ACJY C27

As he stepped into the yard, the dogs, even upon seeing Taeheun, remained calm. They didn’t wag their tails in greeting, but at least they recognized him as someone who belonged there. The mutts were quite smart.

The man, who had packed the child’s lunch and prepared breakfast at dawn, had also somehow found time to do laundry. The clothes Taeheun had taken off yesterday were already placed in front of his door. 

Sniff, sniff.

He smelled them. It was probably the same factory-made detergent, but the laundry done by the man had a pleasant scent. How strange, he thought, tossing the clothes casually into the room and getting ready to go out.

Just as he was about to leave, having received the key, he locked the door, something the man didn’t bother with. After fiddling with the sliding door, it clicked shut. He’d barely exerted himself, but there were beads of sweat on his forehead.

A single pair of jeans hung on the clothesline in the yard. They must have been left there because they weren’t completely dry. Just in case, he reached out and touched them; they were dry enough to be taken down. He could have left them, but they bothered him. After pacing back and forth a few times, he finally took the jeans down, folded them neatly, and placed them on the porch.

It was only 6:30 AM, even after he’d woken up, washed, eaten breakfast, seen the man and child off, and dawdled in his room. The day was bright, and Taeheun, unaware of how early it was, recalled the proverb about the early bird getting the worm as he strolled uphill.

The alley, once overgrown with weeds, was now clear. The gentle slope, as always, abruptly steepened and turned at a 90-degree angle. He took a large stride, and a path appeared where there had once been only undergrowth. The cut weeds lay to the left side of the alley.

The rusty, half-collapsed gate had been replaced with a new one, a dark, inconspicuous iron gate. A small flowerpot, somewhat incongruous, sat in front of it. A housewarming gift of sorts? Taeheun picked up the pot with one hand and grabbed the key underneath.

He whistled as soon as he opened the gate and stepped inside. The house was so old that no amount of weeding or repairs could completely hide its age, but at least the impression of it being abandoned was gone. The newly applied white paper on the lattice doors was particularly noticeable.

Similar-colored wooden planks had been added to the worn porch. The house, roughly put together with wood here and there, was, as the CEO had said, livable.

He pulled the latch on the door, but it wouldn’t open. Was it just for decoration? Taeheun pulled harder, then stopped, worried he might break the door. He headed towards the kitchen. It too was spotless. He saw a furnace and iron pot he doubted he’d ever use. He opened the door at the back of the kitchen, and a mountain loomed before him. Just two steps forward, and he would be at the edge of a cliff. A little warning would have been nice. He calmed his startled heart and carefully turned back.

There was a back door leading to the room, another lattice door, this one without a latch. He pushed it, and it opened smoothly.

The room, which had been overgrown with weeds, was now clean and tidy. The new wallpaper and flooring completely transformed the atmosphere. Bedding was laid out on top of the wardrobe, making the room ready for immediate occupancy. Except for that black plastic sheet.

The lattice door on the opposite side was meticulously covered with black plastic to block out any light. Wooden planks were nailed across it in an X shape to prevent it from being opened. With an indifferent expression, he nudged the small generator placed just below the door with his foot.

He opened the old wardrobe, unsure if it was original or brought in, and found copied ledgers and documents organized by year. On a low table sat a desk lamp, a beige landline phone, a fax machine, a stack of legal pads, and a laptop, all lined up. The laptop was the same model as his, and thoughtfully, it even had the GoStop game installed. A basket next to the desk was filled with floppy disks. It was a perfect workspace. Except for the lack of tea and coffee.

I’ll buy what I need in town when I’m done working, he thought, taking a deep breath of the fresh air coming through the open back door. Looking at the dazzlingly green forest, he felt as if he were in a secluded hermitage. He wryly thought that betraying his company had certainly improved his working conditions.

The work took longer than expected. Still, he had plenty of time before the man returned. Taeheun drove to town, bought supplies for the house, and headed to the supermarket. He saw a stationery store on the way and suddenly remembered the man’s worn diary. As if in a trance, he went inside and picked up a decent-looking leather diary. Feeling self-conscious about buying only for the man, he also bought a notebook and school supplies for the child.

Did I take too much time?

It was already 7 PM when he reached the entrance of Dongjamri with the chicken, beer, and canned whelks.

The car rattled along the country road. The closer he got to the man’s house, the wider his smile grew.

He imagined he would do most of the talking, and the man would blush and answer his questions. Even though they hadn’t spent enough time together to know each other well, he felt a sense of anticipation. Even the rough, narrow country road felt cozy.

Light spilled from the man’s house, which had been dark when Taeheun left. The truck wasn’t there. Then what was the source of the light? Frowning, he parked right in front of the wall. On high alert, he grabbed his bags and pushed open the gate.

Crunch, crunch. He heard the dogs eating.

“You’re here?”

The man, who had been crouching in front of the dogs, stood up abruptly when he saw Taeheun.

Whew. Taeheun breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re early.”

“Yes. Work finished early.”

“Mr. Gibeom, you must be blessed with good fortune.”

He approached the man with a beaming smile. He smelled of makgeolli (Korean rice wine).

“You had some makgeolli, too.”

The words came out sharper than he intended. He was surprised at his own tone.

“…Yes, a little.”

The man scratched his head.

“Give those to me.”

The man took the pack of beer from Taeheun’s hands. Wearing slippers, he lumbered onto the porch. As soon as he stepped inside, Taeheun felt a wave of heat emanating from the kitchen.

“I was boiling some thin noodles, and you arrived just in time.”

Perhaps because of the alcohol, the man’s voice was higher than usual. He even seemed cheerful. Taeheun felt a prickle of annoyance, not just because the man had been drinking without him, but because he seemed to be in a good mood. He should have found it absurd to feel this way, considering they were neither friends nor anything else, but Taeheun wasn’t rational enough to analyze his feelings at the moment.

“Um, Mr. Taeheun.”

The man said his name, naturally and without hesitation. The annoyance he’d felt melted away at the sound of his name.

“Would you like to eat on the porch or in the kitchen?”

“Let’s eat on the porch.”

He smiled at the man.

Taeheun stuffed one pack of beer into the freezer and put the other in the refrigerator.

“Oh, here. I bought some school supplies for Jihye. And a diary for you, Mr. Gibeom.”

Suddenly feeling shy, he placed the paper bag on the table. The man, who had turned his back and was opening a can of whelks, turned around and said, “Thank you.” He was smiling brightly. His already handsome face looked even more appealing.

“Jihye will be home soon, right?”

He asked, a little disappointed that their alone time would be cut short. He enjoyed the child’s company, but the man was usually quiet when she was around.

The man answered with his back still turned.

“She’s sleeping over at Sojin’s house.”

“Sojin?”

“Yes. Park Sojin. There’s an older girl in middle school. She’s one of the girls who had pizza and watched a movie with Jihye today. Jihye really likes her. She’s a very nice kid, too.”

“Really? Sleeping over at someone else’s house. Jihye’s all grown up.”

Taeheun said, his voice noticeably brighter.

“She used to sleep over maybe once a month, but since she started fourth grade, she goes over there quite often. I feel bad for Sojin.”

The man rambled on, saying things Taeheun hadn’t asked about. He glanced back and made eye contact with Taeheun.

“What about you, Mr. Gibeom? Do you go anywhere fun when Jihye’s not around? You can’t just stay home all the time, can you?”

He casually threw out the question. He didn’t have any ulterior motive. He was genuinely curious. He wondered what the man did in his free time, how he took care of his…needs.

A sudden silence fell. The man, having correctly interpreted the implication of the question, closed his mouth. The air between them grew heavy. Without answering, he placed the whelks on a cutting board and began to chop them into bite-sized pieces.

“Could you get the cucumber and green onions from the refrigerator?”

The man said, his face resuming its usual impassiveness.

Damn it. The mood was so good.

Taeheun scratched his eyebrows, wondering what he had done wrong.

He held out the cucumber and green onions, but the man didn’t even look at him, just reached out and took them. He then washed and quickly sliced them at the sink.

“Anything I can help with?”

“No.”

The man’s smile had vanished, and his voice was back to its usual low, quiet tone.

The awkward atmosphere persisted. Standing there like a statue wouldn’t change anything.

“I’ll go wash up.”

He told the man’s back and went to his room to get his underwear.

The water was so cold it made him curse. It did, however, effectively wash away the sticky sweat he’d worked up that morning.

“Why is he acting like this? What did I do wrong?”

It wasn’t a crime to ask if he went anywhere fun, was it? He hadn’t thought the man was like this, but now he seemed incredibly petty. He grumbled to himself.

He reached for a towel to dry himself. Next to the faded green towel the man usually used hung Taeheun’s own towel, which looked excessively white. Feeling petulant, he grabbed the green towel and roughly dried himself, deliberately scrubbing his genitals with extra vigor.