ACJY C54

Carrying that feeling, he went to the kitchen and stood beside the man. While Taeheun peeled the packaging off the pink sausages and opened the can of Spam, the man whisked eggs for him. The child had emerged from his room and was sitting at the table. The man turned around.

“It suits you.”

The man was affectionate but didn’t know how to give a proper compliment.

“Come on, Mr. Gibeom, ‘it suits you’ is all you can say? Yoon Jihye, you look gor… no, you look absolutely beautiful!”

Taeheun gave a thumbs-up. The child giggled shyly, squirming.

The child sat at the table, resting his chin in his hands, and stared intently at Taeheun and the man. A pleased smile spread across his face. He seemed to be in as good a mood as Taeheun.

“I’ll fry the Spam first.”

“I’ll fry the Spam first.”

The child mimicked Taeheun.

Blushing, the man stepped aside for Taeheun.

“Should I fry it crispy?”

“Should I fry it crispy?”

“…Yes.”

At the man’s answer, the child urgently intervened.

“No! Don’t fry it crispy. I like it soft!”

“No! Don’t fry it crispy. I like it soft!”

Taeheun didn’t miss the chance to parrot the child.

“Hey, why are you copying me?”

“Hey, why are you copying me?”

Exasperated, the child jumped up from his seat. Stomping his feet, he went back to his room.

The man looked at Taeheun with a slightly disapproving expression.

“Jihye started it.”

Taeheun protested sulkily.

“Still, you’re the adult…”

“So adults can’t joke around or something?”

Taeheun, feeling a bit hurt that the man was siding with the child, fried the Spam a little roughly. He cooked half of it golden brown and the other half crispy. Meanwhile, the man added tofu and green onions to the kimchi jjigae and waited with a plate ready for the Spam. They worked well together.

Just standing in front of the stove for those few minutes made him sweat. He raised his arm and wiped his forehead with his short sleeve. Seeing this, the man handed him a towel. Taeheun shamelessly presented his face. The man hesitated for a moment, then wiped Taeheun’s forehead and face with the towel. Their eyes met, and Taeheun smiled. The man smiled back.

Dinner was peaceful. The child chattered about what he had been doing for the past two days. The man listened attentively to him. Taeheun took on the role of responding. After finishing his story, the child grilled Taeheun and the man about what they had been up to, except for the drinking part.

The man pretended to listen halfheartedly and gave vague answers. This time, Taeheun also remained quiet. Nothing much had happened, but at the same time, something significant had changed between them. He wanted to keep that secret to himself.

While the man did laundry and went outside to clean the yard, the child sat at a small table in the living room, finishing his homework.

The phone rang, and the child answered it. It was someone looking for the man. The man repeatedly said, “I can’t, I don’t have time,” but eventually gave in with an “Alright,” adding a note to the calendar. The man sighed and went back outside, and the child followed his father’s retreating figure with his eyes before returning his gaze to his workbook.

Taeheun sat next to the child with a magazine, glancing at his workbook. The child didn’t seem to have a talent for arithmetic. He covered his workbook with his hand whenever Taeheun looked at it.

“Don’t look.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

As soon as Taeheun turned away, the child went back to his homework. As their silent battle continued, the child sat up straight and called out to Taeheun.

“Mister.”

“What?”

“My dad will have his own rice paddy next year.”

As if just remembering, the child said proudly.

“Rice paddy?”

“Yes, a rice paddy. He said he won’t have to work at other people’s houses anymore.”

When he said “other people’s houses,” the child briefly glanced at the desk calendar.

“Did he buy it?”

“No, how could he buy one?”

The child looked at him as if he had said something absurd.

“He’s renting it. Most of the paddies in this village belong to the Chairman, and everyone rents them to farm. The grandfather who was farming the best land passed away last month.”

“Oh really? Was he sick?”

“No. He was drunk, driving his motorcycle home, and he fell into the ridge between the paddies. Broke his neck. Dropped dead.”

The child made a gesture of slashing his throat.

Taeheun now understood why the child had been so upset with him and the man earlier. He must have thought of that grandfather when he heard they had fallen off their bikes while drunk.

“It happened right before the rice planting, so my dad had a really hard time. Even now, he’s taking care of that grandfather’s paddy all by himself.”

Taeheun recalled the rice paddy where they had weeded together recently. Hadn’t the man been managing the irrigation alone yesterday? He had been so diligent, worrying about the drought as if it were his own paddy, so Taeheun had assumed he was just that kind of person. But it turned out that land would soon become the man’s.

“Originally, other grandfathers and uncles were making a fuss, saying they wanted that paddy, but the Chairman promised to give it to my dad.”

“For free?”

“Really, Mister.”

The child frowned seriously.

“Nothing in this world is free.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get mad.”

“Anyway, they signed the contract last month.”

The child emphasized the word “contract.”

“But why does it start next year? Mr. Gibeom is doing all the rice planting and taking care of it.”

The dogs dashed across the yard, seemingly playing amongst themselves. The child’s attention was momentarily diverted, and Taeheun asked again, “So why does it start next year?” He had brought up the topic, but now the child seemed annoyed by it.

“Really, Mister. Why do you ask so many questions?”

“I’m curious. It feels like being interrupted in the middle of pooping.”

The child giggled at the mention of poop.

“I don’t know the details, but Sojin unni said the grandfather’s sons were being difficult, saying something about the contract period. They absolutely refuse to farm, but they still want the money. How annoying. Because of them, the Chairman had to hire a lawyer and everything. It worked out in the end, though.”

The child turned his attention back to his workbook.

Taeheun lay down next to the child, staring up at the fluorescent light, lost in thought. That vast rice paddy would become the man’s. Even if he didn’t own it, at least he wouldn’t have to wander around working for daily wages anymore. He wouldn’t receive calls every evening asking him to help with their work, and he wouldn’t have to see the man sighing as he added schedules to his calendar after arguing that he couldn’t or didn’t have time.

Taeheun naturally began to imagine farming with the man. Together, they would turn over the dry soil and fertilize it. They would plant rice and have bibimbap for lunch like everyone else, and after the planting was done, they would celebrate with grilled pork belly and makgeolli, patting each other on the back for their hard work. When weeds grew, they would pull them together, and when it rained, they would check the irrigation ditches together in yellow raincoats, getting soaked. During the autumn harvest, they would walk through the golden rice paddy, pleased with the bountiful harvest. In winter, they would tend to the vegetable garden and huddle together in the warm main room, blowing on hot baked sweet potatoes and steamed buns.

He was so happy just imagining it that his eyes teared up. He knew how absurd his imagination was, yet he couldn’t stop. It felt so vivid and heartwarming, as if he had actually experienced it, that Taeheun couldn’t bring himself to dismiss it.

A daily life with the man and the child. The three of them together.

“Mister, are you crying? No, wait, you’re smiling.”

The child looked down at Taeheun intently.

“If you cry and then laugh, you’ll get hair on your butt.”

“I already have hair. Want to see?”

“Ew!”

The child pretended to vomit. Just then, the man entered. The child immediately tattled on Taeheun.

“Dad, Mister says he has butt hair.”

The man flinched. Unaware of the context, he looked back and forth between the child and Taeheun, bewildered.

“I’m kidding. Do I look like the kind of person who would have butt hair? You saw, didn’t you, Mr. Gibeom? That I don’t have any hair?”

The man turned around without answering. As if he had something else to do, he strode into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took out some barley tea.

The child giggled.

“He’s so cute. My dad is so innocent.”

“Yeah, very.”

Taeheun replied, recalling the scene from early that morning again. The man lying like a corpse and Yongjun between his legs, head bowed. The wet, sticky sounds echoed in his ears.

Fuck. He abruptly sat up. He was so jealous of Yongjun, who had possessed the man, that he couldn’t stand it. He unconsciously gritted his teeth and groaned softly. The child looked at him with puzzled eyes.

Would the child prefer Yongjun over me, too?

“Mister, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Taeheun bolted out. He didn’t answer the man, who asked where he was going.

He ran without direction. He was breathless, his heart pounding as if it would explode. But he didn’t stop. He ran and ran. As his distress turned into a strange exhilaration, Taeheun realized that the emotion he felt wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. The fear that the two people in his sweet fantasy might not be him and the man, but Yongjun and the man.

He stopped. Panting, he looked back. The man’s house was no longer visible. Only vast darkness remained.