Gathering of Pearls (12 page)

She led me to a three-way mirror, and I saw how stunning the ensemble was. The shoes made me look tall, and the purse added a touch of elegance.
Wouldn't Ellen be amazed to see me like this?
I kept thinking.

"I can give you forty percent off if you buy all three. This dress has been here for a while, and I don't think it will fit anyone else as well as it fits you."

I don't know what got into me, but I bought the whole ensemble, and was left with only two dollars to spare. I wasn't able to buy a single gift. I went back to my room with an empty wallet—and two large shopping bags. I immediately hid everything behind my old dresses. Ellen and I shared a closet, and I didn't want her to notice the outfit before the dance. She had seen every dress I already owned, so I had to be careful to hide this one way in the back.

On the night of the dance, I told Ellen that I was planning to stop by at some point. She wanted to do my hair and show me how to put on makeup, but I just laughed and told her that I didn't want to go to all that fuss. I would get dressed after I finished my reading, and would join her later.

As soon as she left, I began to prepare. I curled my hair, polished my nails, and put on some makeup. I slipped into my black dress and high heels, then adorned myself with my pearl jewelry. Pleased with this new look, I walked over to Marci's room to show her. She was not in, so I left her a quick note saying that I was going to the dance. Then I headed to Sister Reed's office.

When Sister Reed saw me standing before her, she gasped. "Sookan, you are exquisite! What a stunning outfit. Is it new?"

I nodded. She gazed at the pin and pearls she had given me. "Dear, you look stunning! Now, go have a wonderful time. I am so delighted to see you finally attending a dance. It's about time!" Like a proud, loving mother, she watched me walk away.

I became apprehensive as I approached the dance hall and heard the laughter and music. I didn't know how to dance, and I wondered if I would even know how to mingle with college boys.

The hall was jammed, and everyone looked wonderful. The West Pointers were spiffy in their starched uniforms and spit-shined shoes, and all the girls looked so graceful in their flowing skirts as they twirled about the dance floor. Overwhelmed, I stood at the entrance for a minute. Ellen was at the punch bowl, and I watched the wave of surprise that washed over her features when she noticed me. "Sookan? Is it you?! Where did that dress come from? Who got you ready?"

"I know how to get myself dressed, Ellen," I said.

"You are wicked to shock me like this; I'm going to have a heart attack right here. You're so stylish! Kyle, where is Tom Winston? Oh, there you are, Tom. Come here. I want you to meet my roommate, Sookan." Ellen grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowds, introducing me to all the men. I was amazed at how easy it was to talk to everyone. It was exciting to be surrounded by handsome strangers, and to talk and drink punch and listen to music. Now, I could see why Ellen liked these gatherings so much.

Ellen suggested that I dance with Tom, even though I had told her many times that I didn't know how. But, Tom stepped toward me and assured me it was easy. He gently led me to the crowded dance floor and, deftly putting his arm around my waist, he started to lead.

"See, you already know how to dance," he said. "It's as natural as walking or talking. Later, I'll show you some fancy steps if you'd like."

I didn't answer. I was getting a bit nervous dancing so closely. Suddenly, I felt hungry and weak. I realized I hadn't eaten lunch. "Do you think we could go taste some more of that punch Ellen made?" I said.

Ellen winked at me. I knew I had made her happy; it was important to her that everyone enjoyed her parties.

Later, Ellen suggested to Kyle, Tom, and me that we all go to the Hilltop for drinks. I had often heard of it; it was a favorite hangout on the hill behind campus. We agreed and all hopped into Kyle's car for the short ride there.

I'm not sure exactly what I had expected, but I was surprised by the dingy, dimly lit restaurant, with its old wooden floors covered with sawdust. The music was blaring, but everyone was talking and laughing, and the hamburgers and onion rings smelled terrific.

"Hi, Ellen, I've reserved a table for you," said a man in his thirties, whom I later learned was the owner.

Many of our classmates were there, with drinks in hand, talking animatedly. Some waved to me, obviously surprised to see me there.

"What can I get you?" the waiter asked me.

"A glass of orange juice, please."

"Sookan, they make a terrific screwdriver here," Ellen said. "You've got to try it."

"One screwdriver coming up," the waiter quickly noted. 1 had no idea what a screwdriver was, but I didn't object. I knew Ellen was determined to expose me to "the college experience." Besides, I knew it was important to her that I seem with-it in front of Kyle and Tom. But when the drink came, it tasted to me like orange juice that had gone bad and I sipped it slowly.

I talked mostly to Tom, who sat next to me and wanted to know all about my classes and my jobs. He had a friendly, boyish smile, and I enjoyed comparing my experiences to his at Princeton.

Ellen said I needed to refresh my drink, but since I didn't like the one I had, I asked to switch to ginger ale.

"Oh, no, how about a Tom Collins—in Tom's honor," Ellen suggested. This one was cool and sweet, and I drank it down as I talked.

When we left the Hilltop, Ellen tried to convince me to spend the weekend with her at her home. We would visit the boys at Princeton, she said. But my head was starting to pound, so I asked her to drop me off at the dorm.

Ellen gave me a hug, and whispered, "I'm so glad you came tonight. Promise me we'll do this again."

"Bye, Sookan. It was great to see you again," said Kyle.

Then Tom offered me his arm and walked me to the front door of the dorm.

"I really enjoyed this evening." He hesitated, then added, "I would like to see you again. May I call you?" He gently held my hand in both of his, and waited for my response.

Flustered, I faltered, then hurriedly responded, "Yes, well, I had a good time, too. Good night." I pulled my hand from his, and ran inside.

As I walked down the corridor, I saw that Marci's door was open. "Did you have a good time?" she called out. "You didn't see me, but I walked by and peeked from the doorway. I saw you chatting with a tall, very cute guy. Who was he?"

"Oh, Kyle's roommate," I said.

"He was your
date?
" Marci squealed.

"No, he wasn't my date. We all just went to the Hilltop together."

"He
thought
he was your date. I could tell," she said. "He liked you. Was he nice? Did you have a good time?"

"He was very nice. He even offered his coat when he thought mine wasn't warm enough."

"I bet he's going to call you soon."

"No, he won't. Well, actually, he might. But I don't have the time to spend another evening like tonight. 1 have such a headache," I said, rubbing my temples.

"What did you drink?" Marci asked.

"Orange juice and some punch. But they had funny names—I forget. One of them was called Tom something."

"A screwdriver and a Tom Collins! No wonder you have a headache. Ellen should have warned you that those have vodka and whiskey in them. You'll be okay in the morning."

"Vodka and whiskey? What are those?" I asked.

"Alcohol. Booze," Marci said.

"You mean I went out on a date
and
drank alcohol? That sounds so wild!" I said. "Actually, though, there was nothing wild about it. But if my sister ever found out, she would really think I was losing my values."

"Don't worry. You need to get away from your books, the library, and the nuns once in a while. You know, you surprised everyone. I heard the girls talking about how smashing you looked."

"They all think of me as a mousy bookworm. Lately, I have been, I guess. But it's because I still don't feel completely comfortable with English, and I have to study so hard to keep up with everyone else. Sometimes I fantasize about being a famous diplomat. I imagine that I am tall and glamorous, and that I can charm people into signing all sorts of peace treaties. Well, anyway, that's enough of that. Maybe I'm drunk!"

Marci followed me to my room and watched as I took off my shoes and removed my makeup.

"So, you did have a good time, didn't you?" she asked again.

"I had a wonderful time. In fact, I enjoyed myself so much that it scared me. If I keep doing this, my studies will suffer. But I just wanted to go once to make Ellen happy, and to prove to her that I'm capable of looking elegant and of having fun. It was extravagant of me. I spent all of my money on this outfit, and I didn't even get any gifts to send home to my family." I thought of the soft leather purse I still hadn't bought for my mother. "And I didn't purchase any of those things my sister asked for! If she ever found out that I spent all of my money on a velvet outfit and went out on a date and drank alcohol—"

"Sookan, you have to remember that you didn't do anything wrong. It's okay. You can't let your sister make you feel guilty about taking one little, harmless break. You deserved it!"

"It's funny," I said. "I know my mother would tell me it was all right. She would acknowledge that I had done something impulsive, but would say that it was okay. My sister, though, would criticize and lecture me. It's amazing how differently she and my mother respond to the exact same situations. Even to the same letter."

"What do you mean?" Marci asked.

"Well, 1 wrote my family a quick letter about how you and I made Korean food and had a little party here. My mother wrote back and said she thought it was wonderful that we had done such a thing. But my sister said that I shouldn't have dared to cook for foreigners. She said that it was arrogant of me to try, that I don't know how to cook, and that I probably did a great injustice to Korean cuisine. She said I should have done something more worthwhile with my time."

"That's ridiculous. Everyone loved it."

"When I was in Korea, I thought everything my sister said was right. But now I find that I don't always agree with her, and I resent the way she tries to control every aspect of my life. Then, as soon as I think those things, I feel guilty about being so disrespectful. Maybe it's just that I'm so far away, and I'm in a culture that she can't understand. Or maybe it's the difference in our ages. I don't know. I wish I could make some sense of it."

"I don't think it's any of those things," Marci said. "It's not distance or the culture that makes it hard to understand each other. Look at me: I live fifteen minutes away from home and see my parents once a month, and I still sometimes feel they are from another planet! I guess the age difference can sometimes make things harder; my parents and your sister are older and think they know everything. Maybe that's it. But you don't have those problems with your mother, do you?"

"Oh, no. My mother doesn't push me at all. She trusts me. She always says she knows I'll do just fine. It makes me feel good to know she believes in me."

"Yeah, that's all I want. I just wish my father would try to understand me and would trust that I know what I want out of life."

"Yes, that's all I want from my sister, too," I agreed. "I wonder if she has any idea how important her approval is to me? Her letters haunt me. Every time I enjoy myself, I think of her, and wonder what she would be saying. Just like tonight."

"Sookan, she is not a good sister to you. She's making you miserable. You've got to tell her to stop trying to run your life!"

Marci had said this to me before. It had been shocking to me then, when all I could think about was how disgraceful it would be not to obey my sister. I would bring shame on her, myself, and my family.
How my brothers would chastise me,
I had thought. But now, I was slowly beginning to feel that I didn't always have to obey my sister. Just because she was older didn't guarantee that she had the right answer for me.

In Korea, I wouldn't have even dreamed of thinking this way. But maybe that was why I had wanted to leave home for a while; I had always felt constrained there. My brothers and my sister used to remind me constantly that I was too expressive, too sensitive, too direct, and too ambitious for a girl. Here, everyone encouraged and complimented me.
Am I becoming vain?
I wondered.
Is the
problem with me, and not with my sister?
I was tired of waffling between anger and guilt.

"Marci," I said, "perhaps we should be more thankful that we have people who care about us. After all, strangers don't drive us crazy like this. Only people who love us can cause us this much pain."

"I suppose. All I know is that I can't wait to go to Greece this summer. My family suffocates me; I just need to get away for a while. Did I tell you I found a classics group that travels through Greece performing plays in ancient amphitheaters?"

She suddenly looked so excited. I was going to miss her during those three months. "I wish you could come with me," she said, seeming to read my thoughts.

"Me, too."

"Are you all set with your summer job?" Marci asked me.

"It's all been arranged. I'll be working on campus. A Gregorian chant program is scheduled for June, and students will be coming from around the world. I volunteered to help at registration, and to give tours of the campus during the first week. After that, I'll be working for Miss Mullen in the placement office. I'm going to try to apply some of the work hours to my scholarship hours for next year, and to save as much money as possible. My dream is to be able to send my mother and maybe even my little brother, Inchun, plane tickets so that they can come to my graduation and then fly back home with me."

"Well, set some time aside in August," Marci said, smiling. "When I get back, we can go visit my aunt in Philadelphia together."

We hadn't solved our problems, but talking had been a much-needed release. After Marci went back to her room, I took off my dress and hung it carefully next to my cream silk dress in the closet. It didn't look as elegant as it had when I first saw it in the store. I felt frivolous for having bought it. I should have done my duty first. The cream dress would have been fine.