From Wonso Pond by Kang Kyong-ae

leaving the kitchen with a laundry basket balanced on her head. Sinch’ol instantly sat erect and fixed his eyes on her left cheek as he watched her pass by. He heard her stepping over the threshold of the middle gate, and realized she must be going off to do laundry—a strange light now flickering in his eye.
    He had been in this house for close to two months already, but he had only been able to catch glimpses of Sonbi from a distance, and he’d never once had the chance to sit down with her and have a conversation! Such was the extent to which she had piqued his curiosity. When he watched her carry in his white shirts and underwear, freshly laundered and pressed, he was taken by how meticulous and precise she’d been with her work. When he touched his well-folded clothes, he thought to himself, Oh, if only I had a wife like her . . .
    Never mind that she was so beautiful, with that black mole on her brow! Everything about her left an indelible impression on his mind. Now, if only he had the chance to talk to her, he said to himself. All he
had to do was make his way to the riverside, and there surely, he’d be able to meet her. The hard part was coming up with a good excuse with which to shake off Okchom.
    Okchom came back to his room.
    â€œMother’s going to come with us.”
    â€œGood.”
    Though he was quick to offer this reply, Sinch’ol was now loath to go anywhere.
    â€œCome on, get up, before it gets too hot.”
    Sinch’ol pondered something for a moment.
    â€œWhy don’t we take your father along as well?”
    â€œFather? What in Heaven’s name for?”
    She glanced over at him and smiled. He smiled back.
    â€œGranted they’re no spring chickens, but shouldn’t the old couple go out for a stroll, too, every once and a while?” he chuckled.
    Okchom laughed along with him. Surely it would make a good picture for her and Sinch’ol to walk side by side in front of her parents.
    â€œYes, let’s take him along with us then . . . But I don’t think Father has come up from the lower house yet.”
    Okchom pranced over to the men’s quarters. As he watched her go, Sinch’ol wondered whether Sonbi was doing the laundry alone today. Okchom soon returned.
    â€œFather’s not even here . . .”
    At this, Sinch’ol jumped to his feet. He grabbed his hat off the hook on the wall and placed it on his head.
    â€œI’ll get your father. You two go ahead. It’s the same melon hut we walked to last time, right?”
    A flicker of displeasure crossed Okchom’s eyes, but then she burst out laughing.
    â€œOh, stop it, Sinch’ol. Forget about Father.”
    â€œNo, you two go along. I’ll find your father and meet you there.”
    Sinch’ol made his way out of the house. He could feel the hot sun beating down on his body. As he stepped through the front gate and paused for a moment, he thought: Okay, so what next?

24
    Sinch’ol had managed to dash out of the house in his desperate attempt to lose Okchom, but once he’d made his way outside, he still faced the problem of pulling off a chance meeting with Sonbi.
    He looked at the grove of trees in the distance surrounding Wonso Pond. Then he turned toward the lower village, where Tokho’s concubine lived. Finally, he shifted his gaze to the fields straight in front of him, where the melon hut was located.
    But then Okchom and her mother came out of the house.
    â€œYou haven’t left yet?”
    Okchom wore a powder blue dress with a straw hat fit snugly on her head. Okchom’s mother stared at Sinch’ol and her daughter, her lips hiding a smile. Though there had been no formal discussion of it yet, in her eyes, the two were a future couple.
    â€œCome with me to your father’s place?” Sinch’ol asked Okchom.
    â€œWhat? I told you I’d never go there. I don’t ever want to set my eyes on that