“It is good, sir.”
“I’m almost six years old,” Mozasu interrupted, something he did out of habit whenever his older brother spoke. “We eat a lot of rice here. I can eat bowls and bowls of rice. Tamaguchi-san said that I need to eat well to grow. He told me not to eat potatoes but to eat rice! Do you like rice, sir?” the boy asked Hansu. “Noa and I will have baths tonight. In Osaka, we couldn’t take baths often because there was no fuel for hot water. I like the baths on the farm better because the tub is smaller than the one at the sento. Do you like baths? The water is so hot, but you get used it, nee, and the tips of my fingers get wrinkled like an old man when I don’t come out of the water.” Mozasu opened his eyes wide. “My face doesn’t wrinkle, though, because I am young.”
Hansu laughed. The younger child had none of Noa’s formality. He seemed so free.
“I’m glad you’re eating well here. That’s good to know. Tamaguchi-san said that you boys are excellent workers.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mozasu said, wanting to ask the man more questions but stopping himself when the man addressed his brother.
“What are your chores, Noa?”
“We clean the stalls here, feed the animals, and take care of the chickens. I also keep records for Tamaguchi-san when we go to the market.”
“Do you miss school?”
Noa did not reply. He missed doing math problems and writing Japanese. He missed the quiet of doing his work—how no one bothered him when he was doing his homework. There was never any time to read at the farm, and he had no books of his own.
“I was told that you’re a very good student.”
“Last year, there wasn’t much school.”
Back home, school had been canceled often. Unlike the other boys, Noa had disliked the bayonet practices and pointless air raid drills. Although he had not wanted to be separated from Uncle Yoseb, the farm was better than being in the city, because he felt safe here. At the farm, he never heard any planes, and there were far fewer bomb shelter drills. Meals were abundant and delicious. They ate eggs every day and drank fresh milk. He slept deeply and woke up feeling well.
“When the war ends, you will return to school, I suppose. Would you like that?” Hansu asked.
Noa nodded.
Sunja wondered how they would manage then. After the war, she had planned on going back to Yeongdo, but her mother said there was nothing left. The government had assessed taxes on the boardinghouse owner, and the owner had sold the building to a Japanese family. The servant girls had taken factory jobs in Manchuria, and there had been no news of them. When Hansu had located Yangjin, she had been working as a housekeeper for a Japanese merchant in Busan, sleeping in the storeroom.
Hansu pulled out two comic books from his jacket pocket.
“Here.”
Noa accepted them with both hands, the way his mother had taught him. The writing was in Korean.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Do you read Korean?”
“No, sir.”
“You can learn,” Hansu said.
“Aunt Kyunghee can help us read this,” Mozasu said. “Uncle Yoseb isn’t here, but when we see him next time, we can surprise him.”
“You boys should know how to read Korean. One day, you may return,” Hansu said.
“Yes, sir,” Noa said. He imagined that Korea would be a peaceful place where he would be normal. His father had told him that Pyongyang, where he’d grown up, was a beautiful city, and Yeongdo, his mother’s hometown, was a serene island with abundant fish in blue-green waters.
“Where are you from, sir?” Noa asked.
“Jeju. It isn’t far from Busan, where your mother is from. It’s a volcanic island. They have oranges there. The people from Jeju are descendants of gods.” He winked. “I will take you there one day.”
“I don’t want to live in Korea,” Mozasu cried. “I want to stay here at the farm.”
Sunja patted Mozasu’s back.
“Umma, we should live on the farm forever. Uncle Yoseb will come here soon, right?” Mozasu asked.
Kyunghee walked in then, having finished her work. Mozasu ran to her with the comic books.
“Can you read this for me?”
Mozasu led her to the pile of folded futons, which they used as chairs.
Kyunghee nodded.
“Noa, come. I’ll read these to you boys.”
Noa bowed quickly to Hansu and joined Kyunghee and Mozasu. Yangjin followed Noa, leaving Sunja at the table. When Sunja started to get up, Hansu gestured for her to sit down.
“Stay.” Hansu looked serious. “Stay for a little while. I want to know how you are.”
“I’m well. Thank you.” Her voice was shaky. “Thank you for bringing my mother here,” Sunja said. There was more she needed to say, but it was hard.
“You asked for news of her, and I thought it would be better for her to come here. It’s very bad in Japan, but it’s worse in Korea right now. When the war ends, it may get better, but it’ll be worse before it stabilizes.”