Sunja said nothing, trying not to appear surprised by the fact that he knew who she was.
The taller one continued grinning at Kyunghee. His teeth were large and square and rooted in pale pink gums.
“We’ve already spoken to your husband, but he hasn’t been responsive so we thought we’d drop by and visit with you.” He paused and said her name slowly: “Baek Kyunghee—I had a cousin named Kyunghee. Your tsumei is Bando Kimiko, nee?” The man placed his wide hand on the door and pressed it in slightly toward her. He glanced at Sunja. “The fact that we’re meeting your sister-in-law just doubles our pleasure. Right?” The men laughed heartily together.
Again, Kyunghee attempted to scan the document held before her. “I don’t understand it,” she said finally.
“This is the important part: Baek Yoseb owes my boss a hundred twenty yen.” He pointed to the number 120 written in kanji in the second paragraph. “Your husband has missed the last two payments. We’re hoping that you’ll get him to make them today.”
“How much are the payments?” Kyunghee asked.
“Eight yen plus interest per week,” the shorter man said; he had a strong accent from the Kyungsangdo region. “Maybe you keep some money at home and can pay us?” he asked. “It comes out to about twenty yen.”
Yoseb had just given her the food money for the next two weeks. She had six yen in her purse. If she gave that to him, they’d have no money for food.
“Is a hundred twenty yen the whole amount?” Sunja asked. The paper didn’t make any sense to her, either.
The short man looked a little worried and shook his head.
“By now, it’s almost double if you include the interest. Why? Do you have the money?”
“As of today, the total would be two hundred thirteen yen,” the taller man said. He’d always been good at doing sums in his head.
“Uh-muh,” Kyunghee exclaimed. She closed her eyes and leaned her body against the doorframe.
Sunja stepped forward and said calmly, “We’ll get you the money.” She spoke to them the same way she would’ve spoken to Fatso, the lodger, as to when he could expect his wash to be ready. She didn’t even glance in their direction. “Just come back in three hours. Before it gets dark.”
“We’ll see you later,” the taller one said.
The sisters-in-law walked briskly toward the shopping street near Tsuruhashi Station. They didn’t linger in front of the fabric shop window or pause at the senbei stall; they didn’t greet the friendly vegetable sellers. Rather, their bodies moved in unison toward their destination.
“I don’t want you to do this,” Kyunghee said.
“Father told me about people like this. If the entire debt isn’t paid off immediately, the interest gets higher and higher, and you’ll never be able to pay it all back. Father said that you always end up owing a great deal more than you borrow. Think about it—how did a hundred twenty yen become two hundred thirteen?”
Hoonie Kim had witnessed his neighbors lose everything after borrowing a small amount of money to buy seedlings or equipment; when the moneylenders were through with them, his neighbors would end up giving them all their crops on top of their initial loans. Sunja’s father had loathed moneylenders and had warned her often about the dangers of debt.
“If I’d known, I would’ve stopped sending money to our parents,” Kyunghee mumbled to herself.
Sunja looked straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with anyone on the busy street who glanced in their direction. She was trying to figure out what she’d say to the broker.
“Sister, you saw his sign in Korean, right?” Sunja said. “That would make him Korean, right?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know anyone who’s ever been there.”
Following the Korean signs posted on the facade of the low brick building, the women climbed up the wide stairs to the second floor. The pawnbroker’s office door had a curtained window, and Sunja opened it gingerly.
It was a warm, breezeless day in June, but the older man behind the desk wore a green silk ascot tucked into his white dress shirt and a brown woolen vest. The three square windows facing the street were open, and two electric fans whirred quietly in the opposite corners of the office. Two younger men with similar chubby faces played cards by the middle window. They glanced up and smiled at the two women.
“Welcome. How can I be of service?” the pawnbroker asked them in Korean. His hometown accent was hard to place. “Would you like to sit down?” He motioned to the chairs, and Sunja told him she’d prefer to stand. Kyunghee stood next to Sunja and refused to look at the men.
Sunja opened the palm of her hand to show him the pocket watch.
“Ajeossi, how much could you give us for this?”
The man raised his gray-black eyebrows and pulled out a loupe from his desk drawer.
“Where did you get this?”
“My mother gave it to me. It’s solid silver and washed in gold,” Sunja said.
“She knows you’re selling it?”