The Nomes Site

     I am currently working on a short story, about 30 pages, which I will be posting on this website for public view. The first three chapters are ready for reading. Each Chapter has its own link below.

An Introduction

     Like a lightening bolt through water, anger pierced and generated through my entire body. I used to stormed out of my age-old apartment on North Third Street and strode along the cracked sidewalks towards an indefinite destination. With my lips tightly pressed and my eyes squinting at every object and hating it, I would continued to seek refuge somewhere. Anywhere… I thought I was trapped in a box, and the only way out was to eat my own way through the rigid cardboard because that is how it is in this new society. You have to make your own living once you’re old enough. You can’t keep living in a box hoping that whatever is beyond those corners will change every time you turn it over and over. You’ll wear yourself out before you realize that it’s just a vicious cycle.
 
 

Chapter 1: Mal Bok

          My mother and I have bonded together ever since my sister left for college three years ago. Before Cindy’s departure, I rarely spoke to my mother, having no idea about the life that she had back in Korea. Now, whenever I hear the numerous heart-wrenching stories pouring from my mother’s lips, I realize how petty my worries are. I feel grateful to live in such a nation where the people in it take care of the disabled, the ill, and the abused. This chapter is of my dear grandmother, Mal Bok, who is lying ill in Korea.

          The little peninsula of Korea was in turmoil. The Japanese had taken over the entire country during the Second World War. Korean women were forcibly taken from their homes to gratify the Japanese soldiers’ sexual needs. All women who were eighteen or above were caught and eventually taken to some sex hungry man who cared nothing of that woman’s worth. That is because during that era, a woman was worth nothing. The males were dominant while the women were scolded, slapped, and even beaten to silence. Mal Bok, however, had her own plans. She ran away from home when she turned eighteen and immediately arranged for a marriage with a man. Any man would do just as long as she wouldn’t be abused like an animal. She married my grandfather, Byung Shik Lee, who was a peace officer fighting in the war.

          The marriage relationship between my grandparents was not uncommon. Byung Shik’s mother joined the household, acting as the predominant ruler of the family. She tested her daughter-in-law’s limits as she scolded her, beat her, and blamed her for petty issues. As this was the custom, Mal Bok forced herself to live the way of an obedient wife: deaf and mute.

          My great-grandmother pounced at every chance she could make Mal Bok’s life miserable. She delighted herself in her agony, her pain; she sucked at its nectar. One morning, when the family was having breakfast at the dinner table, the mother-in-law discovered a piece of pebble in her rice bowl. Their dinner table was a small, wooden circular table with short legs. The family surrounded that table, which held three simple side dishes that would complete their meals. She picked up the hard stone and sternly placed it where everyone could see. “Look. Just look at this. How can you call yourself a good wife when you cannot even clean the grains correctly? Do you realize what you could have done to my teeth, you pitiful fool?” the old woman said in disgust. Byung Shik scolded Mal Bok for being so careless about her duties while his mother smiled to herself, basking in the other’s anguish.

         Similar to most of the Asian customs and beliefs, boys were preferred to girls in Korea. “Ah deuhl nayaji.” A mother must give birth to a son in order for her to raise her head proudly. A son was considered a jewel and treated like a rare diamond. Unfortunately, Mal Bok did not have such good luck. She would give birth to five girls before she has her first son, Sang Gyu. When she gave birth to her fifth daughter, her mother-in-law became so annoyed and angry that she cursed her new infant, telling Mal Bok to get rid of such a pathetic little thing. In her eyes and in those of many Koreans of the time, sons were the ones who would truly carry on the name of the ancestors. Women were raised only to be taken away to families who did have sons.

        During the scolding and beating, Byung Shik returned from another battle of the war. His hair was matted down by his policeman’s cap, and his skin had been scorched to a darker tone. He sat himself down next to the blanketed infant and picked her up for a better look. “Look, Byung Shik, another girl,” my great grandmother said in Korean, “What is the matter with your wife?” Byung Shik, not parting his eyes from his daughter’s, said in a happier tone, “No, mother. What are you saying? She is the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen. She is better than any son is. Boys grow up only to be killed in a war, but not this girl. She is like gold. Geum.” So the fourth daughter was named Geum Ah, meaning gold because that is what her father thought of her regardless of his mother’s blasphemies.
 
 

Chapter 2: Gum Ah

          Geum Ah was only three years old. Her life changed too quickly and too dramatically. When she was little, my mother used to take Geum Ah outside to see the other children playing games. Geum Ah used to point to the same Korean flag in front of a nearby elementary school and sing songs in her own little language. She loved to sing; she was a happy child.

          After Geum Ah reached three years old, Mal Bok noticed some changes in her daughter’s behavior. She realized how Geum Ah slept more than usual, moving from one corner of the room to the other. Constantly changing locations, Geum Ah slept and slept in her family’s little home. Once Mal Bok realized that this could be a symptom of something serious, she immediately took Geum Ah to the most prestigious hospital in the region, disregarding financial issues. This was a college hospital renowned for its doctors, but not its efficiency. The hospital would be so full that patients needing emergency care would not survive the waiting room. Nevertheless, Mal Bok took Geum Ah to that hospital and waited throughout the entire day. Once a doctor was available for Geum Ah, he immediately checked her body and its temperature. He seemed to have given her a somewhat thorough inspection, but in the end, the doctor could not find what was the matter with this three-year-old child. He simply dismissed the excessive sleeping as tiredness. This made Mal Bok think to herself, “What could Geum Ah possibly be tired from?” However, she respected the doctor’s position and left the hospital with Geum Ah in her arms.

          Geum Ah’s condition worsened day by day. By the third week, Geum Ah had stopped eating. Her fragile body began to contort, and her arms and legs twisted into strange positions. With her mouth wide open and tears streaming from her little eyes, Geum Ah cried out for her mother. Mal Bok and my mother, who is eight years older than Geum Ah, came through the door to see what was the matter. Mal Bok’s heart sank as she saw her last daughter writhing and forming a contorting figure. Geum Ah’s body appeared rigid like petrified wood. Endless massages couldn’t help to loosen her arms and legs. My mother sat by her side and constantly massaged Geum Ah’s arms, hoping for the twisting to stop; however, her efforts did little to assuage.

          With the money supply depleted from prior hospital bills, Mal Bok went in search of an alternative hospital or clinic. She found a hospital run by American soldiers who were helping the poverty stricken Koreans during the war. At the time, Korea was considered to be a third-world country, and medical assistance was not something the country could afford. Mal Bok and my mother walked seven miles to their big, white tent the very next day to have Geum Ah undergo a checkup.

          Mal Bok feared the inevitable; her daughter’s life was in danger. She tied Geum Ah’s contorted arms to her sides and strapped a sunbonnet on her head so that the world outside would not stare. The summer sun beat down on the three as my mother trotted behind Mal Bok, fanning Geum Ah with a piece of torn cardboard. Once Mal Bok and her daughters reached the hospital, the only thing that greeted them was a long line of people who were in the same situation as they were- desperate for medical attention. The line shortened inch by inch, and finally it was Geum Ah’s turn…

          The trip home was long and depressing. Geum Ah had been diagnosed with a brain disorder, and it was now too late to cure the illness. Mal Bok gently placed her spiritless daughter to sleep and cried next to her. Both of their lives would never be the same again. Mal Bok blew out the remnants of the once vibrant kerosene lamp and held Geum Ah until she fell asleep next to her. The smoke from the flame lingered above their bodies like an ominous cloud of darkness.
 
 

Chapter 3: Determination

           The very next morning, the sun was already up to greet the children who longed to play outside with their jump ropes and Korean jacks. Within the outskirts of the city Pusan, workers in the marketplaces busied themselves with the morning preparations, placing vegetables in one casket and fruits in another. Soon, the entire bazaar would be filled with shoppers and their children, some running around and some simply standing appearing vulnerable and lost.

           Granny Mal Bok loved to spend her leisure time outside. She loved to explore, see new faces, and engage in new activities each day. However, that morning when Mal Bok opened her eyes, the memory of last night’s tragedy hit her like an assassin’s bullet when Geum Ah’s shrilling voice awoke her. Geum Ah rolled around and attempted to prop herself up, but that only resulted with an enlarged bump on her head each time. Mal Bok carried Geum Ah on her back and headed outside. Granny bathed her, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair. When she fitted Geum Ah into her favorite red shirt, Geum Ah squealed because her arms had trouble safely fitting into the small armholes. Concealing her sorrow, Mal Bok lovingly asked, “Geum Ah? How do you like your shirt?” but the only response that could result from her contortions was a simple “Aaah!” or sometimes a “Eeeyah!” Mal Bok patted Geum Ah gently and carried her to the living room to watch some television.

         That evening, the whole neighborhood complained of Geum Ah’s screams and shouts. “Geum Ah can’t help it! She is under so much pain. Even you or I couldn’t understand the kind of torment she must be going through,” my mother said to Granny. Mal Bok’s eyes filled with tears and desperation when she decided to let Geum Ah sleep her pains away.

         “Maybe this will be better for all of us. The neighbors will get their quiet time and Geum Ah will sleep until her pain subsides,” Mal Bok said to herself as she reached for the insomnia medication that her husband used after the war. She fed Geum Ah two pills and set her to sleep. The silence of the night extended through the morning, and still through the day…

         “Bring me water!” Mal Bok exclaimed to her daughters, “Your sister is dying!” The sleeping pills were too strong for Geum Ah’s fragile little body, and now they had taken over her entire body, threatening to end her misery forever. “The sleeping pills were a mistake!” Mal Bok said between tears, “My baby! My baby, what have I done to you? I’m responsible; it’s all my fault.” With that said, Mal Bok turned to Geum Ah and began to slap her cheeks, splashing water to her face. After what it seemed to be hours of frantic chaos, Gum Ah awoke and began to cry aloud. The sound of her screams and hollers relieved, yet struck my mother with sadness and terror. The dreams that she once had in life would have to be forgotten, not just for her ill daughter, but for herself as well. Mal Bok decided to herself that she would live a humble life and forget her youth, when opportunities were open to her grasp. Mal Bok was determined to keep her daughter alive; she would not go back on her words.
            Just a year before Gum Ah became disabled, Mal Bok had given birth to her first and only son. The entire family celebrated with happy cheer and lofty praise to the mother now made worthy.   Byung Shik arranged a celebration to announce the birth of the Lee family’s only son, the son who would inherit everything in the end.
 
 

            Sang Gyu grew up like any normal son in Korea: spoiled and selfish. He became the most favored child of the family; however, the more pampering Sang Gyu received from his grandmother and parents, the more he was unable to compromise with his school-mates. Sang Gyu was so used to having everything done his own special way that he never learned to tolerate varying opinions and desires. One cold winter day, Sang Gyu was walking along his usual path to school and caught sight of three boys his own age wearing ear muffs delivered by the Americans. The envious young boy ran in an attempt to steal one of their foreign ear muffs, but consequently, the three boys were nothing more than vengeful bullies. The three angry boys ran with all their might to catch up to their little thief, plotting the perfect revenge for his ignorance and stupidity.  The young, helpless boy scurried home to find a place to hide, and once he reached his small pad, he exclaimed to my mother, "Jung! There are these mean boys chasing after me! HELP!" My mother, only ten years older than her brother, did not know what else to do but scare the boys away. She impersonated her father, talking in a deep, intimidating voice. "How dare you boys try to hurt my son. Get over here so I can give you a piece of my mind! Don't make me come and GET YOU!" my mother shouted in a deep voice behind the sliding paper door.  Before anyone could say another word, the bullies had gone to their mothers crying their little eyes out.