When My Name Was Keoko by Linda Sue Park Page A

Uncle. That's his job—to keep us all safe."
    I stand, take a few steps away from her, and clench and unclench my fists. It's so hard to say what's in my head. I turn back toward her. "What Uncle and others like him are doing—it's more important than anything. We aren't Japanese—we're Korean. But we'll never be allowed to truly
be
Korean unless we have our independence."
    Uncle said these things to me only yesterday. And yet, as soon as he'd said them, I felt as if I'd known them all along. All my life.
    Sun-hee shakes her head and frowns. "More important than family?" she asks. But it's not one of her usual whiny little-sister questions. She's thinking hard, I can tell.
    "Our duty to Abuji is important," I say. "It's a part of our culture. But if the Japanese have their way, someday there won't be any such thing as our culture. When Uncle works for independence, he works for the right to live as Abuji wants us to.... Do you see what I mean?"
    I'm not as sure of myself as I'm trying to sound. It's so
confusing. Uncle acting like
chin-il-pa
when he's not ... Tomo, the son of an important Japanese official, helping a resistance worker ... Uncle disobeying Abuji in order to be able to obey him one day. If I can't fully understand, how can she?
    I walk back toward her, reach out my hand so I can pull her to her feet. "We'd better go in now," I say. "Sun-hee, we shouldn't talk about this anymore, unless it's truly necessary. And don't trust anyone. Not even Tomo. He helped us this once, but it can't have been easy for him, and who knows if he'll be sorry he did it."
    She looks stunned. She hadn't thought about that. Poor kid.

    We go back inside, sit down, pretend to study. After only a few moments, the megaphone blares. A neighborhood accounting. At night.
    They're almost always in the daytime. It's about Uncle, I know it. They've raided his shop and now they're searching for him.
    Abuji looks at us. His face is calm but serious as well. He's telling us to be calm, too.
    Sun-hee leaves quickly to fetch Mrs. Ahn. We go outside and line up in the street. So many soldiers—lots more than usual. People are looking around, wondering.
    We save a place for Mrs. Ahn. It's taking Sun-hee a while to bring her out. Omoni turns to me. "You had better go see—" she starts to say. But just then Sun-hee and Mrs. Ahn hurry up to us.
    I look at Sun-hee as she slips into line next to me. "I couldn't find her at first," she whispers. "She didn't answer
the door, and then I finally found her in the garden." Sure enough, on the other side of me Mrs. Ahn is fussing about dirt on her hands, using a corner of her apron to wipe them.
    We number off. Then the block leader starts talking. The usual spiel about His Majesty's Imperial forces. I'm dreading what he'll say next—about Uncle. He'll probably call him a traitor. I wish he'd get it over with.
    "Metal!" the block leader says. "By order of the Emperor, the army is commandeering all household objects made of metal. It is needed for supplies, so His Majesty's Imperial forces can continue to spread his divine message to all people. Return to your homes and collect all your metal. You may keep a few things. Basic cooking tools. A shovel, an ax. Scissors and needles. Everything else, you must bring to your front gate."
    Next to me, Sun-hee makes a choking noise, turns toward me, and grabs my arm. She looks so pale I'm afraid she might faint.
    They want metal? What about Uncle?
    Is he in danger?
    Or has he gone into hiding for no reason?

    No time to think about it now. Abuji sends me to the work area to gather up all the metal things there. Omoni goes into her bedroom to fetch the jewelry.
    Outside, the soldiers are shouting up and down the street, yelling for us to bring all the metal things in bags.
    Omoni comes out into the courtyard. She doesn't own much jewelry, but she needs both hands to carry it. Some silver bracelets and rings, a gold hair ornament, a necklace and a