Beasts of a Little Land(71)



“Oh, thank you but I can’t today,” Jade replied, blushing. “I have plans already. Some other day, perhaps.” She pulled on her pale blue coat with a rabbit fur collar, noticing how her costar was trying to hide his disappointment and feeling both pity and elation. She bowed to him and got into a cab, which took her to Lotus’s villa.

“It’s been such a long time. Oh, you look cold! Hurry up and come inside.” Lotus greeted her at the front gates herself, placing a hand on her friend’s back. They rarely spent time together, and several months had passed since Lotus had last come to Dani’s house. But Lotus had called her, asking her to visit, and she’d accepted. They both felt a little disingenuous in each other’s presence but tried sincerely, as old friends do, to conceal that artificiality.

“Where’s Sunmi? How is the little darling?” Jade asked, looking around for Lotus’s daughter, who had turned three. Sunmi had gone for a walk with her maid, and her mother had the happy look of a parent relieved of a toddler.

“You are so lucky you don’t have a child, Jade,” Lotus said in her old familiar tone, once they were settled in her room. “Not that I don’t love her, because of course I would do anything for my daughter, but . . . I miss my old life. The stage, the performances . . .”

“You can surely go back? They still play your record at all the cafés, you know.” Before Sunmi was born, Lotus had recorded some songs that had turned her into a household name. It had given her a small fortune, and President Ma a larger one.

“Do they really? I’m hardly the one to know—I haven’t gone out at night in ages.” Lotus sighed. “Sometimes I just really miss the old days, don’t you, Jade? When everything wonderful seemed possible? Now I’m not so sure. I just try to—” She faltered. “I just try to keep my head up.”

“I do miss the old days. We were all so innocent.” Jade fought the tears in her eyes. She was thinking of Lotus and HanChol and every other person she had once loved with absolute certainty and purity, without fear of getting hurt. Even JungHo had quietly slipped away from her side, and she regretted not being a better friend to him. Lotus reached over and patted her arm, and she laughed. The hotness of tears was somehow very healing.

“I have an idea,” Jade said between sniffles. “Why don’t we go out this evening? To be honest, I could really use a drink.”

Lotus resisted the suggestion for only a moment; she was actually thrilled to have an outing. Humming softly, she sat down in front of her vanity with its powders and rouges. Although she was never beautiful, she still looked young. Her new hairstyle was similar to Jade’s, cut to shoulder length and curled with tongs, and it suited her features.

The maid and Sunmi returned as she was choosing her outfit. Jade noticed that Lotus’s daughter was not a pretty child, felt guilty for having this thought, and thus acted overly awed by her. The nanny prompted Sunmi to say hello. She only put a tiny finger on her lips, staring around the room with a slow watchfulness that struck Jade as unendearing.

Lotus said distractedly, “She’s so quiet, so polite. She never cries in front of me. Once she fell down while the nanny was away, and she screwed up her whole face trying to keep herself from crying.” Hearing this, Jade resolved to show Sunmi genuine warmth and kissed her on top of her head. Lotus lightly raked the child’s new hair, uncut and translucent like dewy spider silk. “There, there . . . And now it’s time for bed,” she said, sending the girl and her nanny away in a hurry.

The evening was blustery and overcast. Lotus selected a maroon silk dress, a cloche, and a dark green overcoat—autumnal and rich against the grayness awaiting them outside. She was buoyed by the voluptuous pleasure of being perfectly dressed for a certain kind of weather. Jade was already putting on her shoes when Lotus stopped at her vanity to roll a cigarette. She smoked it halfway before she noticed Jade’s impatience.

“It’s mostly tobacco and a bit of opium. Just to take the edge off,” she said. “You want to try it?”

“No, I’m fine. At this rate we’ll still be here at midnight,” Jade said, and Lotus put out the cigarette carefully and left it on her ashtray.

When they finally set off, a hoarse wind was blowing away empty pails by the well and maids were skidding about, tearing off the washings from clothing lines.

There were countless cafés in Seoul, and each had its own following. The businessmen and pro-Japanese wealthy went to Café Vienna; the Nationalists went to Café Terrace; the Communists went to the Yellow Horse; the students and the artists went to Café Gitane; and the Japanese went to their own cafés, run by the Japanese. But everyone who was known in society went to Café Seahorn, which was owned by a young bourgeois poet. Somehow the fact that he was a pro-Japanese landowner’s son with the best education, but also a Leftist and an artist who believed in free love, made it possible for him to attract the most interesting people from every corner of society. Jade was acquainted with him, and this was where she was taking her friend.

“Isn’t this lovely? You can see everyone from this spot,” Jade said to Lotus as they slid into the crimson leather booth. She turned toward the pretty waitress and ordered two cups of mocha.

“Why is this so much more delicious than normal coffee?” Lotus whispered.

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