A Boy Only for Nine Months
by Ik-Hwan Kim

Outside, a storm raged. Inside the delivery room, my grandfather, sitting by the window, held his hands together. He made a whispering sound, praying for another grandson. “I’m glad that there will be someone to inherit my surname,” he said to my grandmother.

Both assumed the baby would be a boy.

“Dad, we are not even sure it is a boy,” my aunt reminded them.

“It for sure is a boy,” Grandmother said. “This time, I went to a really good fortuneteller, who always gives accurate information. It absolutely is a boy.”

My aunt started to make a high-pitched scream, and her four-year-old daughter, who was a boy for nine months just like the one being born, started to cry. My grandparents, however, didn’t lose their smiles in the room full of screams and cries. Their smiles got brighter each time my aunt screamed.

The sound of a baby’s cry burst out, making their smiles even brighter.

“It’s a girl!” the nurse said.

Suddenly, their faces changed. They were filled with sorrow.

The hospital became a hell, full of females who would not be able to inherit his surname.

When my aunt woke up and got the news that it was a girl, she cried. Her daughter hugged her. She looked down at the lump of flesh, the devil that had caused serious discord with its gender. She opened her mouth carefully and slowly, as if she were opening a heavy door made of rock, and asked, “Is this my brother you talked about?”

“No, dear,” my grandfather said. “It’s not your brother. It is a girl like you are. It’s your sister.”

“So, what is the difference?” After a long pause, my cousin asked again.

“Well. . .” my grandfather hesitated. “You will understand when you grow up, dear.”

Outside, the rain started to pour, and only the sound of baby crying came out from the room.