A Tree That Lives For Many Years - Chapter 1 Part 3

The dirt road turned into a paved path. My shoes felt uncomfortable, as if the soles were about to come off. The adults gathered were beating the shore with sticks, but I was falling behind due to the uncomfortable shoes that wouldn’t be cool even if boiled and eaten.

“Father!”

I futilely shouted at my father’s back. He remained motionless. The villagers, rolling their feet in frustration, sat and watched as if the sea had turned into a demon. It was an atmosphere of mourning. Only after kicking off my uncomfortable shoes did I finally run towards the scene.

“Father.”

Words got stuck in my throat. My father, with a face redder than autumn leaves from the effects of alcohol, was crying. Tears of regret flowed from his wet eyes as he barely recognized me. He shook his head. There was no chance to gently encourage him to speak. The truth spilled out from the lips of the woman who held onto my shoulders.

“What if we capture the village mothers and take them away….”

“Oh…! It’s a terrible thing! What should we do with Youngi…!”

Upon hearing that the village mothers were taken away for a crime, my attention was caught. Even without Father missing his drinking gourd, kneeling, or tearing at his chest, I could feel it. I had a calculating mind to assess the situation. Those who lost wives or mothers blamed the sea. I, too, felt my legs give way, sitting listlessly on the wet sand.

My mother, who usually enjoyed going out, had been behaving oddly lately with a monster emerging from the sea, I wondered if fate might take her away. The surroundings were filled only with people gripped with shock and sorrow.

My mother had no particular connection to the sea. There was no reason for the sea monster emerging to take her away. I embraced my frail father and waited, yearning for my mother to call me gently.

The entire village gathered, each preparing offerings to the sea for their own reasons. The pitch-black sea responded only with waves. Concerned about potential encounters, I waited until the late evening to visit the house and talk to Mrs. Persimmon Tree, a woman who frequently talk with my mother.

Because of the situation, everyone I encountered was mourning. They asking if my mother had also passed away. Repeatedly answering no became exhausting, and the uncertainty about my mother’s whereabouts in a tiny village added to my anxiety.

“Hey.”

It seemed that I, asking about my mother’s possible whereabouts, looked pitiful, as a well-known lady known for raising four children alone approached me. I walked away, glancing back at the lady feeding a newborn.

“Is there still no news about your mother?”

He had a face that seemed to know everything about your difficult situation. There was no strength left to hide the unpleasant emotions. I replied bluntly.

“Yes.”

I tried to turn away, but it seemed that he had matters to attend to over there. An unpleasant murmur was directed at the rough back of my head.

“I don’t know why you think you’re supposed to be learning how to write…….”

My body froze as if seaweed had wrapped around my ankles. My ears became hot, and my eyes turned slightly red. Like an angry bull, there was nothing visible in my eyes. When I glanced at her, the old lady opened the front of her blouse with a face that said, ‘Look at this.’

“What does that mean?”

“What?”

“Why are you bringing up studying now?”

“Heh…….”

She clicked her tongue in wonder, then looked back at me as she walked toward the kitchen.

“Your mother.”

A look of pity dominated the woman’s face.  

“Didn’t you know that your mother started working by the seaside because of you wanted to study?”

I feel like a bad person. If I had known about it, I would have raised objections. I should have been more assertive, just like everyone else. My eyes were fixated, but I missed the opportunity, much like a fish caught up in something sweet. The lady, who had gone to the kitchen, left me with one remark: ‘Your mother seems really sad.’ I was left standing there, shocked, and then hurriedly left the front yard where the newborn baby’s cries echoed like a loud bell.

“Father.”

I wondered if my dad knew, but I didn’t need to ask. Close to the beach, in a worn-out place, my red-faced dad was chatting with Uncle Yeongsoo. He didn’t notice me, even with a bowl of watery dongdongju in front of him.

“How can you blame Jakyung for my wife’s death?”

‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Mr. Yeongsoo, sitting across from my dad. Then he looked at me like a sack of chaff.  He waved his hand at me as I leaned against the fence like a cow with nowhere to go. I didn’t know what he meant, but that was the look in his eyes. It was as if he didn’t want me here anyway.

The sight of the only guest eating without side dishes seemed quite pitiful. The hunched landlady brought out dried seaweed and placed it on the creaking table. She gently spoke to my father, who was pouring drinks generously.

“Hold on to your worries. Didn’t the herbalist already find a skilled exterminator? Everyone will come back neat and clean, so just keep a strong heart until then.”

The attempt at comfort seemed empty, as my father was heavily drinking in distress. Noticing signals from Mr. Yeongsoo, I stepped back when the landlady wasn’t looking. I quickly left and ran breathlessly under the oak tree.

Walking home alone, I felt a growing disillusionment within myself, particularly towards my mother. Since the day I mentioned not going to the literacy class, she had been keeping a close eye on me. Her treatment had turned harsh, citing awkwardness. I kept my curiosity to myself and gradually numbed my emotions.

Raindrops landed on my face. As soon as I closed the door, I let out the tears that had been building up inside me like cold sweat. A musty smell lingered in the house. It was the scent from the bundle of herbs I had set aside to give to my mother. I couldn’t bring myself to clear it away. Even if it was just a withered bunch, keeping it around felt like a way to remember my mother.

***

The sea that ate the twelve women was blue. The monster, called “Yosu,” had hooked claws. It would swallow a person in one gulp and then dive into the sea, leaving no trace behind, not even a nose sticking out. At that time, the landlady’s words were not just rumors. The skilled exterminator, respected by all, called by the herbalist, had arrived in the village.

The faces of the villagers waiting for 8 days were filled with anticipation. During that time, there were those who survived without dying and fathers who couldn’t steady their hands to cast nets. The exterminator, causing a stir, first asked how much they could afford to pay, and that was his initial question.

“Even if it’s tough, you can manage to pay two hundred nyang, right?”

The exterminator, dressed in a fancy black silk robe with embroidered decorations, spoke to us, who were wearing worn-out clothes, about a payment of two hundred nyang. With twelve missing women and no households doing well, not a single home could claim to be financially stable. People were just thankful if they could gather enough for a simple meal that day, let alone two hundred nyang.

“Herbalist, this is…”

‘They seem to have a different story,’ said the man from the neighboring house with a sarcastic tone. There was a discussion before, where the herbalist had proposed setting a fair amount after gathering the twelve households without putting a strain on their livelihoods. Judging by the herbalist’s troubled expression, it was evident that there had been a misunderstanding with this somewhat cheeky exterminator. The exterminator glanced at the impoverished gathering in front of him before speaking.

“Do you disagree?”

In the gamble of life and death, one had to run around with his feet on fire to save two hundred nyang. The exterminator, claiming there was nothing to regret, was ready to leave immediately. However, the herbalist managed to hold on by offering fifty nyang, and the remaining fifty nyang came from Jumsun-i, who sold a piece of idle land from the landlord, and the shortfall of one hundred yuan was paid for only after everyone agreed to work on the landowner’s land across the river for the rest of the year.

It was regrettable to borrow from the greedy landlord, but still, the thought of soon reuniting with my mother made it worthwhile. It seemed like everyone shared the same sentiment. Some, in dire circumstances, offered melons they had picked, and my father even contributed preserved meat he had saved for winter to the exterminator’s lunch.

The work seemed to be progressing smoothly. I had determined to lend a hand in any way possible, even if it meant serving the exterminator, but due to a sudden intensification of dizziness, I found myself lying helplessly. I thought the dizziness would pass as a minor inconvenience, but just last night, my father was concerned enough to spread a heated herbal patch on my back. Fortunately, I managed to walk around after taking the medicine provided by the herbalist. However, any slight exertion exacerbated the dizziness, forcing me to press my face against the ground.

In just three days, the exterminator, who had been bragging as if he could sell the scent of grilled fish, hurriedly went to sea. Some cheeky individuals even packed food to watch the extermination. It might be a show for those who haven’t lost family, but for me, whose life depended on the exterminator, it felt like a mockery.

Ignoring my dizziness, I went to the sea with a single purpose in mind: to see my mother. The cost was two hundred pieces of silver, collected through the villagers’ desperate pleas, so everyone was willing to pay, despite doubts about the exterminator’s character. Moreover, the exterminator was personally chosen by an herbalist, and the news of him heading to the sea made many people feel a sense of relief.

It’s not excellent exterminator, but there were instances where I chose to stay silent, fearing I might make things worse. I wondered how much longer he planned to laze around. Well, as long as my mother returns safely. I could even bow down and thank him if need be.

“Jakyung!”

There was a crowd gathered, like a herd of cows tearing at hay, and my father was among them. Leaning on a slender stick, he stood looking concerned about my weakened condition. I intentionally chuckled and asked how things were going.

“Oh. Hasn’t it started yet… or is that what it’s doing now…?”

As my father’s words trailed off, I craned my neck through the crowd. The spectators were pushed to one side, the exterminator sat comfortably in a good spot, diligently performing his exorcism. While I didn’t expect him to wield a knife like the shamans usually did, I thought he might engage in a dance to drive away the spirits, just as the shamans often did. It seemed the adults shared a similar expectation. They gazed at the exterminator with anticipation, exchanging amused smiles when their eyes met.

“What’s going on over there?”

“They say they’ll stab the Yosu with a brush if it appears. I don’t know.”

The people excitedly chatting about it, claiming it wasn’t their concern, were blameless. However, those of us, including myself, who hoped to seize the Yosu by the scruff of its neck and expel the missing women, felt a stiffening in our resolve, like iron being tempered.

“It looks like it’ll go on until lunchtime.”

People watching got more and more bored, yawning or sitting quietly. Someone joked that it would be better to wait for the government to send soldiers from the capital. If you asked for soldiers to catch demons in this rural area, they might send one tired soldier several years later. Those who used to walk quickly when fetching water suddenly stopped when they heard that demons had appeared.