My Songbird's Dream

29. From moon to paradise

Etta Osi Walker
January, 1945
Occupied Seoul

Madame Park's imposing figure slowly walked into the lounge's private upper rooms, once more.

She glanced about briskly, as if I might conveniently fade from view given slight chance. But upon finding me arranging song sheets by the piano, her scrutinizing gaze turned reluctantly approving.

"Ah, Miss Walker. Diligent as always I see." The awkward pleasantries still came out stilted as she smiled awkwardly much unlike herself. She cleared her throat once, before looking down at her feet.

I murmured something politely noncommittal, pulse already quickening. We had exchanged only the most essential words since her dramatic discovery of my continued presence here. And of Daniel.

As if conjured, childish laughter rang out from the adjoining room. Madame Park angled slightly towards the happy sound, curiosity plain on her face.

She smiled for a moment. "And the little one...Daniel, was it? Is he quite well today?" She attempted a congenial tone but it rang hollow. My guard cinched tighter.

"He is, thank you." I busied my trembling hands reordering the same sheets. Sensing her keen attention, I added reluctantly, "I was about to bring him down for his lunch if you would..." I faltered over the invitation I could not actually voice.

But Madame Park seized on it anyway, clasping her hands with brittle delight. "Oh yes, might I...assist with his meal?"

I wavered, blinking rapidly against old instincts urging me to hide Daniel from her imperious scrutiny. But refusing again could undo our fragile progress.

Forcing a smile that felt ghastly stiff, I led the way to the small kitchen nearby. As we entered, Daniel glanced up from playing on the floor, curiosity shifting to burgeoning shyness seeing this imposing stranger. He tucked back against my skirts when Madame Park knelt smoothly beside him.

"What do we have here?" she murmured. Her usually sharp features softened looking upon Daniel's sweet face. He gripped my leg tighter, ducking behind in a rare show of reticence.

I stroked his hair gently. "Daniel, this nice woman has come to visit you again." At my tentative urging, he peeked out once more with large eyes.

Madame Park extended one kid gloved hand, its rich silk and embroidered flowers likely costing more than my entire wardrobe.

After an hesitant beat, Daniel reached to pat at the pretty colors. She clasped his little hand with utmost care, smile quavering.

"There now, no need for alarm..." she whispered thickly. Holding his touch as though engraving precious seconds into memory. As though determined to rewrite our uneasy history with pure force of will.

The vulnerable hope I glimpsed then finally cracked my wary reserve. This powerful matriarch knelt humbly before my son, allowing him to explore her kneeling figure, touch her pearls and hairpins with childish curiosity. No demands made for affection, simply opening her heart to receive whatever small crumbs he offered.

I released a long breath, some hard knot inside me loosening its vice-like grip witnessing her gentleness. For now at least, Daniel seemed content under her spell.