The Island of Sea Women(41)

Mi-ja peered through the eddies of Japanese soldiers looking for her husband-to-be. I tried to reconcile this in my mind. Did she want to see him or was she afraid to see him? If she saw him, would she speak to him? Would she let him hold her hand? Or would he grab her, as Grandmother said had happened? If Sang-mun and Mi-ja were found talking now that their wedding had been settled, it would soil her reputation, not his.

The ferry from Busan arrived. As crewmen secured the vessel, Mi-ja and I scanned the deck. Was my future husband the one with the bushy eyebrows? He was handsome! We watched another young man come down the gangplank. He was so bowlegged, I looked away for fear of laughing. I had to hope Grandmother wouldn’t match me with a man who would stir even more mockery than the typical lazy husband. (Besides, she’d told me I’d be happy.) In the end, there were few passengers, and none of them looked like a potential husband. Maybe he wasn’t a mainland man, after all. A disappointment. But Grandmother had also told me my match was better than the one she’d made for Mi-ja. I vowed to stay optimistic.

Mi-ja and I ate a simple lunch of cooked sweet potatoes that I’d brought from home. We ignored the looks and comments from the soldiers and dockworkers. After a couple of hours, the ferry from Osaka arrived. Important male passengers disembarked first. We saw Japanese soldiers, of course, and a few Japanese businessmen in fine suits, with bowler hats and walking sticks. These men were followed by women wearing kimonos, taking tiny steps as they balanced on their wooden platform sandals. Those women could never trot over prickly rocks to the sea or haul in a catch. They were put on earth, it seemed, to look beautiful, as were the other Japanese women, who were dressed in the Western style, their hems brushing their calves, and small hats pinned to their heads. Then the men from Jeju, who’d been working in Osaka, began to trail down the gangplank, carrying bags and boxes of things they’d purchased for their families—or maybe their brides—in the same way Mi-ja and I had done when we returned from Vladivostok. Most of them looked thin and dirty.

I spotted a familiar face. It was Jun-bu, Yu-ri’s brother. He hesitated at the top of the gangplank. His gaze arced across the wharf. He wore a Western-style suit. His eyes were as dark as charcoal. His hair, cropped short, was the color of chestnut bark. Wire-rimmed glasses rested on his nose, a reflection of all the reading and studying he’d been doing since we were kids. I lifted my arm to wave, but Mi-ja grabbed it and pulled it down by her side.

“You can’t meet your future husband like this!”

I laughed. “He’s not my future husband! His mother would never allow it!”

She dragged me into the shadows anyway. “You know what your grandmother said. Under no circumstances should the two of you see each other before the engagement meeting.”

We watched until every person had disembarked. I saw no one else who might be a potential husband.

“How lucky you are to marry someone you’ve known your entire life.” On the surface Mi-ja sounded happy for me, but underneath I heard the black dread of her coming circumstances, which I still didn’t understand.

“But we already know each other,” I said. “What difference will it make if he sees me?”

Nevertheless, Mi-ja kept me out of sight as Jun-bu threaded his way to the fishing boats to catch a ride home. “He’s a scholar and so smart. Lucky, lucky, lucky!”

I was thinking that he still had one more year of college, which meant that at least I wouldn’t have to live with him for very long before he went back to Japan, but I had other concerns too.

Hours later, after we returned to Hado, Mi-ja and I walked together to our customary spot in the olle and said our goodbyes. I watched her disappear around the corner, and then I ran home. The lantern light burning in the little house told me Grandmother was still awake. When I peeked in the door, she motioned me inside. I asked if she’d matched me to Jun-bu; she answered yes.

“But how could his mother ever want me?” I asked. “I’m a reminder of what Do-saeng lost. Yu-ri—”

“It’s true. Your mother-in-law will look at you and see tragedy, but now you can help care for Yu-ri.”

“I suppose you’re right.” This wasn’t what I was hoping for.

Grandmother ignored my despair. “On the good side, your mother was Do-saeng’s closest friend. Your presence will bring your mother closer to Do-saeng.”

“But doesn’t she blame me for—”

Again, Grandmother didn’t let me finish. “What other complaints do you have?”

“Jun-bu’s educated.”

Grandmother nodded somberly. “I discussed this with Do-saeng. You can now help pay for his schooling.”

“When I haven’t been able to help my own brothers?”

“Jun-bu is going to be a teacher—”

“Aigo!” I moaned. “I’ll always seem a fool to him.”

Grandmother slapped me. “You are a haenyeo! Never for one moment believe you are unworthy.”

I gave up trying to persuade her, and I hadn’t even mentioned that marrying someone I’d known my entire life felt more like marrying a brother than like gaining a husband to lie with and share love.



* * *



Do-saeng and her son came to the house the next day for the engagement meeting. I wore clean clothes and sat on the floor, staring straight ahead much as Mi-ja had done. Curiosity snuck up on me, though, and I peered over at Jun-bu a couple of times. He’d changed from his Western-style suit into homemade trousers and tunic. His glasses caught the light from where the side slats of the house were propped open, so I couldn’t see his eyes. Nevertheless, I could tell from his stillness that he was doing as good a job as I was at keeping his emotions hidden.