From Wonso Pond by Kang Kyong-ae

trouble.” Tokho dropped his chin into the palm of his hand with a slap.
    Sonbi glanced at him anxiously. Tokho looked over at Sonbi, then recrossed his legs.
    â€œWhere the hell is this woman’s common sense?”
    Okchom’s mother was about to say something, but she held her tongue.
    Just then Blackie, the dog, scampered into the courtyard, barking at someone behind him.

16
    The middle gate swung open and in walked Okchom.
    â€œMother!”
    Surprised to hear her daughter’s voice, Okchom’s mother rushed outside. She threw her arms around her daughter’s neck and burst into
tears. A stranger in a Western-style suit, who had followed Okchom inside, stood there awkwardly staring at the mother and daughter.
    â€œWhat’s all this about?” said Tokho from the breezeway. “When did you leave? And why didn’t you send us a telegram ? You said you were sick . . .”
    Okchom ran over and grabbed her father’s hand.
    â€œFather, this is the son of one of my teachers at school. He was on his way to MonggÅ­mp’o beach when we met on the train and I convinced him to stop by our house first.”
    Who’s that in the suit? was the thought that had crossed Tokho’s mind upon seeing the young man, who had made him very uneasy. He was now quite relieved to hear that he was the son of his daughter’s teacher.
    Okchom turned to the well-dressed young man. “This is my father,” she said with a sweet smile.
    The man quickly lifted his head, removed his hat, and came forward. He bowed to Tokho.
    â€œGlad you could stop by. Come on inside,” said Tokho.
    Tokho started into the house, followed by the others. Okchom’s mother fixed her gaze on the man in the suit who walked in ahead of Okchom. If only she had a son like him, she thought.
    â€œMy baby, didn’t you say you were sick? Your father was just about to go visit you,” she said, stepping up into the breezeway.
    Okchom felt her cheeks going red. “Oh, Mother! Why do you still call me your ‘baby’?”
    All of them laughed at this. Okchom looked back and forth between her father and the man.
    â€œDaddy, I’ve decided to go to MonggÅ­mp’o beach, too.”
    Tokho carefully examined the expression on his daughter’s face.
    â€œWell, are you feeling up to it? As long as you’re not sick, you can go anywhere as far as I’m concerned.”
    Okchom smiled gleefully and then looked over at her visitor. But then she remembered something.
    â€œMother, didn’t you say that Sonbi moved in to my room?”
    â€œYes, she did . . .”
    â€œWell, where am I supposed to go now?” she pouted.
    Tokho looked at Okchom. At times like this, he thought, she was the spitting image of her mother.

    â€œNow, don’t you worry about it, dear. We’ll just have Sonbi stay in here.”
    Tokho smiled, and looked at the young man.
    â€œStill acts like a child, that one, doesn’t she? Hah, ha!”
    The man in the suit smiled back. After just a few minutes, he understood how preciously Okchom was treated in this family.
    â€œSonbi! Get lunch ready.”
    At her mother’s words Okchom jumped to her feet.
    â€œIs Sonbi really here? Right now?”
    Rushing across the breezeway, Okchom ran into Sonbi coming out of her workroom.
    â€œSonbi! How have you been?”
    Sonbi was about to take Okchom’s hand when she caught a strong whiff of perfume, and suddenly pulled back.
    As she did so, she could feel the warmth rush into her cheeks.
    â€œOh, Sonbi, you’re so pretty now! How did you ever get to be so . . .”
    Okchom unconsciously glanced over her shoulder. When she saw that all eyes in the inner room were fixed in their direction, she felt something forcing her eyes to twitch—the closest thing she’d ever felt to real jealousy. Now her own cheeks were burning.
    Okchom spun around. Sonbi, her head down, went