FOOL Ch 2

I grew up without a shortage of anything. Like many children from affluent families, I had an unrestrained personality, but I was still surrounded by friends nonetheless. Maybe it was because I was tall, but I was popular among the girls as well. Being quite smart, I did well in my studies even without having to attend cram schools. I was the type of boy who, though not the leader, belonged to the intersection of a group that ostracized the poor and the insecure, always remaining on the sidelines.

Then, one day, my family turned into beings that ceased to exist in this world, all at once. How could that be? Why did Mom, Dad¹, and Jaehee disappear like that? For months, I pondered that question. The fact that I would never see them again was a reality I couldn’t accept. It was then that my first spasm struck, and the depression that washed over me left my lungs wet and, in turn, made me breathe wet as well.

Clothing stores were one of the places I dreaded the most. I couldn’t even choose to go at a time when it’d be void of people, like I could with marts, because there would always be an employee directly trailing me or, in other cases, staring straight into my soul. I couldn’t bring myself to embark on an adventure such as going to the store for the sake of a stranger who made me feel pity, responsibility, or whatever other emotion it was that I had no desire to know about. After much hesitation over whether I should give him my own clothes, I ordered a few roughly fitting clothes online and went to the hospital. The man, standing by the window and peering outside, suddenly felt a presence and looked back.

I felt that his soul, regardless of his state of his mind, was purer than anyone else’s. How else could he smile like that? My gaze fell upon his bare feet, devoid of the three-striped slippers he had taken off, as he approached me slowly, but quick for his current state. It had been so long since someone greeted me in such a way, so it felt alien to me.

“Doctor²!”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“You know a lot, so that means you’re smart. You even taught me about pneumonia last time. That must make you a doctor.”

The question that I had felt no need to ask, nor had I ever felt the desire to ask in the first place, burst out of my mouth like a sneeze.

“How long were you in school for?”

“I’ve never been to school.”

What kind of life is that? What year is it now? How old was he? The thing about the identification card seemed to be a lie as well. He probably stopped attending school due to some circumstances, like I had. Maybe it wasn’t all that important to him, so he simply decided to say he never went instead. I just assumed it was the same old case of a runaway boy who never returned home, growing into a young man while living under such circumstances.

He kept poking at something inside me, rousing my lethargic self into action. The urge to delve deeper, to bombard him with more questions—about his age, his real name, where he lived—stirred within me.

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-four years old.”

“How come you know your exact age when you claim to have never had an identification card?”

“I lived with my mom until I was nine. After that, I started counting my age with every new year. I know my birthday, too.”

He seemed happy to know his own birthday. All of a sudden, whoosh. It came all at once. I felt sad. It was because I heard the word mom. I was weak when it came to moms. This foreign matter, like a drop of Indian ink staining my everyday life, said that he knew his birthday, yet that was all it took for me to suck in his sadness like hanji³ sucking in water. It was heavy. The kind of heaviness that the light me had been working so hard to avoid.

I was about to question why he didn’t have a name and why he never attended school, considering he lived with his mother, before stopping myself.

Instead, I lifted an envelope containing twenty bills of fifty thousand won, which I had withdrawn from the ATM.

“Doctor, did you know? Today—oh, what’s this?”

I pushed the money envelope onto his chest as he widened his eyes, staring at me with those clear pupils of his. I had to run away from the questions I had uselessly asked and the answers that had been given in return.

“It’s money. Take it.”

“But I already owe money for the hospital bill. Why is…”

“You can just consider this part of the debt. Just so you know, you don’t need to pay it back. Now, there’s really nothing left for me to do here. The nurse will bring you the clothes in a few days.”

I hurriedly left the hospital room. The weight made me drag my feet, feeling suffocated. I was scared that, if I didn’t get out of there fast enough, I would continue to absorb his sadness.

I heard the sound of wheels scraping against the floor at high speed. My steps quickened, almost to a run, to put some distance between myself and his chasing figure. The sound kept following me. What if he pulls the needle from his hand again? There was a limit to how stupid one could be. Feeling annoyed, I spun around and raised my voice.

“A patient shouldn’t be walking this quickly!”

A middle-aged patient with a scowl on their face and a hand on their lower abdomen glanced at me before continuing to speed walk towards the washroom. Behind them, I caught a glimpse of the man, walking towards me with slow steps, mouth open as if struggling to breathe. Though I had no intention of hitting him or anything of the sort, my fist clenched in on itself. As if I were preparing to battle an impending disaster.

“Why did you follow me out?”

“This… is too much.”

“Just take it, will you? This isn’t the time to be acting prideful.”

I purposefully adopted a harsh tone. I didn’t even use formal speech⁴, as if to tell him to listen to his elders. If he got angry, I could simply trample on his pride some more, and if he begrudgingly scratched the back of his head, I could just tell him to live a good life and turn on my heel, and then everything would be over with.

His fingers were long and thin.

Even his hands appeared emaciated, stirring me to feel a growing heat rush up from inside me. I glared at him as he extended the envelope with both hands. Maybe it was due to his fever, but both his forehead and eyes were tinged red. This man, with his upper body slouched forward, holding on as if it were too difficult for him to stand—I have to crush his pride, I thought. The tips of my nails dug into my palm.

“I took out two hundred thousand won.”

The opportunity to deal the first strike was stolen away from me by the unexpected declaration. 

“What…?”

“I know I shouldn’t be accepting this, but I’m really not lying, I don’t even have ten won. I don’t have anywhere to go, either—”

“What do those hyungs of yours do for a living?”

“They only call me and give me a place to stay when there’s work to be done.”

“What kind of work?”

“Mainly just building ochre houses or helping the carpenters with their work… various odd jobs.”

“You should be able to find some day work on your own. Didn’t you say you were quick on the uptake and good at work? You’ve got a pretty big frame, too, so won’t you be able to earn money if you just put yourself hard at work at a logistics center or something?”

“…I don’t know why, but I pass out pretty often. That’s the reason I’m unable to do taxing work on a regular basis, and places like construction sites don’t like me because they think that people who faint often are dangerous. They only tolerate it because they’re my hyungs.”

It was a weight I didn’t want to know any more about. My heartbeat quickened. A vein stood on my neck, and I felt my temples pulsating.

“That’s why I’m telling you to take it. Are you a fool?”

“Fool. I hear that a lot.”

“If you don’t want to be called a fool, then you shouldn’t say things like that with a smile!”

I suddenly blurted out my inner thoughts. I tightly shut my eyes. My brows furrowed. I felt the headache, originating from my temples, grow worse and worse. Slowly, I raised my gaze and fixed him with a sharp look.

“Stop trying to salvage your stupid pride and just take it.”

“It’s not because of my pride, it’s just weird.”

“What is?”

“The fact that someone is giving me such a large sum of money without any conditions attached.”

“Just take a look at yourself. In the future, you’ll keep meeting guys like me, and then you’ll realize that a million won is nothing. If you ever get the chance to be on the receiving end of someone who pities you again, then you have to jump at the opportunity to take it. Capiche?”

He blinked his large, double-lidded eyes. I wanted to strike that pretty face of his. If he was that poor, he should just lead a shameless life while only thinking of himself. It irritated me to the point of making me want to cut and piece and even map out his entire life according to my whims so that he would think that way.

“…Please take back the envelope minus the two hundred thousand won.”

I noticed a crumpled fifty thousand won note shoved into the pocket of his patient’s uniform. My stomach churned. I felt like something was going to happen to me if I didn’t get out of there ASAP. My temples throbbed, like it’d been stabbed by a needle, and cold sweat trickled down my forehead. I felt so nauseous that I might even puke. He grabbed my sleeve as I tried to turn around. A tussle was going to happen if I didn’t take the envelope. I snatched it from him and yanked away the arm he had grabbed.

“Happy now?”

“Yes.”

I heard a voice say, ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ from behind my peppery steps. Crouching down in front of the planted trees at the entrance of the hospital, I puked out everything I had eaten that morning.

A few days later, the clothes I ordered finally arrived. I didn’t go to see him, only delivering the clothes. Some time later, I heard that, even after being discharged, he came to the hospital every day for a whole week to clean around and fix many of the appliances, despite being told not to.

Just like that, the bothersome being disappeared.

Once more, my everyday life was soaked in the depression nestled between tranquility, indolence, and lethargy, like layers of oil. The rainy season came to a close, and I, who never ventured outside except for walks or trips to the mart, stepped outside for the very first time.

There was a black bag placed in front of my gate. I went back inside and put on a pair of plastic gloves. Slightly lifting the bag with nothing more than my index and thumb, I peered inside to see banana milk past its expiration date, a few snacks, and a few ten thousand won notes. Handwriting, written in smudged ink, could be seen on top of the post-it note covering the bundle of cash, which was wrapped with a thin rubber band.

[Thank you, Doctor]

* * *

Autumn had come. Just the very thought of the approaching winter, the season that was hardest for me to bear, sharpened my nerves like the tip of a knife. Why are Korean winters so dry? Winter, with its promise of my parents and Jaehee’s death anniversary, drove me to the brink of madness. Though it was still autumn, as always, I dreaded the winter in advance. If it weren’t for the house, I would’ve wanted to live abroad. Might as well go to a place where it rains most of the year.

I was tending to the garden when my back suddenly started hurting. Giving it a few light smacks, I glanced upwards. The sky was a clear blue. All of a sudden, I felt suffocated, like I was going to die because there wasn’t enough air in my lungs. I would’ve felt a little more inclined to live had it been raining, had the sky been crying in my stead. I hadn’t cried a single time since my family died. I couldn’t cry. I hated how numb the medication made me feel. Even though I tried switching between several types, it was all the same. I took my medicine, stopped, resumed, and then, one day, completely refused to take them altogether. Thus, I had no means to diffuse my temper, which would flare up every so often.

For the first time in a long time, I lost my mind. I tore at my hair and screamed before opening the front gate and running out barefoot. I stepped on something mushy. It was another black bag. Examining the sole of my foot, I noticed something shiny, like scarlet jam, smeared across it. I grabbed the end of the bag, exhaling ragged breaths, and looked inside.

[Thank you, Doctor]

There was a note with smudged handwriting and a ripe persimmon inside it.

It was the fruit that my mom liked most. Her snack, which my little sister and I had teased her for, saying she had the taste of a granny. When I asked her why she liked persimmons the most when there were so many other delicious fruits out there, she always replied with:

‘I just like them because they’re sweet. Grandma liked them when she was still alive.’

Every time my mom told me to try one with a smile on her face, I turned my head away. I never got a proper taste of it. And now that my mom was dead, I wouldn’t be eating any in the future either. Who would have thought such a minor detail would become a regret? This cursed life. I crumpled to the ground. Then, I began eating the trampled persimmon like a madman, right then and there.

It was sweet.

“M-mom… It’s sweet. Sob…”

Finally, I cried.

Autumn passed, and winter set in. Once more, I had to survive the season. Onerous breaths and the light depression of a heavy life.