This Burns My Heart Page 0,41

Jae-Hwa not happy with her husband?”

“He beats her,” her father blurted out.

“What? How long has this been happening?” Soo-Ja asked.

“Since they returned from the honeymoon. He’s always getting drunk, calling her names. Babo. Byeongsin,” said Soo-Ja’s mother. She inhaled deeply from her cigarette and let out a big cloud of smoke. She then turned the radio on, and the plaintive voice of an old woman singing a ballad began to fill the room.

My brother, the musician, is so mean to me!

Always peevish, always in a hurry, always lying.

Why do you have to steal my food?

You take the meats, and leave me only soybeans!

Why do you leave me alone for hours?

It’s like living with a vagrant.

Soo-Ja pictured Jae-Hwa as an eight-year-old, her age the first time she’d met her. Plump Jae-Hwa was a new girl in her school, and had been eating her lunches alone in a stall in the bathroom. When Soo-Ja found out about this, she insisted that Jae-Hwa sit with her at her table. They’d become inseparable, and Soo-Ja’s father had jokingly nicknamed her Duljjae Ttal, Daughter No. 2.

“I have to help Jae-Hwa,” Soo-Ja said distractedly, trying to think of a plan.

“No. Stay out of it, Soo-Ja,” said her mother sharply. “Her life is her life.”

“We have to tell Jae-Hwa’s parents.”

“They know,” said Mother.

“And what are they going to do?” asked Soo-Ja.

“What all parents do. Bury their heads in the sand and never speak of it.” And as if reading her daughter’s thoughts, she added, “And it would be monstrously impolite if someone brought it up to them. They would lose face for the rest of their lives.”

“What about the police?”

“The police would never interfere in a private matter.”

“Something has to be done!” cried out Soo-Ja.

Soo-Ja’s mother shook her head at her, putting out the cigarette on a round silver ashtray. “Look at you getting all worked up. And where were you when Jae-Hwa went to your house that day? What do you think she went there for? To borrow some chili peppers?”

“I can’t, Soo-Ja. I already spoke to my parents. They think I should stay here,” said Jae-Hwa, her voice practically quivering. Soo-Ja sat next to her on the floor, in the middle of the small, windowless room. Although everything in it was similar to where Soo-Ja herself slept—pink mats and cushions, the black ink calligraphy scrolls hanging on the walls, the huge armoire with mother-of-pearl and pictures of cranes and blackbirds—the place felt oppressive, as if it had soaked up Jae-Hwa’s unhappiness during the night, only to exhale it during the day.

“Stay here with a lunatic? What kind of advice is that?” Soo-Ja asked, unable to hide her anger.

“I talked to my brothers and sisters, too. They’re afraid of offending my parents if I stay with them. So I have nowhere to go,” said Jae-Hwa.

“Stay with my parents, then.”

Jae-Hwa shook her head. “Soo-Ja, you know how people treat a separated woman. Nobody will have tea with me or meet my eyes when I walk by them. I would hate to become some kind of pariah.”

Soo-Ja edged closer to Jae-Hwa and reached for her friend’s arms. She had her stretch them out in front of her, and then she pulled the sweater back so she could see her skin. When she did so, Jae-Hwa flinched a little. Her body was covered with purple and green bruises.

“What time does Chul-Moo come back?” Soo-Ja asked.

Before Jae-Hwa could answer, the front gate slammed, and their bodies became instantly taut, like coiled wires. Jae-Hwa’s husband had arrived. He soon slid open the doors to the room and looked at them, still wearing his white cotton mask over his mouth. Soo-Ja saw the frightening might in his eyes, but she wouldn’t let herself be intimidated.

“Say good-bye to your wife. She’s going to stay with my parents for a few days,” said Soo-Ja, speaking politely, but making it clear this would not be a matter of debate.

Behind her, Jae-Hwa reached for a padded comforter and spread it on the floor. She began to put her clothes in the middle of it, leaving enough room so she could later tie up all the edges together.

“Jae-Hwa, come over here and massage my neck,” said Chul-Moo, ignoring Soo-Ja. “It’ll help me go to sleep.” He then began undressing in front of her, pulling off layers until he had on only the sleeping long johns he wore underneath his day clothes.

“Please don’t pretend you didn’t hear me,” said Soo-Ja. She ignored the effrontery of his changing in