ACJY C17

Kwon Yongjun tried to lock the door again, but it still wasn’t easy. He jiggled the door several times, sighing in frustration. After wrestling with it for about five minutes, his face flushed red as he finally managed to lock it. He was quite handsome.

“You’re okay with cold soybean noodles, right?” Kwon Yongjun asked, slightly breathless.

“Yes, I like them.”

“Will you ride with me, or follow in your car?”

“I’ll ride with you.”

Taeheun followed Kwon Yongjun into the passenger seat of the Damas. The small van dipped significantly under his weight.

“So, why Gibeom hyung’s place, of all places?” Kwon Yongjun asked.

“Detective Oh recommended it. I told him I was tired and needed a quiet place to rest, and he suggested this place.”

He intentionally spoke casually, as if it were no big deal.

“Even so, Detective Oh is something else. Asking all sorts of favors from a single father with a child.”

Kwon Yongjun clearly disapproved of Taeheun staying at the man’s house.

“Gibeom hyung can’t cook.”

“It was delicious. I had yeolmu noodles.”

“That was delicious?”

“You must not have tried it. It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He even gave a thumbs-up, exaggerating his praise.

Kwon Yongjun only glanced at him before continuing.

“And the room… it was used as a storage room. Even after we cleaned it yesterday, it’s still a bit messy. He’s good at work, but not so much with cleaning and things like that. Anyway, it might smell a bit musty.”

He spoke as if he were the man’s lover or wife.

“You shouldn’t have bothered. I can sleep anywhere and eat anything. As you saw, I’ve been living like a beggar.”

“Well, that’s true,” Kwon Yongjun replied, sounding slightly put out.

“By the way, Yongjun, how old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Oh, I thought you were younger than me. Since you’re a year older, feel free to speak informally.”

“I will, in time.”

Kwon Yongjun’s expression was cold, as if he had no intention of doing so.

A brief silence fell. Kwon Yongjun, seemingly unable to tolerate it, spoke again.

“Does Gibeom hyung use honorifics with you?”

“Yes, for now.”

Taeheun added, “He’ll probably drop them as we live together.” A smile that suggested otherwise appeared on Kwon Yongjun’s face.

“He’ll continue to use them. That’s just his personality. He’s… steadfast, I guess you could say. He’s not stubborn, but once he decides on something, he sticks to it no matter what anyone says. He can be obstinate sometimes. Well, that’s part of his charm.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Annoyed, Taeheun glared at Kwon Yongjun before looking away. He habitually scratched his eyebrow, then touched the spot where the man had applied the bandage. He stroked the now smooth skin several times, as if the cut had never been there.

✽✽✽

Lunch with the village headman, which began around noon, turned into a drinking session that lasted past 5 p.m. Kwon Yongjun, stuck there because the headman kept pressing him to stay, called two more members of the youth group. Mr. Hwang, a village elder who looked three or four years older than the headman and a self-proclaimed Dongjaem-ri native, also joined them.

The six of them sat at the combined grocery store and bar, drinking and chatting. At first, they peppered Taeheun with personal questions, then shifted to pointless discussions about politics and the national economy.

Taeheun waited impatiently for the man to come and get him. But the man didn’t appear. His anger grew with each passing hour, and he began cursing inwardly. He drank like a fish, surrounded by strangers, listening to their nonsensical chatter.

The man finally showed up just as the drinking party was breaking up. It was only 6:30 p.m. He walked into the store and bowed in greeting. He was wearing faded red rubber boots and a towel around his neck, but thankfully, he had a shirt on.

“Jihye’s Pa! Finished work? Come sit down. It’s hot, isn’t it?”

The headman greeted him warmly, pulling up a chair.

“No, I have to go home,” the man replied, his eyes meeting Taeheun’s.

The anger that had been simmering inside Taeheun melted away at the sight of him. Overcome with relief, Taeheun waved and grinned foolishly. The man blushed. Embarrassed for some reason, he didn’t wait for Taeheun but excused himself and left.

“Jihye’s Pa is a bit taciturn,” Mr. Hwang chuckled, gesturing for Taeheun to follow.

“Everyone, it was nice drinking with you.”

Taeheun called out his goodbyes and left the store.

The man was pacing around his truck, parked in front of the store.

“I have to pick up Jihye,” he said, walking past the truck with long strides.

The boldness he’d shown when blowing on Taeheun’s foot was gone, replaced by shyness. Taeheun felt the same. He didn’t understand why he, someone naturally fearless and unembarrassed, was acting this way. But seeing the man again filled him with such relief that he couldn’t think straight. He simply followed the man’s broad back.

Despite wearing well-fitting boots, the man limped slightly. He seemed to walk with his feet turned out, his body leaning distinctly to the left. Taeheun trailed after him, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Where are we going?”

“To the church.”

“Why the church?”

“The pastor’s wife tutors the children.”

“The pastor’s wife?”

“Yes.”

Despite his taciturn nature, the man was surprisingly responsive.

“There’s no service on Wednesdays?”

“The pastor is out of town, so there’s no service.”

Taeheun intentionally stayed a couple of steps behind, continuing the conversation.

“Does Jihye take the bus to school, or do you take her?”

“The youth group members take turns driving the children to and from school.”

“How many children are there?”

“Five.”

“Only five elementary school students?”

“Three elementary… I mean, three elementary students and two middle school students.”

“That’s not many children.”

The man gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Do you go to church, too?”

“Yes.”

“Raised religious?”

“Not really.”

“Then why?”

“They provide lunch after Sunday service, and they tutor the children…”

The man’s answer was vague.

“That reminds me of my time in the army. I wasn’t there for even six months, but I went to temples, churches, and even Catholic mass for the free food. And you could daydream during the services without anyone noticing.”

The man glanced back at Taeheun.

“What? Do I look like I dodged the draft? Believe it or not, I was even encouraged to reenlist.”

Back then, he would have reenlisted in a heartbeat if he could have. It was after he barely escaped a murder charge, thanks to his uncle, and joined the army to get away. The stress of not remembering what had happened that day, of not knowing if he’d actually killed someone, was worse than the guilt itself. He’d been more terrified than grateful when his uncle pulled strings to get him out. It was all in the past now, but those days had certainly existed.

He’d closed the distance between himself and the man. The man’s faded black t-shirt, much like his boots, was damp with sweat.

“It’s hot,” Taeheun muttered.

“You’re hot, too, right?”

At Taeheun’s innocuous comment, the man’s exposed nape flushed red. He quickened his pace.

At the kitchen table in the parsonage, next to the church, the child was studying with a book open. The pastor’s wife sat beside them, observing.

The child’s face lit up when the man entered, but they quickly deflated at the pastor’s wife’s admonition to “focus,” returning their attention to their workbook. After struggling for another ten minutes, the child finished studying and excitedly bounced over to the man. Then, noticing Taeheun, their eyes widened.

“Pastor’s wife, food please!” the child shouted.

Taeheun found the man and child amusing. They reminded him of himself. Most people would be timid about accepting handouts, but these two, like him, didn’t seem to mind. They readily asked for more if the soup or side dishes ran low. While the man ate his meal slowly, the child devoured two bowls of rice and then munched on the fruit the pastor’s wife offered.

“Do you write, by any chance?” the kind-faced pastor’s wife asked Taeheun, offering him a bowl of sujeonggwa (cinnamon punch).

“There was a writer who stayed with Yongjun a while back, writing while he lived here. He wasn’t famous, but still…”

“Ah, I’ve been asked if I’m a writer several times and wondered why. So that’s the story.”

Taeheun replied affably, taking a sip of the sujeonggwa.

“I’m not a writer, just an office worker. I’m here for a short rest.”

“A vacation?”

“Yes. I’m a bit tired.”

The pastor’s wife nodded understandingly.

“My husband also struggled a lot when he was an associate pastor in Seoul. He had many more parishioners than here, but he never seemed happy. Then, he received God’s calling and established this pioneer church in Dongjaem-ri. Now he smiles every day. Even though he’s busy and works hard, he enjoys it so much. I truly admire him.”

She ended with praise for her husband.

“The pastor’s dedication is truly admirable. I aspire to be like him.”

Taeheun flattered the pastor, even though he didn’t mean it. The pastor’s wife beamed with pride. She continued praising her husband for a while longer before subtly shifting the topic back to Taeheun.

“You’re very handsome, by the way. And tall. There was a rumor recently about a celebrity visiting this town, and I wondered who it was. Now I see him right in front of me. Your parents must be so proud.”

She clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling like a young girl’s. Taeheun feigned shyness, though he felt nothing.

“Please visit the church whenever you have time. Our parishioners would love to meet you.”

“Yes, I will.”

Just as Taeheun was growing tired of the conversation, the child interrupted.

“Pastor’s wife, Father’s finished eating.”

It was a demand for more sujeonggwa or fruit. Utterly shameless, yet not at all annoying.

Taeheun watched the man drinking the sujeonggwa from the bowl the pastor’s wife had given him. Thirty-three wasn’t old, but it wasn’t young either. It wouldn’t be strange for him to have a child or two. Yet, there was something almost awkward about him, like an older brother caring for a younger sibling. Taeheun wondered how the man had managed to raise a child alone for eleven years.