435
PARTISAN REVIEW
transition, the second year students were called and actually
treated as "students." I was pale and weak, but my clothes evoked
even more scorn from the "lords." My all-season black j;Icket
was oversized because Mother had chosen it to fit me for at least
three more years.
It
made me look even smaller than I really
was and appear defenseless. On rainy days, I rolled up my
trouser legs and walked barefoot. My cone-shaped bamboo hat
became a target at which the "lords" would throw small pebbles
to show off their aim. When the weather was nice, they wore
singlets with "ATOM" printed on the back (a fashion initiated by
atomic bomb fever) and rode bicycles in a slalom pattern.
Although I jumped aside, their bicycles would brush me and
they would laugh raucously. About to ascend to the status of a
"student," I dreamed that Father found a job, and that I would be
better equipped and treated with the respect of the other students.
I was preoccupied as Father talked to me. The first things he
asked about were my test scores and my teachers ' evaluations. I
showed him all my homework sets and exam sheets from the
first year. He was engrossed in the words of commendation writ–
ten in red ink at the top right corner of the front pages, as if they
were a reward for his strenuous efforts or a soothing medicine for
his bitter life. The general review of first year mathematics con–
tained one hundred problems that were not required work. The
teacher had highly praised the few students who'd done them. I
was one of them. Father smiled at the compliment. His eyes nar–
rowed into two seams and wrinkles radiated from the corners of
his eyes like a fan spreading to his temples.
He went to bed very early that evening. I did my homework
in the dim light of two wicks floating in vegetable oil, temporar–
ily relieved that he hadn ' t noticed what kind of pen I was using.
The next morning, I was awakened by choking smoke–
Mother was adding coal to the firewood in the oven. I whispered
in her ear: "Could you talk to Father about the pen? Please inter–
cede for me with him."
Father spent the day in town, seeing what had changed
since he went away and if there was any chance for him to
make a living.
It
was easy for me to dodge his attention for an–
other day. When Mother and I used our neighbor's stone mill to
grind rice (she used the flour as starch to glue several layers of
rag together to serve as the uppers of shoes), I asked her if Father
