| My father has been unemployed for several months
since he lost the sight of one eye. He got a job of public labor
a few days ago, which is for the mountain purification. He was
so happy to work again. At the previous night of his workday,
he looked like a child who was looking forward to his picnic
day. Composing a list of his things for the work, he was getting
them together carefully, with a leap of his heart.
Next morning, he was ready to leave for work earlier than
the scheduled time. There was room enough for him to stay
home, but he left home with me. We happened to meet our village
folks when we were to go off the outskirts of a village. Being
proud of himself, he yelled at them, Im going to work. He
was being animated all the time. I was, however, not in mood
for being accompanied by him. A well-grounded silence has
continued between us. I have thought he was old-fashioned
and inflexible. That made me daughter with few words to him.
We occupied the fore part of the bus. The passengers who
were getting on the bus bothered my father, pushing him by
the heavy bag on him. It has become quite spring-like, and
I was in a flimsy dress for show. As we were overflowing with
people, I was in a sweat in spite of my flimsy dress. He clothed
himself thickly in consideration of his working in a mountain.
He was rather hanging on a strap from the bus ceiling because
of his short legs, with his heavy bag. Beads of sweat streamed
down under his eye bandage. I broke the silence for the first
time since we left home.
Isnt it hot? Why did you clothe yourself so thickly?
He, who was looking out the window, turned and smiled at
me so brightly as if he had been waiting for my call. Beads
of sweat stood out on his forehead plentifully. I had to get
off the bus on the next stop. When I was getting down from
the bus, I searched for my father. I could not find him at
all because he was surrounded by tall passengers.
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