Even If I Wanted To

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    The next morning, SH was awoken by an American slipping into her room.

    She jolted up, prepared to defend herself, only to realize that it was a woman, unarmed. Still, she struggled into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, wary.

     “Hello.” The foreigner put a little kit down on the floor, adjusting her striped white cap on her head. That, combined with the white smock and long skirt she was wearing, made SH realize she was a nurse.

    A few seconds later, she confirmed it.

     “I’m Grace Hartman, but just Grace will do.” She tossed a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “I’m your new nurse.”

    “What about Kangwon?” SH asked.

     The woman pursed her red lips. “So, like, I’ve spent enough time with America to know you guys can all understand everything, but I can’t speak Korean. I grew up in Tennessee, so not a lot of a chance to learn.”

     SH had to wonder if that was intentional. Kangwon probably wasn’t allowed out of the holding camp, and she doubted America wanted to give her the chance to talk to one of the southern nurses. Frustratingly clever, since she was sure that if she were given enough alone time with one of her people, she could clear them of reactionary influence.

   “Okay, let’s get that dress off.”

    SH had slept in her choson-ot, wanting the extra protection it gave her. She undid the strings that tied her jeogori, slipping the jacket off to reveal her bandages.

     “Yikes, that looks bad,” Grace said. SH had to wonder where she went to nursing school. “I think those dresses you guys wear are sooo pretty. Some of them are just boring white, but the colours on yours are real nice. I heard your brother shot you, that's craaaazy.”

    SH blinked, unable to respond, not solely because of the language barrier.

    “My brother, he’s a little older, he died in the war against the Japs. Guess it was a good thing he didn’t shoot me. Some of the guys, they come home from war all screwed up, like my dad.” She unwound the bandages, letting cool air play over SH’s wound. “He came home and he shot my mom, then himself. Isn’t that, like, insane? I was off trying to get my degree so he didn’t get to shoot me. I’m kind of lucky twice, if you think about it. I wish I could wear a dress like this, but nipped waists are in right now, so I could never. I know that kind of makes me a square, but like, trends are trends for a reason, and America is super into my silhouette, obviously. Oh my God, I seriously didn’t even ask your name.”

     “SH,” SH said, bemused.

     “Hannah?” Grace raised her eyebrows as she cleaned out the province’s wound with a swab. “I didn’t think Koreans called people Hannah.”

    “SH,” SH repeated.

   “I had a friend named Hannah once, back in school. She was super pretty. We used to have some bitchin’ times.” She frowned into the distance for a moment. “Haven’t seen her in awhile. Oh well.”

    The pronunciation was close enough, she supposed. SH was starting to wish she had been learning English, like Hwang.

    “So this is probably gonna be just fine,” the woman said as she rebandaged her chest and shoulder. “I mean, you might be less fine mentally or something, because it probably sucks to have your brother shoot you. My mom was probably so pissed when dad shot her. Nineteen years of marriage, then one little war flips your lid enough to blow out your wife’s brains when she’s making mashed potatoes? Sometimes I wonder if they were even in love. I hope this war doesn’t flip America’s lid, and he blows my brains out or something.” She laughed at the idea.

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