Princess Bari by Sok-yong Hwang Read Free Book Online

company-housing neighbours chattering loudly outside. Soldiers were dragging a handcart down the main street. The cart was covered in burlap grain sacks, so we couldn’t tell at first what was in it – but when we saw several pairs of feet poking out, we knew they were bodies. Usually, if someone died in the night, the neighbours would report it and take care of the body, but after that summer the bodies were left in place. Whenever you passed an empty house, the rotting smell, as if someone was brewing soy sauce, was overwhelming.
    Our family managed to get by. Father must have been wise enough to see what was coming. During his deals with Uncle Salamander, he would keep some of the sea cucumber or dried octopus that was delivered to the port and trade it for grain, which he’d been stockpiling. He’d lined his own pockets, as it were. One night, I was awakened by the sound of low voices and the front door opening and closing. Our parents were up to something – they kept walking in and out and grumbling like they were carrying something heavy. I tiptoed quietly to the bedroom door and peeked out. Mother and Father were holding each end of a large sack of grain and carrying it somewhere. Later my sisters and I figured out that they’d been using a shed behind the house, where we stored farm tools and other odds and ends, as a hiding place. They’d cleared out the shed, pulled up the wooden floorboards and dug a hole in the earth, which they lined with vinyl, to hide the grain. The shed was my mother’s first stop every morning – she would head out there with a cooking pot in hand before she started preparing food. When we had all caught on, Mother and Grandmother sat us down and lectured us at length.
    â€œNow pay attention, all of you,” Grandmother said. “The Republic can’t look after every single one of its subjects anymore. Why do you think they’re calling it the ‘Arduous March’? The only thing in this world you can rely on is your own family. Don’t forget that.”
    â€œListen to your grandmother. Don’t mention to anyone that we have food to eat. They say half of the houses in the village down the way are empty.”
    As we couldn’t have others seeing smoke from a cooking fire several times a day, Mother only made rice in the mornings when she lit the stove to heat the house, and we would eat half and save the rest for later. Fortunately, as our father was vice chairman in charge of customs and trade in the city, we had some coal briquettes left in storage and were able to heat the stove even in the middle of the rainy season. The chairman’s family, who lived across from us, had also been able to stockpile food, thanks to our father’s acumen.
    â€œIf we’d stayed in Chongjin, we’d be starving by now,” our mother would say while clearing away dishes. Then her thoughts would turn to Jin, who’d gotten married, and Sun, who was in the army. “ Aigo , Jin’s pregnant now. I wonder how she’s getting enough to eat. But Sun must be eating well if she’s in the army?”
    One day, Chilsung disappeared and had not returned home by sunset. Grandmother saw me pacing outside the stone wall and came out to talk to me.
    â€œDon’t worry, Chilsung is fine. I’m sure he’ll be home soon. Don’t tell your father, and don’t let him off the leash next time.”
    I squatted down in the corner of the wall. Then I closed my eyes tight and pictured Chilsung. The darkness behind my eyelids slowly paled into a milky light. I saw a road, a field, rows of cornstalks flattened in the wind, and among them, a white creature. Our little Chilsung was lying on his side with his legs stretched out. I opened my eyes wide.
    â€œGrandma! I know where he is. He’s in the middle of a cornfield way over there.” I took off running without a thought as to any danger. Grandmother followed me,