“No, no. I would just like a corner to lie down.”
“It’s late, and the wind is very strong tonight.” Yangjin felt embarrassed suddenly by the condition of her boardinghouse, when she had never felt this way before. If he wanted to leave the next morning, she would give him back his money, she thought.
She told him the monthly rate that had to be paid up front. If he left before the end of the month, she’d return the remainder. She charged him twenty-three yen, the same as a fisherman. Isak counted out the yen and handed them to her with both hands.
The maid put down his bag in front of the room and went to fetch a clean bedroll from the storage cabinet. He would need hot water from the kitchen to wash. The servant girl lowered her eyes but she was curious about him.
Yangjin went with the servant girl to make up the pallet, and Isak watched them quietly. Afterward, the maid brought him a water basin filled with warm water and a clean towel. The boys from Daegu slept side by side neatly, and the widower slept with his arms raised over his head. Isak’s pallet was parallel to the widower’s.
In the morning, the men would fuss a little about having to share the space with another lodger, but it wasn’t as if Yangjin could have turned him out.
3
At dawn, the Chung brothers returned from their boat. Right away, Fatso noticed the new lodger, who remained asleep in the room.
He grinned at Yangjin. “I’m glad to see that a hardworking lady like you is so successful. The news of your great cooking has reached the rich. Next, you’ll be taking in Japanese guests! I hope you charged him triple what we poor fellows pay.”
Sunja shook her head at him, but he didn’t notice. Fatso fingered the necktie hanging by Isak’s suit.
“So is this what yangban wear around their necks to look important? Looks like a noose. I’ve never seen such a thing up close! Waaaah—smooth!” The youngest brother rubbed the tie against his whiskers. “Maybe this is silk. A real silk noose!” He laughed out loud, but Isak did not stir.
“Fatso-ya, don’t touch that,” said Gombo sternly. The eldest brother’s face was covered in pockmarks, and when he was angry, his pitted skin turned red. Ever since their father had died, he had watched over his two brothers by himself.
Fatso let go of the tie and looked sheepish. He hated upsetting Gombo. The brothers bathed, ate, then all three fell asleep. The new guest continued to sleep beside them, his slumber punctuated now and then by a muffled cough.
Yangjin went to the kitchen to tell the maids to look out for the new lodger in case he woke up. They were to have a hot meal ready for him. Sunja was crouched in the corner scrubbing sweet potatoes, not looking up when her mother entered the room or when she left it. For the past week, they had been speaking only when necessary. The servant girls couldn’t figure out what had happened to make Sunja so quiet.
In the late afternoon, the Chung brothers woke up, ate again, and went to the village to buy tobacco before getting on the boat. The evening lodgers had not yet returned from work, so the house was still for a couple of hours. The sea wind seeped through the porous walls and around the window edges, causing a considerable draft in the short hallway connecting the rooms.
Yangjin was seated cross-legged nearby one of the hot spots on the heated floor of the alcove room where the women slept. She was mending a pair of trousers, one of the half dozen in the pile of the guests’ well-worn garments. The men’s clothes were not washed often enough, since the men owned so little and didn’t like to bother.
“They’ll only get dirty again,” Fatso would complain, though his older brothers preferred them clean. After laundering, Yangjin patched up whatever she could, and at least once a year, she’d change the collars of shirts and jackets that could no longer be repaired or cleaned. Every time the new lodger coughed, her head bobbed up. She tried to focus on her neat stitches rather than on her daughter, who was cleaning the floors of the house. Twice a day, the yellow wax-papered floors were swept with a short broom, then mopped by hand with a clean rag.
The front door of the house opened slowly, and both mother and daughter looked up from their work. Jun, the coal man, had come for his money.
Yangjin rose from the floor to meet him. Sunja bowed perfunctorily, then returned to her work.
“How is your wife?” Yangjin asked. The coal man’s wife had a nervous stomach and was occasionally bedridden.
“She got up early this morning and went to the market. Can’t stop that woman from making money. You know how she is,” Jun said with pride.
“You’re a fortunate man.” Yangjin pulled out her purse to pay him for the week’s coal.