rebellious like that. Once you put an idea in your head, you go after it like an arrow to its target.”
“If Father really loved me, he’d let me go.”
“You clearly know nothing about love. And I didn’t realize your life here was so terrible. Most girls your age are breaking their backs farming rice paddies. You sit at home and read poetry.”
Soo-Ja looked at her mother. She wanted to tell her, Mother, you speak as if you’ve never known what it’s like to want something. Instead, Soo-Ja bit her lips lest she speak out of place. She watched as the men—all the sons—bowed and chanted to the ancestors, while the women stood back. They were all crammed in one room, and Soo-Ja had to fight the desire to run away.
“I thought parents wanted what was best for their children.”
“That is a myth. We want what is best for us.”
“I know. You want me to get married. But I’d rather go to diplomat school.”
“Those two things are not mutually exclusive,” said Soo-Ja’s mother. She turned to her daughter and looked at her not as her child, but as a fellow woman. “If you find someone weak—a man different from your father—somebody who will let you make decisions; of course, you’ll have to let him think he’s the one in charge. You’re eager to go to Seoul. I’m eager for you to get married. Perhaps there can be a compromise.”
“I thought you were against me going to Seoul.”
“I’m against you going there as a single woman. There is a difference.”
Soo-Ja took in her mother’s words and realized she was not so alone, after all.
Someone weak. Who will let me make decisions.
The answer came to her instantly: she’d have to trick her future husband.
chapter two
“Hana, dul, set! One, two, three! One, two, three!” The instructor barked out drills at the young men filling the outdoor gymnasium.
The students were in their late teens and early twenties, all of them roughly the same height and build, wearing identically serious expressions. They moved in perfect unison—jumping up and down, squatting, and lifting their arms in the air. Soo-Ja sat on the bleachers a few yards away from them, watching. She did not know if Min had noticed her, so intent he seemed on the exercises. She wondered if the laws of gravity applied to sight, so that a look of interest—however weighty—would not land any quicker than an uninterested one.
When they finally finished, Min ran toward the bleachers, where Soo-Ja sat, and plopped himself down. His breath was still heavy from the effort, sweat covering his face and body. “I don’t have much time. I have to go back there.”
“Well, you don’t have to sit here with me. Why do you even assume I came here to see you?” teased Soo-Ja. Keep this up, thought Soo-Ja, and I won’t choose you. Some other boy will get me to Seoul.
“Did you come here to say good-bye?”
“Good-bye?” asked Soo-Ja, worried her plan would be over before it even began.
“I’m heading out to Seoul next week, with some of the other boys from my class. Didn’t you hear? Everyone’s talking about it. The students there are planning massive demonstrations on the streets.”
“In Masan, I heard.”
“Everywhere. Masan, Daegu, Seoul. I hope there’ll be fights with the police. If the pigs come after me, I’ll be ready,” said Min, pulling out an imaginary gun and pointing it at an invisible assailant.
“I hope you’re wrong. I hope there’s no violence. President Rhee should step down on his own.”
“I don’t understand why everyone hates him so much, by the way,” said Min, pretending to put his invisible gun away in its holster.
“Maybe because he takes foreign aid money meant for the reconstruction and lavishes it upon his cronies. Or because he throws people in jail for no reason, especially if they oppose him,” said Soo-Ja.
“Does that really sound that bad? I’d probably do the same.”
“How long will you be in Seoul?” asked Soo-Ja, trying to hide the envy in her voice.
“For as long as the excitement lasts.”
“Isn’t it going to be dangerous? Is your magic gun going to protect you?”
“No. But your thoughts of me will,” said Min cheekily, glancing at her askew as if to see how she would react.
Soo-Ja smiled at his flirtatious tone. “Just be safe.”
“I can’t. I’m going to march in the very first row.”
The wind grew stronger, blowing Soo-Ja’s hair in the air. She held it down with her hand, rearranging her headband. “Don’t be a fool. What