ACJY C55

Taeheun was standing in the yard. The blazing sun was hot. Sweat trickled down his chin. He looked down at his palms and saw crushed flower petals. He brushed them off, and the stain of balsam flowers remained in the center of his hand.

‘Manager, why aren’t you coming inside?’

Deongchi called. Taeheun ignored him and just stared at his palm.

Pretty.

He thought.

He looked up to see a ridge between rice paddies. A man standing opposite him was smoking a cigarette, its tip burning red. His gaze, directed at the lush green paddy, was full of affection.

‘From next year, this will be my paddy.’

The man boasted. He exhaled a puff of smoke, and in that moment, the man was already far away.

‘Wait for me!’

Taeheun shouted, but the man grew farther away. His figure turned into a dot in an instant. Taeheun became anxious. He walked quickly along the ridge to catch up to the man, almost running. His feet gradually felt heavier. Looking down, he saw that it wasn’t a ridge but a mud pit. His feet, stuck in the mud, wouldn’t come out easily. He struggled to take one step after another, then lost his balance and tumbled down.

Mud splattered on his face. He spat, but it wasn’t mud, but blood. His hands were also covered in blood. He wiped them on his clothes. Something was swaying in front of him. He looked up and saw a middle-aged man and woman hanging, their tongues lolling out. It wasn’t difficult to recognize them as the landlord couple he had evicted from the two-story house.

‘It’s a good thing your daughter is ugly.’

Taeheun said thoughtlessly to the father.

The father struggled to move his head and looked down at Taeheun. Their eyes met.

‘Please, save us.’

The father pleaded.

‘If we leave here, we’ll be out on the streets. Please, let us keep this house. I beg you.’

‘You should have raised your children properly. Why are you blaming us?’

Taeheun retorted, rebuking the father.

He wanted to find the man who had walked away, but because of these damn legs, he couldn’t see properly. The mother wailed, and the father tried to soothe her.

‘You’re so noisy.’

He waved his hand as if chasing away flies.

He tried to look for the man, avoiding the couple’s legs. But he couldn’t see him. Taeheun was left alone in the vast rice paddy, unable to move because his legs were stuck in the mud. The people who had committed suicide swung their legs playfully, as if mocking him.

‘What did I tell you? I said I’d be back.’

The father chuckled.

Taeheun’s eyes flew open. He gasped for breath. Fuck. Fuck. He cursed.

The dream was evolving. A man who had nothing to do with the two-story house had appeared. This shouldn’t be happening. That dream, that nightmare, was Taeheun’s burden alone to bear. Even in a dream, he didn’t want to bring the man there. He shouldn’t. He felt uneasy and apprehensive.

He turned around at the unfamiliar feeling and realized he was in the bedroom. The man, shirtless, was sleeping soundly beside him.

Last night, after running like crazy, Taeheun had returned home and settled in the bedroom, saying he wanted to watch the 10 o’clock drama. The man had been worried about Taeheun, but as usual, didn’t ask why. He simply prepared another spot for Taeheun next to his bedding.

The man fell asleep quickly. Taeheun lowered the TV volume and fixed his gaze on the Wednesday-Thursday drama he wasn’t even interested in. He didn’t think he could sleep. Every cell in his body was awake from the late-night run. He kept his eyes glued to the TV until the drama ended and the late-night news began. He tried hard to prevent any stray thoughts.

Then, annoyed by how soundly the man was sleeping, he lay down next to him. He turned on his side and stared intently at the man’s profile. He listened to the man’s breathing, rising and falling at a steady pace, and watched his chest. The unknown anxiety gradually subsided. He synchronized his breathing with the man’s. That was his last memory. He fell asleep in an instant.

If he hadn’t dreamt, he would have woken up with the man in the early morning. As if warning him that he didn’t deserve such a small luxury, the nightmare came as usual.

Taeheun curled up in a ball, still facing the man. He didn’t like his sweat-drenched body, but he didn’t want to move. He waited for morning to come in that position.

At 4:30 a.m., the alarm went off. The man reached for the small alarm clock on his nightstand and his eyes met Taeheun’s. The man blushed.

“Did you sleep well?”

Taeheun asked in a sleepy voice.

“Yes. Did you, Mr. Taeheun?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

The man pointed at the area under Taeheun’s eyes.

“They’re dark.”

“Ah, I must have been having too many dirty thoughts.”

He made a silly joke.

The man chuckled.

“Can I lie down for a bit longer?”

“Sure. I’ll wake you when breakfast is ready.”

“Okay.”

Taeheun watched the man tidy up the bedding. He folded the blanket and mattress neatly and then, swaying his large body, placed them against the wall. He then put on a t-shirt and left the bedroom.

The sound of the man washing rice, the sound of putting rice in the electric rice cooker, the sound of crossing the living room and opening the sliding door, the creaking sound of the floorboards unable to bear his weight as he stepped down. It was a quiet and peaceful daily routine.

He, who had been so eager to die, now prayed to be allowed to enjoy this routine for a few more weeks. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to when the time came, he wanted to hold onto this moment, even for a little while.

Taeheun, only thirty-one, felt like he had become an eighty-year-old man.

As if they had promised, Taeheun and Gibeom ate breakfast together and went to work. Everyone who saw Gibeom commented on the wound on his face. At the same time, they glared at Taeheun. They all assumed that Taeheun had seduced the decent man and caused it.

Every time Gibeom waved his hand in denial, Taeheun would say, “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault,” taking the blame instead. Gibeom was grateful and at the same time, very sorry.

Taeheun had no intention of exploiting Gibeom’s vulnerability, and Gibeom believed that Taeheun wouldn’t do such a thing. He liked that trust.

Kwon Yongjun, the culprit behind this whole mess, was nowhere to be seen. It was so quiet that it was questionable whether anyone in the village even knew he was injured. He seemed to have taken Taeheun’s warning to heart, delivered through Gibeom. He has some sense, after all, Taeheun thought, welcoming his absence.

It was better for Kwon Yongjun to be gone, for his own sake as well. Taeheun had been convinced that he was a fairly cool guy, without any lingering resentment, but surprisingly, he wasn’t. He couldn’t guarantee what he would do if he saw Kwon Yongjun’s face right now.

Strangely, Sojin’s child was waiting for Gibeom at the village hall’s playroom instead of playing with his older sister, Sojin. He had a workbook open, but it was untouched by pencil marks, as if he had been doing something else the entire time.

“Dad, let’s grill meat tonight too! Uncle Gicheol said he was going to eat samgyeopsal.”

The child ran to Gibeom and said this as soon as he saw him.

Gibeom stroked the child’s head and said, “Okay.”

The moment he heard the word “samgyeopsal,” Taeheun remembered the meat he had bought a few days ago.

“Mr. Gibeom, I bought some samgyeopsal. It’s in the freezer!”

“Ah.”

Gibeom, who frequently checked the refrigerator, also remembered the samgyeopsal and made a surprised expression.

“If it weren’t for Jihye, I would have forgotten.”

The child was overjoyed that they didn’t have to go all the way to town to buy meat.

Taeheun drove the truck in place of Gibeom, who had slightly cut his hand while working. The child sat in the middle, staring intently at Taeheun.

“Why? Is my face so handsome that you can’t take your eyes off me?”

He expected the child to stick his tongue out or retort at the silly joke, but instead, the child asked in a dazed voice,

“Mister, you can drive a truck too?”

“Of course. I’m driving right now.”

“Wow.”

The child was fascinated by Taeheun driving the truck the whole time.

“Dad, Mister can drive a truck.”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Mister is driving a truck!”

“Uh-huh.”

Gibeom didn’t seem to grasp the point of what the child was saying. Taeheun didn’t understand either. Instead of asking what the child meant, he just drove along the country road.

As they entered a bumpy road, the child jumped up and down in his seat, screaming. Gibeom held onto the handle and extended his arm to protect the child from getting hurt.

Every time the child screamed, Taeheun screamed along. This made the child even more excited, raising his voice even louder. Gibeom laughed, pretending to cover his ears. Taeheun and the child looked at each other and competed to see who could scream louder. That’s how the three of them returned home. Home sweet home.