SHUDDER 3

He claimed to have no interest in others’ affairs, yet he lingered there. As if standing firm in that spot was solely to finish smoking a single cigarette.

As soon as Gijeong entered the shop, he bowed to the owner.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Gijeong, you’re here?”

“Yes. I’m… here to ask for another favor today.”

“Alright, what do you need this time?”

“Some rice.”

“Rice, how much do you want?”

The shop owner tore open a large plastic bag. Judging by Gijeong’s embarrassed expression and his voice, which seemed about to fade, it was clear he couldn’t pay for the rice. Yet the owner was already putting a second 5kg bag into the plastic. Gijeong quickly stopped her.

“No, just one bag, please.”

“Will one bag be enough?”

“For now. I’m sorry every time.”

“It’s fine. Kiyoung must be hungry, so hurry and cook him some rice.”

“When my father brings money next time, I’ll make sure to pay for everything, including the previous ones.”

“Alright, alright. Go on, hurry.”

The shop owner waved off the small kindness, looking slightly embarrassed herself. Gijeong kept bowing, saying thank you repeatedly.

Around that time, Hwang Jangyeop was sitting on the bench outside the shop, smoking. Looking up at the sluggish sky, he was already on his second cigarette.

Kiyoung, sucking his finger, gazed at the snacks displayed on one side of the bench. Perhaps knowing from experience that crying or begging wouldn’t get him anything, he didn’t reach out recklessly and just stared blankly. Such early resignation, unusual for a child. The sight of a kid who’d learned to give up before learning to fight for something felt oddly melancholic.

Hwang Jangyeop pulled out the soy milk the shop owner had stuffed into his pocket. Instantly, Kiyoung’s gaze, fixed on the snacks, shifted to his hand. He thrust the soy milk toward the boy. But Kiyoung just stared, twisting his body hesitantly.

His eager eyes looked ready to snatch and gulp the soy milk down, yet he wavered for a long time. Hwang Jangyeop gently shook the carton to urge him. Only then did Kiyoung cautiously approach, his fingertips brushing the soy milk. Instead of grabbing it, he fidgeted, hesitating several times until some certainty settled in, and he carefully took it.

Hwang Jangyeop pulled another soy milk from his other pocket, stuffed it into Kiyoung’s sagging pants pocket, and stood abruptly. Just then, Gijeong, having gotten the rice, came out.

“Kiyoung.”

At his brother’s call, Kiyoung, who’d been staring at Hwang Jangyeop, ran to Gijeong. Seeing the unfamiliar soy milk in his brother’s hand, Gijeong stared at Hwang Jangyeop. Hwang Jangyeop avoided the gaze, puffing out smoke. He hated the atmosphere of awkward pleasantries.

Gijeong silently bowed to Hwang Jangyeop. Or perhaps, since Hwang Jangyeop wasn’t looking, he couldn’t be sure, but it felt like it. Hwang Jangyeop only turned when the brothers’ footsteps faded.

For no particular reason, he watched Gijeong’s back as he headed home. Holding Kiyoung’s hand, Gijeong walked slowly and suddenly looked back. Their eyes, which he’d tried to avoid, met directly. This time, Hwang Jangyeop didn’t look away. He just sucked his cigarette until his cheeks hollowed and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

For a while, a quiet, meaningful gaze passed between them. Gijeong was the first to turn away. Kiyoung, who’d been watching Hwang Jangyeop alongside his brother, eagerly waved the soy milk and hurried after him.

“Huh? You’re still here? Did you think of something else to take?”

The shop owner, finishing cleaning inside, came out with a puzzled look. Hwang Jangyeop, without replying, tossed his cigarette away. Stamping out the embers, he said casually.

“Noona, if you keep giving everything on credit, what’ll you eat to live?”

“What can I do? They’re too pitiful. I can’t let them starve.”

“You’re not interested in that guy, are you?”

“Oh, heavens, what a thing to say! It’s not like that. I just feel sorry for those kids. Thinking about their father, I wouldn’t give a single grain of rice even if he begged. A man with all his limbs intact, letting his kids go hungry while he lies around. Why would I want to help him?”

“The rumors aren’t good.”

“Liquor’s the devil. They say he wasn’t always so useless.”

“You know him?”

“What?”

“About their family.”

“I heard bits and pieces. Their mother would come running barefoot, crying and begging me to hide her when her husband beat her. Sigh, they say he used to run a company in Seoul and lived well back then. Don’t know how he ended up so broke. They say he came here to escape creditors. That’s why the older boy’s still in school. A man who spent his life at a desk, what work could he find here? With no money, and gullible to boot, he probably got swindled out of whatever his in-laws sent. People fall apart in an instant. That husband of hers drinks all day on the money his wife earned. He’s so petty, always beating her out of insecurity. What woman could stand that?”

The shop owner clicked her tongue fiercely. It was a different story from what the tavern owner had said.

Rumors are like that. Which was closer to the truth, who could say? But the common threads likely held some truth. Like Gijeong’s mother running away, his father living a life steeped in liquor and violence, and the brothers’ precarious, impoverished existence.

“How much?”

Hwang Jangyeop asked abruptly, staring down the empty road where the brothers had gone.

“What?”

“How much is their tab?”

“What, you gonna pay it, Jangyeop?”

The shop owner grinned slyly. Instead of answering, Hwang Jangyeop pulled crumpled bills from his pocket and dropped them on the bench without counting.

“Will this cover it?”

“For real?”

The shop owner couldn’t hide her surprise. As far as she knew, Hwang Jangyeop wasn’t one to care or meddle in others’ family matters. Nor was he the type to show kindness without reason.

“If there’s any left, give the kid a lollipop or something when he comes by. I’m off.”

Hwang Jangyeop left without addressing her confusion. The shop owner looked between his retreating figure and the slope where Gijeong had disappeared. But she couldn’t find the link between them and tilted her head in puzzlement.

Fishing resumed in earnest four days later. At 4 a.m., the quiet harbor bustled with men preparing for work. They checked their long-idle boats and loaded neatly arranged nets. Hwang Jangyeop, too, boarded his boat, the Daecheongho, and hastened preparations to set sail.

The boats that finished first started their engines and headed out to sea. The last to remain was Hwang Jangyeop’s, but neither he nor his crew showed impatience. Whenever they set out, the Daecheongho always returned with the biggest haul. It had been that way since Hwang Jangyeop inherited the boat from his father.

The Daecheongho wasn’t equipped with cutting-edge gear. In fact, its facilities were outdated. The old winch often jammed, forcing them to haul nets by hand.

Yet Hwang Jangyeop always caught the most fish, and they sold at high prices. Whether prices crashed from overfishing or Chinese trawlers depleted stocks, it didn’t matter to him.

“Jangyeop, let’s get going.”

Mr. Park signaled that preparations were complete. Hwang Jangyeop nodded and headed to the wheelhouse.

Just then, a figure approached the harbor, where only the Daecheongho remained. The slight man had hollow cheeks and sunken, gaunt eyes. He looked about fifty but seemed a decade older.

“Well, who’s this? Isn’t that Mr. Yeom?”

Mr. Park, the village socialite, recognized him instantly. The man bowed to Mr. Park. His body trembled even standing still, as if he could barely hold himself up.

“Um… is there any work?”

A dry voice leaked from his cracked, pale lips. It was likely why he was wandering the harbor at dawn.

“Work? Well… hey, Jangyeop!”

Mr. Park, dealing with Mr. Yeom, called Hwang Jangyeop to the deck. Just lighting a cigarette, Hwang Jangyeop came out with an annoyed look.

“What?”

“He’s looking for work.”

Mr. Park answered awkwardly on Mr. Yeom’s behalf. Hwang Jangyeop silently looked down at Mr. Yeom, who bowed to him. Taking a long drag, he slowly scanned the man’s frail frame. While Hwang Jangyeop weighed whether to take him, Mr. Park clicked his tongue.

“Geez. Had a drink last night too, huh?”

“…A little.”

“Man, haven’t you had enough? You gotta lay off the liquor. What’s so great about it? You’ve got kids to look after.”

“I know.”

“Gijeong, that boy, he’s gotta go to college soon, right?”

“…Yes. He’s studying so hard his nose bleeds, says he’s going to college. As his father, I don’t know much, but I’ve got to make that happen.”

Mr. Yeom rubbed his hands awkwardly. His timid finger-fidgeting seemed oddly familiar. Though his face was too worn to be sure, his round, large eyes also reminded Hwang Jangyeop of someone.

At a glance, Mr. Yeom didn’t look capable of pulling his weight. He’d be lucky not to be a burden. Hwang Jangyeop didn’t do losing deals. Yet, for some reason today, he turned to the wheelhouse and said.

“If you get in the way, I’ll toss you into the sea, so you’d better be ready.”

The boats hauled in mackerel like they’d been waiting for it. The massive catches left the returning boats sitting low in the water.

The mackerel were cleaned and hung to dry on shaded, windy hills. Five days after fishing resumed, the village reeked of drying fish, but no one grimaced. To mainlanders, it was the smell of money.

As fishing stabilized, the harbor’s sashimi restaurants and taverns were packed to the brim. Unlike the days when storms halted work, the atmosphere was lively and raucous.

Men in work clothes gathered, drinking bowls overflowing with liquor, playing high-stakes seotda, and laughing heartily even when they lost. It was the leisurely scene that came with every bountiful season.

“Have a drink, Jangyeop.”

Mr. Bong, who’d been pouring for fellow crewmen, filled Hwang Jangyeop’s empty bowl to the brim. Already drunk, he seemed ready to dance, his hips swaying, giggling at every glance.

Hwang Jangyeop downed the brimming rice wine in one gulp. His throat bobbed prominently with the refreshing quench. Wiping the liquor from his lips with the back of his hand, he passed the bowl to Mr. Yeom, huddled in the corner. Mr. Yeom hesitated, then took it and silently accepted a pour from Hwang Jangyeop. Thirsty, he gulped it down eagerly, even licking the empty bowl regretfully.

Hwang Jangyeop refilled Mr. Yeom’s bowl and, while he drank, pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket. He tossed them in front of Mr. Yeom, who set the bowl down cheerfully.

“Your pay, hyung.”

“…Not sure if I should take it.”

“Making things easy for the boss just spoils them, nothing good about it. But since I took you on my boat, I’ve gotta make sure you can put food in your mouth, right? Don’t blow this on liquor. Buy some meat for the kids. They’re both skin and bones.”

Mr. Yeom nodded without protest, even at advice from someone far younger. Perhaps ashamed of being seen as a useless father who craved liquor over feeding his kids, he gave an awkward smile.

“If you tear another good net, there’ll really be nothing next time.”

“Got it, got it.”

Mr. Yeom nodded repeatedly. He tucked the money Hwang Jangyeop gave him into his coat pocket, beaming. For someone who’d only been the head of the house in name, returning home with money was reason enough to be buoyant.

Watching Mr. Yeom quietly, Hwang Jangyeop suddenly snapped out of it and shook his head. He poured more rice wine into his bowl and drank, chuckling bitterly. Seeing Mr. Yeom’s foolish grin, he couldn’t help but think of his son.

“Huh?”

The blue gate house, they said. Supporting the drunken Mr. Yeom, Hwang Jangyeop arrived at a gate so rusted and peeled it was hard to tell its original color. The blue paint was nowhere to be found.

Banging on the ugly gate, Gijeong came out, looking at Hwang Jangyeop with startled rabbit eyes. The bruises that always marked his face were gone, making his pale skin feel unfamiliar. No, it was more like strangeness.

Hwang Jangyeop had never seen a man’s skin so clear. That must be why he stared blankly at Gijeong without realizing it.

“What ‘huh’? Stop gawking and lay out a blanket, kid.”

He gruffly scolded Gijeong for staring back. Only then did Gijeong turn and rush inside. Following with Mr. Yeom, Hwang Jangyeop glanced around the bare yard, devoid of proper furnishings.

He had no particular curiosity, yet his eyes roamed, meticulously observing another’s home. After looking it over, he frowned.

It didn’t feel like a place where people lived. No matter how broke they were, struggling to eat, it was too much. The house was practically a ruin. They lived there, barely clearing cobwebs and taping up broken windows.

A place that couldn’t block rain, let alone wind—housing people, not dogs or pigs. He let out a hollow laugh.

“The blanket’s ready.”

Gijeong poked his head out from the door. Retracting his prying gaze, Hwang Jangyeop stepped inside. But he stopped short after one step. Despite trying to hide it, the floor was ice-cold. The season was heading toward winter, the peak of mackerel fishing. Yet Gijeong’s house floor was a frozen wasteland.

Kiyoung, layered in clothes and wearing his brother’s winter jacket, slept quietly in thick cotton blankets. Even more striking was the flashlight illuminating the dark room. Relying on that faint light, textbooks, notebooks, and pens were scattered on a low table, as if Gijeong had been studying. A rolled-up blanket, likely where Gijeong sat, lay beside it.

What glory was he chasing in such a shabby place? To Hwang Jangyeop, it was incomprehensible.

“Lay him here.”

Gijeong’s voice snapped him back. Coming to his senses, Hwang Jangyeop lowered Mr. Yeom, whom he’d been half-carrying, onto the blanket. Gijeong skillfully tucked a pillow under his father’s head and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

Still, Mr. Yeom shivered and groaned. The liquor’s warmth seemed to make him feel the cold more acutely. The temperature inside and out didn’t seem much different. It wouldn’t be surprising if a healthy person turned into a corpse overnight here.

Instead of leaving, Hwang Jangyeop somberly surveyed the house. Gijeong, who’d stepped out briefly, returned with a 200ml carton of white milk. He hesitated, then held it out to Hwang Jangyeop, who looked at him questioningly.

Hwang Jangyeop didn’t take it right away. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Gijeong said softly, “Take it,” shaking the carton gently.

“What’s this?”

“Milk…”

“Idiot, who doesn’t know that?”

His words always came out sharp, a habit he couldn’t break. He expected Gijeong to shrink back, but surprisingly, he just shrugged calmly.

“It’s all I’ve got to give.”

Back at the tavern, when asking for credit, Gijeong had been so ashamed of his poverty. Now, it seemed he’d slightly lowered his guard toward Hwang Jangyeop. Or perhaps he’d resigned himself to the fact that hiding it was pointless.

Maybe he’d heard Hwang Jangyeop gave his father work. It wasn’t exactly kindness, but it was natural to soften toward someone who, despite grumbling, kept showing small favors.

Hwang Jangyeop had never cared whether others put up or lowered walls around him. But for some reason, this time, it didn’t feel bad.

He snatched the milk from Gijeong’s hand and left the house. He felt Gijeong’s steady gaze on his back but didn’t turn around. Slamming the creaky gate, he strode down the slope, then slowed. Tossing the milk carton into the air and catching it, he muttered to himself.

“A guy… acting all soft like some girl.”

His grumbling voice carried a faint, unnoticed lift.

The morning weather was perfect for fishing, but by afternoon, the waves surged suddenly. Boats hurried back to the harbor, and workers who’d finished tending nets either holed up at home or trickled into the tavern.

Hwang Jangyeop was at the tavern, his usual haunt, lingering for hours. Going home with nothing to do would only mean enduring his mother’s endless nagging.

After days of drinking without so much as lifting a skirt, the tavern owner’s glares were sharp. Hwang Jangyeop ignored her flirtatious glances as she served other customers, while she fidgeted impatiently.

Regardless, he took a bowl of rice wine from Mr. Bong and drank heartily. Offering one back, he brought up a topic.

“Where’s Mr. Yeom? Haven’t seen him.”

“Ugh, that drunk? With money in his hand, where do you think he is? Probably passed out somewhere after drinking himself stupid. I heard they can’t even pay for gas or electricity, everything’s cut off. When’s he gonna get it together?”

Mr. Bong clicked his tongue and gulped his rice wine. Half went down his throat, half dribbled down his chin. Wiping it roughly, he snatched Mr. Park’s chopsticks and tossed a boiled conch into his mouth. Mr. Park poured more for Hwang Jangyeop and chimed in.

“Liquor’s the devil. When he drinks, he’s a completely different person. You know, Jangyeop, Mr. Yeom’s usually a bit timid, right? But get some liquor in him, and he’s the worst kind of scoundrel. Poor kids. The older one’s gotta go to college soon. They say he studies well, too good to waste in this backwater. But sending him to Seoul takes money, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly. A useless man playing head of the house, and the older boy’s twenty this year, so they don’t even get government aid, right? Helping out of pity only goes so far. Any money given just goes to Mr. Yeom’s liquor. Who’d want to help? He wasn’t a bad guy by nature, but liquor’s ruined him.”

Mr. Bong shook his head and spat on the floor. The tavern owner smacked his back, scolding him for dirtying her place. Heading back to the counter, she shot Hwang Jangyeop a glance.

Hwang Jangyeop let out a dry chuckle. Then he stood abruptly. As usual, Mr. Park and Mr. Bong’s eyes followed.

“Leaving already?”

“Yeah. Take your time.”

After paying for the drinks, as always, Hwang Jangyeop was about to leave but leaned in to the tavern owner.

“Cook up a pot of spicy fish stew for my place, noona.”

At that, the tavern owner’s sulky expression softened instantly. She waved softly as he left. Mr. Park and Mr. Bong exchanged knowing looks, chuckling.

The tavern owner asked Mr. Park to watch the place barely an hour after Hwang Jangyeop left. Naturally, she left without a pot of spicy fish stew in hand.

“Been scarce lately, I thought you got yourself a girl.”

Panting from running, the tavern owner slipped into Hwang Jangyeop’s room. In her haste, her blouse was half-unbuttoned. Leaning against a pile of blankets with a cigarette in his mouth, Hwang Jangyeop just smirked without replying.

The tavern owner lifted her skirt and straddled his legs. She eagerly rubbed her wet lips against his dry ones, frantically pawing at his bulging pants.