the dark. Stars twinkle in the sky. It occurs to me that the starlight is blue.
“Do you know why your mom dislikes me?” Chang’s voice is gloomy.
“No.”
“It’s because . . .” Chang is about to say something but stops. He stops, then begins again.
“It’s because of my father.”
“What about your father?”
“My father’s alive.”
I glance across at Chang in the dark. In the thick darkness I cannot see what kind of expression Chang has on his face. Chang lives with his mother. I have never heard anything about his father but have assumed that he had passed away. When people pass away, they cannot live with you.
“Where is he?”
Chang answers, Gyeongsang-do. Gyeongsang Province? Where can he mean by Gyeongsang-do?
“Where in Gyeongsang-do?”
“That I don’t know. Mother would not tell me. She just said Gyeongsang-do.”
“Why doesn’t he live with you?”
Chang says nothing. I say nothing. When the silence starts to feel awkward, Chang speaks again.
“Father cannot live with us.”
“Why not?”
“He has an illness that prohibits him from living with us.”
Illness? I grow more and more puzzled and say nothing. I remembered, out of the blue, what Mom once said, trying to express her disapproval of my befriending Chang—that illness is inherited. Chang pulls out a white envelope from his pocket.
“Would you keep this forme?”
“What is it?”
“It’s a letter from Father . . . It’s been weird. I keep thinking about him, and I can’t focus on my studying. I might flunk the high school entrance exam if I keep this up. Would you keep this for me and give it back when I’m in high school?”
I say nothing.
“Mother promised me that if I pass the test, she’ll tell me where Father is and pay for my trip so that I can go see him.”
When I reach out my hand and take the letter, Chang speaks again.
“Please keep it safe. You mustn’t lose it. It’s very important to me.”
I nod.
“Can I read it?”
Chang says that I may. We start walking again slowly and arrive at the village. Mom is waiting for me out by the new paved road, and when she sees me walking side by side with Chang, she snatches my hand, as if Chang is not even there. When we get home, Mom presses me about Chang, asking exactly where we started walking together.
“We met on the bridge.”
“You arranged to meet there?”
“No,” I said. “We ran into each other. He was riding his bike and I was walking home.”
Mom sighs and says, “Don’t start befriending Chang again.” Mom’s being so unreasonable . . . How embarrassed he must have been when Mom snatched my hand out on the road. I feel apologetic and sorry for Chang. When I do not answer her, Mom raises her voice, saying, “What stubbornness!” But I still refuse to answer.
Late that night I open the letter that Chang handed me. He must have carried it in his pocket for a long time, for the letter is all crumpled. I find the stains onthe paper endearing, thinking that they were made by Chang’s hands. Old writings on an old sheet of paper. Tear stains, made either by one who wrote the letter or one who read the letter—it is impossible to tell. Because of the smears, the letter is unintelligible save for a single sentence. The sentence goes, Let’s try and make a lot of money to live together happily in one place. I fold the letter and slip it inside the pages of The Sorrows of Young Werther and put the book inside the bottom drawer of my desk. Without knowing about the letter inside, Younger Sister lends the book to a friend and the friend loses the book. Ever since the book has been lost, each time I run into Chang in the street my heart collapses. Chang’s voice follows me around, asking me to please keep it safe and never lose it, telling me that it’s very important to him.
I keep avoiding Chang even after the high school entrance exams are over. Finally one night on the railroad tracks I confess to him that I have lost
“Do you know why your mom dislikes me?” Chang’s voice is gloomy.
“No.”
“It’s because . . .” Chang is about to say something but stops. He stops, then begins again.
“It’s because of my father.”
“What about your father?”
“My father’s alive.”
I glance across at Chang in the dark. In the thick darkness I cannot see what kind of expression Chang has on his face. Chang lives with his mother. I have never heard anything about his father but have assumed that he had passed away. When people pass away, they cannot live with you.
“Where is he?”
Chang answers, Gyeongsang-do. Gyeongsang Province? Where can he mean by Gyeongsang-do?
“Where in Gyeongsang-do?”
“That I don’t know. Mother would not tell me. She just said Gyeongsang-do.”
“Why doesn’t he live with you?”
Chang says nothing. I say nothing. When the silence starts to feel awkward, Chang speaks again.
“Father cannot live with us.”
“Why not?”
“He has an illness that prohibits him from living with us.”
Illness? I grow more and more puzzled and say nothing. I remembered, out of the blue, what Mom once said, trying to express her disapproval of my befriending Chang—that illness is inherited. Chang pulls out a white envelope from his pocket.
“Would you keep this forme?”
“What is it?”
“It’s a letter from Father . . . It’s been weird. I keep thinking about him, and I can’t focus on my studying. I might flunk the high school entrance exam if I keep this up. Would you keep this for me and give it back when I’m in high school?”
I say nothing.
“Mother promised me that if I pass the test, she’ll tell me where Father is and pay for my trip so that I can go see him.”
When I reach out my hand and take the letter, Chang speaks again.
“Please keep it safe. You mustn’t lose it. It’s very important to me.”
I nod.
“Can I read it?”
Chang says that I may. We start walking again slowly and arrive at the village. Mom is waiting for me out by the new paved road, and when she sees me walking side by side with Chang, she snatches my hand, as if Chang is not even there. When we get home, Mom presses me about Chang, asking exactly where we started walking together.
“We met on the bridge.”
“You arranged to meet there?”
“No,” I said. “We ran into each other. He was riding his bike and I was walking home.”
Mom sighs and says, “Don’t start befriending Chang again.” Mom’s being so unreasonable . . . How embarrassed he must have been when Mom snatched my hand out on the road. I feel apologetic and sorry for Chang. When I do not answer her, Mom raises her voice, saying, “What stubbornness!” But I still refuse to answer.
Late that night I open the letter that Chang handed me. He must have carried it in his pocket for a long time, for the letter is all crumpled. I find the stains onthe paper endearing, thinking that they were made by Chang’s hands. Old writings on an old sheet of paper. Tear stains, made either by one who wrote the letter or one who read the letter—it is impossible to tell. Because of the smears, the letter is unintelligible save for a single sentence. The sentence goes, Let’s try and make a lot of money to live together happily in one place. I fold the letter and slip it inside the pages of The Sorrows of Young Werther and put the book inside the bottom drawer of my desk. Without knowing about the letter inside, Younger Sister lends the book to a friend and the friend loses the book. Ever since the book has been lost, each time I run into Chang in the street my heart collapses. Chang’s voice follows me around, asking me to please keep it safe and never lose it, telling me that it’s very important to him.
I keep avoiding Chang even after the high school entrance exams are over. Finally one night on the railroad tracks I confess to him that I have lost
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