INM 4 Part 3

“I came here today to make you happy. So if you’re not ready, it’s okay to look at the design plans later.”

After all, we’re still in the planning stages. The main purpose of today was for me to see the room with my own eyes, and we have time in the schedule. Rather than forcing her to choose from these options, it seemed more appropriate at this stage to learn a bit more about her preferences, what she values, and perhaps even some of her habits that she isn’t even aware of.

To ease Maria’s tension, I put the design plans aside and opened my arms slightly.

“Is there anything I can do to get you excited? Maybe think about things you’ve liked before, or maybe try moving the current furniture around a bit.” 

“No, that would be rude to you…”

Maria smiled awkwardly, then her expression suddenly vanished. It was as if all the fragments of emotion in her face were sucked into the black holes of her eyes.

Goose bumps formed on my arms. As I stood there, frozen with a smile, Maria’s eyes darted around restlessly, and her bony white hand began to tremble.

“Maria…?”

“No, it’s not that… I didn’t call you here for that…”

Her confused voice made me realize that I had put my hand over hers. What was I doing? Surprised by my own actions, I found myself saying something that surprised me even more.

“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know…”

Being around those pure and hurting students might have made me lose some of my boundaries. Here I was, extending my hand without thinking, not considering if it was something beyond my ability to help.

As I held my breath, waiting for Maria’s next words, she opened her mouth with great difficulty.

“Could you take a look at my son’s room?”

As soon as she said it, she shrank back again. On the other hand, I felt relieved and got my energy back, thinking that it wasn’t such a big deal after all.

“I don’t mind, but is it okay for your son to have a stranger see his room?”

“It’s fine. He’s already moved out and I’m supposed to clean up his room.”

I wondered if her son had asked her to clean the room. If that’s the case, it should be okay. After all, the last person in the world a son wants to see his room is probably his mother.

“I get it. I can give you some simple advice to help you get organized before you start.”

With that, I stood up and Maria followed with her head bowed.

As we retraced our steps down the hallway, Maria stopped in front of the door just to the right of the entrance. She placed her hand on the doorknob and looked up at me, her black eyes filled with an undeniable inner conflict.

“Come in… There’s hardly anything in the room, but if you think of anything, please let me know.”

“Okay.”

I replied nonchalantly and entered the room as she instructed. I had prepared myself for what kind of room it might be, but the approximately 150 square foot space was surprisingly sparse. A rug was laid haphazardly on the tiled floor, and a single light bulb hung from the white ceiling. The only furniture seemed to be a desk, a bed, and a bookshelf. Judging by their size, the desk and bed had probably been in use since he was about five or six years old. The quality was good, and they seemed to be adjustable for his age, but the stationery on the desk suggested an age that didn’t match the furniture. The bookcase… Well, to put it bluntly, it was a cheap piece of junk. Probably a $25 piece. If it were me, I’d definitely choose a different shelf for the same price.

Perhaps he was a young man who was not interested in interior design, a minimalist, and had already removed everything he needed from this room.

I was about to ask Maria if this room would be used for another purpose or kept for its owner when I noticed that my body had become strangely stiff. A slow feeling of unease crept up from my feet. “People see things even with their skin.” a teacher at the vocational school once said. Even with eyes closed or blindfolded, the human heart is affected by the colors of a room.

I felt like I was finally beginning to understand the teacher’s words. Even though my consciousness was only confused, my skin had already noticed something and was buzzing. The image of a child holding a broom flickered in my mind and I quickly pushed it out of my mind. When my heart, which had begun to beat like a drum, calmed down, I took a deep breath and looked around the room carefully.

There was a modest window on the wall directly opposite the entrance. Right next to it was a gray block wall with no curtain. While a curtain might not be necessary to block light or prying eyes, having that gray wall constantly in view didn’t seem to be good for one’s mental health.

I turned my eyes back to the thin plywood bookcase. It had plenty of capacity, as if its thickness had been stretched in both directions. Perhaps the shelf was chosen for its capacity rather than its quality. Does he like books? Then why are the shelves so bare? There were a few old textbooks and notebooks and a heavy looking technical book.

A strange chill grew. There was almost no trace of the owner’s personality in this room. Yet I began to feel a strong sense of nostalgia in this empty room, as if everything that could be called joy had been given up.

I looked at the desk. It had a rounded shape, designed with children’s safety in mind. Even the edges of the tabletop were neatly rounded. There was a brown, cloudy stain on the smooth curve, and my whole body shivered. A few seconds later, I realized it was a blood stain.

“…If you were to see a happy smile in this room, when do you think it would be?” 

Maria asked softly behind me. 

“Was that child happy or…? Luke, I thought you might understand the meaning of that child’s smile.”

At that moment I heard the formal voice of Inspector Samuel Robinson from our first meeting. 

I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Potter. I need to ask you about your friend. 

Yes, that was the first time I ever heard his full name. 

Alan Maxwell. Do you know him? 

The policeman’s voice was overlaid with the image of a white sheet of paper. It wasn’t as binding as a contract, but it was an electronic file with a consent signature for service and contact information. In the name field, it was actually written in elegant cursive, “Maria Maxwell”.

The boy with the broom, whom I thought I had banished from my mind, reappeared before me. Just as I was about to meet his gaze, I was violently thrown to the carpet on the floor.

In the corner of my consciousness, just before I blacked out, I thought… By the way, when was this carpet last washed?

In the dim, dusty air, a boy of about five years old diligently moved a broom far too large for his small frame. His actions were pointless. Without fully understanding its function of collecting garbage, he mimicked movements he had seen, sweeping the broom back and forth.

Even when he nearly tripped over a pile of T-shirts, his expression remained unchanged, a dark, unhappy child. Although he was wearing freshly laundered clothes as instructed, his hair was a mess and part of his fringe had been abruptly cut straight across.

“Even if you do that, nothing will change. It’s not a magic broom.”

My voice, which had escaped unintentionally, fell and clung strangely to my ears. The child, oblivious to my words, continued to sweep the broom with all his might.

Soon the child’s figure faded and was replaced by a young man holding his head.

This is too cruel. Why, why?

I never wanted anything more from that person, but they came on their own and trampled me.

I said something to the lamenting young man. He looked up at my words. His expression was puzzled, astonished… lately I had the feeling I’d seen someone with the same expression.

Is that so? That person seems to act more freely than anyone else I know…

I said again. The young man, who was listening with a skeptical look, finally lowered his eyes, thought for a moment, and then looked up at me again.

Hey, Luke. In my life, the most…

The young man’s voice was unnaturally hushed. He smiled softly at me as I strained to hear.

I can’t look away…

…believe…

Desperately trying to hear the young man’s increasingly distant voice, I stared into his eyes. His unwavering black eyes were filled with a kind of determination. I couldn’t help but call out to him.

“Alan!”

Thank you, Luke. It’s a promise…

As if guided by the lingering echo in my ears, I slowly opened my eyes. I had woken up. I wanted to stay in the dream a little longer.

Such carefree lingering thoughts gradually disappeared as I began to understand my situation. I felt vibrations and pressure pushing me backwards. I was being transported somewhere at a considerable speed.

“Why, why, why?”

A woman’s scream, as if expelling everything, came from the direction we were heading. It was hoarse and desperate, but probably Maria’s voice.

“Why am I always so selfish! God, if you’re going to kill someone, let it be me! Let it be me!”

As she screamed, Maria hit the dashboard with her thin right arm.

“Oh my God.”

I mumbled in my throat and looked carefully out the window. Trees and cars passed in a blur. If God granted her wish now, I would undoubtedly be taken away with her. If that happened, I felt that my grandmother would definitely be angry with me.

I craned my neck and looked around. I was in the back seat of an unknown car with my belongings. Could Maria have transported me? She had kindly wrapped me in a thin blanket and secured me with three seat belts.

I carefully unbuckled the seat belts and removed the blanket. I called out carefully, making sure not to distract her from driving.

“Um, Mari… Ah! Watch the road, watch the road!”

“I’m s-sorry.”

Maria, who was about to turn around to look at me, quickly corrected her steering. Then she braked perfectly and pulled the car to the side of the road. As soon as the immediate danger had passed, I began to sweat all over. This was the most exciting wake up I’ve ever had.

“Luke, you’re awake. You collapsed. We’re going to the hospital now.”

“Hospital?”

I asked with my mouth hanging open, then quickly remembered that I had collapsed and hit my head, which made me panic.

“No, that’s not necessary! I don’t feel any severe discomfort or pain…”

My words were cut off by the intense gaze of those black eyes, so similar to Alan’s, so beautiful.

“Please, let me make sure you are safe at the hospital. If I left you here, I could never forgive myself.”

I thought it was an exaggeration, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it, and I nodded reluctantly, once again overwhelmed by the changed impression Maria made.

“Alright… Can I move to the front seat?”

“Yes, of course.”

Maria grabbed a linen eco-bag from the passenger seat and tossed it into the seat next to me. I switched places with the bag and moved to the passenger seat, buckling my seat belt. As I sat next to her, I noticed that her face became slightly tense.