ACJY C40

Compared to the melon greenhouse, weeding required a lot more preparation. A wide-brimmed hat, a towel, a change of clothes, a long-sleeved shirt, and even a two-liter bottle of frozen water, which he’d apparently stashed in the freezer at some point. He divided everything into several bags. He also packed two cucumbers each to munch on while working. He thought about asking for chocolate or a candy bar, but stopped himself. In this heat, a candy bar would melt into a sticky mess.

The man asked Taeheun several times if he was really sure about going to work. He was worried Taeheun would get sick again. Taeheun could have easily backed out, saying he’d rest today since the man was worried. It wasn’t as if the man would call him weak or a freeloader. But he wanted to go. He enjoyed the physical labor alongside the man. The exhaustion kept distracting thoughts at bay, and without those thoughts, life was bearable.

After dropping the child off at the village community center, the man headed to Kwon Yongjun’s house. Past the community center, a little further in, was a two-story house that clearly had a lot of money put into it. A single, artfully pruned pine tree stood in the spacious garden. Aside from the pine, there were no other plants, suggesting a lack of interest in gardening.

The man drove past a Grandeur, a Damas van, and a large BMW sedan parked side-by-side outside the gate, and parked his truck.

“Wait here a moment.”

Instead of going through the main gate, the man walked around the side of the wall and disappeared. A moment later, Taeheun heard the sound of a metal gate opening and closing, and then the man was back at the truck.

“It’s the key to Yongjun’s shed.”

“You’re not going inside the house?”

“No. There’s no need.”

The man started driving again.

About ten minutes further from Kwon Yongjun’s house, three large sheds appeared in a row. The man parked at one of them. It was where the Kwon Il-taek family stored their tractor, farming equipment, and the brush cutter. They were clearly wealthy. The equipment was all state-of-the-art, and some of it was still in its plastic wrapping.

“The chairman loves machinery. He buys anything new that comes out, so he loses a lot of money. But he still goes to every new product demonstration.”

The man referred to Kwon Yongjun’s father, Kwon Il-taek, as “Chairman,” and there was affection in his voice.

“He bought us an expensive, good quality brush cutter, which makes the work much easier.”

Taeheun recognized the Japanese-made brush cutter. He recalled a landowner bragging about how Japanese models were still the best, even though Korean ones weren’t bad.

They each strapped a brush cutter to their backs. The man carried the gasoline canister, and Taeheun took the oil. Loaded down, they walked from the shed back to the truck. The heat was intense.

“It’s going to be brutal today,” Taeheun said.

“You’re right. If it gets too hot, you have to take breaks. Otherwise, you’ll get heatstroke.”

“You’re one to talk,” Taeheun retorted.

The man, who had suffered from heatstroke just yesterday, chuckled sheepishly.

After loading everything into the truck bed, they set off again.

His cell phone had a signal. While the man drove, Taeheun sent a quick text to his contact. The man glanced at him but said nothing.

Kwon Il-taek owned two-thirds of the farmland in Dongjam-ri. As they drove, the man pointed them out, one by one. Taeheun wasn’t particularly interested, but he listened. He wanted to play along, seeing how enthusiastic the man was, even though it wasn’t his own land.

“From there to there is being farmed by the head of the women’s association, and the land above that has been farmed by Mr. Cho, who lives in the front village, for three generations. And can you see over there? Where the utility pole is? That’s farmed by Elder Hwang from Keungol. His youngest son, who used to help him, moved to the city, so he’s having a really hard time.”

The land stretched endlessly, and the man rattled off names of local people Taeheun had never heard of. Including ten families who rented large plots for rice farming, over thirty families farmed Kwon Il-taek’s land.

“What do those people do while you do the weeding?”

“The land I work on is different.”

The man smiled slightly as he said this.

Finally, the truck stopped. The area was vast, seemingly impossible for one person to manage. It looked like it needed at least three strong men. The person who assigned this work to one man and the person who agreed to do it seemed equally absurd.

“How big is this?”

“About 8,000 pyeong (approximately 6.4 acres). It’s not that much,” the man said casually.

Speechless, Taeheun watched as the man meticulously prepared for the work. He secured his wide-brimmed hat, put on arm sleeves over his long-sleeved shirt, and wrapped a towel around his neck. He handed Taeheun a wide-brimmed hat as well, and in his characteristically gentle tone, said, “Take it easy.”

“Are you really weeding all of this by yourself, Mr. Gibeom?”

“It’s not as big as it looks. And once you get going, it goes by quickly.”

“This isn’t big?”

“It goes by quickly once you get started.”

The man mumbled, strapping on his brush cutter.

“What about the pay? Do they pay you well?”

“Of course.”

The man was now holding both the gasoline and oil canisters.

“Give me the gasoline. Why are you carrying all the heavy stuff?”

“It’s not that heavy.”

At Taeheun’s insistence, the man reluctantly handed him the lighter oil canister.

At the edge of the rice paddy, the man filled both brush cutters with the right mix of gasoline and oil, then strapped his own back on.

“I’ll start from over there, so you start from here. Watch out for flying rocks, and call me if the blade breaks.”

Wearing faded red rubber boots, the man walked off confidently, carrying the canisters in both hands.

He walked so far that he became a small dot in the distance. Well, maybe not a dot, but very, very far. Still, it was only about halfway across the field.

“Fucking unbelievable,” Taeheun muttered, kicking a loose stone.

He could hear the distant whirring of the brush cutter. Complaining wouldn’t lessen the work. He’d come here to work, so he might as well get to it. He resigned himself to the task.

He tucked his cargo pants into his socks, which he’d bought at the market. He might have looked like a pitcher on the mound, but in reality, it was incredibly dorky. Still, it was comfortable, as his pants wouldn’t get in the way.

The motor of the brush cutter roared to life. It was certainly powerful. Weeds disappeared quickly under the blade. He walked forward, steadily focusing on the weeds. Avoiding flying rocks, being careful not to break the blade, he lost himself in the rhythm of the work. He even felt a thrill each time the weeds yielded to the blade.

Occasionally, he looked up to check on the man. He had indeed become a tiny figure in the distance. Though he could see where the man had passed by the flattened weeds, a testament to his presence and passage, Taeheun felt that even if he shouted, the man wouldn’t hear him.

A sudden unease gripped him. Taeheun quickly turned off his brush cutter and started walking towards the man. But he couldn’t seem to get any closer.

A mirage.

Perhaps the man was a mirage, Taeheun thought.

By the time he finally reached the man, the sun was high in the sky. The heat was scorching, and sweat poured down like rain. Both he and the man were soaked, like drowned rats.

“Let’s shower at the community center first, and then go for lunch,” the man said.

“Yeah. I don’t know if I’ll have much of an appetite,” Taeheun grumbled. He wasn’t hungry at all, perhaps because he’d already eaten the two cucumbers and drunk all the ice water the man had packed, and also because of the heat.

The man didn’t reply, just strode towards where the truck was parked. The way the man’s short hair was flattened by his hat looked funny. Though, come to think of it, with his slightly longer hair, he probably looked even funnier. Without a word, they both used their towels to dry their hair and climbed into the truck. The man drove with the windows down until the air conditioning kicked in.

“Do you want kongguksu (cold soybean noodle soup)?” the man asked.

“Whatever you want.”

“It’s delicious.”

“Okay.”

He was too exhausted to even reply.

Taeheun had pushed himself too hard trying to catch up with the man, and now he was paying the price. They’d been closer than he’d realized, so why had he felt so anxious? It didn’t make any sense.

The emotions he felt towards the man, the fear that he might disappear, felt alien. It felt awkward and uncomfortable, as if someone had forcibly implanted them in his mind. Yet the fear was real.

He looked at the man. As always, he seemed solid and serene, as if he’d never experienced a single emotional fluctuation. Taeheun felt a pang of envy, then a surge of inexplicable irritation. Fuck, he cursed inwardly.

As soon as they entered the shower room, the man unhesitatingly stripped off his clothes in front of Taeheun. First his red rubber boots, then his socks, followed by his shirt, pants, and even his underwear. Naked, he limped towards the shower.

Unlike his tanned face and upper body, his buttocks and upper thighs were strikingly pale. From mid-thigh down to his slender calves, his skin was a shade lighter than his upper body, but darker than his buttocks. The man’s mismatched skin tones, which could have looked comical, were strangely attractive. Taeheun’s own pale skin suddenly seemed bland in comparison.

Taeheun undressed as well. Naked, he stood next to the man, who was washing his hair. Taking advantage of the moment, Taeheun glanced at the man’s groin. Like any man, he was naturally curious about the other’s size. The man’s dark pubic hair, even wet, wasn’t very long and looked neatly trimmed. His penis was respectably sized. Taeheun figured it would be quite impressive when erect, though probably not as big as his own.

He chuckled softly. He’d been staring for far too long, like some kind of pervert.