Pachinko

Hansu laughed and shook his head dismissively.

“That’s not necessary, and Noa need never worry about tuition, board, and fees. I’ve already taken care of it. As soon as I heard the great news from Kim Changho, I sent the money to the school. I called my friend in Tokyo and found a good room near the school, which I will take you to see next week. Then I asked Kim Changho to ask you and Noa to come by so I could invite you to dinner. So, now, let’s go eat sushi. The boy deserves a magnificent meal!”

Hansu looked at Sunja’s face with pleading in his eyes. He wanted so much to celebrate his son’s great accomplishment.

“You sent the money? And found a room in Tokyo? Without my permission? It’s supposed to be a loan,” she said, feeling more anxious.

“Sir, it’s far too generous. My mother is right. We should return the money to you. I will get a job in Tokyo. Perhaps you can help me with that rather than pay the fees. I’d like to earn it myself. I feel like I can do that.”

“No. You have to study. You had to take that exam again and again, not because you are not smart. You are very smart. You didn’t have the time to study like a normal student. You took much longer than you needed because you didn’t have schooling and you had to work full time to support your family. You didn’t have all the proper tutoring that the average Japanese middle-class child would have had. And during the war, you were in that farm without any lessons. No. I will no longer watch idly while you and your mother pretend that the rules of human performance do not apply to you. A hardworking scholar should not have to worry about money. I should have forced my way earlier. Why should it take many more years for you to graduate from school? Do you want to be an old man by the time you finish Waseda? You study and learn as much as you can. I will pay,” Hansu said, laughing. “Do it my way. Be smart, Noa. This is what I can do for the next generation as a responsible Korean elder.”

Noa bowed.

“Sir, you have been very kind to our family. I am very grateful.”

Noa looked at his mother, who remained seated quietly by his side. Her hands twisted the handle of her homemade canvas bag, stitched from Mozasu’s leftover coat material. He felt sorry for her, because she was a proud woman, and this was humiliating for her. He knew she wanted to pay for his tuition.

“Noa, can you go outside and ask Mieko-san to call the restaurant for us?” Hansu asked.

Noa looked again at his mother, who seemed lost in her heavily upholstered chair.

“Umma?”

Sunja glanced up at her son, who was already standing by the door. She could see that he wanted to go to dinner with Hansu. The boy looked so handsome and pleased. She couldn’t imagine what this must have meant to him. Noa had not refused Hansu. He had already accepted the money, because the boy wanted so much to go to this university. In her mind, she could hear Yoseb yelling at her—to stop this now, that she was a foolish woman who had not thought this through. But the boy, her first child, was happy. He had done this tremendous, near impossible thing, and she could not imagine unmaking it to the thing it was yesterday, before he had passed—this glittering, brilliant object that could be taken away at a moment’s notice through lack of money. She nodded, and her son understood that they would dine with Hansu.

When the door closed, and Hansu and Sunja were alone in his office, she tried again:

“I want this to be a loan. And I want papers so I can show Noa that I paid for his school.”

“No, Sunja. This, this I get to do. He’s my son. If you don’t let me do this, I will tell him.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No. Paying for his school is nothing to me financially, but it is everything to me as his father.”

“You’re not his father.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Hansu said. “He is my child. He has my ambition. He has my abilities. I will not let my own blood rot in the gutters of Ikaino.”

Sunja gathered her bag and got up. Yoseb was not wrong, and she could not take this back.

“Let us go then. The boy is waiting outside. He must be hungry,” he said.

Hansu opened the door and let her out first.





14

December 1959



On a Saturday morning when the others would be at work, Kyunghee wanted to go to church. Missionaries from America who spoke Japanese but not Korean were visiting their church, and the minister had asked her to help him greet them since her Japanese was so good. Normally, she couldn’t get out of the house because she wouldn’t leave Yoseb by himself, but Changho offered to watch Yoseb. It wouldn’t be for very long, and Changho wanted to do one last thing for her.

Changho sat cross-legged on the warm floor near Yoseb’s bedding to help him do some of the stretches the doctor had recommended.

“You’ve made up your mind, then?” Yoseb asked.

“Brother, I should go. It’s time I went home.”

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