Impossible Fairy Tale, The by Yujoo Han

Author:Yujoo, Han [Yujoo, Han]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fairy Tales, Fiction, Fantasy, Novel, Translated
ISBN: 978-1-55597-960-7
Publisher: Graywolf Press
Published: 2016-10-15T02:00:00+00:00

21

The weekend passes. Another Monday. The teacher doesn’t speak a word about the stolen journals until the end of the last class. The right side of the Child’s face is badly swollen. It happened on Saturday, or perhaps Sunday. Or maybe Thursday, or perhaps Friday. No one seems concerned about her face. The teacher assumes she has caught the mumps. No, the teacher doesn’t think about the Child at all. No one approaches the teacher with a flushed face, even when the last class ends. He has no choice but to think of the petty authority and dignity granted to him as a teacher. He must take responsibility for his words, at a minimum follow through with his threats. But no one has come to him offering a confession, accusation, or excuse of any kind. He also has a child. But the fact that he has a child in middle school is no help at all right now. The children’s expressions, the children’s gestures, the children’s speech, are a complete mystery to him. Even if he were to scrutinize all thirty-five students one at a time, he lacks the means to discover which child was capable of such an act. Which child. He decides to remain silent. For the time being. He decides to wait. For the time being. At the end of class, he tells the students on classroom duty to clean with greater care than usual. Those not on duty noisily open and close their bags, and escape from the classroom. There are eight children left. Awkwardly, Inju waves at Mia and leaves. Mia, the Child, and the rest of the children drag the desks to the back of the room. Mia, who spent the entire weekend crying, also has a swollen face. Mia has hardly spoken to Inju today. Inju had asked if anything was the matter, but Mia had merely given her the same answer—I’m fine—over and over again. The Child glances at Mia’s face. With her mouth tightly shut, Mia is sweeping. Hair ties, erasers, and notes that were secretly passed in class get swept up by Mia’s broom. The teacher isn’t there. The Child thinks this is her chance to approach Mia. She must interrogate Mia. I hate you. I hate you. It hurts. I despise you. A fire is hot. A long and hard thing. A needle is pointy. It hurts. It hurts so much I can hardly bear it. I want to kill, too. I want to kill. Bad things are painful. Painful things are bad. I want to kill, too. I despise you. It hurts. I hate you. Dust rises from the end of the broom.

Stifling her anxiety, the Child observes Mia. Are you friends? Mia’s mother had asked. She’s in my class, Mia had said. The Child isn’t Mia’s friend. Mia would never pour out her heart to the Child. What she had seen. What she hadn’t seen. Right now, Mia’s head is filled with thoughts of her two fathers and mother.

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