"Thank you for your help the other day."
"It's nothing."
"I should have said this earlier. Thank you."
"I want to talk to you. Not here."
"Where?" She should have asked why, she realized.
"I'll come to the beach behind your house. Near the large black rocks where the tide is low. You do the wash there by the cove." He wanted her to know that he knew a little about her life. "Can you com alone?"
Sunja looked down at her shopping baskets. She didn't know what to tell him, but she wanted to speak with him some more. Her mother would never allow it, however.
"Can you get away tomorrow morning? Around this time?"
"I don't know."
"Is afternoon better."
"After the men leave for the day, I think," she found herself sayingk, her voice trailing off.
He was waiting for her by the black rocks, reading a newspaper. The sea was bluer than she had remembered, and the long, thin clouds seemed paler-everything seemed more vibrant with him here. The corners of his newspater fluttered with the breeze, and he grasped them firmly, but when he saw her approaching, he folded the paper and put it under his arm. He didn't move toward her, but let her come to him. She continued to walk steadily, a large wrapped bundle of dirty clothes balanced on her head.
"Sir," she said, trying not to sound afraid. She couldn't bow, so she put her hands around the bundle to remove it, but Hansu quickly reached over to lift trhe load from her hand, and she straightened her back he laid the wash on the dry rocks.
"Sir, thank you."
"You should call me Oppa. You don't have a brotgher, and I don't have a sister. You can be mine."
Sunja said nothing.
"This is nice." Hansu's eyes searched the cluster of low waves in the middel of the sea and settled on the horrizon. "It's not as becauiful as Jeju, but it has a similar feeling.