Princess Bari Read Online Free Page A

Sook began to shriek. Her face turned bright red from screaming, but since she couldn’t speak, no one knew what was wrong. She was holding something in her hand and shaking it: a single scorched trainer. It seemed that the trainer, which had been washed the night before and set on top of the warm, wood-burning stove to dry, had fallen in front of the open flames. Naturally, Sook and Jung wore identical blue trainers. Clever Jung had snatched up the unscathed pair and put them on, claiming they were hers, and left the burned shoe where she’d found it. Sook threw the burned shoe and hurled herself at Jung, grabbing her around the waist and tackling her. Jung squirmed and struggled as Sook pulled the undamaged shoes off Jung’s feet. That was her way of saying they were hers. Unwilling to admit defeat, Jung bit her arm. Their screaming and crying shook the whole neighbourhood. Father, who was steaming with anger, changed his mind about leaving for work and made them line up at the edge of the twenmaru so he could take a switch to their calves.
    â€œNot a moment’s peace in this house on account of you two girls!”
    The morning had been ruined for everyone; the entire family stood and watched as Father hit the girls on the calves with the switch. But right then, I heard Sook’s voice inside my head: But it was Jung’s. Her shoes were on top of the stove. Mine were by the gate. The neighbour’s cat has been sneaking into the kitchen to steal dried fish. I saw the cat run off with one last night. I unconsciously babbled these words, which were buzzing in my ears. Father paused and Grandmother went to check the top of the cupboard next to the stove.
    â€œWhat happened to that dried pollock I was planning to add to the soup?” she asked.
    Relieved, Mother grabbed the switch away from Father and said: “See? It’s the cat’s fault.”
    Father muttered something about “too many damn girls killing me with all this racket” as he picked up his files and documents one by one and left for work, while Grandmother comforted Jung and Sook.
    â€œWhy don’t we ask your father to buy you two some new shoes on his way home from work? Hurry on to school now.”
    After my sisters had all gone, and I was the only one left at home, Mother said: “Well, that was strange. How did she figure out what Sook was trying to say?”
    â€œWhat’d I tell you? Our Bari inherited the gift.”
    Mother blanched.
    â€œPlease,” she said, “don’t ever mention those old wives’ tales of yours in front of their father.”

T wo
    O ne day, I think around the time I started school, Hindungi met up with a boy dog and got pregnant, despite being, as Grandmother put it, well into her old-lady years. The grown-ups all clucked their tongues and exclaimed what a disgrace it was, but Hindungi strutted about the courtyard, her sagging belly and teats swaying. She gave birth late one winter night when no one was looking. We were all lying in a row beneath the blankets when we overheard Grandmother and Mother whispering outside the door.
    â€œHow many are there?” Grandmother asked.
    â€œOne … two … three … What the –! Seven! ”
    â€œWill wonders never cease? They say flowers can bloom on an old tree, and sure enough this old granny’s had herself seven babies.”
    The next morning, before Mother could come in, pull back our blankets and smack us on the butt to tell us to hurry, get up, get ready for school, we all rose at once as if on cue. Some of us rushed to change clothes first while the others spilled out into the courtyard in our long underwear. As we crowded in front of the doghouse like a school of minnows at the water’s edge, fighting over who would get to stick her face in the tiny doorway first, Hindungi – who had always been so gentle with us – stuck her head out the doorway, bared her teeth and