Inoculation with cowpox prevents smallpox. Even if it doesn't offer complete protection, those who do contract it suffer only a mild case. That's why in recent years, nearly everyone gets vaccinated, and you rarely see a pockmarked face anymore.
The mind has its own smallpox too, so there must be a smallpox of the mind. Love, jealousy, disappointment, despair, grief, deceit, cunning, cruelty, lechery, happiness, joy, success—the myriad phenomena of life are all forms of mental smallpox. So-called wise parents cannot bear to watch their beloved children suffer and try by any means to spare them this affliction, but it's beyond human power to prevent. Ignorant people believe smallpox is caused by evil spirits, but that is a mistake. This mental smallpox truly has its own demons, slipping into the minds of beloved children while their watchful parents are unaware. Thus, trying to shield children from all the terrifying and sordid aspects of life is like locking them in a room because the air teems with poisonous germs. A child whose internal organs have never been exposed to the germ-laden outside air will instantly develop a fever and diarrhea upon encountering those germs, and die. But one who has grown accustomed to the outside air, whose organs have developed resistance to germs, need not fear even a considerable invasion. It's like how a person who has survived cowpox gains immunity to smallpox.
Seon-hyeong had been locked in his room until now. He had not known that the air contained poisonous germs. And he had not been vaccinated. Now a poison germ called jealousy had entered him. A poison germ called love had entered him. He was at a loss. If he had learned something about life through religion or literature—what love is, what jealousy is—he would have known clearly what to do in this situation. But Seon-hyeong was experiencing such a terrible crisis for the first time.
After crying for a while, Seon-hyeong suddenly lifted his head. He looked back on his past psychological state and was startled, shuddering. His eyes went wide.
What's happening to me? He held his breath for a long moment. The painful experience, his first ever, gave him a terror like pitch-black night. What is this? A chilling sensation ran through his body, sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. Then, staring blankly around the carriage, he thought, It's been quite a while.
🙝 🙟
A terrifying thought struck Seon-hyeong. It felt as if his insides were charring and crackling, with black flames spewing from his nose. The rasping sound of his own breath seemed like some huge demon standing beside him, blowing cold gusts. It felt as if his body was floating, drifting down into the dark hell he had imagined while studying the Bible. Seon-hyeong shuddered and turned to look at the passengers dozing here and there in the carriage. Even they seemed like dreadful demons. Their faces seemed about to glare at him and charge.
"God, it's terrifying!" Seon-hyeong covered his face with both hands. But when he hid his face, he saw the images of Yeongchae and Hyung-sik again. It seemed as if they were embracing tightly, cheek to cheek, looking at him with smirking faces. Or that when he stood beside them and spat, they suddenly turned into terrifying demons and lunged at him, biting him. "Oh, Mother!" he cried, and collapsed. His body trembled uncontrollably with an unnameable fear. He quickly tried to think of God and pray. But all he could manage was "God, God." No other words came. So he called on God several times, then, without fully understanding why, he said, "Forgive this sinner his sins." That calmed the fearful thoughts somewhat, and his breathing steadied. So Seon-hyeong imagined Christ standing beside him, closed his eyes, and remained still.
Just then, Hyung-sik returned with Useon, and he pressed his lips to the back of Seon-hyeong's hand. Seon-hyeong had not been asleep at that moment. He knew Hyung-sik had returned but deliberately kept his eyes closed. When Hyung-sik's lips touched his hand, Seon-hyeong felt such loathing that he wanted to slap Hyung-sik's face. He thought, This is all a habit he picked up from the gisaeng.
After that, Seon-hyeong fell asleep. The glaring electric lights shone all night on the faces of these two suffering people, and the huge black locomotive with its unblinking eyes, through the dark night and the pouring rain, carrying few passengers, rounded mountain bends and passed through tunnels, carrying people with various dreams southward, ever southward.
The two woke up as the train reached Samnyangjin Station. The short hand of the clock already pointed to five, but the sky was overcast, and the station lights still glittered.
The conductor tucked his cap under his arm and bowed discreetly.
"Two sections of track are damaged. We can't depart for at least four hours."
The passengers, roused from sleep, rubbed their eyes and grumbled. "Huh? What?" They packed their belongings and got off. One, looking out the window, exclaimed, "Look at that water, look at that water!" with an admiration that was hard to tell whether joy or sorrow. Raincoat-clad station workers, with an air of indifference, sauntered idly beside the train. The station bustled as if something momentous had happened. Hyung-sik said, "Let's get off too. How can we stay on the train for four hours?" and looked at Seon-hyeong. Seon-hyeong, thinking of Hyung-sik's lips on his hand the previous evening and smiling inwardly, said, "Let's get off," and stood up first. Hyung-sik gathered the bags and blankets and got off first. Seon-hyeong picked up Hyung-sik's books and her own handbag and followed him out. As they approached the ticket gate, Byeong-uk came running and said, "Get off!"—as if talking to no one in particular—then remembered he had forgotten the morning greeting and laughed.
"Yes, we can't wait four hours like that. Let's go into an inn and rest a bit... and look at the water."
"Then we'll get off too. Wait a moment!" Byeong-uk ran off to the other side. Hyung-sik and Seon-hyeong's eyes followed him. They saw Yeongchae standing by a window on that side, gazing out blankly. But she didn't seem to notice them. Hyung-sik thought, What should I do? and Seon-hyeong thought, That little vixen. Byeong-uk ran over and said, "Hey, let's get off too. They're getting off," and only when he looked back did Yeongchae finally see Hyung-sik and Seon-hyeong. She quickly nodded.
Byeong-uk led the way, and Yeongchae followed behind him, trying to hide her body in his shadow, sidling awkwardly closer to Hyung-sik. Then Byeong-uk stepped aside, and Yeongchae and Hyung-sik stood face to face. Yeongchae gave a slight bow to Hyung-sik, then turned to Seon-hyeong, smiled broadly, and greeted her politely. Seon-hyeong smiled back. But both of them blushed instantly.
The four of them filed out through the ticket gate. Idle passengers stared at their party intently, some laughing, some whispering. It looked as if Hyung-sik was escorting three sisters. In the waiting room, they entrusted their luggage to an inn servant and followed him out. At the station corner, they stopped to see the Nakdong River, its red waters swirling and rippling.
🙝 🙟
"Ah, look at that water!" Byeong-uk shouted, leaning his belly against the barbed wire fence. The other three, all inwardly thinking Look at that water, said nothing aloud.
"Look at that. Those houses over there are half submerged!" He pointed at the thatched cottages along the road branching off toward the Masan Line. Indeed, the flood was enormous. Except for the mountains on either side, everything was blood-red muddy water. You could almost hear the sound of the water swirling and eddying down the middle of the river, as if it would soon wash away the bases of the mountains lining the banks.
The narrow channel couldn't drain it all fast enough, so every hollow and puddle was flooded, the water settling and waiting for the earlier floods to recede. The lost water even invaded inhabited villages, driving people out and occupying every room, kitchen, and closet. The homeless climbed the hills, carrying children on their backs and leading the elderly, seeking higher ground. All the household goods that people valued so dearly they wouldn't even let another touch, much less give away—those red waters lifted them, floated them here and there, then tossed them into the middle of the river, where they tumbled and spun, drifting endlessly toward the sea.
The crops that people had tended all summer—the rice plants—were crushed and crumpled in the red currents, some with their weak stalks broken, some with their tender roots snapped. The flowers of the rice that would have turned golden, bowed their heavy heads in the autumn valley mist, were all ruined now. The entire land had fallen under the dominion of red water.
Though the rain had stopped, dark clouds churned and drifted in the sky, uncertain when they might pour again. They hurried eastward, then, as if remembering something, massed toward the west. Occasionally, large raindrops fell with a scatter, as if they could hold back no longer.
On the bare high mountains, sudden waterfalls and streams hung upside down, like white lines slashed at random across a black canvas. The sound of these torrents gouging the flesh and bones of the bare mountains merged with the terrifying roar of the river, creating a majestic symphony.
The parched earth had drunk as much water as it could, swelling and softening. It seemed as if the moisture might reach the very center of the earth. Above the sky and below the ground, everything was a world of water. Standing in this watery world, people looked up at the sky, wondering, What will become of us? Byeong-uk spoke again.
"With this much flooding, won't the crops fail?" He looked at Hyung-sik. Hyung-sik was watching people scrambling up to higher ground. He turned to Byeong-uk.
"I'm not sure. If the rain stops now, it might be all right, but if it keeps coming another day, the crops will be ruined." While he spoke, the three young women all stared at his mouth. Their hearts were filled with a concern and fear that transcended the personal. The thought of the great flood, the crop failure, the sound of the water, the swirling clouds, the homeless climbing to higher ground—all this made them forget their individual concerns and share a common feeling... the feeling inherent in every human being. Even Seon-hyeong said, "If the rain stops now, will all this water be gone by today?" and looked at Hyung-sik.
"Probably by tomorrow morning," he replied.
"If it doesn't rain upstream, the water will recede soon, but if it rains upstream..." Yeongchae recalled the time when the Daedong River flooded even though no rain was falling in Pyongyang.
"Does the water ever come into the city of Pyongyang?" Seon-hyeong asked, looking at Yeongchae.
"It certainly does. Not so much inside the fortress, but often in the outer city. Just the day before yesterday, people were rowing boats through the Oeseong New Town," Yeongchae said, glancing at Seon-hyeong. Seon-hyeong quickly looked away. Byeong-uk listened for a while, then smiled faintly, thinking, They're talking well together. Seeing Byeong-uk's smile, Yeongchae moved a step closer to him and quietly took his hand, hiding the gesture. Byeong-uk squeezed her hand tightly. The four of them stood for a long time in silence, staring blankly at whatever they wanted to see. But soon they each put aside the shared feeling and became individuals again. And then, standing there watching lost its interest. Yet they remained standing, then, as if by agreement, turned and headed toward the inn, about ten steps away. Maids and the manager greeted them with "Irasshai!" and they were led to an eight-mat room at the north end of the second floor. As they passed, they saw all the rooms seemed full of guests, all engaged in conversation. The inn, thanks to the flood, was bustling. As soon as the four of them pulled out cushions and sat down, a squall of rain lashed the inn's tin roof.
"Oh dear, what about those homeless people?" the three young women said in unison, frowning. The rain poured down in sheets. The room fell silent.
🙝 🙟
The homeless huddled on the hillside, soaked by the rain, water streaming from their bodies. Mothers with babies bent over, shielding their children with their arms and bodies. Some children, suffocated by the sudden downpour, burst into wails. Their mothers, tears mixing with the rainwater streaming from their hair, rocked them back and forth.
One old woman squatted stoically, as if resigned to fate, staring at the distant mountains veiled in rain. A middle-aged man ran with a shaggy-haired youth toward shelter.
Young men and women, their faces tanned by summer weeding, stood helplessly, staring at where their hard-tilled paddies used to be. The red waves were gradually swallowing even the few remaining fields.
Each time thunder rumbled and shook the mountains and streams, the curtained rain charged at the front mountain, shrieking, then swept diagonally in the breath-like southeast wind and ran off toward the back mountain. With each gust, muddy water pushed sand and debris, washing it down noisily. Another thunderclap, and another fierce rainstorm pushed over the front mountain. The hundred or so people stood silently, helpless. At first they felt fear and sorrow, but after a while they became numb. When the heavy raindrops seemed to shatter on their faces, they only shuddered and drew themselves in.
Their skin grew cold. Their lips turned blue, their bodies trembled violently. Smoke rose from houses before them, where breakfast was being cooked. The smoke, as soon as it emerged from the chimneys, seemed to be beaten back by the driving rain, retreating indoors.
The rain showed no sign of stopping. It poured as if the entire sky had melted and turned into rain.
Further off, on a hillock, someone had propped an old straw mat on a wooden frame. Beneath it, an old woman in an apron, her face wrinkled, sat holding a young woman in pain, who was biting her lips. A young man in grass-stained trousers, his topknot bare, stood upright, holding down the straw mat that the wind tried to lift. Whenever one corner flapped, he pressed it; when another corner lifted, he pressed that.
The young woman in the old woman's arms twisted as if unable to bear the pain, occasionally crying out, "Aigoo, aigoo!" Each time, the old woman held her tighter, and the young man leaned in to look. Water from the hills washed mud around the old woman's body, flowing left and right. The skirts of the two women were stained and freed by turns.
Soon the thunder rolled off toward the distant west, and the rain gradually stopped. The dark world brightened a little. When the mountains regained their shapes, only the sound of water streaming down from all directions could be heard.
Then the young man threw off the straw mat and bent down to look at the young woman's face.
"How is it?" he asked. But she only twisted her body, answering nothing. The old woman touched her hand and said, "Look at this. Her whole body is like ice. What can we do?" She spoke with irritation and wept.
"What can we do?" the young man said, frowning. The woman twisted again. "Aigoo, it feels like my guts are tearing," she said, and ended with sobs. Her whole body was covered in mud.
"Hey, go to one of those houses and ask. They must have some human kindness, don't you think?"
"Which house should I go to? Who would take in a sick person?"
Just then, Hyung-sik's party, having finished their breakfast, came out and slowly approached from the opposite direction. People with water streaming from their bodies sat slumped on the ground, silently watching them pass. Other guests came out in pairs or trios, smoking cigarettes, to look at the water. The sudden rain had washed away all the mud, leaving the road clean and smooth. Only a few ditches had formed, carrying water downhill. Byeong-uk, walking ahead, stopped in front of the suffering woman.
"Are you unwell?" he asked. The man glanced at Byeong-uk, then lowered his head as if ashamed. Hyung-sik, Seon-hyeong, and Yeongchae also came and stood before them. The mud-caked woman twisted again. "Aigoo!" she cried. The old woman, startled, fell backward, then rubbed the mud from her hands on her own arms and waist.
"She's in her ninth month. Ever since dawn, she's had this belly pain..." She couldn't finish.
"Where is your home?" Hyung-sik asked.
"It's underwater. That wicked water... Ah, please help us!"
The woman cried out again, "Aigoo!" as if she couldn't breathe. Byeong-uk touched her hand, then turned to Hyung-sik.
"I say, let's go rent a room and get her inside. I think she's in labor." Yeongchae and Seon-hyeong frowned. Especially Seon-hyeong, as if seeing something terrifying, shuddered and took a step back.
Hyung-sik ran toward the houses. The others stood watching him go.