you disobeyed me?”
“You took Hana away from me for a day,” said Soo-Ja, the memory still branded into her brain.
“Yes. Let’s see how you’d like it if I made that a week. But the problem isn’t her, it’s you. You can leave her behind if you want,” said Mother-in-law, turning around and rushing back to the main house.
Soo-Ja wouldn’t leave Hana behind any more than she would leave behind an arm or a hand. Hana went everywhere with her. How unfortunate that mothers didn’t have pouches on their bellies, like kangaroo mothers did! Instead you saw them as Quasimodo creatures on the street, women with babies (and sometimes toddlers as old as three) strapped to their backs, hunched forward like two-headed animals, one face to the past, the other to the future.
Hana, who’d been listening to this conversation carefully and who loved leaving the house, glanced at her, waiting for her decision. Saying nothing, Soo-Ja put a coat on her daughter and placed a warm woolen cap over the child’s head. Hana spontaneously danced, as she always knew when Soo-Ja gave her the cap that she’d get to go for a walk.
“I like eomma when eomma take me out!” said Hana, the words roundly slipping out of her lips.
“I know, but it’s cold, Hana.”
“I don’t like eomma!” Hana protested, thinking that her mother had changed her mind.
“But you just said you did,” Soo-Ja teasingly replied.
“Only when eomma take me out!”
“Oh—so only when eomma take Hana out?” asked Soo-Ja, kneeling in front of her, smiling. “You don’t like eomma all the time?”
Hana shook her head. “No!”
“Eomma likes Hana all the time, though. Does Hana like eomma when I give her sweet potatoes?”
“I like eomma!”
“How about when I sing a song for Hana?”
“I like eomma!”
“Then I guess I’m going to have to take you out all the time, and give you sweet potatoes, and sing to you, huh?”
“Yes! Do that!”
“Do that?” Soo-Ja could not hide her delight. “All right, I’ll do that.”
How could her daughter entertain her so? Soo-Ja wondered. In her little girl, she had found her greatest ally. Hana made her laugh, made her feel light. Even though Soo-Ja spent so much time taking care of her, she still felt like she was the one getting the better part of the bargain.
Soo-Ja could not imagine her life without Hana. From the moment she was born, Hana had delighted her. On each birthday, Soo-Ja thought, with a tinge of regret, Oh, don’t get older. You’ll never be as adorable. She didn’t want her child to lose her baby fat. She would miss the plumpness of the girl’s arms, the rotund, soft belly. She wanted to keep Hana a baby forever.
But babies had a way of surprising their parents, and each year, Soo-Ja found her daughter even more lovable. Around Hana, Soo-Ja felt like she could do and say anything. Her daughter, now almost three years old, gave her a magic lasso, and inside this circle—large enough only for the two of them—Soo-Ja felt freer than ever.
“All right, Hana, let’s go,” said Soo-Ja.
On her way out, Soo-Ja saw everyone nervously and excitedly gathering in the main room. Nobody noticed her, the whole family caught up in the roles they were to play. Only Du-Ho, who was now fourteen, and who appreciated her help with his sugje—his homework—stopped her and asked her where she was going. When she told him she had an urgent errand, he smiled mischievously and said not to worry, as he’d fill her in later and let her know if the suitor was ugly or handsome, and what kind of clothes he wore. If he wore flannel pants, Du-Ho said, he’d make faces at him. She smiled back at him and continued walking to the door.
As she made her way into the courtyard, Soo-Ja noticed the fish swimming in the murky lotus pond. There were four or five of them, and they seemed as excited as the people inside, rushing off in all directions. Soo-Ja smiled, admiring their intense colors and odd shapes—a yellow koi with a long tail; some goldfish with protruding mouths; twin orfes with silvery fins. The fish were about to disappear from her line of vision when she noticed the first specks of snow of the season landing on the stone edges of the pond.
Soo-Ja looked around, hoping to find Du-Ho or one of the boys, but they were all inside, adjusting their outfits and combing their hair. She could not find a servant, either.