nephew are coming to live with us next month.”
“Excuse me,” I said to explain my startled expression. “But I didn’t know Director Gordon had children.”
“Yes. You see, my sister-in-law died in childbirth years ago. Harlan guessed correctly that his work would be demanding, and knew he couldn’t properly raise his youngsters here. The children were living with our parents in New York.” She must have seen my face light up at the mention of the famous American city, for she added, “In Syracuse, New York State.” Miss Gordon fanned herself rapidly, her hand like a hummingbird hovering over perfumed water cupped in a flower. “They’re old enough now to join their father, and I’m afraid my parents are quite old enough for a break from child rearing.” She chortled and I smiled back, uncomprehending. What grandparents wouldn’t adore having their grandchildren around?
“Why, Harlan and I spoke about this very thing last night. God must have told me to greet you today!”
Thinking that I would have to learn to suppress my unseemly ambition, I listened politely, my hands folded, my eyes on my knees.
“We’ll need extra help around the house, and