The Beloved Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

Father might have said either. Father was no longer a part of my life, nor was the powerless deity he so faithfully served. It was years since I called on God’s name, asked for his help, or submitted to his will.
    Standing next to Mee-Kyong in the cutting line in this state of spiritual hardness, I made up my mind. My famished belly didn’t allow me a hint of remorse. At sixteen, I had survived four years in Camp 22 with no one to thank other than Mee-Kyong and myself. In ten more years, if I was still alive, I would look as haggard and as ancient as the majority of the other prisoners. If I wanted to buy myself some comfort and extra privileges, now was the opportune time.
    “That’s a good idea, Mee-Kyong,” I whispered back when I was certain the prison matron wasn’t watching. “Please ask Agent Pang to recommend me to Officer Yeong as his office maid. I would be honored.”

 
     
     
    Daughter of Purity
    “Among all her lovers there is none to comfort her.”
    Lamentations 1:2
     

     
    “Wake up!” Mee-Kyong hissed in my ear.
    Disoriented and exhausted, I turned toward my friend. She held her finger over her lips and nodded toward the prisoner on night duty. As my blurry vision began to focus, I saw that the young girl who was assigned to keep watch was asleep in her chair. Prisoners in the dorm were required to serve one night shift each month. They had to stay awake and report everything that happened: which prisoners slept, which prisoners stayed awake, which prisoners complained before going to bed. They even reported sleep-talking, so every night I begged myself not to utter something incriminating while I slept.
    The fact that the prisoner on night duty was asleep meant two things: that she would get a beating if another prisoner reported her, and that I could talk to Mee-Kyong about her sudden change of mood. A month ago, as if overnight, Mee-Kyong’s effervescent smile gave way to a constant moody pout. I suspected Agent Pang was somehow responsible for Mee-Kyong’s sullenness, but our twelve-hour shifts in the cutting line and nightly self-criticism sessions that could last for hours left little time for conversation. 
    “What is it?” I asked Mee-Kyong in a hush, trying not to wake up any of the other girls nearby.
    Mee-Kyong rubbed her hand in a circle over her abdomen and widened her eyes.
    “Pregnant?” I mouthed, trying to conceal my surprise. I never thought that Mee-Kyong might one day conceive, probably because I didn’t want to admit that I might find myself in the same situation one day. How could a starving teenager possibly bear a child in the squalor of our prison camp? Mee-Kyong nodded and bit her lip.
    “Does he know?” I inquired, wondering what fate might befall Mee-Kyong if Agent Pang found out about her condition.
    Mee-Kyong shook her head. “What should I do?” Her question surprised me. Mee-Kyong was my teacher and guide in the camp. She never asked me for advice about anything. I wanted to repay my friend for her years of kindness toward me, so I forced my foggy mind to think through Mee-Kyong’s options.
    She could tell Agent Pang about the pregnancy and trust that he would keep her out of trouble. Yet Agent Pang was so volatile there was no way to guess how he might react. The camp administrators generally ignored what went on at lunch breaks between the factory guards and their office maids, but Mee-Kyong explained to me that an officer who became too indiscreet in his relationship with one of the prisoners risked a shameful demotion. Agent Pang might assess the situation calmly and bribe a comrade in exchange for a pill Mee-Kyong could take,no questions asked. Or he might explode and take out his wrath on Mee-Kyong herself. I’m sure Mee-Kyong keenly remembered our fellow prisoner who vanished a year ago when she was discovered to be pregnant by a camp guard.
    With Agent Pang’s assistance, Mee-Kyong might receive permission from the National Security Agency