Beasts of a Little Land

HANCHOL NO LONGER BROUGHT the rickshaw to the theater after Jade’s performances. Instead, they strolled home side by side slowly every night. The walk lasted nearly an hour, but neither of them felt any fatigue, even after a long day of running around town, rehearsing, and going onstage. They both felt so keenly alive simply by wandering and holding hands. They pointed out to each other the things that they saw: “Oh look at those arched windows of that department store . . .” “Did you ever notice that statue there?” Though none of those things were particularly profound, everything seemed significant and delightful and memorable. When they reached her house, he gently, almost reverentially, wrapped her in his arms and they kissed.

One night when the weather was particularly beautiful and the moon was bright, Jade pulled away from kissing him and said, “Wouldn’t you like to come in?” She knew he’d been thinking of this for a long time, but that he’d never have the courage to ask her first. She led him by the hand to her pavilion, proud to be showing him where she lived.

She knew this was his first time, and that he had to be nervous. But despite being inexperienced and younger than she was, he took her as if he knew what to do. His touch was urgent, but gentle. Even when they were both undressed, he kissed her from the crown of her head to her fingertips, then all the way down to her toes. His lips traveled along her body like a cartographer, making a map of her sensations. Little sighs escaped her mouth—not like with others, to show that what they were doing was suitably pleasing, but because she couldn’t help it. She looked up mesmerized at his lean but well-muscled body above her own, so patiently caressing her while delaying his own gratification. She said, “I don’t want to wait any longer,” and reached for him, but he kept touching her all over. “I could kiss you forever,” he whispered. When he finally pressed into her body, they looked into each other’s eyes in awe. The sensation of being so close was painfully exquisite. They held each other motionlessly for a while, before moving and dissolving into each other. He came first, and she expected him to roll off of her and fall asleep as others had done. But he stayed inside her and became hard again until she also climaxed.

He lay on top of her, panting and resting his tired head on her chest as she stroked his damp hair. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, and she glimpsed him smiling unconsciously, as though he couldn’t believe his good luck.

“Your skin . . .” he said, melting into softer, fluttery kisses over her chest. And she knew exactly what he meant; the feeling of his bare skin against hers was so comfortable yet intense that she felt hungry for it even in the moment. Without speaking, they shifted positions to touch each other as much as possible, and then laughed at their silliness.

“I can hear your heart beating,” he muttered. She could also feel his heart pulsing hard above her stomach. No one else had said this to her, but then no one else had made it worth noticing. Feeling his heartbeat was something she knew she would treasure for the rest of her life.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“Yes, I love you,” HanChol said simply. “I really do.”

“Why? Since when?”

“Since I first saw you outside the theater. Why? Because you were you, standing there, and I was also standing there . . . It’s that simple and that complicated. But it couldn’t have been otherwise.” He sighed and turned his face so that his right cheek pressed into her chest.

Ever since then, nothing else mattered to Jade more than loving and being loved by HanChol. She rarely spent time dwelling on her estrangement with Lotus or her success in theater. She knew she had the most important thing, something so pure and rare. When she came to Silver’s house, all she’d imagined for herself was becoming a maid. Then later, she wondered whether her fate was to lie with men toward whom she had no feelings except revulsion, until cast aside for younger women and newer amusements. But by some miracle her reality was now better than anything she’d ever dreamed. In a relatively short amount of time, it turned her into a different person. The change was mostly internal, although as happens when there is a seismic inner shift, her physicality changed as well. She would sit in front of her mirror and be startled that her eyes or her nose looked strangely different than just half a year before. She now felt so well adored that her soul itself had transformed, and her features had shaped themselves to reflect that. Jade had always been charming yet imperfect, with a narrow forehead and regular, unremarkable eyes laced with thin lashes, but now those flaws were unnoticeable. She was used to attracting attention, but never so much as now—she felt people’s eyes following her as she walked down the street or went onstage. None of that mattered to her, however. She only cared about being beautiful in his eyes.

Women, more so than men, are apt to polarize love as either giving or receiving. A wider expanse exists between those women who understand love as selfless caring, and others who cannot abide by a relationship through which they don’t somehow benefit. To Jade, even the idea of gaining something through HanChol would have tainted their love. None of the gifts and money Jade had received from her patrons had made her as happy as when she was thinking of ways to help HanChol. She had more than enough money to support him while he finished school. After losing his biggest customer, Jade, HanChol was having trouble making enough money. But Jade knew that he would have a hard time accepting her help. When she brought it up, HanChol looked offended for the first time in her presence.

“I could never take your money,” he said tautly. “I’m a man who knows how to make his own money—not take it from a woman.”

“Don’t think of it that way,” she pleaded. “I am older than you. Think of it like this: in life, there are times when you should accept help from people who are perhaps older and in a better position. And then when you’re successful, you return the favor and help out those who need it. You can’t keep going like this, spinning wheels! There has to be something that lifts you up out of the muck, and now I’m saying I want to be that something.”

Juhea Kim's books