Echoes of the White Giraffe Read Free Page A

his long, bony finger at me, he laughed so hard he doubled over. Nearly choking with laughter, he gasped, “Mother, you have to watch out for Nuna. She is just as mad as that crazy shouting poet.
Nuna’s
poetic heart knows no shame and has no sense.” He pounded on his knee with one hand, and held his stomach with the other, as tears of laughter pooled in his eyes. “I am not going down the mountain with you this morning,
Num.
Oh, how embarrassing, how embarrassing! How I wish I had a camera. What a sight it was, what a sight!”
    Mother’s stem face softened and laugh lines appeared around her dark almond eyes. She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, and then, looking in my direction, she forced a stem look back on her face. “Sookan, my dear, sit down next to me. Listen very carefully. It is a disgrace for a well-brought-up girl to shout like that with such abandon. You are a young lady now. You cannot afford to be so impulsive anymore. People are going to say you are growing up wild and without manners because you have no father and no older brothers. I expect you to behave like a proper young lady at all times. Do you understand?”
    Mother felt the absence of my father and three older brothers in every facet of our lives. I, too, thought of them often and missed their presence, especially when I saw children in Pusan walking by with their fathers and older siblings. That always looked like such a perfect picture. My family wasn’t perfect anymore. I often felt lonesome, sad, and scared.
    The hut we lived in always felt empty somehow, and I liked hearing the sound of a man’s voice, even if it were that of a crazy shouting poet, a total stranger. His hearty morning greeting made me feel safe and happy somehow. Despite Mother’s reprimand, I hoped that someday I would meet that brave and unusual man. There were many questions I wanted to ask him.
    Inchun was still grinning, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared at me. Mother looked pale and drained as she quietly looked down at her clasped hands. I felt silly in front of Inchun, and I was ashamed that I had worried Mother. “Shall I go down to fetch some water before I go?” I asked, hoping to distract her.
    â€œOh, no! You two are due at church soon. I’ll take care of the water. I am getting quite good at balancing the jug on my head these days,” she said with a forced smile.
    I tied a bag containing my good shoes securely around my waist, and started down the mountain. Tilting my body backwards, I held my arms out for balance and took each step cautiously to avoid sliding. Halfway down the mountain, I passed the long line of women waiting for water from the well. All those women standing patiently in line suddenly seemed to me like bold heroines waging a daily battle, determined to win just one day at a time. I knew how difficult it was. Carrying the water uphill was the worst part. The bucket was always half empty by the time I got up to our small hut.
    A thin woman with a jug of water poised on her head and a baby tied to her back walked past me. The baby hung heavily on her back, and the cotton strap knotted tightly in front made her look so fragile. She breathed rapidly, and her face was red. With her eyes glued to the ground and her arms outstretched, she carefully moved forward. I watched her in admiration as she passed me and went up the hill. When she reached the slippery part, she held the water jug in place with her right hand and put her other hand on the baby’s back to soothe him.
    Noticing the sun way up in the mountain sky, I started running down the mountain. I would rather risk falling and bruising myself than walk in late and have Haerin, the choir conductor, roll her eyes at me. After a good deal of skidding, I finally reached the bottom of the mountain, where I stopped to make myself presentable. I wiped the dirt from my face, smoothed my hair, and beat my blouse and skirt to