just follow the cat

Bean 2 - The Time of Rising Expectations

43 years before today

Seoul, South Korea

day #1 through day #269

If you've ever planted beans in a garden, you know all about beans and bean poles. You know how important it is to plant a pole at almost the same moment that the seed goes into the ground. It's the anchor that keeps everything in its proper place. If you wait even a few days, it can be too late. The reason is simple; beans absolutely love beanpoles. They climb up them, curl around them, and hug them like the first day with a newfound love. Right after the earliest shoots poke through the soil, pastel green filaments are covering the pole in a perfect shade of spring paint. Honestly, there is something joyous about the speed at which they grow. If you didn't know better, you'd swear that they were actually happy to be alive.

In contrast, beans without a pole aren't nearly as happy. They're miserable, in fact. When they should be their happiest, the crazed plants are running along the ground, crossing paths, and choking the soil. They have no mission in life. No anchor to hold them in place. From a distance, they look orderly, but close up they're just a horribly tangled (and pathetic) mess. They're like the mounting excuses you tell yourself before you finally admit to a lie.

And admitting any lie can take a long time because it is easier to believe a lie than it is to tell one. While this concept is fairly simple, it probably has an unfamiliar feel to it. In fact, most people never give it much thought. What's worse is that an unfortunate number of these individuals realize the importance of the concept well after it could do them any good. Pak Mi-Hyun falls into this category. You see, she was trying with all her faculties to ignore the bean growing inside her. And when ignoring it didn't work, she tried to forget that anything had happened. Finally, she even tried to will the little bean into oblivion like a tiny hydrogen atom drifting aimlessly through deep space. A single proton, neutron, and electron floating forever before bumping into anything else hiding in the emptiness.

When Mi-Hyun's monthly friend skipped her usual appointment, she told herself, "Life is hard for everyone." And she was right. It was hard. But beans wait for no one. In that first month, her little bean was like an Appaloosa bean – half chocolate-brown and half drenched in the palest shade of beige.

At two months, the divisions between light and dark began to invade each other's space in such a way that the Appaloosa bean looked more like an Anasazi bean with its swirling and curving boundaries separating the chocolate from the beige. Mi-Hyun said to herself, "These days, nothing is the same."

Again, she was right. And nothing stayed the same inside her because the Anasazi bean was also changing. It changed until it looked like a Speckled Calico bean. "Why should it matter?" she told herself. "Nothing happened back then. It was only a dream."

Mi-Hyun believed that most important lie almost to the end. It was reiterated daily. Each morning, she prayed to God hoping to have Him transform Her lie into His truth. This divine chemistry would fail, of course, because God doesn't deal in petty miracles. With His valuable time, He invents light and dark, heaven and Earth, stars and moons, and assumes dominion over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the Earth.

Each evening after her prayers, Mi-Hyun measured her waistline to check on His progress. As she prepared for bed, she unfurled a string with two black marks – one on either end. Before measuring her abdomen, she draped it around her neck. Although it was only a simple cotton string, she treated it as if it were a fine silver necklace with two perfect black pearls dangling loosely from the tips. Then she'd slide the fancy necklace around her naked abdomen and pull it tight. As time went on, she found it necessary to pull the string tighter so the marks would be aligned just as they had been the day before.

"See," she said to herself. "It was only a dream." And as long as she repeated this lie, she could sleep soundly for another night.

But at seven months, her nightly dreams had to find a new home. Misshapen and unmarried, Mi-Hyun was also unwanted. As she exited the front door of her former home, she carried only a small satchel. Well, it wasn't actually a small satchel. To be accurate, it was four canvas ammunition pouches bound together by a string. The string had two black marks tagging either end. For a brief time, those marks had looked like perfect black pearls strung together by strands of fine silver. But now, the once gleaming string had become more useful as...well...as simply a string.

Had there been more time, Mi-Hyun might have carried an armload of knickknacks with her. She had a delicate porcelain teacup and a cracked ivory elephant on a shelf above her bed. There was also an elegant pair of painted chopsticks. They had red and gold dragon tails curling around the wood.

Had there been just a little more time, Mi-Hyun might have brought along some multi-colored hair ribbons and fine ladies' gloves. These had belonged to her mother, but they were hidden inside a pillow. In her rush to leave, she had forgotten them.

Had there been just a fraction of a second more time, she might have asked why she had to leave in such a hurry. With her neighbors assisting, the packing took only a few minutes. As the front door swung open, the four ammunition pouches were stuffed with:

    1) an extra pair of shoes

    2) one comb

    3) one tiny hand mirror

    4) and a small pair of scissors

Also making the trip were:

    1) 5 changes of clothing worn one on top of the other

    2) and, of course, one small Speckled Calico bean that was growing inside her at an alarming rate.

And still, beans wait for no one. Soon, the Speckled Calico bean took on the appearance of an everyday, ordinary, brown-on-brown Pinto bean. Amazingly, out of this ordinariness came a spectacular bean – an Eye of the Goat bean. Deep brown swirls like eyes peering into the future. What's more amazing is that the Goat Bean was the perfect bean to end this part of the journey. On day #269, Mi-Hyun's Little Brown Bean was born in the first millisecond of the first day of the Year of the Goat. Some power somewhere in the universe had surely ordained that, right?

But, of course, once the baby took its first breath, it was no longer a bean. It was now a smaller-than-average baby with rich caramel-brown skin (a bit paler than the father's and a bit darker than its mother's). The baby had perfect fingers, perfect toes, and a perfect disposition. It was such a beautiful baby. In fact, no baby every born was more lovable – as long as you didn't look at those miraculous three-colored eyes. From that moment and for every moment going forward, those eyes were like lighthouse beacons focusing the world's attention on Mi-Hyun's indiscretion.

You should also know that the Little Brown Bean was a girl. A nameless little girl who was wanted by no one and yet arrived in perfect shape at the perfect moment of the perfect year. Beans, you see, wait for no one.