“And who will be mine?” Mi-ja’s voice sounded as heavy as lead.
“I didn’t see my husband until the day of my wedding,” Grandmother said gruffly, “and I was afraid to look at him for many weeks after that.”
Was she warning us that we wouldn’t be happy with our husbands? Mi-ja gripped my hand. I squeezed back. No matter what happened, we’d always have each other.
* * *
The next day, again, dawned heavy with heat and humidity. I was used to working in the water, so I was accustomed to having my body washed clean every day. Now, for the sweet potato harvest, I had to be grateful that my clothes didn’t show as much dirt as was already on them or would be added today and that the persimmon-juice dye kept them from smelling as bad as they could, but my face twisted at the unpleasantness of it all as I stepped into my trousers and pulled a tunic over my head. After my father, grandmother, and brother were fed and settled, my sister and I started toward our dry field. We met Mi-ja at her usual spot in the olle.
“Auntie Lee-ok and Uncle Him-chan told me I have to do chores for them today,” she said. “But can we meet at the seaside for a talk and swim tonight?”
Already sweat trickled down the back of my neck, so I readily agreed to her plan. After a few more words, Mi-ja walked away, and my sister and I continued to our field. We pulled up sweet potatoes, sweated, drank water, and repeated the whole routine again and again. Every time I straightened my back, I saw the ocean in the distance, shimmering and inviting. I looked forward to tonight’s swim with Mi-ja. Or maybe we’d just sit in the shallows and let the waters swirl around us. Healing. Soothing. Reviving. Without a drop of energy spent.
At the end of the day, my sister and I, feeling tired and filthy, were walking along the road toward home when we heard the sound of an automobile. So rare! It slowed and pulled up next to us. The car had a driver. In the backseat were two men. Sitting on the far side was Sang-mun, wearing a Western-style suit. My stomach practically swallowed my heart.
The man closest to me—he had to be Sang-mun’s father—was dressed similarly. He rolled down the window and leaned his elbow on it as he peered out at me. I bowed deeply and repeatedly. I prayed that through my humility and respect my future father-in-law would see that I was more than just a girl with a dirty face and hands. He would see a hard worker, who would care for his son, help with family finances, and make a good home. At least I hoped so. I peeked at my sister. Now that she’d finished bowing, she stared slack-jawed at the two men with their foreign clothes, their car, and their driver. She’d never been out of Hado, so she was just as unsophisticated as I once had been. Still, I felt a wave of shame. I noticed, though, that Sang-mun stared straight ahead and had not acknowledged me, as was proper for a young man on an engagement mission.
Feeling that no introductions were necessary, my future father-in-law addressed me. “Girl—”
Nervous and still embarrassed by my appearance, I blurted, “Let me take you to my grandmother and father.”
Sang-mun started, looking at me in curiosity. His father was more discreet, hiding his surprise. He didn’t laugh at me or sneer, but his expression left me deeply humiliated. “I have come to meet the family of Han Mi-ja,” he said smoothly. “Can you guide us to their home?”
Mi-ja? Of course. My lips tightened, and my heart dropped down to my bowels. She was more beautiful. She’d grown up in Jeju City. Her father was a collaborator, so this was to be a like-to-like marriage. It all made sense, but how stung I was by Mi-ja’s secrecy and my grandmother’s treachery. I hadn’t told Grandmother of my feelings for Sang-mun, but surely through her arranging she’d learned that he and I had met. It was all I could do to keep from bursting into tears, but I couldn’t lose any more face than I already had.
“You’ll need to leave your automobile here,” I said, “and walk the rest of the way.”
The driver parked by the side of the road, and then came around to open the father’s door and then the son’s. Sang-mun still didn’t acknowledge me. It was a hot day, and each house we passed had one wall propped up and open on bamboo poles in hopes of catching a breeze, so everyone on our route witnessed our procession. When we reached Mi-ja’s home, her aunt and uncle also had their wall open and were sitting cross-legged in the main room. On one side of them sat my grandmother, wearing her cleanest and best-kept trousers and tunic. On their other side, Mi-ja sat Japanese-style with her bottom resting on her heels and her hands placed delicately on her knees. She wore a cotton kimono printed in a peony pattern. Her hair had been teased and pinned in the Japanese fashion. Her face was nearly white, not from Japanese makeup but from something else. Sadness? Guilt? Perhaps only I could see that her eyes were rimmed pink, as though she’d been crying. The four of them rose and bowed deeply to the strangers. Sang-mun and his father bowed in return but not as low.
“I am Lee Han-bong, Sang-mun’s father.”
“Please join us,” Mi-ja’s uncle said. “My niece will serve tea.”
Father and son slipped off their shoes, then ducked their heads as they stepped under the overhang and into the house. I was not invited inside, but I wasn’t asked to leave either. I edged away, sat on my knees in the sun, and hung my head.
We didn’t have a bride price on Jeju like they did on the mainland, but there were other formalities that needed to be negotiated, which Grandmother arbitrated with little dissent or argument from either side. The geomancer had already been hired to examine the years, months, days, and times of Sang-mun’s and Mi-ja’s births, and he’d announced a date five days from now for the wedding to take place. Although the groom’s family was clearly well off, they preferred that the ceremonies be kept to one day instead of the traditional three.
“It is not typical for someone from the mid-mountain area to marry someone from the seaside,” Sang-mun’s father explained. “Their ways are too different. Nor does someone from the western side of the island wish to marry someone from the eastern side of the island.”
What he meant was that mid-mountain men were more sophisticated compared to haenyeo brides, while men from the western side of the island didn’t like the snake-worshipping women from many eastern villages. Clearly, he was building to something with his double meanings. I lifted my head to see how the others were taking his comments. The eyes of Mi-ja’s aunt and uncle had fallen to half-mast, shielding their reactions, while my friend stared straight ahead. Her body was there, but it was as if her mind had flown out of the house and was soaring high above the sea. But I knew Mi-ja too well. She wasn’t feigning being a delicate and modest bride in the Japanese model, nor was she hiding her feelings of sadness or worry that she’d be marrying Sang-mun. She was trying to ignore me. Grandmother, meanwhile, had a most disagreeable look on her face. She’d been given a position of privilege and respect, but I worried what she would say.
“It is good for a city boy to be matched with a city girl,” Grandmother remarked, when what she could have said was that the sons and daughters of collaborators deserved each other.
“Exactly,” Sang-mun’s father agreed. “We don’t need to have families traveling back and forth between Jeju City and here.”
At last, I understood. Lee Han-bong didn’t want to have anything to do with Mi-ja’s family or the village she’d called home for the last fourteen years. What a disgusting man. And what a terrible loss of face for Mi-ja’s aunt and uncle. But they didn’t say anything. They may have spent years being cruel to Mi-ja, but now they could benefit from the Lee family’s influence. They were showing their usual hypocrisy.