The Surrendered

The only child who never played or cheered was June. Hector sometimes saw her slip into the high brush of the valley, or into the dormitory, making a point of disappearing for the entire time. It was as if June couldn’t bear the sight of the others enjoying Sylvie’s company, even as it was evident to all how special her own position was. But one afternoon she emerged from the brush behind Hector’s quarters and stood leaning against the corner of the building as he cleaned rust from some tools with a scraper and a rag soaked in kerosene. The game now was especially spirited, for it was the boys against the girls and Sylvie, and he could see in her tensed chin that June was wanting to join the action.

“Go ahead, why don’t you.”

“I don’t want to,” she told him. “The boys are losing. They need you.”

“I have work to do.”

“You always have work.” She spoke to him in the declarative tone she employed with everyone except Sylvie Ta

He replied, “I like work.”

“No, you don’t. You do it for another reason.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Because you don’t want to have fun.” She said it seriously but was smiling at him, slyly but almost broadly, at least for her. It was the first time she’d ever smiled at him (and maybe at anyone else) since he’d met her on the road, and he was surprised by how fetching and kindly her face could become.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, wiping the rusty leavings from the spade with a cloth. “What’s your excuse?”

She was watching the game intently now, as one of the older girls, a very pretty, very round-faced girl named Mi-Young, was celebrating a goal with Sylvie, hugging and laughing.

“Same,” June said, with sudden seriousness.

“I guess that makes us birds of a feather.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Flocking together. Enjoying our no fun.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Forget it. You want to scrape that shovel head for me?”

She glanced at the game and then diffidently nodded and he tossed her the wire brush. She held the wooden handle and went at it hard, as though she were playing a cello but trying to break the strings.

“Take it easy,” he told her.

“Why?”

“You’re going to breathe in the rust.”

“So?”

“It can’t be good for you.”

“It’s okay.”

“You want to live a long life?”

“Yes,” she answered, with near defiance, as if he were somehow threatening her.

“All right, then.”

She didn’t answer him but soon she slowed her scraping, carefully blowing away the dark orange dust after every half-dozen or so passes with the brush. The game grew more raucous and vocal, the aunties and children on the sidelines guffawing and cheering whenever there was a nifty pass or a good shot, but he and June simply tossed the damp rag back and forth, both subconsciously trying to show their lack of interest in the game, which would have been easy had Sylvie Ta

“May I play now?” she asked Sylvie.

“Of course!”

“I’ll play with them,” she said, pointing to the boys.

“Even better!”

The boys protested but Sylvie would have none of it. She whistled through her fingers and put the ball into play by nudging it to June, who without hesitance bolted by her and then passed it to Hyun, who had broken toward the goal. He scored easily. The boys whooped and hollered as the girls cried foul that they weren’t yet ready.

“Let them play like that, girls,” Sylvie exhorted them, lining up the ball at midfield again. She was beaming at June, obviously pleased by her unexpected involvement, though crouched in an athletic, ready stance. “We’ll win our way.”

The game was a tight contest from that point on. Mi-Young scored next, but then the boys’ team put in three in a row to tie the score. Everyone could see that the difference was June. She was adept enough at dribbling and passing, but it was her tireless, almost furious play on defense that changed the flow of the game. The boys had been holding back somewhat in checking the girls, but this was not the case with June; she threw herself at whoever had the ball, and covered Sylvie closely so they couldn’t pass to her, and then relentlessly hounded Mi-Young, who was their best player. They were the same size and age and perhaps rivals in that Mi-Young was well liked by all the girls and seen as a mentoring big sister (the girls would crowd around her cot in the dormitory), whereas June was June, someone to avoid, or at least to give a wide berth to. But now June was bringing the action right to her. If Mi-Young was near, June would bump her, and whenever she had the ball June would lean into her roughly and fiercely kick at the ball. Mi-Young would push back with equal force and kick at June as well, neither girl wearing anything on her feet, and by the end of the match they had gouged jagged little cuts into each other’s ankles and calves with their toenails. Sensing that their mutual malice was now detracting from the friendly mood of the game, Sylvie a

Mi-Young came up swinging; she madly pounced on June, all fists and fingernails, and for a moment no one did anything, paralyzed by her uncharacteristic, explosive rage. Hector actually confused the two of them, sure that only June could be as furious as that. He was the first to reach them, and as he pried Mi-Young from her he was struck by how June left herself wide open as Mi-Young wildly rained down blows, not even curling up in a ball, not even shielding her face. When Sylvie got there she instinctively fell upon June to cover her and it was only then that June began to cry. It was like any girl’s weeping, the sobs breathy and plangent, but no one had ever seen June cry before and the sight and sound of it was oddly awesome, everyone (including Mi-Young) standing by silently. Then Sylvie spoke, murmuring to her that she would be all right. But June didn’t look all right; there were ugly scratches on her cheeks and nose and her lip was bleeding and one eye was already turning purplish and inky with a bruise. It was wholly her own fault, yet she was the injured one, and Sylvie helped her up and the two of them walked back to the Ta

After that, June didn’t play in any of the games. Whenever Hector saw her outside in the yard or at the dining tables under the pavilion she appeared to keep herself at a distance from Sylvie and the other children. She continued working in the Ta