A Tree That Lives For Many Years - Chapter 1 Part 2

I thought that if I did it, even if my mother didn’t praise me or pat my back, she would at least acknowledge that I made an effort. However, for some reason, my mother was only playing with the corner of the tablecloth, casting glances at me. I, who was pushing rice into my mouth, lowered my head, pretending not to notice.

After staring at me in silence for a while, my mother got up as she heard the neighbor next door calling for her. Even as she stood up, I could feel her sharp gaze on my head. I couldn’t figure out whether my mother intended to scold me or if she was planning to praise me for doing well.

The person who used to talk about my stubbornness as if it were a well-worn topic was likely my mother. However, the current situation has turned quite amusing, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum because I didn’t want to go to the writing room. If they labeled it as stubbornness, there might be some doubt about me stepping back cleanly, especially since I am the second most stubborn child in this village.

That’s something only my mother knows, and my father endured a lot. He wouldn’t even discount the price of the fish he caught through hard work. My mother, fighting against women trying to get her cheaply woven fabrics, is not just because of my stubbornness, but a deep sense of filial piety.

If someone were to take away two sacks of rice claiming it’s for the king, it would make me furious. However, I could accept it when my mother reduced the portion of dinner to half. No matter how much I protested, I was under my mother’s control, considering everything I had belonged to her and my father. Even if I pleaded, it would take at least two days to get what I wanted. While people may say a woman is done once she’s married, I was determined to visit regularly, even if I had a dozen children to care for, akin to feeding them like breakfast every morning.

“Ouch.”

The next night, as if in response to my mother’s instructions, my father, who was about to go out to the sea, came home. I happened to be helping out at Aunt Jumsun’s place and brought back a piece of rice cake. With both hands full of the smell of oily food, my father walked in, and seeing him loitering around like a dog needing to poop, I laughed.

“Enough.”

I was in the process of organizing my frivolous desires, but my father spoke with even greater regret.

“Hold on a little longer.”

“Okay.”

It was the village caretaker Jumsun-i’s feast day, and everyone in the village gathered to work, making things relatively easy. However, my father’s sad eyes made the brought feast rice cake and side dishes less appetizing. Jumsun-i, who earned a new skirt every month, couldn’t even learn to read, so what could I do about my situation? My father seemed displeased with my compliance, akin to a boat smoothly going with the gentle current.

“I even asked that fellow who goes to the literacy class first, and I’ve got all the information about the cost.”

“Better off making a skirt with that money. They’re probably just eyeing my ankles, so let them die of envy over there.”

“You’ll make a skirt separately, and You’ll attend the literacy class as well.”

“Don’t go around making up stories as if you sweet-talked the dragon king to bring back a boat full of treasures, Father.”

Father, who wasn’t very talkative, absentmindedly played with raindrops in the yard, his lips hardly forming coherent words. Conversation seemed futile, as the more he spoke, the drier and stickier his mouth became. I chose a few dishes and, from the hidden stash in the kitchen, prepared them with the alcohol. Since Father appeared to have already worked hard, I thought it would be a good idea to share a meal together with the brought feast food from the neighborhood. I set aside a portion for Mother, planning to offer it to her once she finished her tasks. As I set the table, I made sure to include a chipped cup with a broken handle, adding a touch of authenticity.“You’ve been drinking.”

My father’s words caught my attention. Given that he faced the sea breeze every morning, he usually stayed away from places selling alcohol. Considering he hadn’t been around liquor lately, this was quite a surprising situation for him. Mother was probably unaware that I had been working at Aunt Jumsun-i’s house. I might hear more about it during dinner, but at the moment, all I wanted was to enjoy a satisfying meal.

“The herbalist says it’s likely to rain tomorrow. Since the boat probably won’t go out anyway, don’t worry and have a drink.”

“Sure.”

The town herbalist, Mr. Yeong-gam, was one of the most knowledgeable and generous gentlemen in this village. As the owner of the pharmacy, visited by villagers like his own home, his influence was so great that even the notable scholars couldn’t compare. There were times when people consulted Mr. Yeong-gam even for matters like naming a newly born child. He was indeed a prominent figure in the village, enviable even to those from prestigious families.

Many in the village trusted Mr. Yeong-gam’s predictions wholeheartedly, to the point that they would consider it a sunny day even if hail fell. My father, being a fisherman, was among those believers. While I didn’t follow him blindly like a devout follower, I did have faith in Mr. Yeong-gam when he mentioned his aching knees, indicating that rain might be approaching.

Mr. Yeong-gam’s knees were more dependable than those of a renowned shaman, consistently signaling the onset of rain. Given that my father worked on a boat, it made sense for me to trust Mr. Yeong-gam’s knees over paying a hefty sum to an elusive shaman.

“Hey.”

The alcohol is stronger than I thought, Father grimaced with his forehead furrowed, sticking out his tongue. I was occupied in a corner, delicately picking up bits of the feast with my fingers. Reflecting on it, I questioned whether life needed to be so complex. On special occasions, you could eat to your heart’s content and share laughter after indulging. I pondered if learning to read, even causing a headache, was really worth the trouble.

With the wind gently blowing above my head, I have a father overflowing with generosity, and in this way of living, there’s a sense that it’s not so bad. With such complacent thoughts, I raise my hands.

“Hey.”

The words were obvious, and I was deliberately ignoring them. However, fueled by the effects of alcohol, my father persisted. Using his toes, he poked my side to send a signal.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“If you draw a knife, you should at least chop something. Right?”

Initially, I thought my father, who deeply loved his children, wouldn’t oppose my pursuit of writing. However, I never imagined he would back me up to this extent.

It makes sense because my father doesn’t impose his views on others. He’s a patient fisherman and a quiet head of the family, living a simple life. It’s surprising that my father, who has spent his whole life by the sea, is somehow involved in my writing studies, even though he isn’t seeking recognition in the writing world.

“No, Father. If I say I won’t do it, do I have to clap my hands and say I’ve given up on ten nyang?”

“Jakyung”

Not ‘Hey,’ not ‘Dear.’ He didn’t call me that. He called me Jakyung, by my name. When I turned around, Father was gazing at the distant sky. Jakyung, Gwisuni. Could have just named me quickly after giving birth. Father says he thought long and hard about my name.

Almost everyone around was about to simply call me Jongdali, but I managed to get the name by explaining my circumstances to a passerby in the village. Perhaps because of the significant reasons behind it. Even though Father was reluctant to call me by my name, he used Jakyung especially when he had something important to say.

“I hope our Jakyung learns to read and write.”

My father, who spent his whole life as a fisherman, may have secretly wished to go to school. Perhaps he wanted to hold a fine brush instead of touching fish with their strong smell. I vividly remember his enthusiastic face when I talked about learning to write at that time.

“Hey, hey!”

Beneath the sky cleared by devouring the sunset, a woman with her hair untied was running towards us. Above the stone wall, which only reached her waist, you could see her rushing feet and the slightly sticking out cheekbones.

I got up from the narrow porch as I heard approaching footsteps, much like a bad smell. The woman, commonly known as the “Seaweed Mother” in the village, was accompanied by her two sons. Despite raising two strong sons, she was always a neat and tidy woman. However, as she ran towards us now, her head, like a spiky autumn flower, had sprouted thorns.

“Child, what’s going on?”

Before Father, who had risen unsteadily, could even ask, the woman leaning against the stone wall waved her arms like swatting annoying flies.

“Something big happened… something big!”

Even if it wasn’t the Seaweed Mother’s urgent call, people from afar, including villagers and children, running with excitement, signaled that something significant had happened, something very big. In an instant, the peaceful afternoon brought by Jumsun-i’s feast day was engulfed in a restless wind. Father hastily put on his shoes and rushed to the Seaweed Mother. She waved her arms in the direction of the sea, and without letting go of the liquor bottle, Father began running towards the ocean.

After wiping my oily hands on my skirt, I finally wore my shoes. The Seaweed Mother had already left, and the bustling figures in front were pushing me. When I stepped into the yard with worn-out shoes, my body shivered. It felt like the shuddering sensation of witnessing a wriggling mass of worms.

A sense of impending bad news hung in the air. Among the crowd running towards the sea, I, feeling guilty, grabbed the messenger pigeon that had been circling around, spreading news.

“Hey.”

The tired messenger pigeon replied hesitantly.

“Ah, a fisherman… a fisherman.”

“Bullshit. Something in the ocean over there.”

As if sensing the gravity of the situation, the pale messenger pigeon pointed towards the sea.

“A sea monster, a sea monster has appeared…”

A sea monster. Like being soaked in water or drenched in alcohol, my dazed mind woke up. People running in a panic, exclaiming, “Oh my goodness,” made it clear what was happening.

It was a time of darkness, occurring every few years. The sea monster, like an unwelcome guest, would show up, attacking and devouring people. It was a common occurrence for it to leave no one alive, ready to cook a meal at the snap of a finger. With diverse appearances and a strength comparable to several cows combined, dealing with it required the expertise of an exorcist, a shaman, or an expensive monster hunter.

In situations like this, when the sea monster showed up near the village, people usually gathered their small savings to hire someone to get rid of it. But in this impoverished place where even the poorest struggled to have enough rice, it wasn’t clear if they could manage it. Even if they somehow called someone to deal with the sea monster, there was no guarantee it would remain calm as it had in the past. Just hearing the news made people visibly worried, and the potential for harm remained significant.

“Father!”

Like a fishbone caught in the throat, the gurgling sound of the words was prickly and uncomfortable. A sea monster. Rumor had it that there were sea monsters disguising themselves as humans, preying on unsuspecting travelers. Some even said there were sea monsters that could burn down a house just by touching it with their palms.

I don’t know what kind of darn sea monster appeared on the shore, but it was clear that the adults armed with hoes wouldn’t stand a chance against it. Moreover, my father, who made a living by fishing, was shocked even though he knew about it. I just hoped that we wouldn’t disturb the sea monster and it would peacefully retreat.

“Father!”